#Marcus Moreno x OC

[yourstrulylightstar283]

Happy belated anniversary to old PWC! 😀🎊🎉🎉🎊

Poorly Wired Circuit 1 Year Anniversary

Sentimental post incoming-

1 year ago today I posted the first chapter of Poorly Wired Circuit. I really didn’t know if I would post the second chapter let alone finish the story I wanted to tell but somehow a year later, the story isn’t only finished but I got to give Marcus Moreno the happy ending I wanted so desperately for him to have.

Even better than that, I became a part of fandom of endless talent, hilarity, and crazy shenanigans. I made lifelong friends that I wouldn’t trade for anything, and I found a place to share my silly stories that up until a year ago were only inside my head. Never could I have imagined all of this.

Thank you! To every single reader, follower, mutual, and friend- my life is richer for having you in and I am endlessly grateful for all of you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

🖤💻⚔️

[xmissrogersx]

Hi everyone!

My name is Priscila, and i’m new in tumblr! I just wanna thank you for the love u give to my stories! You are amazing girls!🩷

I have so many ideas to write (and of course i know about who u want) so please let me know in the comments what you want to read!

A few things about me:

I’m Argentina, 23 years old, i love the period drama, my favourite movie is the princess diaries and i study journalism.

God bless lana del rey, pizza and pedro pascal.

Follow me in TikTok, so you can know me a little bit more

www.tiktok.com/@priiscontardi

[fireflyhq]

Exciting news/also a cry for help </3 but, I'm going to be opening up requests as well as writing my own story!

This is a huge thing I'm taking on, as I miss my love of writing and would love to strengthen my skills (and get back into having good grammar, because god knows years of not writing correctly and using text slang has fucked it up💀💀) as well as have an outlet for my creativity and thoughts.

For requests I'm going to put out a list of what fandoms, characters etc I can/will write for. So please be on the look out for that!

In regards to my own personal story, it will be TLOU centered as well as a Canon x Oc love story between my character Rhiannon Hemmingway and Joel Miller. Cringey, I know, but I hope you'll enjoy their complex love story (and the extra characters I added because Ellie def needed a queer/nb sibling <3.) The story will be titled Will You Ever Win? and I hope to begin the drafts for it soon! I'll also be posting character descriptions so people get the know a little about the characters before getting into the story.

For the final part of this post I want to ask other authors for writing tips as well as suggestions for good headers/dividers/mood board making etc etc! I want to make my stories as aesthetically pleasing as well as pleasing story wise.

I can't wait to get started on this new journey!

[nerdieforpedro]

Front Covers and WIPs

Thank you to amazing @saradika for gifting us all these cool Penguin Classic Book Cover Templates 😘

I was tagged by @604to647 and @morallyinept and their front covers are amazing so here we go!

Most of the series are on Tumblr but one or two might be on AO3 (I’m still trying to figure out what designs I might use for them. 👀)

Presenting: (With my brand of humor 😘)

The above fics are linked here: 🤣

Sard’ika Sessions / AO3 - Din Djarin x fem reader

Only Parts of You Mr. Morales / AO3 - Frankie Morales x fem OC

The Lake Between Us / AO3 - Ezra x fem OC

Honey and Sugarplum (AO3 only) Jack Daniels x fem OC

Fire and Fury / AO3 - Pero Tovar x fem OC

Weddings 101 with Dieter / AO3 - Dieter Bravo x Maya fem OC

This is the Neighborhood Din / AO3 - Din Djarin (modern version and Grogu is human) x fem OC

Green Shop of Memories (AO3 only) Marcus Moreno x fem. OC

Come live with me Angel / AO3 - Benny Miller x fem. OC

Front Office Adjunct (AO3 only) Dave York x fem. OC

I’m combining this with WIP Wednesday since I haven’t done one for a while:

“Now that’s a lie sweetheart and you know it.” His voice is low and makes her laugh. She highly doubts this, she had no idea that things would turn out this way so quickly. Before she can offer a rebuttal, Benny grabs her wrist and kisses the inside of it. “You’ve had me since we sang ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ and I wouldn’t let go of your hand. I haven’t let go of you since Angel.”

From chapter four (I’m working on it) of “Come live with me Angel” with Benny Miller and Diana (OC)

Also this:

Rolling his eyes as he watches some older woman in a yellow track suit walking a poodle and eyeing him like he doesn’t belong, he flips her the bird as she stomps away, “Nope. I did give the finger to this old woman looking at me like I’m a round peg in a square in my own damn neighborhood. She’s one of those that would calm the cops for dumb shit.” He pauses a beat, “You finished reading? Anything you wanna ask?” The older woman yells some obscenities while her dog barks at its owner’s behavior. Dieter pays no mind and starts circling the tree he’s standing next to, trying to work off some of his anxiety. “First impression at least, give me something Aisha. Any direction you might be heading with it.”

From chapter six of “A Safe Place for Us” with Dieter and Aisha. Because I can’t help but make things serious as of recently. I need more whimsy. 🥸

Last one, kinda long but, it’s me I’m long winded 🤣:

“I enjoy many a meal. A real man ain’t picky darlin’. However, I know a good brunch place that has good food and good drinks. Think we might make an afternoon of it?”

”Asking for so much of my time already? You think you’ll keep me interested that long?”

”Sugarplum, I think the real question ya should be askin’ yourself,” Jack had the nerve to move his hand from her shoulder to her hip, squeezing it and whistling when he felt how supple her flesh was as he jiggle it, “Are you going to let me dine on a particular meal I’m looking for?” A second kiss was placed on her cheek and he was pulling back his hand, but Maeve placed it back.

”I might. You’ll need to work me into it like you said Jack. Mind if we talk more first?”

This one is from Honey and Sugarplum with Jack Daniels and a fem OC. Their banter in chapter one makes me giggle no matter how many times I read it. I’m going to get it on Tumblr one day. 👀

NPT: @megamindsecretlair @soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings @lotusbxtch @magpiepills

@syd-djarin @sin-djarin @avastrasposts @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @maggiemayhemnj

@jolapeno @goodwithcheese @secretelephanttattoo @bitchwitch1981 @burntheedges

@kilamonster @fhatbhabiee @inept-the-magnificent @yopossum @yourcoolauntie

@din-cognito @djarins-cyare @alltheglitterandtheroar @for-a-longlongtime @musings-of-a-rose

@tinytinymenace @trulybetty @iamskyereads @schnarfer @baronessvonglitter

@professionalpromqueen @pedroshotwifey @murder-wife @sunshinehaze1 @rosecentaur1916

@chaithetics @perotovar @grogusmum @gwendibleywrites

[psychedelic-ink]

Sorry I'm late everyone!eEnjoy all the fantastic fics everyone and don't forget to show love to the writers 💜💜💜

please show your support by commenting and/or reblogging!

categories include: pedro pascal characters (everyone), misc. (miguel o'hara, santiago garcia, tommy miller)

as always don't forget to check the warnings before reading!

click here for last months fic recommendations

PEDRO PASCAL CHARACTERS

SERIES

Pretend Alleyways by @radiowallet (dieter bravo x marcus moreno)

Eyes Open by @radiowallet (marcus moreno)

Like a River by @/radiowallet (marcus moreno, frankie morales)

Yours for the Weekend by @pedropascalsx (javier p)

Pleased to Meet You by @intheorangebedroom (frankie morales)

The Secret by @frannyzooey (marcus moreno)

Short Days, Long Nights by @/frannyzooey (joel miller)

The Waffle House Chronicles by @softlyspector (joel miller)

Adversity by @the-ginger-hedge-witch (frankie morales, ezra)

Palomino by @fuckyeahdindjarin (jack daniels)

Midnight Alley Series by @prolix-yuy (dieter bravo, tim rockford)

ONESHOTS

LJ’s Bangathon 2023 by @prolix-yuy (all pedro boys)

Simple Treasures by @/prolix-yuy (oberyn martell x m!oc)

done for by @pedrito-friskito (frankie morales)

catalyst by @ezrasbirdie (frankie morales, joel miller)

cupcake by @/ezrasbirdie (jack daniels)

I bet you say that to all the girls by @toomanystoriessolittletime (jeol miller)

Caught by @toomanystoriessolittletime (frankie morales)

Girls' night by @/toomanystoriessolittletime (frankie morales)

What Happens in Vegas… by @wildemaven (jack daniels)

… Never Really Ends in Vegas by @/wildemaven (jack daniels)

Thought That I Was Dreaming by @haylzcyon (dieter bravo)

Grass is Greener by @/haylzcyon (frankie morales)

Close - An Insatiable Extra by @magpie-to-the-morning (frankie morales, santiago garcia)

Joel Miller x college neighbour AU by @fuckyeahdindjarin

Dieter Bravo x library AU by @/fuckyeahdindjarin

MISC.

Superhuman stamina by @astroboots (miguel o'hara)

Girl and boy Interrupted by @/astroboots (santiago garcia)

use me by @inklore (miguel o'hara)

torment by @/inklore (miguel o'hara)

burrowed in under my skin by @dameronscopilot (miguel o'hara)

dial drunk by @rqgnarok (tommy miller)

[sp00kymulderr]

WIP Tag Game

ty for the tags @schnarfer & @thetriumphantpanda

RULES: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!

oh god here we go. I have too many wips and it's actually sickening to look at them lmao don't judge me lets see...

racing towards the sun (Marcus Moreno x Dieter Bravo)

you in Dieters robe (Dieter Bravo x reader)

OHOF Pt 4 - Cinder (Joel Miller x reader)

Cherry ch 2/3 (Dieter Bravo x ofc x Reader)

ttlwh pt 3 (Marcus Pike x reader)

gym!crush Joel (Joel Miller x reader)

FLESH (Joel Miller x reader)

you play the part, i'll be the art (Joel Miller x reader)

Picture You (Joel Miller x reader)

Lost, Found pt 2 (Dieter Bravo x reader x Ezra x oc)

ways to love (Marcus Pike x reader)

mercy. (Lucien Flores x reader)

draw a line around my thoughts (Javi P x reader)

Any colour you like (Javi P x reader)

professor (Dieter Bravo x reader)

tags for these babes but sorry if you've already done it!

@chronically-ghosted @perotovar @covetyou @freelancearsonist @javier-pena

@mothandpidgeon @missredherring @yxtkiwiyxt @seventeenpins @qveerthe0ry

[gemmahale]

Hi!! 💕 for the fruit asks!

🍊🍑

Please and thank you! 🙏

Fruit Fic Ask Game!

Taylor! Hi friend! 💚

🍊 Who’s a character you don’t write for that often, but keep meaning to write for more? (They’re so interesting! But maybe you have trouble pinning them down, or keep getting distracted by another blorbo…)

I want to get back to some of my Pedro Boys. 😖 Especially Marcus Moreno and Ezra and Marcus Pike. I just need to sit down with them again and see where I'm at. 😏 Otherwise, I struggle writing Ghost/Simon from CoD- I don't have any individual fics with him yet. I want to, but I have nothing that's really sparked my thoughts yet beyond having him in addition to at least one other character. But I'll have whole bits of him in some of my universe-building fics, when I get there. Eventually. Maybe. I'd also like to write more Price x OC, but again, he'll get parts in my universe fics, so I'm okay with it right now. (And Useful Girl is still giving me fits.)

🍑 If you could make a connection between your favorite character and another work you care about (whether a crossover/fusion or a wonderfully “pretentious” literary reference) what would it be? How would it work?

Ooh, this is challenging to think of. I think it'd be interesting to put Pedro's characters and CoD together, especially the civil servants - Moreno, Pike, Peña, (I know I'm forgetting some). I don't know how I'd do it though, but that's going to noodle in my brain now lol.

[yourstrulylightstar283]

Adorable, I love Marcus and Evey's meet cute moment so much and thank you🥰

The Regulars

Summary: Marcus and Missy befriend a waitress at their favorite diner.

Requested by @yourstrulylightstar283

Rating: General/Everyone Warnings: Marcus Moreno x OFC named Evey, father/daughter banter, mention of stressful working environment, otherwise just fluff and cuteness. Word Count: 1175

   ”Again, dad?” Missy asks when he puts the menu down, already knowing what he’s picked, even though he hasn’t said anything.

   “What?” he lovingly gripes in return, smiling as he knows where this is going.

   “There’s so much delicious food in this diner, and yet, every time we come here you order the same thing: the cheeseburger with fries. Are you scared of stepping out of your food comfort zone, or something?”

   “I’m not scared,” he huffs, “this is just the best burger in town.”

   “Alright, I didn’t wanna do this, but you’ve left me no choice,” she counters, and her tone clearly suggests she’s about to change his mind, whether he likes it or not.

   He loves when she gets all smart like this, so he leans back and feels a smile grow behind his cheeks as he watches her close her menu deliberately slowly before clasping her hands together and leaning her forearms on the table.

   “Dad, you’re a public figure,” she begins, very seriously, “which means that people pay attention to you. And what they’re seeing every time we come here, is that not only does Marcus Moreno support the meat-industry, which we all know is fubar, but that he’s also entirely unconcerned with his own health.”

   Suddenly, he doesn’t feel the smile in his cheeks anymore. Instead, he feels mildly nauseous, especially after he hears the next part of her reasoning.

   “Now, if you were a member of the public, which the Heroics are tasked with protecting, would you feel safe knowing that your supposed guardian doesn’t even take good care of himself?”

   He knows that she’s being deliberately manipulating, testing herself in how good she is at persuading others, but she’s also not wrong about anything she’s saying, and it’s surprisingly jarring to hear.    Before he’s had a chance to recover, however, the waitress comes to take their orders, and he feels a creeping panic at the back of his neck, realizing he doesn’t know what to do.

   “Hello, my name is Evey, I’ll be taking your orders today,” she says with a prize-winning smile which isn’t fake or overdone or disingenuous at all, and he’s momentarily distracted by the fact that he hasn’t seen this woman before.

   “Hi, I’m Missy, and this is my dad, Marcus,” his daughter responds, saving him from having to speak through the befuddled mess that is his brain right now.

   “Nice to meet you both,” Evey nods politely at them in turn, “what will it be today?”

   His daughter confidently asks for an omelet with a side of salad instead of potato fries, and then immediately turns the attention back to him, fully aware he hasn’t made up his mind yet.

   “Uh…” is all he says, before ripping the folded two-page menu open once again and scanning the options way too fast to actually make out what they are.

   He glances at Missy over the top of the pages, hoping she’ll start talking and give him a moment to think, but she just smiles knowingly at him while she calmly waits for him to make a fool of himself.

   “I can give you some options, if you prefer, sir,” the waitress suddenly offers him a lifeline, and he dives at it like he’s drowning.

   “Please, do. I’m sorry, I’m a bit distracted today,” he tries to explain, hoping not to look like a complete moron, although that ship has probably already sailed.

   “No problem, that’s why I’m here,” she smiles again, and then proceeds to list the entire dinner menu from memory, highlighting the nutritional benefits of each dish, as well as giving him a general idea of the flavor sensation associated with the various options.

   Marcus has been at five-star restaurants with lesser service than this, leaving him staring dumbly at Evey once she’s finished, trying to comprehend what such a talented server is doing in such a simple establishment.

   “You’re new here, aren’t you?” Missy pipes up after a moment of stunned silence.

   “Yes, it’s my first week,” the waitress confirms, and the Moreno’s exchange a look of impressed bewilderment before both turn back to stare at her.

   “I’m guessing you’ve been somewhere a bit more… demanding than this place before,” Marcus suggests, finally freed of the confusion his daughter had inflicted on him.

   “Demanding is the right word for it, indeed, sir,” she replies, and while the smile is still warm and genuine, there’s a hint of something heavy in her eyes for a moment as she says it.

   He knows that many prestigious restaurants can be hell to work at, no matter how skilled or experienced a person might be, so if she’s been at a place like that, he could understand if she needed to seek out a less stressful environment.    A small corner diner might not seem like a desired workplace for someone used to the glamour of the top tier in her field, but there are benefits to be found in the simplicity and quaintness of smaller businesses.

   “Well, I hope you’ll like it here,” he smiles back at her. “It’s not too crowded most of the time, and the regulars are pretty decent.”

   Missy rolls her eyes at him in embarrassment over the last part, which Evey notices, and an adorable giggle crosses her lips.

   “I take it you’re the regulars in question, then?”

   “Oh, he’s a regular alright. A regular cheeseburger abuser,” his daughter shoots, paying him back for her embarrassment by making him look like an idiot in front of this lovely woman.

   “Am not!” he desperately fires back, succeeding only in sounding childish on top of stupid.

   “Am too! And apparently also dishonest, since you won’t even own up to it,” she counters, and he doesn’t have a good comeback for that, so he ends up just sitting there scowling for a beat, before finally closing the menu and setting it down on the table.

   “Fine. I’ll have the damned burger.”

   He expects the waitress to politely excuse herself then, as this little tiff has probably left her feeling uncomfortable.    But when she’s still by the table after a few seconds, he looks up to find out what she’s doing, only to discover her grinning at him with her head cocked to the side, looking as sweet as a labrador waiting for ear-scritches.

   “Good choice,” she says with a wink. “It’s the best burger in town.”

   Missy’s head hits the tabletop with an audible bonk, followed by her exacerbated groan of disapproval, now directed at both the adults, as her masterful plan to manipulate her father has been ruined.    Marcus, on the other hand, can’t help but laugh, and when Evey joins in even though she has both their orders and doesn’t need to stay there any longer, he feels like a friendship has just begun, and it sends a nice warmth through his abdomen.

   “I’ll be right back with your dinners,” she giggles, and then right before she turns away, she adds: “I think I’m gonna like the regulars here.”

THE END

[ghostofaboy]

Kinktober 2023 - October 14th

Day 14: Uniform, Suspension Bondage, Abduction/Kidnapping

Marcus Moreno x Male OC

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1320

Warnings: abduction, forced orgasm, edging, mentions of oral sex, suggested dub-con

@absurdthirst Kinktober List | Ghost of a Boy Masterlist

It had been a trap. Looking back, it was obvious. The intel too vague, the location far too deserted when he arrived, the first wave of henchmen far too easily defeated. Marcus had been advancing into the next area when he was Blinding Fast go down. He remembered running towards his friend and then… nothing.

Blinking his eyes, Marcus looked around his new surroundings. He was tied to a chair in what appeared to be a plain concrete cell. Great. Thick concrete stretched from floor to ceiling. No windows and only a single wooden door as the only way in and out. Wait! A wooden door?

Marcus reached out with his powers and felt nothing. There was no metal in any part of this cell. Just concrete, wood and large wax candles for light. He didn’t even have the metal from his uniform to rely on as, glancing down, Marcus could see even his clothes had been removed, leaving him just in his underwear. It seems his captors had thought of everything. It also seemed he was their primary target.

=====

Marcus had lost track of time by the time the door to his cell first opened. He guessed it had been four or five hours, judging by how numb his hands were from being tied behind his back. Looking up, Marcus was greeted by a tall, thin man dressed in a regal purple suit complete with cape and immediately scowled.

“I see from your face you know who I am.” The man spoke, circling Marcus as the door was closed behind him.

“The so-called Lord Daemon.” Marcus spat. “What do you want with me?”

“You’re the leader of the Heroics.” Daemon stopped in front of Marcus, looking down at him with a strange look on his face Marcus couldn’t place. “You’re a very valuable target.”

“So this is a ransom?” Marcus laughed. “The Heroics don’t negotiate with terrorists. And they certainly won’t negotiate with a murderer like you.”

“They will, in time.” Daemon shrugged. “But for now, let us see what secrets are locked in that pretty head of yours.”

“You can’t seriously think I’m going to give anything up.” Marcus spat back. “I’ll die before I-”

“Oh no, Marcus, my dear.” Daemon leaned in close, smiling in a way that sent a shiver down his spine. “I’m not going to kill you. In fact, I won’t ever let you die.”

=====

Come dribbled down his leg as Marcus slumped against his bindings. His whole body felt as though it was one fire as Daemon stood watching, smirking. Inside his ass, the vibrator finally stopped, making Marcus gasp and moan. He’d long since lost count of how many times Daemon had forced him to come. 

So far, he’d endured four days of this. Four long days of Daemon inserting larger and larger vibrators into his ass before switching them on for hours. Over and over, Marcus had been brought to the brink before Daemon would stop, let him recover his composure before beginning again. Hours upon hours of edging, day after day. Marcus was amazing he still had any come left in his balls. Over and over, Daemon found different ways to take Marcus to the very edge and yet he had told them nothing.

Another jolt from the vibrator snapped Marcus’ head back sharply. His vision swam as he fought to stay conscious. He was exhausted. Over to his left, he could hear Daemon moving around before the vibrator was shut off and roughly pulled out of his ass. Letting his eyes flutter shut, Marcus let exhaustion take him. 

=====

Marcus wasn’t sure how long he was out for, but when he came to, he wasn’t tied to the chair anymore. His face was resting against the cool concrete and on shaking arms, Marcus pushed himself up. He still felt dizzy but he could tell something was different… 

Looking around the cell, Marcus couldn’t see any sign of the vibrators or toys Daemon had been using on him. Instead, on his chair was a piece of paper. Climbing to his feet, Marcus reached out to pick it up, only to find it wasn’t paper, just a photo. Turning it over, Marcus’ heart sank and his skin ran cold. 

It was him. 

It was him spread out on the floor, cock hard and leaking, with his knees up near his shoulders to show his asshole to the camera. This must have been taken when he was passed out but anyone seeing this would think he was posing himself. His eyes were closed, but the smile on his face made it seem like he was awake and fully aware of his actions.

Throwing the photo across the room, Marcus let out a frustrated growl. Fucking Daemon! What was this asshole’s game? As if sensing Marcus thinking of him, the door opened and Daemon appeared.

“You’re awake.” Daemon smiled, his eyes raking over Marcus, before spotting the photo on the floor. “Did you like our little photo session? I think you look quite beautiful, but then again I’m biased.”

“Fuck you!” Marcus hissed. “What do you want?”

Daemon laughed, deep and loudly, shaking his head. “I have what I want. All the money in the world couldn’t equal making the leader of the Heroics into my personal pet.”

“Pet?” Marcus growled. “Never gonna happen.”

“Oh no?” Daemon continued to laugh. “That’s not the only photo I have of you. So many poses, so many beautiful expressions. My personal favorites are after you’ve come. That look of bliss on your face when you’re covered in come.”

Marcus froze. How many times had Daemon done this to him? He’d passed out a few times during the vibrators and endless orgasms. Had there been photos each time? Who had been touching him?

Watching Marcus’ face, Daemon’s laughing subsided and he began to advance. “Would you like to see them? Behave yourself and I could even be persuaded to destroy them.”

“What would behaving myself look like?” Marcus asked cautiously. He didn’t trust Daemon as far as he could throw him but he couldn’t let those photos get out.

“Let's start with something simple. Something you’ve done before for me, although you were a little less ‘aware’.” Daemon reached out, stroking Marcus’ face and Marcus fought the urge to pull back even as his stomach sank. “I must say, even half-conscious, you are quite adept at sucking cock.” 

Marcus lurched backward away from Daemon, his worst fears realized. Daemon smirked, licking his lips, his eyes wandering down to Marcus’ crotch.

“Come now.” Daemon motioned to his zipper. “Do a good job and I’ll show you the photos from today. You can pick one to keep and do what you want with.”

“Get the fuck away from me!”

“Get on your knees, pet.” Daemon commanded, his eyes hardening as he step towards Marcus once more. “Or I’ll show these pretty photos to Missy!”

“Pineapple.”

“What?” Daemon stopped immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s weird now.”

“Shit.” Daemon’s shoulders slumped. “It was cos I mentioned Missy isn’t it?”

“Well, yeah.” Marcus folded his arms, scowling at his lover. “Talking about my daughter during our… it’s not exactly sexy, baby.”

“Sorry.” Daemon pouted, wrapping his arms around Marcus who reluctantly accepted the hug. “Up until then, was it what you wanted?”

“Yeah.” Marcus leaned against Daemon as they made their way out of the room and up the stairs into Daemon’s kitchen. “Up to then, it was perfect. I was completely lost in the role. You were very good. Very believable.”

“Thank you.” Daemon planted a gentle kiss on Marcus’s cheek before handing him a robe. “Do you want to get something to eat then start over?”

“No.” Marcus shook his head sadly. “The immersions gone now and we’ve only got one day left. Blinding Fast will only be able to cover for me for so long.”

“So… snacks then bedroom?” Daemon grinned.

“Perfect.”

[yearofcreation2023]

Year of Themed Creations: July 2023 Collection (in progress)

WORDS:

When It Comes To You by @flightlessangelwings - Year of Protectiveness Dialogue prompt- “ you need to get out of here! go! i’ll buy you some more time!“ Action prompt- [ REUNION ]: after spending a considerable length of time apart, the sender reunites with the receiver after saving their life from an immediate and potentially lethal threat. (Comandante Veracruz x fem!reader)

Not All Heroes Wear Capes by @all-the-things-2020 - Year of Fandom Crossovers Lt. Marcus Moreno is posted to the Enterprise after a stint at Starfleet headquarters. His daughter Missy is eager to go but is he ready to return to space after losing his wife? (Marcus Moreno)

Love at First Fight by @ironmandeficiency - Year of Idiots after a tavern visit, you seriously consider getting your eyes checked when you mistake an unassuming dwarf for your best friend’s ex. (bofur / reader)

Full-Time Problem by @never--doubt - Year of Soulmates In a universe where everyone has timers that freeze when they meet their soulmates, it's hard to focus on that when a war is brewing. What will Rey and Finn do when they figure out that Poe has already found his soulmate? (Poe Dameron x Female!Reader)

A Chance Taken by @ghostofskywalker - Year of Flowers It took a long time to get over the boy that you used to spend time with in the Senate building, but your lives took you in separate directions. But when he shows up during the Clone Wars with a dire warning for your planet, you don’t want to let him go without telling him how you feel. (Obi-Wan Kenobi/Reader)

Something Soft by @keldabe-kriff - Year of Small Joys More attempts at feeling out moments between Joel and Ellie, placed at a point when they have more trust in each other. Other than that it isn't any specific point in the timeline of the show. (Joel Miller, Ellie Williams, no pairing)

Is This How It Ends? Pt. 4 by @artemiseamoon - Year of Whump Memories from the past haunt Rhea as she reflects on a moment that could be the cause of Santiago's personality change. (Santiago, OC Rhea, Frankie Morales)

First Dance by @hopeamarsu - Year of Firsts You find yourself with the Red Viper of Dorne. What would you ask from him? (Oberyn Martell x gn!reader)

Saying I Love You Through An Accidental Kiss by @songsformonkeys - Year of Saying I Love You  I think the title is pretty self-explanatory. Unbeta'd. (Joel Miller x reader Pre outbreak)

Buck Moon by @grogusmum - Wheel of the Year This is a companion to my one shot Your Spot Okay, I should admit from the jump. This is not all that pagany. It’s smut. Sorry. But not really. Oops. I just, okay, this is what happened on Frankie Friday, I was thinking about him and Rocket. I also kind of got interested in the challenge of writing a smut for a gender neutral reader, if I could manage it. Fingers crossed. (Frankie Morales x gn!Reader)

Bird Strike by @captainsophiestark - Year of Olympians Prompt: Apollo; light, the sun, truth, inspiration, medicine, healing. Summary: A bird strikes brings Hangman down and leads to confessions from him and Rooster’s sister. (Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader)

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[words-are-fireproof]

With the Kids in the Gym (Ribbons Part IV)

(gif by @nicolethered)

Summary: Marcus helps Missy with Guppy and goes out on a limb.

Rating: T

Content: kids being kids, uncertain Marcus Moreno should come with a warning, anxiety, disabled canon and original character, Marcus being soft and fluffy.

A/N: As always, this story is unbetaed. Sorry, not sorry. ;P

Word Count: 3.9k (this chapter is chonky)

[Masterlist] || [Series Masterlist] || Part Three || Part Five

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The sounds of the gym met Marcus’ ears as he stood outside the big glass windows. Big brown eyes watched as Missy and Guppy trained in front of a large mirror and punching bag. Guppy pummeled the punching bag with her shark strength, and he couldn’t help but laugh when Missy had to jump away from the bag because it kept swinging precariously on its carabiner. He couldn’t exactly tell what his daughter was saying to the little pint sized hero, but whatever she was saying wasn’t exactly sinking into the little one’s head.

Despite whatever Missy was–or wasn’t–accomplishing, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride for his daughter. He never doubted her for a second. Not when the entire fate of the world rested on her small shoulders. Not when the subsequent training seemed to push her down. She kept getting back up. Every single time. He knew exactly where she got her strength from. Others would say that she got it from him, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. She got her resilience from him, maybe, but her strength she got from Laura.

A sharp pain stabbed furiously in his chest.

He took a deep breath to try to steady it, to make it go away, but it lodged there and didn’t want to move. This happened every single year, sometimes more than once a day. Around this time of year, it seemed to linger from sun up to sun down and sometimes it even seeped into his dreams and nightmares at night. Of course, Aaron’s words and the reason why he currently stood at the gym doors didn’t help matters either. He knew that. He also knew it wouldn’t go away until he did something about it.

He took a deep breath, carding a hand through his shaggy dark hair. He needed a trim. He’d set up the appointment later. For now, he let the breath steady him as he pushed into the gym, letting the door shut behind him. His eyes surveyed the thinning crowd. All the kids were there with various equipment. Training. Rewind and Fast Forward seemed to be working together much smoother than they had in the beginning. After the takeover, they still had their issues, and sometimes they didn’t work together well, but any progress was better than nothing.

Slo-Mo was the real MVP of the post-takeover team up. The slow moving hero finally moved at almost regular speed now. With Missy’s and his dad’s help, he finally learned how to control his speed. There were still moments when he moved too slowly–he noticed it when the kid seemed tired at the end of day or after a particularly long training session–but for the most part, the kid moved normally. He chalked it up to Missy’s strength as a leader–among other things.

A sense of pride welled in his chest, replacing the sharp pain for a little while.

The only person he couldn’t see in his survey of the crowd was the one person he wanted to see the most. Keilah. A frown tugged at his lips, and he tried not to entertain the disappointment he felt rising within him. Maybe she left early that day. Maybe Aaron just wanted to tease him. Maybe pursuing her would end up being a fool’s errand. Marcus didn’t know, but he didn’t like the feeling currently settling inside of him. It felt needy and desperate and oh, so terribly stupid. Why did he think he could do this, whatever in the hell this was? He was a widower. No matter what Aaron said about getting a life, it already didn’t feel worth it.

Another sigh and he walked through the gym to Guppy and Missy, just barely missing a whack from the punching bag.

“Guppy,” Missy began, exasperation tinged the edges of her voice, “try it again. Focus on the power you feel when you’re in a rage but don’t actually go into a rage.”

Guppy whipped around on Missy and bared her teeth, snapping at the older girl fiercely. Marcus chuckled softly as Guppy began waylaying the bag again.

“How’s it going nina?”

“Well, I’ve already had to break up Fast-Forward and Rewind today. Wheels is skipping arm day because he thinks he doesn’t need it, and Wild Card’s just been messing around and setting mats on fire because he can.” She huffed, her hands settling on her hips.

“Sounds like a normal day for me.”

She snorted softly. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“Well, if you remember, I didn’t do a good job of it. Not at the end, after all.”

She made a face, her lips and nose scrunching a bit. “You have a point.”

“Don’t I always?” He asked as he playfully reached to pull her in a one armed hug.

“Dad,” Missy whined playfully.

“Missy,” Marcus whined back teasingly. But he let her go.

She never failed to make him feel better. He felt a surge of gratitude for her. Gratitude and pride. It threatened to boil over making him insufferable, but he held it back. She didn’t need an overly prideful father who couldn’t see her shortcomings or help her overcome them. She needed someone to help her whenever he could. He admitted, he didn’t always have the answers, but he was more than happy to try.

This felt like one of those times.

“Do you want me to get onto Wild Card?”

She shook her head. “You know it wouldn’t work.”

“You have a point.”

Then, his gaze landed on Guppy. “What’s up with her today?”

“Shark Boy and Lava Girl are off on assignment.”

“Ah. She’s having a hard time adjusting,” he said knowingly.

“You know her well,” she admitted easily.

He wasn’t sure how true that was. He felt like he knew Guppy well. Truthfully, he had a soft spot for the little girl. In a lot of ways, she reminded him of Missy when she was her age. Missy had been a wild child. He and Laura had a hard time reigning her in. When she had just learned how to walk, she toddled everywhere, getting into everything, tearing books off shelves and pulling pans out of cabinets to bang on them and make noise. She had a wicked temper sometimes. Only Laura could calm her in those days. After she’d died, Missy seemed to calm down a lot, perhaps somehow knowing that he’d need a much more mellow child. He loved both sides of Missy. Just as he adored both sides of Guppy.

“I do,” he concured. “Tell you what. Take ten or go help someone else. I’ll handle her for a little bit.”

Relief immediately spread over Missy’s face. “Thanks, Dad.”

She left to go help put out one of Wild Card’s fires. He watched her walk away with a smile before he turned his attention back on Guppy. The little girl’s wild punching of the bag ceased. Wide blue eyes trained on him and her stance immediately softened. He grinned, crouching down to get on her level.

“Hey, Guppy.”

“Marcus!” She wrapped her arms around him in a hug. “What are you doing here?”

He hugged her back briefly. “Well, I’m here to see if Missy needs any help.”

She pulled back a little to peer at him curiously. “You’ve never came and helped before,” she said, her little lisp making him smile wider.

“No, I know.”

She frowned. “Did we do something wrong?”

He settled her gently back on her tiny feet. “What? No.”

“Because when the grown ups come to check in on us, it’s because we did something wrong.”

Marcus shook his head, his kind eyes trained reassuringly on her. “No, Gup. You’re fine. Though,” his gaze flicked over to Missy and Wild Card, “I might have to get onto Wild Card.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “He’s not being very nice to Missy.”

“Yeah, I know. But he’s just a kid. You’re all kids. You’re allowed to have bad days sometimes.”

Her little face scrunched up as she stood there and thought what must have been a mighty large thought. His expression softened and he had to resist a laugh as it began to bubble up in his chest.

“Marcus?”

“Yes, little miss?” The nickname fell from his lips easily without him even realizing it.

Her lips curved into a wide smile that almost devoured her face. She liked that nickname. He’d have to remember that.

“Are adults allowed to have bad days, too?”

The blood in his veins buzzed a little bit. For a moment, he allowed his attention to drift. The sound of a fire extinguisher hissed to his left. He tilted his head. He didn’t need to look behind him to know that Missy was dutifully putting out literal fires. Then, to his right, he heard the door to the gym squeak open and squeak shut, latching with a soft click that he felt more than heard. A rather unfortunate training mishap had seen the then head of HQ swap out all metal from the gym equipment, but the door hinges and door knob hadn’t ever been changed. They always pulled at his powers when he wasn’t paying attention, his fingers tingling with the life in them.

When he looked toward the door, he saw Keilah with her head down, stalking across the gym with her head down, hair swept up in a ponytail. Her ever present headphones sat dutifully in her ears. His heart pounded in his chest. Aaron was right. She came to train at the end of the day. In the back of his mind, it made sense. With the kids here, there were less adults present. Less adults meant less people intent on bothering her. He’d have to remember that.

Keilah sat her stuff down at the leg press just across from them. Marcus watched her for a long moment before he remembered that Guppy asked him a question and he hadn’t responded yet.

He cleared his throat and returned his attention to the little girl in front of him.

“They have more bad days than you think they do.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Do you have a lot of bad days?”

Marcus nodded. “I do.” He took a breath, considered, then continued, “You know this morning I destroyed a sofa bed because I had a bad night.”

The look on her face broke his heart. He briefly wondered if it was a bad idea to let her in on his bad days, but if they helped her, maybe it wouldn’t be a total loss.

“Missy says I need to control my shark frenzies because it’s bad for the team.”

“You don’t think they’re bad, do you?” He asked curiously, figuring he knew what the little girl would say.

“I’m stronger when I’m in them,” she stated with a shrug.

“Maybe you are, little miss, but think of how much stronger you’d be if you channeled your strength and were fully conscious of what you were doing.”

Guppy lifted an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you should stop relying on your frenzies and train your natural strength.”

She stared at him for a long moment before shaking her head. “I don’t understand.”

Marcus blew out a breath, palming the back of his neck as he tried to think of an easier way to explain what he meant. All the while, his eyes drifted over to watch Keilah as she began her work out. He longed to talk to her, but he knew that helping Guppy was the right thing to do. That and he could hear Missy and Wild Card arguing behind him.

“Okay, so. Your frenzies put others at danger because you let anger…push you along. Right?”

“Yes…” she answered slowly, uncertainly.

“So what you need to do is find inner peace. There you find your greatest strength.”

She frowned. “How do I do that while fighting?”

“I’m not sure.” He rested his hands on hips, fingers tapping his belt in thought. “You meditate, right?” Guppy nodded eagerly. “What do you do to meditate?”

She shrugged elaborately. “I just sit down and not listen to people.”

A strangled laugh died rather unceremoniously in his throat. He shouldn’t laugh, but he couldn’t help it. It was such a simple answer for such a complex little girl.

“It doesn’t help, does it?” She shook her head. “I didn’t think so.” He tapped his belt some more as he continued to think. “Okay, we’re going to try something. It’ll be a work in progress, so you’ll have to trust me.”

“I trust you.”

You’re the only one, he thought bitterly, and he wasn’t even sure why he thought it.

“So…can I ask you something? Before we start?” She shrugged. “How do you feel right now?”

Her face scrunched in thought. “Sad. I miss my mom and dad.”

“I know how that feels. Being sad. You know how I use my sadness to fight? I channel it through me and let it fuel me, but I also use it to calm me.”

“Sadness calms you?”

“Yeah, in a way. Because I miss my wife, and when I think about her, it makes me sad but I also remember the good times we had together. So, think of your mom and dad and think of all the good times you have when they’re here.”

“You think that will help me?”

“I think it could, yeah. So, try it. Punch the punching bag and let the sadness and happiness move through you, but try to keep the anger at bay. Try not to be angry at them. They will be back soon and think of how great that will be.”

Her brows furrowed thoughtfully as she slowly turned to face the punching bag. She considered it for a long moment then started punching the bag, slowly at first, then quicker as time went on. He wondered if what he said was working for her. He wished he had powers of telepathy, but then he was glad he didn’t. Telepathy would be too much to bear for him. He knew this far too well. He’d seen good heroes come and go who had telepathy and they couldn’t be saved. He didn’t want to be one of those people.

His thoughts were pulled from that line of thinking and he turned to watch Keilah as she sparred silently with a holographic sentinel. Marcus envied her solitude. He wished he could have just a fraction of it. He wondered if it would make him feel better. Maybe it could help him feel more centered and less out of control, especially now as he dealt with the memories that continued to pummel him, even as he stood there. He listened to the faint squeaks of the punching bag, not paying attention to Guppy until he heard the loud thump of the bag breaking free from its hook on the wall and falling to the ground a few feet ahead of them.

“Oops,” Guppy quickly covered her mouth in horror. “I’m sorry, Marcus.”

“Hey, it’s okay. There’s no need to apologize.” He glanced between the downed bag and the little girl beside him. “Are you angry?” She shook her head. “How do you feel?”

“Strong,” she beamed in pride behind her hands.

“I’d say it worked, then, don’t you?”

“Well…”

“Guppy.”

“I might have gotten a little angry.”

He crouched down in front of her. “Can I ask why?”

It looked like Guppy was about to answer when her blue eyed gaze rose to just past his left shoulder. He turned to be met with Keilah, all beautiful and wonderful and standing there with her hair pulled up in a ponytail, barely breaking a sweat despite her fight with the sentinel. She smiled down at him and his heart skipped a beat. He tried to ignore the fact that Guppy stood there, watching him and his reaction to the woman. He could see out of the corner of his eye that the little girl was smiling from ear to ear. Dios mio.

“Uh, hi,” Marcus said as he stood up to face her.

Hi, she hastily scrawled on the notebook she held in her hand. I wondered if I could help you?

“Help…help with…” He trailed off and motioned at Guppy who just giggled.

“My name is Guppy!”

Hi, Guppy. If you have it handled, then I can just go.

“Oh, no. It's fine. You can help. Of course you can help.”

She laughed and looked at the bag on the floor before scribbling quickly, Can’t help with the punching bag, though.

Marcus chuckled as well, trying to keep from snorting unceremoniously. He turned to look at Guppy. “Want to move to the sentinels?” The little girl nodded eagerly. “Perfect. Let’s move over there.” Then he frowns. “I won’t be kicking you out, will I?”

Keilah shrugged. It’s okay. I’m not feeling like training today anyway.

He laughed again. “Noted.”

The three of them went off to the little corner of the gym that Keilah once occupied and the three of them began to train. Marcus tried to keep himself from staring at Keilah too much, but he didn’t feel very successful with that endeavor. She looked beautiful. Even with the headphones in her ears. Even in her gym clothes. Especially in her gym clothes. He tried not to be lewd, but as she crouched down to help Guppy, he couldn’t help but sneak a look. He immediately felt dirty and straightened up, averting his gaze from her to focus on Guppy.

Soon, Guppy was off fighting sentinels on her own and the two of them watched her closely. He stood near enough to Keilah that he could feel the heat radiating off the skin of her arm. In fact, he could feel the blood singing in her body, the iron calling to him faintly under layers of skin, muscle, and sinew. It felt so strange yet not unwelcomed. Not at all. Marcus liked feeling it. For the most part, he’d learned to ignore it. But with her, it was hard to ignore. It felt like a siren’s call, his fingers tingling with the feeling. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but he couldn’t imagine that would go over very well. He knew it wouldn’t. So, he shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to ignore it.

He also tried to ignore it when he felt a very soft hand lay briefly on his forearm. He turned to face her and was immediately met with her notebook full of her delicate writing.

My name’s Keilah. I’m sorry. I realize now we’ve never properly met.

He shook his head. “It’s alright. I’m Marcus.”

Her cheeks turned a light pink as she wrote quickly. I know who you are. I used to have your poster hanging up in my room. She looked mortified as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ears, showing him what she wrote.

He chuckled, palming the back of his neck awkwardly. “Oh, um, thanks, I guess?”

She scribbled quickly on her notebook again. Sorry. This is awkward. I…don’t usually talk to people.

“Is it okay if I asked why?”

I’m deaf.

His eyes briefly widened. “Oh, oh. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I didn’t realize that. It makes sense now.” Then his brows furrowed in thought. “Do I need to be writing on the notebook too? Would that be easier?”

Her shoulders relaxed a bit and even the blood in her body seemed to stop moving so quickly. Her heart slowed down. He felt it and immediately knew the answer to that question.

It would be, actually. Reading lips exhausts me. I try to make do, but it doesn’t always work.

Marcus smiled, holding out his hands expectantly for the notebook. He tried to ignore the way her eyes seemed to shine at the realization that he was serious. He was going to do this for her. He wondered how many people overlooked her because of her disability, how many people didn’t make concessions for her. He imagined that more often than not, people didn’t care or take the time to learn what she needed to thrive.

When he took the notebook, he immediately started writing. What else would make you more comfortable? If you don’t mind telling me.

She stood there, considering that for a long moment before she took the notebook again to write, I can’t think of anything right now. If I think of something, I’ll let you know.

He nodded. Awkward silence settled over the pair. Guppy continued to fight, but Marcus noticed that she was beginning to slow down. The girl must be getting tired. He shut off the simulation after she downed one of them with some difficulty. Confusion shone all over her face as she looked over to the both of them.

“That’s all for the day, Guppy. You did good, little miss.”

She beamed. “Thank you, Marcus.”

“You’re welcome. Now get cleaned up, okay?”

She nodded eagerly, disappearing into the newly designated kids’ locker rooms to get cleaned up and changed into her regular clothing. One by one, the other kids began to do the same, all of them in various degrees of exhaustion until the only people left in the gym were him, Keilah, and the trainer who had the rather unfortunate job of trying to find a new place to hang the punching bag. It made him chuckle quietly to himself.

Suddenly, he felt the edge of the notebook poke into his chest. He looked down, eyes scanning the writing.

You’re good with her.

Guppy? Oh, yeah. She’s one of Missy’s best friends. She’s fun.

It seems like it.

Yeah. He took a deep breath, about to hand the notebook back to her when he took a leap, deciding to add something to it that made his heart pound in his chest. Do you want to go get lunch with me?

Her eyes widened briefly as she considered, writing back hastily, Sure.

He couldn’t believe it. She said yes. He thought maybe she would let him down easily and say no, but no. She said yes. He could hear the hollow rush of his blood pounding in his ears. His fingers prickled with his barely contained powers. At the front of the gym, he could hear the hinges and the door knob of the door squeaking under the pull of his metal manipulation. He swallowed thickly and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“Sorry. Um, great. That’s great. Is tomorrow too soon?” Keilah shook her head. “Good. Good. That’s…that’s great, actually.”

She beamed right as Missy came out of the locker room, her bag slung over her shoulder. “Dad, are you ready to go?’

He turned his attention to his daughter. “Si, I’m ready. Let’s go.” Then he turns back to Keilah. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?” She nodded. “Perfect.”

He smiled, in fact, he couldn’t stop smiling. His powers still tugged at the metal in the doorframe despite them being shoved in his pockets. He could still feel the slight tingle of the iron in her blood. He tried to ignore it but couldn’t. For the first time in a long time, he felt alive. Now if only he could stop himself from going power crazy before he got home. This should be interesting.

[yourstrulylightstar283]

Nice and beautiful work! 😀

Wow this one went fast!!

This is a moodboard for @radiowallet ‘s Poorly Wired Circuit, requested by @disgruntledspacedad .

Correct guesses by @bunniesofsteel @novemberrain221 @nolanell and @day-off-inkyoto so I’ve got several more moodboards in the works. Just a heads up, these will take longer but I love that you’re enjoying

Magpie’s Moodboard Game!

[bittercoldbrew]

Not Beyond Repair

Summary: He was her first love, her greatest heartbreak. Twenty years and an alien invasion later, the universe seems determined to bring Marcus Moreno back into her life.

Rating/Warnings: Rated M for coarse and suggestive language (no smut, but mentions of a past sexual relationship), allusions to (but no descriptions of) child abuse/neglect. And just like so much angst. 18+ ONLY

A/N: Wow so this has been sitting in my wips since uhhh March I guess??? I wasn’t really planning on ever finishing it, just something I’d tinker with from time to time, but over the past week or so while procrastinating writing something wholly unrelated I was suddenly struck with inspiration and couldn’t seem to pull myself away. No idea if I’ll ever write a follow-up, but I’ve gotten pretty attached to these characters now, so I guess we’ll see! Anyway, here’s 7k+ of Marcus Moreno x OFC angsty tender goodness. Enjoy!

It’s been a quiet day, rainy and cool, the gloomy weather keeping all but her staunchest regulars at bay. Not great for her bottom line, but getting back into the swing of things after being lightly kidnapped by decidedly un-sexy tentacle aliens has been...more of a challenge than anticipated. This has been a good chance to get caught up on packages to be shipped out, and sprucing up a few displays, and generally working her way through the rolling list of ancillary tasks. After an admirably productive morning and a quick trip to the sandwich shop next door for lunch, Vera had just settled in behind the counter and cracked open her current read when the bell above the door chimed for the first time in hours.

The thing about owning a tiny bookshop in a quiet part of an otherwise-bustling city is that people expect her to just be reading behind the counter all day—not remotely the case, there are a hundred other things she should be doing right now, but at least she doesn’t have to feel too guilty at being caught slacking off as she looks up to greet the new customer with an easy smile.

Her expression freezes halfway there.

The long legs and broad shoulders of Marcus Moreno fill her doorway—and all the rest of him, too, clad in tight dark jeans and a light gray sweater and a black leather jacket. There’s a strained, nervous expression on his face as he lifts a hand to sweep rain-slick hair out of his face, then gives her a half-hearted wave. “...Hey,” he says softly.

"...Marcus," she sighs, hoping she doesn’t sound quite as confused and uncomfortable as she feels, gripping the book in her hands so tightly the binding creaks.

He attempts a smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Sorry to just show up at your work like this, but I, uh...don’t have your number anymore.”

“But you have the shop’s address?” she asks, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

He shrugs. “It’s a local bookstore with your name on it. Even I’m not that bad with google.”

She sighs. Smack dab in the middle of the block, the name West & Elm Books had seemed a cute idea, prompting visitors to ask, “This is Elm Street, but what’s West?” The first twenty or so times, she’d been chipper as anything to respond, “I am! Vera West, nice to meet you.”

The routine had gotten old very fast.

“Pretty sure google also knows the shop’s number,” she drawls, with a pointed nod toward the landline literally two feet away from her on the counter. Even with three separate online storefronts, quite a few of her customers aren’t terribly comfortable navigating the internet, and these days the shop phone probably gets more use than her cell.

He has the sense to look abashed, at least. “I... Yeah, I know, I just wanted... I can—leave. If you want me to.”

She finally sets down her book, not caring to mark the page. A week ago, she would’ve run him off the moment she saw him. But now..? “Just—try not to...drip on anything,” she huffs, gesturing vaguely at his wet clothes. What, were superheroes too cool to carry umbrellas or something?

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” He looks down at himself as if he hadn’t even realized, tries to wipe his shoes off on the mat, takes a few steps inside. Instead of swinging closed behind him, the door gets caught by a gust of wind that blows it open further, then yanks it shut with a harsh clang of the bell, and they both flinch. “Sorry,” he mutters again.

“What do you want, Moreno?” she asks—not angry to see him, really, but suddenly and completely exhausted.

He nods his head, as though her snappishness is exactly the welcome he’d expected, and it makes her bristle with old hurts thought long buried. But then his next words surprise her right out of what should’ve been a one-way trip to anger: “I wanted to thank you.”

She blinks, confused; asks dumbly, “For what?”

For the first time since entering, he meets her eyes—and god, she had forgotten how warm they can be, how kind, how tender. “You thought the world was ending, and you ran to find my mom.”

She shrugs her shoulders like it was no biggie, like making sure Tía Moreno was safe hadn’t been her first and only thought after watching him get attacked and captured by aliens on the fucking morning news. “Didn’t have anyone else to check up on,” she says—and it’s true, if not entirely honest.

“She said you showed up to the house with a baseball bat,” he says, resting his hands on his hips and shifting his weight to one foot, the way he always used to when he knew he was about to get on her nerves. “A Slugger, even. Like the one I gave you.”

The gift had been half joke, half deadly serious; something to keep her safe on the nights she couldn’t stay over at his parents’ house and instead had to navigate the unpredictable environment of her mother’s apartment and the men she sometimes brought back with her from the various bars she worked at—and a wooden bat so, he’d told her with a dimpled grin, she could turn it on him if she ever needed to. They’d been best friends at the time, just a couple of stupid barely-teenagers, one with the supernatural ability to command metal, the other with no particular power or significance beyond a certain knack for always knowing how to make the gloomiest boy in school smile. The moment he put that bat in her hands had been the moment she realized she was hopelessly in love with him, even if it’d taken her a few more months to put words to the feeling and say them to his face.

It’s the same bat tucked with her behind the counter now, the one she’s kept at her bedside every night for more than twenty years, the one with “VW + MM” lovingly carved into the handle. She’d made herself a real pain in some squid alien’s ass to get it back from whoever had confiscated it, once they’d finally been released from the spaceship.

She sure as hell isn’t going to tell Marcus that, though. With a huff, she gets up from her stool and turns from his prying gaze, stepping over to the espresso machine. “¿Quieres un café?” she asks, but her voice sounds so flat and tired that it comes out as more of a command than a question.

“...Gracias,” he mutters awkwardly, as though he’s not entirely sure whether she’d been asking or telling, either. It doesn’t matter; she’d never known him to turn down good coffee, and although it’s been a long, long time since she last called him a friend, she can't imagine that’s something that will ever change.

She can feel his eyes on her while she pulls a couple shots and steams some milk, but he at least keeps his dumb mouth shut, for once. The espresso machine is a real treasure—an Italian import, small but mighty, a worthy investment simply because she loves to have a little something special to offer her favorite regulars and kind customers (though it’s always mysteriously in need of repair whenever anyone’s rude to her, weird how that happens, huh?)—and she wouldn’t want him saying something to sour her mood while she uses it. The Marzocco deserves better than that.

When she turns back around with a cortado for him and a latte for herself, she sees that he’d grabbed one of the stools from the little table by the window, has seated himself across the counter from her own spot. Any hope she may have harbored that he’d been planning on drinking his espresso and walking back out of her life flees at the sight. Biting back another sigh, she sets the drinks down and sits, holding her cup in both hands as if it might protect her from whatever else he has in mind to say.

“Thank you,” he says softly, picking up the tiny spoon and twirling it in his fingers absent-mindedly. “Vera—”

The bell dings again, and they both turn to watch a huge umbrella force its way through the door, followed closely by a young-ish couple huddled together, laughing brightly at their successful escape from the elements. Their obvious mirth somehow manages to make Vera feel even grouchier, and she straightens up and calls over to them, “Hey, sorry folks, we’re closed!”

The two stop shaking out their umbrella all over her nice wood floor, and turn to look at her in surprise. The woman’s eyes widen in something like camaraderie and understanding, taking in Vee’s and Marcus’s closeness and tense posture; but the guy’s expression sours, and he gestures sharply at the door he just barged through, unable or unwilling to read the damn room. “The sign says you’re open.”

“Yeah, thanks,” she agrees, trying and probably failing to keep the bite out of her tone. “You can flip it for me on your way out.”

He looks ready to argue with her some more, but his date grabs his arm with a “C’mon, babe...” So instead he flips her the bird—but at least the woman turns the sign as they manipulate the umbrella and themselves back out to the street. Hopefully they’ll find their way to the sandwich shop next door to weather the storm, go be Bill and Stu’s problem rather than hers.

“Sorry,” Marcus murmurs, a needlessly contrite look in his eyes. “Want me to, uh...hit the lock?”

She’d been halfway off her stool to do just that; sighing, she sits back down. “Sure, knock yourself out.”

He twists at the waist, lifts a steady hand; a moment later, she hears the metal latch click into place.

Apparently it’s still enough to make her heartbeat kick up a notch, the way he so casually defies the laws of nature. People with powers aren’t quite so rare as they once were, but they tend to keep to their own communities, out of necessity if not some blatant prejudice. Vera knows a small handful of other folks with inexplicable talents, but no one holds a candle to Marcus Moreno.

...To his superpower, that is.

Shaking her head of useless thoughts, she takes a slow sip of her latte to keep from having to meet his eyes. “So, uh... Your mom. She doing okay?”

He nods his head, taking a sip of his own drink—she tries not to let herself be charmed by the way his glasses slip down the bridge of his nose when he dips his head, just barely managing to resist the muscle-memory instinct to pluck them from his face and put them on herself. “Yeah. Yeah, she’s good. Disappointed in me and the other adults, of course. But the Heroics asked her to lend a hand with training all the kids, and she couldn’t be happier.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet.” Vera can’t help but smile at the thought; she may not be an active hero any longer, but age hasn’t slowed Anita Moreno down much at all from the woman she remembers, the closest thing to a mother figure she’d had after dad died and mom subsequently lost her grip on reality. It’ll be good for Tía to get back into it, she thinks. “And Missy? How’s she holding up?”

“She’s great,” he says, and there’s a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes as he speaks of his daughter. “She has— I mean, she likes the hero stuff well enough, and don’t get me wrong, that’s a huge relief, but... But she has friends again, y’know? It’s been so long, I thought... Well, she’s... She’s doing great.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” she tells him, and—despite everything—she really means it. Despite everything, she still remembers how it’d felt after dad died, and mom had moved the two of them halfway across the country to get away from the memories, and Vera herself had sworn she’d never care about anyone else ever again, until the gloomiest boy in school suddenly got it into his head to change all that. “She’s a good kid. Clever, kind. The rest of the day sucked, y’know, the whole fake alien invasion thing, but...I liked getting to meet her.”

“She’s better than I deserve,” he says, tone solemn as he nods his head. He sets his cup down and folds his arms on the countertop, leaning in a little, brow creasing into something stern. “She told me you talked to her.”

“Oh, yeah?” she asks, holding her cup in front of her chest and leaning back a fraction, hoping the movement comes across as subconscious rather than calculated. “What’d she say?”

“Not much,” he admits. “Which means it must’ve really mattered to her. She said you swore one another to secrecy.”

If she lets herself think about it, Vera can almost feel the memory of the girl’s small hand in hers. But she doesn’t let herself dwell on it, just shrugs instead. “It’s good for a girl to have a couple secrets from her dad.”

“It is,” he agrees with a nod. His lips purse, his eyes lowering to stare into his espresso thoughtfully. “But mom... She said Missy seemed about ready to give up on the other kids, on coming after us, on all of it. Said she looked ready to shut down, until you went over and spoke to her.”

It sounds like Tía’d been exaggerating; really, it hadn't exactly been some kind of profound heart to heart or inspirational monologue or anything, it was just...a nice chat. The girl had asked who she was, what she was doing at her abuela’s house; Vera’d explained that she and Marcus had once been good friends, that she and Anita Moreno still kept in touch, that she’d been worried about the woman who practically raised her after seeing all the scary stuff on the news. Missy had been surprised to find out that her dad had a friend she’d never heard about, so Vera had shown her the carving on her bat and told her a truncated version of how he’d been kind to her in the darkest period of her life and they’d become inseparable for years, until time and circumstance made them go their separate ways.

And then Missy had asked...if she'd loved him.

And—hell, she'd been talking to his daughter, and an hour earlier she'd watched helplessly as he got swallowed up by a tidal wave of flying alien robot monsters, and she'd thought the world was ending, and she'd...answered honestly.

"I did. And I think I still do. And I'm scared I'll never get the chance to tell him."

There'd been other things they talked about, too; Vera had tried to be a little motivational for a minute there, had told the girl how she didn't have any powers, either, but that she'd never let it keep her from doing what needed to be done to protect the people she cared about. But none of that had seemed to land quite as close to home as the things she'd admitted—to herself as much as to her new young friend—about Marcus.

Not that she had the least intention of mentioning any of that to him, of course. The world hadn't ended; and once she'd gotten over the initial flood of relief at seeing him alive and unharmed, once he'd explained that this whole ordeal had been a test—for their own children, for fuck's sake—she'd been too angry at him and his stupid face and the Heroics most of all to be able to admit any such thing.

And if Missy hadn't told him what they'd discussed, she certainly would not betray the girl's trust. It had been a solemn (if improvised) oath they'd sworn, after all. Vera had never been one to break a promise, and she was not going to start now.

"It wasn't anything like that," she sighs, propping her elbow on the counter, her chin in her hand, taking a moment to study the face of this man who had once been the boy she’d known. Gone a little softer around the edges, but also far more put-together than she can ever remember seeing him. He has grown and changed in ways that are unfathomable to her, and it's her own fault that she wasn't around for any of it, and the realization makes the ache in her chest expand into a gnawing chasm, makes her words come out breathy and stilted and weird. "We just...talked about you, I guess. What you were like at her age, that sort of thing. If she...found inspiration in that, I think it's got more to do with you than me."

"Hmm," he breathes, his tone low and thoughtful. He takes another sip of his espresso, eyeing her over the rim of the cup, and those dark, watchful, gentle eyes are just the same as they have always been. For all the ways he's changed, he is still just as handsome and familiar as she always knew him to be, and this realization is staggering, too. "She asked me about you too, you know?"

"Really?" Vera lifts her mug to her lips, considering this. The girl had struck her as clever and curious from the moment she saw her, even before she'd recognized her father's expressions in her face and realized who she must be. It shouldn't be a surprise that Missy had pressed him for more info, but she can't help but feel pleased and, also, a little humbled by the attention. "What'd she want to know?"

"Why we stopped being friends," he answers, so bluntly that she has to cast her eyes away, staring out at the rows of bookshelves because she just can't look at his face anymore.

"What'd you tell her?"

"The truth. The...appropriate parts, anyway. I told her about your dad," he admits, his voice going gentle at the mention of her father, even now afraid to rub salt on such old wounds. "How he was a real hero, a firefighter without any powers to protect him, and I told her...how hard it was for your mom, after he died. I wanted her to know you weren’t...wrong to be afraid of what might happen to us, if I became—well, what I’ve become, I guess.”

What he’s become...

Sure, yeah, she’d been able to see a lot of it coming. Until his wife, no one had known Marcus half so well as Vera had, and even twenty years ago she’d been able to visualize the potential brimming just beneath his skin—could see it so clearly, it was as if she could reach out and touch it.

And now here he is, stumbling back into her life after all this time, looking like a snack and a half, just overflowing with big dilf energy in his dorky glasses and leather jacket and tousled hair.

But he's a widower, too; a serious man with an important, impossible job and a bright, wonderful daughter, and what does she have? A used bookstore perpetually in danger of not quite making ends meet, and the painful, delectable memory of how, once upon a time, this venerated hero had simply been the boy she loved, eating her out in the bed of his dad's old pickup truck like his life depended on it.

They were good memories, ones she'd never been able to make herself forget, no matter how much they hurt, no matter how much time passed. And it wasn't just the sex, either. He'd been her first, sure, and she'd been his—but he'd also been her first of everything else, too. Marcus Moreno had been her first kiss, her first boyfriend, her first best friend. He'd been the first person to ever hold her hand when she was scared, to ever give her a shoulder to cry on, to offer her refuge with the mere fact of his presence and the softness of his smile. He had been the first person to ever see her.

She has dated other people after him—eventually, occasionally—but no one very lasting. Loving Marcus had made her feel like her heart was too big to fit in her chest, like her veins were full of sunlight, like none of the sorrows in her life would be able to dig their roots into any inch of her skin that he had ever touched. No one else even came close.

Her own fault entirely; too busy pining after the one that got away to notice the possibilities available to her, too wounded by her first and greatest heartbreak to acknowledge that the love she'd lost had likely been nothing more than a dangerous blend of hormones and youthful fantasy. But she couldn't deny that he'd just about ruined her for all others. Nobody since had ever fucked her so good or made her laugh so hard—certainly never both at the same time.

Meanwhile, he had well and truly and decidedly moved on. Married a beautiful woman who looked absolutely nothing like her, had a brilliant daughter and the life of his dreams with her, at least until tragedy struck. And Vera—she had genuinely mourned when his wife died, had felt gutted when he lost her. All she had ever, ever, wanted was for Marcus Moreno to be happy—wanted it enough to know she could never give him what it would take, enough to sacrifice her own happiness by removing herself from his equation.

“It was stupid,” she admits aloud, hauling her mind away from the melancholy with both hands, forcing herself to meet this head-on. “I was stupid. I should never have made you choose—”

“No, you didn’t, that’s the thing,” he blurts, cutting in with a vehemence that shuts her up quickly. “I didn’t realize until I was telling Missy, but then it was so obvious. I was the stupid one. You said you couldn’t be with me if I joined the Heroics, but that never meant I had to cut you out of my life the way I did.”

“No. No, Marcus, that was your dream! And just look at what you've done with it. I still... I can’t believe I ever thought to ask you to give it up.”

“You didn’t. You set a boundary for yourself. I can see that now, I can respect that now, but at the time? God, Vee, I threw away the best friend I ever had because I couldn’t see past my own ego. Stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

"Maybe we were both stupid, then. I thought—" her voice cracks, brittle and far too full of feeling, and she has to blink hard and take a sip of her quickly-cooling latte, pulling herself together. But if she ever has any hope of getting over this—over him—she has to get this out in the open. "I thought I wouldn't be able to live with the worry. You saw how my mom fell to pieces after dad, but even before that she was already...splintered. Every time he was on duty, it was like another piece of her crumbled away—she had that fucking police scannner, would just hover in front of it all day and night, just in case, and I... I couldn't let that be my life, too."

"Vera—" he starts, but she shakes her head tightly and cuts him off, because now that the floodgate's been opened, there is no turning back.

"It didn't matter, Marcus." She pushes up from the stool, paces behind the counter with her hands on her hips, too riled to sit still. "I found the one thing I knew you couldn't give me and I used it to drive you off and I let you go, and it didn't even matter because I still spent every day of my life scouring the news, or laying awake at night terrified of losing you, and I didn't even have you anymore!"

When she manages to risk a glance his way, the expression on his face is one she's seen only once before, the day after his college graduation, right before he told her they were done. Stricken is the only word for it, and when he speaks, his voice is a low, dark rasp. "I never wanted that for you, Vera."

Hidden away, deep inside her chest, something softens—something she thought had calcified, after all these years.

"I know, Marcus." She runs a hand down her face, shakes her head and turns away from him. "I know. And I've gotten...better at managing it. Or, hell, maybe I just grew up. Lost enough people in my life that I finally learned that sometimes there isn't anything you can do. Maybe I would've been okay, eventually, if I hadn't... If we'd stayed..."

She can't finish the thought, it's still too painful to speak aloud.

I loved you, she thinks, but can't say this, either. And I think I still do. And I don't know if I'll ever be brave enough to tell you.

"...I know you've kept in touch with my mom," he says, gentle-voiced, and the change of subject is so jarring that she turns back to look at him. He's got his head bowed, staring down at the little espresso spoon, twirling it in his fingers. "She always told me she was meeting with her ‘book club’, that I couldn't come over because I'd be too distracting. Can't believe it took all this for me to figure out she meant you. You were always the smart one."

She pulls a face that he doesn't see, hopes he can hear the contrition in her voice. "I'm sorry about that. I just asked her not to tell you, thought it'd be...weird." It was weird, wasn't it? What kind of person still got together with their ex's mom on a regular basis, decades after such a spectacular breakup? But Tía has a gravitational pull all her own, one Vera's never been able (nor particularly willing) to evade. Plus she makes the best honey cookies. "I didn't think she'd straight-up lie to you, which is...probably even weirder. I, uh... Sorry."

"It's alright, Vee." He lifts his head a little, lets her see the smirk on his face, an expression so familiar that it makes her whole body ache. "I know how she is. I'm glad things stayed good for you two."

She nods slowly, running a hand through her hair. "Me too. You're mom's the best, Moreno."

"Yo sé." There’s habit to the words, a rhythm neither of them have forgotten, despite all the time that’s passed since last they said them. But the old sparkle that used to come into his eye is missing, replaced with a heavy caution. “When you guys met for book club, did she...talk about me?”

“Not always,” she answers dutifully, because technically it isn’t a lie. Sometimes they talked about the weather, or Anita’s gardening, or even—ostensibly—books. Honestly, Vera usually tried to steer well clear of any talk of Marcus and his perfect life without her, and for the most part Tía was respectful about that. But as the years passed, it grew less and less painful to hear, and she’d been grateful to have some sense of what was going on with him even when it still hurt a little.

"Did she tell you..? After my wife died," he says, and something in Vera's chest constricts, and she forces herself to keep her eyes on his face and not his hands—not his fingers toying with the ring he wears, the tiny piece of metal that she cannot bear to look at directly. "After she died, I stopped going out in the field. Did mom ever tell you why?"

Her throat has gone tight and the words won't come, not certain where he's going with this but certain from his body language and the look on his face that it's not going to be somewhere pleasant. She shakes her head.

"Missy asked me to," he says with a shrug. "Simple as that. She was scared, and grieving, and she didn't want to lose me, too, and she asked me to stop fighting. So I did."

"Marcus—" she tries, but her voice breaks on his name and tears start to well in her eyes, and she turns her back to him because she will do a lot of things, but she will not let him see her cry.

"I did it without hesitation," he continues. "Without question. It took me actually experiencing grief to understand where you'd been coming from, and even at the time I still never made the connection. But Missy asked and I agreed, because I love her. I still...broke that promise, now, because I thought I didn't have a choice. But I was willing to try, and I wish... I wish I had loved you like that, back then. I should have loved you enough to try."

Okay, well, maybe she is gonna let him see her cry.

“Jesus, Marcus,” she croaks, whirling on him. “You can’t just say shit like that to me.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he says, lifting a hand as if to reach out and comfort her—but she’s about three feet and twenty years too far away, so he lets it fall back to the countertop instead. “I just— I want you to know that I know I fucked up, and now I finally understand why. I know I’m too late, but...when the Ogima brought you back, and I saw you again, I thought...”

She’d been separated from Anita when the aliens took them aboard their ship. Even handcuffed and relieved of her baseball bat, she’d done her best to fight back, determined to find Tía, superpowers or no. The aliens hadn’t actually been willing to hurt her, a random civilian caught up in the midst of their twisted game, and eventually they’d given up on trying to restrain her and simply tossed her in with the Heroics.

His face when he saw her, and the way he’d fallen to his knees beside her to tear off the metal cuffs like they were made of paper, and how he’d cradled her sore wrists in his big warm hands, and what he’d felt like against her chest when she threw her arms around his shoulders and pressed her face into his neck—Marcus, alive and whole—all of it had seared into her memory on contact, his voice and his scent and his body plaguing her dreams again for the first time in years.

“I was telling Missy about you,” he says, clearing his throat and changing the subject, and she can’t help but wonder if he’d been remembering those same things, whether thoughts of her had been plaguing him as well. “And thinking of how good things used to be, when you were a part of my life. And noticing how much I’ve missed you. And I realized... I think I broke your heart, Vera.”

She takes a deep breath and lets it out slow, unwilling to lie to him about this. “Yeah, you did, Marcus.”

He nods his head, gaze dropping with the movement, accepting her words but unable to look at her.

She takes a step forward, and then another, sinking back onto her stool, her shoulders relaxing for perhaps the first time since he'd entered her shop. His right hand still rests on the countertop where he’d dropped it, balled into a fist, and she stares at it for a long, quiet moment, hesitates...then rests her own hand beside it, close enough that her knuckles brush against his. “But not—” she swallows thickly, watching as his fingers unspool, reaching for hers but not grabbing, waiting to see what she’ll do. She isn’t sure, herself, surprised by the warmth of his skin and by the sight of her hand in his, not entirely certain how it got there. “Not beyond repair.”

His thumb rubs the back of her hand, fingers curling around hers, holding her steady, grounded to him. He lifts his eyes to hers, and they’re just as dark and warm and beautiful as she remembers. “I know I can’t take any of it back. I know we can’t just start over. But would you consider—I mean, would you even... Do you think we could try again?”

She blinks back a few traitorous tears, glancing away to stare out the display window at the rain-swept street beyond. A week ago, her answer would’ve been a resounding no—hell, she probably would’ve chased him off with her bat the moment she looked up and saw him in her doorway. But now, after everything, after realizing she might never see him again, after finding him here in her shop with his heart on his sleeve, looking to make amends...?

“Do you mean as friends?” she asks, forcing the words out past her reluctant tongue, forcing herself to look back at him so she can gauge his reaction. “Or as...you know...something more?”

His brows draw together and he tilts his head to the side, eyeing her curiously. “I don’t know. Would that be...something you want?”

“I don’t know,” she echoes. She eyes the flecks of gray in the scruff along his jaw, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, thinking of all the ways he’s changed since she last let herself love him, and all the ways she’s tried to change, too. “Maybe...someday? But I’ve been...getting over you.”

She doesn’t tell him that she hasn’t been very successful at it. She doesn’t tell him that it’s a battle she’s been fighting with herself ever since he walked away from her; doesn’t tell him that most days it still feels like she’s losing.

She’s sure he can tell that she’s holding all that back, but he doesn’t push her, just nods his head and lowers his gaze to their hands, still clasped together.

“Yeah, that’s... I haven’t, uh...dated since...” He doesn’t finish the sentence, and she’s grateful—the memory of his wife is already a tangible enough barrier between them, without him speaking her name aloud. Anyway, he was never any good at casual, her Marcus, and she isn’t surprised to learn that he’s stayed single after losing her.

“Maybe we could start with friends for a while,” she offers, shrugging when he lifts his eyes back to hers. “Just...see how it goes?”

He flashes an amused smirk. “What, a friendship trial run?”

“Sure. It couldn’t hurt, right?”

“Yeah... Okay, what’re you thinking? Like...a few months or something?”

“Six,” she says definitively—it seems to be the average length of all her relationships after him, just long enough for her to figure out if she’s losing interest, not so long that she’d feel compelled to stay together for the sake of sunk cost. If, after six months, they haven’t driven each other away again, and she still feels this overwhelming urge to peel that leather jacket off of him and have him right here beside the cash register, then, well... Maybe by then she’ll feel confident enough to follow through.

“Six months.” He nods his head thoughtfully, considering her offer, apparently unruffled by the specificity of her time limit, content to roll with it. “Okay. Yeah, I can do that. And then we’ll...touch base, see how we’re both feeling, see if we want to stop or...try something else?”

“Right,” she agrees, nodding too. Laid out like that, it almost sounds like a totally rational sort of plan.

“Right,” he echoes, a small smile beginning to tug at his lips, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes deepening. She glances away before she can catch a glimpse of that dimple in his cheek, the one that always made her knees feel weak. “Okay, well, in that case, I have something for you here...”

She turns back when he pulls his hand free from hers, reaching in the inner breast of his jacket for some secret hidden pocket. There could be any number of things emerging from there—after having been abducted by real-live aliens, she’s learning to expect the unexpected. But he simply pulls out a sheet of paper, folded in half twice, and holds it out to her.

“It’s from Missy,” he explains as she hesitantly takes the page from him. “She said I should give it to you even if you said no, but I, uh...thought that’d be weird.”

Vera frowns at his words, unfolding the paper delicately. It’s a sturdy cardstock, decorated with a colorful border of vibrantly-patterned washi tape. In the center, written in fluorescent bubble letters, the message reads: “You are cordially invited to the MORENO FAMILY BI-MONTHLY MOVIE NIGHT, this Saturday night. Doors open at 7pm, dinner and snacks provided. Movie TBD.”

Below, in purple gel pen and careful cursive, there’s a postscript: “P.S. Please come! My dad’s really sorry. <3 Missy”

“Please don’t feel obligated,” Marcus is saying, rubbing the back of his neck. “I told her we shouldn’t pressure you, but she really wants to see you again. But also if it’s too much, I can tell her you already had plans or something, or... I mean, I won’t make you out to be the bad guy or anything.”

She traces a finger along the looping letters, feeling a few sappy tears start to prick at the corners of her eyes. Blinking them away, she asks, “‘Bi-monthly’, huh? Does that mean twice a month, or every other?”

“Twice a month,” he confirms with a sigh. “It used to be every weekend but, y’know, she has friends now. I’ll have to learn to share my Saturday nights.”

Vera laughs, surprising even herself, and looks up to find him smiling fondly at her, dimple on full display. “Do I need to bring anything?”

“You’ll come?”

“I was cordially invited,” she points out, gesturing to the paper, watching as his smile spreads into a broad, brilliant grin. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

“That’s...” he starts, trailing off breathlessly. “That’s wonderful. And, uh, no, you don’t need to bring anything. Just...yourself. We usually—I try not to let us eat too much takeout, but Saturdays are special so we’ll probably order pizza. You still like mushrooms on yours, right?”

She laughs again, surprised that he would remember such a thing. “Yeah, Marcus, I do.”

“Good.”

He looks at her, those deep brown eyes twinkling, his gorgeous face lit up with a happiness she hasn’t seen there in far too long, and she starts to wonder how she’s ever going to make it six months without his mouth on hers.

“I’m, uh... It’s really great to see you, Vee.”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I mean—me too. I mean... I’m glad you came by, Marcus.”

“Me too.” His smile is infectious—it always has been. She watches, amused, as he clears his throat and fidgets awkwardly, patting his pockets, then running a hand through his hair, then downing the rest of his cortado in one gulp. “Thank you for the coffee and, uh...for giving me another chance. I, um. I should get going, let you enjoy the rest of your day.”

“Sure,” she says, wondering what his leagues of fans would think, to discover that Marcus Moreno gets like this when he’s nervous, fumbling with his words and forgetting what to do with his hands. She hopes they never find out, that this can be one of the many secrets kept safe from his adoring public, a side to him that she is privileged—even now, even after everything��to see. “Oh! Hang on, wait. Here.”

He carries the extra stool back over to its place at the window, then returns to the counter and watches attentively as she grabs a scrap piece of paper from the stack beside the phone, scrawls out seven digits, and hands it over to him.

“My number,” she tells him, shrugging. “So you don’t have to google me to stay in touch.”

He laughs and accepts the paper, fingers brushing against hers for a brief but luminous second, and she’s pleased to see that it gets tucked away into his jacket’s special secret inner pocket, too. “Actually, I, uh... I might’ve got your address from mom, instead.”

Vera shakes her head with a smirk, sliding from the stool and moving around the counter to walk him to the door. “I should’ve known she had a hand in this, somewhere. She’s been trying to get me to talk to you for years, now.”

He sighs heavily, slumping his broad shoulders. “Yeah, same here. I’m sorry it took me this long and an alien attack to actually listen.”

“Yeah, y— Hey, wait...” she trails off, frowning as an utterly ridiculous thought occurs to her. But...could it be..? “You don’t think your mom... I mean, I know that whole thing was set up for the sake of the kids, but she wouldn’t have— Would she—?”

“What, would she have staged an alien invasion just to get us talking again?” he jokes, but the smile drops quickly from his face, his brow creasing with suspicion. “I... No, she... Surely not. I mean, how could she have known you were going to come find her?”

“Right,” she agrees, a little too quickly, a little too eager. She doesn’t mention the fact that, after checking on the other Elm Street shopkeepers and texting her few friends that live downtown, she’d had nowhere else to go and nothing else to do than to check on Tía. Vera shakes her head. “And she wouldn’t have put Missy at risk like that just to meddle with us.”

“Right,” he echoes, nodding vigorously, his eyebrows shooting up. “Still, I... I’ll call her.”

“Okay,” she says, feeling relieved that he had thought her wild idea was at least worth looking into, that she isn’t just totally paranoid. Or, at least, that he’s equally as paranoid as she is.

It’s...a nice feeling, to know that she and Marcus Moreno are still on some same wavelength, even after all the years they’ve spent apart.

“And I’ll call you,” he says, brown eyes meeting hers as the concern on his face melts into a gentle fondness, making her chest feel warm, her body light.

She grins. “Yeah. And I’ll see you Saturday at 7.”

“Yeah. Missy will be so excited to see you again.” There’s a definite flush to his cheeks as he adds, “And—I will be, too.”

She laughs, unlocking the door and pulling it open for him. Outside, the rain is still coming down, but she can just make out the first rays of sunlight beginning to pour through the clouds.

He turns to look at her one more time, flipping the collar of his jacket up with a gleam in his eyes and a smirk on his lips. “I’ll see you later, Vera.”

“I’ll see you soon, Marcus,” she says, and her heart thumps hard against her rib cage and the words are so sweet on her tongue, because they’re true.

From the calm safety of her doorway, she watches him dash through the rain, head bowed, out to his car—watches him stop to wave at her before getting in, and she returns the wave with a laugh as he fumbles with his keys—watches as he finally makes it inside and starts the car, and as he backs carefully out into the street, and as he begins to drive away—watches until his tail lights fade away into the distance and the rain.

Only then does she straighten up and let the door swing shut. With a smile playing across her face, Vera West flips the sign to Open.

[inknopewetrust]

In Another Universe Part 3 (Marcus Moreno x Reader)

Summary: You are trying to normalize a world without Marcus, months after you snapped back to Earth. But in that other universe, an accident occurs in their mission to bring you back.

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Fem!Reader (We Can Be Heroes/MCU Crossover)

Word Count: 2.08k

Warnings: Nothing, just some language. 

A/N: So... it’s embarrassing how long this part took to be published. If you’ll except an apology, I’ll be the first to beg for forgiveness. On the other hand... here’s part 3! Part 4 will be the conclusion of this miniseries so thank you for reading thus far and stay tuned for that. Right now requests are CLOSED but I am going to open them again soon when I get through the ones I have waiting and I’ll be adding L&O:SVU characters to the list. :)

Pain is a difficult concept to understand. 

There are infinite reasons to feel a certain kind of pain or to be in a specific kind of pain, but no one can truly understand it until it happens to them. Which in the case of you, is no one. 

At some point during the last five months, you had made a move to Clint’s farm. James thought it would be better for you to not be in the city where your closest friends were gone and weren’t returning. It was the constant memories of Natasha holding your hand when things got rough or Tony obnoxiously slapping you on the shoulder in a message of congratulations. 

There were so many memories that simply seeped through the walls, both physically and metaphorically, but it wasn’t as if a move was going to change that. All you wanted was to move, home, to Marcus and Missy and the life you had built in what James had called ‘Earth 2.’ 

Earth 2. 

Earth 2 was the only Earth that mattered to you and his deflection of it being secondary to the one that only caused pain was hurtful. But it wasn’t like he was going to understand that. So, you took up the offer to move to Clint’s farm and the second you landed and walked off the jet, you regretted the decision. 

Clint was surrounded by love. His wife, his daughter, his sons. They were everything and nothing to you at the same time. Clint had his own problems to deal with upon meeting a young woman who took up skills like his own and often left you with Laura and his children. 

Laura kept you occupied with small projects as they were renovating the barn and their basement, but it was just as mundane as the topics of conversation she tried to engage in. But with even the slightest mention of Nat, or Steve, or Tony, or the world you left behind, you shut down. 

It was intentional, but it wasn’t avoidable. Pain wasn’t avoidable when it was buried so deep. 

But there were the occasional good days. Like today. 

Laura had taken the boys to soccer practice and promised Lila a day out at the aquarium. She extended the offer to you but she never thought you would accept. When you did, she was pleasantly surprised and also promised she would pay for lunch too. It was rare that you would pass up the opportunity to snag a free lunch because you obliged and allowed her to plan the day. 

‘Maybe a day out would be good.’ You thought to yourself as you readied everything to go. For the first time in months you put effort into your appearance. A bit of makeup, nicer clothes, and shoes that weren’t scuffed or covered in dirt from the non-existent basement floor. 

And for what it was worth, the day was good. You allowed yourself to just enjoy, learn, and watch a mother interact with her daughter and in turn, the daughter made you feel like the aunt Clint had always told her you were. Lila saw the effort and wanted to make you feel as welcome and as loved as possible. 

And as the cracks of a broken soul begin to slowly merge together–where time would surely heal it to properly function again, a wrench is thrown to stop it. 

James Rhodes wasn’t sure how it exactly happened.

He had been standing against a lab table, watching Clint (the only other resident at the compound at the moment) work on his bow. The two were making small conversation about their day to day lives since everything had gone down just a few months ago. While Clint had just finished installing a replacement valve on the base of the basket that held his arrows. It hadn’t been turning properly and the only place that would have the parts was Tony’s former playground. Then an earthquake occurred... or what they could equate to an earthquake.

Neither of them had ever been a witness to one, but the ground shook violently, quickly, with little give. Parts fell off tables and the two men grabbed at whatever they could to remain steady. By the time they had steadied themselves, the movement stopped. It was followed then, only then, by a loud crashing noise about a floor below and glass breaking. Clint was the first to reach for his bow and James grabbed the closest gun he could find. Neither of them thought anything other than “my god, what Thanos level shit is it now.”

Like the sleuth heroes they were, they managed to silently exit the lab and descend the stairs without so much as a creek. The living space that was located on the third floor was relatively untouched but the sound had echoed from the room. As soon as they turned around from the steps, they realized their suspicions were correct but it didn’t look like a Thanos level threat.

Behind the couch, the broken lamp that had no bulb laid on the ground beside a man. A man dressed in black tactical gear and swords sheathed on his back. He had other small weapons on his clothes but none of them were drawn and from the reflection of the glass window, Clint could see a perplexed look on his seemingly worn face. Although he didn’t feel the man was particularly threatening, Clint drew up his bow and held it steady from his position before calling out to him.

“Put your hands where I can see them.”

Cheesy, he knew it was but he wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t know where the hell this guy came from and he could easily be a sorcerer or God even though he looked like a regular Joe.

“Sir, I need you to show us your hands!” James was more assertive from behind Clint but didn’t move from his position. Ever since the accident years ago, James took a step back whenever he didn’t have his armor on.

The man had flinched a bit upon hearing their voices. He slowly raised his hands as asked and turned around to meet the eyes of two men who he had never met. Their weapons drawn on him but not unfamiliar to other situations he had been in before. This time, it was just more human.

“Who are you?” The one with short hair, a bow, asked him with a hesitant, gruff voice.

“Where am I?”

The man spoke their language—maybe not an alien.

“I asked you first who are you?”

“Where am I? Where is-“

“I do not want to have to shoot you, who are you?” James was aggravated, perhaps a little scared but he wouldn’t shoot unless the man made any aggressive moments toward them.

“M-Marcus. My name is Marcus.” Marcus’ voice was firm but scared. He didn’t know where he was. It was all an accident. One minute he was testing the machine and the next he was moving through a kaleidoscope of colors until he saw a blinding light and landed on a lamp in the middle of a futuristic looking living room.

There was a moment of realization in the bow-wielders face that gave Marcus a second of hope. Had this really worked? Was this your world?

“Alright Marcus, I am going to need you to tell me where you came from and how you got here.” The one with the gun in Marcus’ eyes began to move around the one with bow. He held out his hand calmly, signaling to Marcus that he wasn’t a threat but was protecting himself and his friend out of precaution. Marcus did not move his hands but nodded in agreement. What did he have to hide when he was now in an unfamiliar land with weapons pointed at his chest? 

“I don’t know how I got here. I work for a team and we were trying to get someone back. I was working on it but something went wrong.” 

“Do you know where you are?” 

“No.” 

“Who are you looking for?” 

“Our teammate.” 

Clint knew it was him. This had to have been the man you talked about with him and James was getting that sense as well. He was exactly as you spoke, handsome with a slight carelessness to his appearance. He had a mustache and his name was literally Marcus. It couldn’t have been anyone else, though they had no idea how in the universe he found his way to the middle of the Avengers living room. 

“Marcus, I am going to ask you a series of questions I need you to be honest with me.” Clint put down his bow this time and James looked at him with wide eyes but continued to hold his stance. 

“Does your world look like this one?” 

Marcus took a second to let his eyes drift out the windows around them. The world looked similar, almost an exact copy. He had remembered your startled realization that his world was just as similar to your own even though it wasn’t the same one. It was a strange concept that was hard to grapple with. 

“Yes.” 

“Do you have a daughter, Marcus?” 

“What?” This absolutely terrified him. As much as he wanted to be hopeful to find you, a mention of his daughter in a new world was not what he wanted. Now the question if he even escaped his own world and found himself in a new one was wavering. These people couldn’t possibly know he had a daughter unless they were familiar with the Heroics. 

“Do you have a daughter? I need you to answer this so I can-” 

“Yes. Yes, I have a daughter.” 

“Missy?” 

Marcus nodded his head and Clint looked at James who lowered his gun now. This was that Marcus. This was your Marcus and he was here to find you. 

“And what can you tell me about Y/n?” 

His heart leapt out of his chest with a fury at the mention of your name. 

“She’s my-my she’s-” 

Clint nodded his head and officially dropped his bow before extending his hand for Marcus to shake. 

“My name is Clint Barton, maybe she mentioned me, I don’t know. But she’s talked plenty about you.” 

“She’s here?” It came out just above a whisper as he met Clint’s hand. 

“Y/n is with my wife at our farm. I can take you to her.” 

It was like that final stretch of battle you had described to him before. This was his endgame, his chance for peace with you and the friends you left behind for years are willing to help make that come true. Much to his word, Clint prepared a jet to set off to the farm and James kept Marcus from stirring alone in his thoughts. It wasn’t as if the reunion would be soured because the relationship ended, no, quite the opposite, but the idea that maybe you would rather stay with the people who you had always been around was an invasive thought. James had eased those thoughts with stories of your return and subsequent difficultly to adapt to this life. That wasn’t an easy thing to hear, but it meant that somewhere inside you, you believed that life was better with Missy and himself. 

James reassured him that you were very much in love with him. You had told the two of them about your “other” life, about the team, Missy, Mrs. Moreno, and everyone else who made that other world home. 

Home. 

By the time James had gotten around to recalling the moment you had realized you loved Marcus, Clint had come back, gathered his own bags and motioned to the jet. 

“Looks like he’s ready to go.” James said and gave Marcus a friendly pat on the shoulder. 

“She deserves to be happy and I know with you she’ll have that. It’s what they would have wanted.” 

“Thank you for your help. I don’t think I would have found her otherwise.” Marcus chuckled but couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face. It was a contagious one because the two men couldn’t help but feel the love the radiated off the man. They were happy for you and if leaving this world for another meant you would finally be at peace, then that is what it meant. 

“Go get her, Marcus.” 

-------------------------

Tag list for series: 

@pasckles @jupitersmooneuropa @agingerindenial @karnita-mexicana @mcueveryday @shadowolf993 @computeringturtle @roxypeanut​

[mxndoscyarika]

Honeydew (Marcus Pike/Moreno x OC) | Chapter 8

Summary: Erin He moves to DC after working for the FBI in Texas and runs into a hero in disguise; Marcus Moreno. Something about him is familiar, too familiar, yet different in a way that she can’t quite place. Although confused, she can’t deny her feelings for him; perhaps, after years of regret, she finally found the one.

Warnings: food/drink mention, smut, swearing, public/semi-public sexual shenanigans (they’re very horny, ok???), Erin is hot af

Ao3

Honeydew masterlist

Like my writing? Here’s my masterlist.

Author’s Note: The undercover operation has begun 👀 Will Erin and Marcus be able to keep their act together? We’ll have to see.... Enjoy!

It was humid. Way too humid. Though, Erin supposed that maybe that’s what rich people liked; what better way to flaunt their wealth than being able to afford air-conditioning an entire mansion?

She held Marcus’s hand tightly as they weaved through the crowd of wedding attendees and partygoers at the hotel, reaching the elevator only after breaking a sweat.

Once they entered their room, the first order of business was to check it for bugs. And by bugs, they were looking for cameras and microphones. The last thing they wanted was for anyone to catch wind of the operation. Even if they needed an emergency extraction, it would take hours before any personnel arrived.

The suite was more like a penthouse than a hotel room. The floors had marble pathways and soft carpet surrounding the bed. A short hallway led to a spacious, doorless,  shower with a fireplace built in for warmth. The same hallway led to a more conventional bathroom with a bathtub, toilet, and sink. And, of course, the showstopper.

Marcus paused as they walked by. “That’s a nice hot tub.”

It took nearly an hour, but Erin and Marcus were able to sweep the entire suite and confirm that there weren’t any recording devices around.

“It seems like we should be safe in here, at least for now,” Erin said, resting her hands on her hips. “We arrived a bit earlier than I expected, so we should probably look around at the beach party before night falls. It’ll look more natural if we’re there all afternoon and evening. Do you remember your profile?”

---

The sun was even more unbearable with less clothes on. Erin adjusted the straps of her bikini bottoms, chatting with other attendees. The white sand and crystal blue water would’ve made the island a fantastic vacation spot, but unfortunately she didn’t have time to enjoy it. After all, she was there for work.

The bikini was smaller than any she’d ever worn, a special purchase to play the part. The black triangles of fabric strained over her breasts and the bottoms left little to the imagination. She blushed as she realized her lower lips could barely fit in the bottoms, swollen with arousal. In this case, it was arousal for herself. She rarely had the time or energy for beach trips, much less skimpy bathing suits. So even if this was an undercover operation, she couldn’t help but relish in her playthings.

“Babe, could you help me get my back?” she asked, applying some sunscreen onto her chest. She rolled her eyes as her nipples hardened, poking through the thin fabric. Her past lovers were obsessed with her tits, so any touch would make them hard. Thankfully no one seemed to care; in fact, the women she chatted with simply cooed as Marcus–her “boyfriend”–stood up to help.

She clenched around nothing as she imagined how Marcus would look if he was sucking on her tits. The soft flesh would bury his face as he mouthed at her, leaving marks that staked out his claim. But that was just another fantasy that wouldn’t come true.

Marcus gulped as he took her in, hoping she couldn’t see his hardening cock.

The bikini fit her perfectly, hugging her in all the right spots and emphasizing the plush flesh of her ass and hips. The thong bottoms left virtually nothing to the imagination, which only made his predicament worse. As much as he loved her and the way she looked, it was definitely not the right place or time to be thinking about her ass.

Erin tried not to stare as she noticed his shorts tent, his thick length outlined. He looked like he would fill her perfectly, better than any toy she ever buried inside herself. She wanted to get on her knees and give him a taste of his own medicine, bringing him to the edge. Would he even fit in her hand?

The thought made her pulse, her bottoms growing wetter.

She let out a gasp as he smacked her ass playfully, wishing he would spread her legs and taste her. Her eyes grew large as he kneeled down in front of her and nudged her legs apart.

“What? I’m helping out, like you asked.” He looked up at her with a smoldering gaze as he kissed her thighs. It took a moment for her to remember that this was part of the act; she and Marcus were meant to be fiery and passionate, fitting in with the rest of the crowd. They were certainly nowhere near the wildest at the beach party; in the distance she was sure there was a fully naked woman wracked with orgasms. Surely she wouldn’t be in that position anytime soon; not that she’d thought much about it.

Marcus’s large hands gently applied the sunscreen to her legs as he kissed around her inner thighs, his breath just grazing her core. There was no doubt that he could see her swollen pussy and the way her juices had smeared on her skin.

Erin jumped slightly as he pressed a kiss just at the edge of the fabric. Her fingers tangled in his hair and encouraged him to kiss closer. She needed anything she could get, and two could play the game. “C’mon baby, don’t be shy.”

A low moan left her lips as he obeyed, kissing her mound through the fabric. He sucked lightly, catching her clit.

Erin’s eyes rolled to the back of her head. “Fuck….”

Then he pulled away, leaving her throbbing. Tease.

“Do you like this, honey?” he asked lowly, eyes dark with desire. “Do you like knowing people can see you?”

“Yes,” Erin moaned, arching her back as one of the women cupped her tits, the soft flesh overflowing. She gasped as Marcus pressed his lips to her mound again. The touches felt like heaven; it had been too long since anyone had given her this much attention. “I want people to know what you do to me.”

He hummed softly, reveling in Erin’s neediness. “Look at you… So beautiful. You’re so wet, baby, I hope you’re having fun. But you need to behave, or you don’t get to cum.”

She pouted as he stood back up, the pout melting into a smile as he kissed her deeply. A shiver ran down her spine as his hand came up to play with the ties of her bikini top. Barely above a whisper, she said, “Just a few more hours before we can get started.”

The few hours dragged on much longer than she and Marcus thought; it must’ve been from the heat. As they mingled with the crowds and made out like horny rabbits, the sun barely inched towards the horizon.

Thankfully, time had not stopped, and the house was eventually opened for the dinner party.

She and Marcus changed into more appropriate outfits for the house party, hers made from a thin black fabric that just barely contained her tits. The skirt of the dress had two slits on each side, allowing her legs to peek through the curtains when she walked.

It was easy enough to scope out the layout of the house, walking around with Marcus’s hand on her waist and the occasional kiss. Everything was going to plan; all they had to do was to get into the office, pull the data, and get out. Easy, right?

They slowed as they approached the entrance to the office, Erin running her hands down his chest. She toyed with the buttons of his shirt. Fluttering her eyelashes at him, she asked, “Baby, have I been good enough for you today?”

“You have,” Marcus replied, eyes raking down her form. Backing her into the office, he said, “I think you’ve earned this.”

Once he closed the door, they launched into action. It only took a quick scan of the room to know that there weren’t any cameras installed; it seemed like that was a theme in the house. Perhaps it was a precaution on the host’s part for the art dealings.

It didn’t take long for Erin to find the records on the computer, and within a couple minutes the data was downloading onto the flashdrive. It needed just a few more seconds….

Someone knocked on the office door. “Hey, is anyone in there?”

“Shit!” Erin hissed, pulling out the flashdrive and shutting off the computer. As the door handle started turning, she sat on the desk and pulled Marcus onto her, kissing him hard.

Despite his initial surprise, he fell into the rhythm quickly. He pressed her against him and hitched her leg up on his hip. Her soft moans and grinding of her hips sent blood rushing down to his cock, making her gasp. His tongue slipped into her mouth as the door opened.

“Oh, again? Excuse me, sir! Ma’am-”

At the sound of the intruder, Marcus growled and held her to his chest protectively, accidentally pulling the fabric of her dress to the side. Neither of them noticed until Erin arched against him, her breasts freed from their confines. He shuddered as the soft flesh pressed against him; he wanted nothing more than to stoop down and take her into his mouth.

Erin couldn’t help but melt into his touch, rolling her hips against his for more friction. The girth of his cock was undeniable, and her clit was swollen to the point that it rubbed deliciously along his length. Her cheeks burned from knowing her tits were out, but a small part of her couldn’t care less. After all, it was all part of the act, right?

“Hey!”

“Oh!” Erin and Marcus leapt apart, frantically tidying themselves up. She smiled sheepishly at the man standing at the entrance of the office; he must’ve been a friend of the collector.

“Sorry, we got a little carried away,” she apologized, shyly walking out the office with Marcus in tow.

It would’ve been too suspicious to leave right away, so they stayed a couple hours longer. There was music, food, and they had each other’s company. It would have been perfect. However, their little office session had left them more than flustered.

She’d never quite seen Marcus act so rough before–not that he was particularly rough. Perhaps…dominant was a more accurate word. Sure, he was a Heroic, but something about his confidence and strength in that moment made her legs weak.

Despite all this time, she was sure he could make her legs weak in other ways. Her pussy ached as she thought of the way he felt against her, how his hard cock had pressed deliciously against her swollen cunt.

She needed a shower.

The ride back to the hotel was quiet, the two of them snuggled in the back seats like two lovebirds. She supposed they technically were in love, but she knew it wasn’t the same. Part of it was an act to keep the disguise up. The things they did at the party were all for show.

Marcus had showered first after they returned to their room. Meanwhile, Erin wanted to check if they got all the information they needed; the download had been cut short. Upon examination, she discovered they were only able to get about three quarters of the data, which means they’d have to go back and get the last quarter.

It was only after a quick debrief that she finally went to wash up for the night. She gave Marcus a kiss as he passed by, telling him to get some rest. The past few hours had been eventful, and it would only get busier as the wedding approached.

Later, a low moan echoed from the shower, making Marcus sit up. He could hear the rush of water as Erin washed off the day’s sunscreen and makeup. So what was that sound?

He stood from his seat and walked a few paces closer to the shower, straining to discern where the sound came from. It grew fainter as it continued, so breathy he could barely hear it.

What if she was hurt?

The thought of her being hurt spurred him to step in front of the shower, not even realizing what he’d done until the image registered in his mind.

Erin was leaned up against the marble wall of the shower, skin shining and eyes closed. Moans left her lips as her fingers circled her clit. A louder cry escaped as she slipped in a couple fingers, pumping them in and out of her needy cunt.

Marcus gulped and hid behind the wall–she was definitely not hurt. Quite the opposite, in fact. His cock was already rock hard, straining against his pants. A groan escaped him as he gripped his shaft through the fabric.

It was wrong, he knew that. They hadn’t reached that stage of their relationship yet, and he hated that he’d reacted so quickly. Their first time needed to be perfect, not some quick fuck during an op. But the image of her fucking her pussy was engrained into his mind.

Her pussy was swollen and dripping with cream as she circled her pearl, the hair on her mound trimmed neatly. The curve of her hips tapered into her waist, guiding his eyes up to her breasts. Fuck, her tits were gorgeous. Marcus gasped as his cock twitched, a damp circle growing in the fabric of his pants.

Her tits were just as beautiful as he remembered, full and round. Even back then, it had taken all his willpower to not suck her tits; now, it was even more difficult. Thinking back to the beach weekend they shared years ago, he wondered how he resisted.

“Oh fuck,” Erin moaned. Her other hand groped and squeezed her tits. She imagined the hands weren’t hers, but Marcus’s. Those big, warm hands had felt amazing against her skin, and she was lucky that her dress was long. After their little...session, she’d been dripping down her thighs. More than once, she considered dismissing herself to the bathroom for relief. But if the tight coil in her belly was any indication, it was good that she didn’t. Weeks of edging meant she was going to come hard, harder than she ever had before. The only question was: when?

A voice in the back of his mind told him to join her in the shower and help her reach her peak, but he stopped himself. He couldn’t do that to her. It wasn’t the right time.

The mattress molded to his body as he settled in on his side of the bed. His heart beat rapidly in his chest as he realized he was going to be sharing a bed with Erin. With the love of his life.

His cock lay thick and heavy under his pajama pants, showing no signs of becoming less obvious. The thought of Erin catching him made his cock twitch, the ache of arousal making every movement unbearable. He needed to take care of himself fast, not that it would be difficult with what he’d just seen.

The slow drip of her cream was burned into his mind. Although her fingers had spread it all over her pussy and inner thighs, it continued to seep out. He wondered what she would look like if it was his cum, his seed deep inside her.

“Fuck.” He just pulled out his cock when the shower shut off, the rustle of a towel reaching his ears. Absentmindedly, his hand moved up and down his shaft, squeezing the hot flesh to mimic the tight walls of her cunt. Precum dripped from the tip, pooling on his stomach. Marcus scooped it up with a finger and popped the sweet substance into his mouth. His eyes widened as footsteps approached the main room.

Quickly, he covered himself with the blanket and turned to his side, only realizing after she entered the room that he forgot to tuck himself back into his pants. The thin blanket did nothing to hide it, the hard length visible to anyone who looked at him.

The burn of Erin’s gaze as it traced the swell of the blanket made his balls tighten in anticipation, though he knew he wouldn’t be getting anywhere that night.

Smirking slightly, Erin wordlessly walked to her luggage and dropped the towel to the floor. Her tanned skin glowed in the light. Marcus’s mouth went dry as she bent over to pick out some nightclothes, the lips of her pussy peeking out between her thighs. Fuck, her ass was beautiful, too–

Almost as if he weren’t there, she turned around with a small lacy camisole, the fabric mostly translucent. She slipped it over her head, the lace stretching over her breasts. Then, she slipped on a pair of sleep shorts, forgoing any panties. He nearly choked on air as she pulled them up higher, her lower lips emphasized by the tight fabric.

He watched as she dried her hair, admiring her figure. How was he going to fall asleep when she looked like that? Just the sight of her was almost enough to make him cum, his cock twitching under the blanket.

Then,  she snuggled up against him after climbing under the covers, her back to his chest. She grabbed his arm and guided it around her waist. The position made sure they were pressed against each other; she had to have felt his erection against her ass, but she didn’t seem to mind.

Marcus sighed and nuzzled her neck. “Goodnight, honey.”

She hummed tiredly. “Goodnight, my love.”

---

Fuck, she was so tight.

Erin moaned as Marcus’s hands trailed down her wet body, holding her against his chest as he fucked into her. Her walls clenched and sucked his cock as deep as possible, not that she could tighten much more. The girth of his cock was nearly too much for her to take.

He groaned as his cock grew slick with her juices. “You’re so fucking tight, honey…. Feels like you’re milking my cock.”

She whined, “I want to milk your cock, Marcus. I want every drop inside of me. Please don’t stop, I’m so close!”

The sound of their skin slapping together echoed in the shower, along with their guttural groans.

Looking down, he almost came right then and there. Her ass bounced deliciously for every thrust, the flesh supple and round.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum!” she cried out. She grabbed his wrist and brought it down to her clit, begging him to rub it. “Please make me cum, I need it so bad. Please, I want to milk your cock.”

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he grit out, circling her clit. His thrusts were unrelenting even as his own orgasm approached at light speed. “Cum for me, honey. Fuck, cum for–”

He woke with a sharp gasp, burying his face in her neck as he came. Shudders wracked his body as his cock shot rope after rope into his pants. It was the most he’d come in a long time, his hot seed completely coating his length. His cock was nestled between her ass cheeks. He hoped she wouldn’t wake up.

But when he tried to move his arm from her waist, she held him in place.

Her hips ground against his hand as she seemingly tried to relieve herself, the slick juices from her pussy pooling in his palm. Every circle of her hips dipped his fingers into her cunt, which fluttered at his touch.

Erin moaned softly as she grew closer to ecstasy, the combination of his hand and his rock hard cock almost too much. A familiar pressure deep inside of her swelled, the same one that had teased her in the shower. The same one that had soaked her mirror, drenched her toy in juices. The same one that weakened her legs, turned her into jelly.

Kissing her shoulder softly, Marcus showed his hand to a stop right as she was about to come. She couldn’t come—not yet. The mere touch of his fingers wouldn’t satisfy her, and he wanted to take care of her properly. He wanted to give her hours of love and ecstasy.

That morning, Erin woke to an ache between her legs, her pussy still swollen from arousal. She let out a soft groan in disappointment as she felt the dampness in her shorts; had she come? Why else would her cunt be fluttering around nothing?

She moaned as she slipped a single finger into her folds. Just the small insertion was enough to make her clench tightly. Rivulets of her arousal ran down her thighs as she pulled out the silver vibrating plug from her luggage.

Sighing as it filled her, she turned it on. The familiar vibrations made her moan out.

It was going to be a long day.

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@cinewhore​ @randomness501​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ @miraclemoreno​ @halfwaythereroyal​ @fioccodineveautunnale​ @talesfromtheguild​ @tortles​ @ladamari68​ @theokatcov @snivellusim @starryluce​ @inked-poet​ @this-cat-is-dea​ @shedobewritingalittle​ @chews-erotically​ @thefandomimagines​ @emesispo​ @bitchin-beskar​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @nerdypinupcrystal​ @dishonouringmycow​ @sarahjkl82-blog​

HONEYDEW:

@leemorrigan @houseofthirst​ @meshlamando​ @engineeredfiction​ @inkyzinky​ @thedazeinmylife @theoutsidelandhere​ @parkjammys​ @giselatropicana​ @a-skov​

[yourstrulylightstar283]

I am glad Marcus and Sarah got a happy ending they wanted! 😀

Congratulations on PWC! It seriously one of my all time favorite stories. The way you wrote the relationship between Marcus and Sarah is just beautiful! I’m so happy that they are happy and content. It’s a perfect end to a perfect story. Thank you so much! I appreciate all your hard work at crafting such an amazing world with beautiful characters. Time to binge the whole thing! Love ya! ❤️

-🐈

Kitty anon! Thank you so much! It a big emotional moment for sure, and while the story is done it doesn’t mean good bye. I anticipate many many stories are still left to be told for Marcus and Sarah 🖤