#marcus moreno fiction

[pedroshotwifey]

One Condition

This is actually a requested fic from the lovely @survivingandenduring! You can view the request here if you'd like!

Pairing: Marcus Pike x fem!reader x Ezra (Prospect)

Word count: 4.9k

Tags/warnings: unprotected piv sex, sex pollen trope, dubcon, unprotected anal sex, double penetration, oral sex, cum eating, so much cum like its kinda scary, Ezra being a nasty little freak, anal fingering, pain kink, big fat juicy plot twist, this is absolutely nasty shit, stuff I'm probably forgetting, I'm actually not sorry at all for this

Summary: You and your partner, Marcus Pike, get stranded on an inhabited planet and run into problem after problem. You find yourselves in a compromising position that requires help from a strange man, who comes to you with one condition.

A/N: Uhhh. don't look at me 🫣

*****

“Um, Marcus?” 

You look at your partner, who has the same worried expression on his face as you. 

“Yup.” 

It’s not a question. You’re both thinking the same thing; you’re in the wrong place. 

It looks similar to the planet you were supposed to be landing on, but most of the scenery here is a lush green instead of the blue hues you’d been expecting. It’d looked the exact same from above the atmosphere, but there is a clear difference now that you’re on the surface. 

Marcus mutters a curse under his breath but begins the landing sequence anyway. That’s probably for the best; that way the two of you can figure out where you really were, and then where you actually need to be going. 

Dust comes up around your shuttle as you touch ground, the greenery around you rustling a bit as the jets power down. You get up from your seat when you feel the craft settle enough for the floor to be stable. 

Marcus follows, shutting everything down and then unbuckling himself from the pilot’s chair. You’re already on the other side of the small contraption, looking through the maps you have stored in the tiny compartment of the far wall. He comes up next to you and pulls up the planet encyclopedias, trying to find a description that matches the world you’ve landed in. 

You spend the next few minutes flipping through various books and maps until Marcus comes across a planet that matches. He hands the book over and points at the section. 

“Here,” he points. “It looks like we're on a sister planet to the one we’re supposed to be on.” 

You hum in agreement, reading the small passage provided next to the picture.

“Alright, well, let’s get her powered back up.” 

Your partner sighs, running a hand over his face. You furrow your brows. His face has paled a bit and he seems a bit reluctant to follow your request. 

“Is there a problem?” 

“Yeah, actually. We’re out of fuel,” he admits, trying and failing miserably to maintain eye contact. 

You gape at him. 

“Marcus! You were supposed to fill her up before we fucking left! It says here that there’s no civilization!” 

He nods along as you scold him, knowing it’s well deserved. 

“Yeah, I know. I forgot until we were halfway here, but I knew it would take just enough to get us on planet, and we could get more from there. It’s not like I knew that we would be landing on the wrong planet” He spews it out, not defensive exactly, but regretful. 

You groan and walk back to the front of the ship, checking the fuel gauge. 

“We’re running on fumes right now, I don’t know if it’s going to be enough to get us to the neighboring planet.” 

You look at him, trying to keep your anger from showing up because you know that it was genuinely an accident, and Marcus isn’t usually one to mess up like this. But of course when he does, you get stranded on an unknown planet.  

Rubbing your eyes, you walk in a circle around the floor, trying to think of a plan. You can feel Marcus’s guilty eyes following you until you come to a stop. 

“Okay,” you start. “The book said that this planet is typically only used for mining aurelac, right?” 

Marcus nods slowly, obviously confused as to where you’re going with this. 

“Well then there should be at least a few miners on planet in that case, right?” 

He nods again, furrowing his brows in thought. 

“So we should go out and try to find someone to borrow some fuel from?” he asks. 

“Yes. Either that or see if there’s someone who can hitch us a ride.” 

He sighs and puts his hands on his hips, his gaze downcast to the floor as he thinks through the options.

“Yeah, seems like our best bet,” he agrees after a minute. 

Within a few minutes, you both pack small bags and suit up to withstand the harsh environment of the planet. According to the book, the air is extremely thin and can sometimes hold toxic chemicals depending on other factors. You follow Marcus out of the craft and watch as he makes sure everything’s sealed correctly, before you both start walking into the woods. 

“Do you know where you’re going?” you ask after you’ve been walking for a while.” 

Marcus looks at you, his expression still holding hints of guilt. 

“Not exactly. I think most of the mines are located in the forest though, so we’ll just have to keep walking and hope we come across—” 

“Shit, Marcus!” 

You yell for him as he stumbles across a root and tumbles down into a pit. It’s not super deep, but just enough so that he could have seriously hurt himself with that fall. You carefully slide down the side of it to join him. 

“Are you okay?”

He looks up at you from where he’s planted on his back and groans a bit. He opens his mouth to reply and that’s when you see that his mask is on the ground next to him, crushed into several pieces. 

“Shit,” he croaks, already feeling the effects of the thin air. 

You crouch down beside him, feeling him up for any injuries. 

“Does anything hurt?” 

“Just my head. It’s fucking pounding.” 

You sigh. “Probably from lack of airflow.” 

“C’mon,” you grunt, threading your arms under his. “Let’s get you back and hope that you don’t die.” 

He glares at you but allows you to help him into a sitting position.

“Well, isn’t this unfortunate? Two little birds trapped in a cage.” 

You both jolt at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. You peer up to the top of the pit and find a man standing near the ledge, a blaster aimed directly at your head. He wears a shabby, brown suit with a bulbous helmet that would be almost funny looking if not for the imminent threat he poses. You slowly raise your hands and start to stand back up, a rush of fear creeping up your spine. 

“We’re not armed,” you start. “My friend’s mask just broke; we need help.” You try not to sound too panicked as you explain your situation to the stranger, praying to whoever may be listening that he’s not planning to shoot both of you.

“Don’t worry gem, I don’t want to kill you. I simply would like to assure myself that neither of you had plans of my own execution.” 

You furrow your brows at his choice of wording, his strange drawl only adding to your confusion. 

“I, uh. No.” What else can you really say to that?

You glance down at Marcus and see the same befuddled expression on his face. 

“I will warn you that your…friend”—he cocks a brow at you as he says it—”has chosen a rather unfortunate time to lose his filtration system. Assuming, of course,  you haven’t already discovered the effects of the tainted oxygen.” 

You shake your head as your mouth goes dry. 

“Is—is he going to be okay?” 

The stranger pauses for a moment as if in thought. He cocks his head and then looks back at you. 

“He should be as long as he receives the assistance he should require.” 

“What do you mean by that?” This comes from Marcus. 

The stranger frowns and lowers his gun, which he seems to have just remembered he was still holding up. 

“Are you not familiar with this planet’s cycles?” 

You both shake your heads.

The man sighs and kneels on the ledge extending a hand. You stare at it, neither of you making a move toward him. 

“Do you want to stay in this pit? I think it would be rather unsanitary to do so under your current circumstance.” 

You flash another glance at Marcus, who nods slightly toward you, encouraging you to take the other man’s hand. You step forward and place your palm in his, allowing him to pull you up, and then you kneel to help him hoist Marcus up as well. 

“I’m Ezra,” the man says once the three of you are standing. You introduce the two of you as well, figuring at this point that the stranger has to be at least mostly harmless. 

“Alright, well tell me, little bird; are you and Marcus of the romantic type?” 

You just stare at him, unsure of how to answer that, nor of why he would feel the need to ask in the first place. You can feel Marcus’s eyes on you as your cheeks begin to burn. 

“I–uh…” 

You let your eyes meet your partner’s, a silent conversation transpiring. You’ve engaged in some less than appropriate activities throughout your travels, but it’s always been strictly for stress release or simply a product of boredom. The last few months, it’s been more of an unspoken thing. 

The two of you care for each other and behave as most couples would, but you’ve never actually given each other the labels. You definitely never thought that the deciding conversation would be in the presence of a strange man who seems to be about to deliver some bad news. You’re about to answer when Marcus gives you a short nod, lifting the burden off of your shoulders. 

“Yeah, we are.” 

The man nods, though he’s clearly amused. You’re sure he can see what just happened and must have used context clues to figure the rest out out. 

“That’s fortunate for you. What’s circulating in the air currently is what could be described as an aphrodisiac. I’m sure you’re familiar with such?” 

You and Marcus exchange yet another glance. 

“Yes, we’ve heard of them,” you say. 

“Do you have a craft nearby?” Ezra asks, peering behind you as if he could spot one he missed before. 

You hesitate before answering. Even if he’s seemed to be helpful so far, can you really be sure it isn’t a trap? 

“We have a shuttle,” you decide on just to be on the safe side. “We’re out of fuel though. That’s why we're out here in the first place,” you add just in case the man has some extra laying around for some miraculous reason.

Just then, you near a heavy thud and a groan. You spin on your heel to find Marcus keeled over, his hands over his groin and his exposed skin covered in a layer of sweat more intense than what’s normal for this climate. You’re on your knees beside him within a second, your hands running over him until he flinches away as if you’d burned him. 

“Marcus! What’s happening?” You aim your question at Ezra, who’s still standing above the two of you with an almost pitying expression. 

“The effects are getting to him, little dove. I’m afraid you’re going to need to help him in a timely manner.” 

You think for a moment, knowing getting your partner all the way back to your shuttle is going to be a difficult task in the state that he’s in. 

“I have a camp not too far from our current location, I’m willing to offer up the space on one condition. And before you protest, we both know it’s not safe to engage in life saving activities out here in the open.” 

You stiffen at this. Of course there’s a catch; it’s not common to receive help from a random stranger without them expecting anything in return. You glance down to make sure his gun is still in its holster before narrowing your eyes at his face, not liking the way his smile has turned a bit wolfish. 

“What do you want? We don’t have any coin.” 

“Oh, no, gem. I don’t want your profits. I simply desire to join you and your handsome partner. It’s been a long time since I had something other than my own fist to keep me company.” 

“What?” you bark, slightly humiliated that he would suggest something like that, regardless of how handsome he may be. “No, I’m sleeping with a stranger in exchange for shelter!” 

“Now don’t get feisty, dove. I didn’t say it had to be you,” he says, watching Marcus with a newfound hunger. “Though it would probably be fortunate for your friend here that it was, assuming he is of the hetero kind.” 

“Don’t,” Marcus croaks, looking up at you the best he’s able to. 

You’re torn, knowing that Marcus needs help quick, but not wanting to give either of you up to this man. When it comes down to it though, you’re always going to choose what’s best for your partner. You look up at the man with disdain, knowing that you’re not going to have much of a choice here. 

“Fine. But not him.” 

Ezra’s smile broadens. 

“Very well, gem. Right this way.” 

He turns around and waits for you to get a near-delirious Marcus about halfway up so he’s propped by one of your shoulders. Noticing your struggle, Ezra comes to his other side and mirrors your position, one hand supporting around his waist. 

As you walk, Marcus’s temperature keeps rising and his groans get worse. Fortunately, the man wasn’t lying when he said he had a camp nearby; you only have to walk for about a minute before coming across it. 

He opens up the flap as you get closer, taking the zipper all the way down and helping you ease Marcus in. As you lay him down, you can see the bulge in his flight suit; almost twice what is normal. You hear Ezra zip the opening back up and then step in behind you. 

“F-fuck, I’m sorry, I can’t–” 

Marcus cuts himself off as he shakily pulls down the zipper on his suit, revealing his undershirt and boxers. His hand goes down the latter not a second later, a pornographic moan coming from him as his hand makes contact with his engorged cock. He starts stroking himself under the fabric, panting heavily, and it makes your mouth go dry despite the circumstances. 

“Shit, I-it’s not enough,” he grits out, pumping furiously. There are tears in his eyes as he looks at you, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. 

“Better help him quick, little bird,” Ezra quips from behind you, already removing his attire as well. You comply, though for which man you’re not sure. 

You strip quickly, the three of you tearing your own clothes off at the same time, each of you stark naked at the end. You feel so exposed between the two of them, especially with Ezra, who doesn’t help at all by giving a lewd whistle at the sight of your bare body. 

You give him a look so nasty that you’re surprised he doesn’t drop dead. He raises his hands in defense. 

“Woah, little bird, I meant it only as a praise.” 

You ignore him and turn to Marcus, who’s just now shoving his boxers off. You gasp when his dick springs up, heavy, red, throbbing, and leaking an obscene amount of precum. It’s swollen to a point that looks almost painful. 

You swallow your nerves and try your best to ignore Ezra as you instruct Marcus to lay down on the cot. He tugs you with him, feral to get to you at this point. You fall over him and he immediately starts sucking and licking all the skin he can get to, his hips thrusting up into nothing. 

You see Ezra move out of the corner of your eye, taking a seat in the single chair inside the small tent. You lift your head as much as you can to make sure he’s not going to try anything. 

“Carry on, gem. I’m a patient man; I can wait my turn.” 

If you’re being honest, he looks a little too smug.

Suddenly Marcus is flipping you over, shoving you down to the bed on your back, whispering something you can’t quite catch. He doesn’t wait another second before you feel his cock at your underprepared cunt, and your eyes barely have a chance to go wide before he’s forcing himself into you, groaning wildly as he tugs you down onto him. 

It’s only then that you realize he had been whispering “sorry”. 

You scream and your hands come up to reflexively try to get him off. There are tears as he keeps shoving himself in, stretching you to your limit. Through your blurry vision, you can see tears in his as well, more of shame than of pleasure by his sympathetic expression. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again.

“N-no,” you squeak even as your hands claw at his back from the discomfort. “It’s okay. Don’t stop. Even if I beg you to.”

You close your eyes and try not to focus on the uncomfortable feeling between your legs as Marcus begins to unrelentingly slam his hip into yours. You hear a sound coming from beside you, and turn to see Ezra pumping himself through your blurry vision. It’s a sight that really shouldn't turn you on as much as it does.

You moan despite yourself as the pain coming from your sore cunt turns into pleasure. You’re getting wetter and wetter as the seconds tick by, the glide of your partner’s cock becoming easier and more toe-curling. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he starts to punch that spot deep inside you. You’re getting hot fast, sweat building up in every crease and crevice as your pussy seems to get more hungry for what Marcus is feeding it. 

Each thrust sends you up the bed, but Marcus holds onto you so that you don’t go too far. He’s grunting like a feral animal, his body maneuvering every which way until he finds the position that provides him with the most momentum.  

“Ohh that feels so fucking good, baby,” he hisses through his teeth. “Gods, you always take me so f-fucking well.”

You’ve never heard him talk like this before—with this level of vulgarity. You whimper, making eye contact with Ezra as Marcus nails something even more delicious within you. His gaze is heavy and on your face rather than on your body, which surprises you as much as it flatters you. 

“Does she suck cock just as well?” Ezra’s deepened voice comes from the chair, his eyes still on you as he asks the question. 

Marcus looks down at you, albeit with heavy lids, for your consent. You nod, already fucked out beyond thinking clearly. 

“Better,” comes Marcus’s reply, his stare just as heavy as Ezra’s. “Why don’t you come see for yourself?” 

You moan at the thought of being taken from both ends, one of the domineering men on each side. This is going much better than anticipated, both your mind and body opening to the stranger despite your earlier protest. 

Ezra doesn’t have to be asked twice, already getting up to hover his thick cock over your face, slapping it gently against your lips. The cot is the perfect height for him to stick it into your mouth, though he waits. 

“You want this, gem?” 

You almost find it funny that he’s asking, considering he didn’t give you much of a choice earlier. You nod anyway, because you honestly do, your gaze is trained on it as your mouth waters. He threads one hand through your hair, pulling you into the right position, and then uses his tip to part your lips. 

He moans as he sinks in, his eyes fluttering shut as you immediately wrap your tongue around him. You find yourself groaning at his salty taste, savoring the weight of him as you start to pull him in. Your cunt throbs as he and Marcus both moan out at the same time, Marcus doubling over while Ezra bottoms out. 

Marcus brings one hand to your clit and begins rubbing up and down at a furious pace that would have made you scream if not for the other man’s cock in the way. Tears leak from your eyes as Ezra begins to pump in and out of you, his hips thrusting as he uses the hand in your hair to hold you where he wants. 

“Oh you feel devine, little gem,” he moans, his eyes still closed and his lips parted as he picks up the pace. You can feel him hitting deep inside your throat, making you resist the urge to choke. It’s overwhelming but in the best way. 

“Oh, fuck!” Marcus nearly shouts the curse as his hips stutter. “Come with me baby, come on,” he urges, moving his hand quicker. 

Your back arches up at the feeling, though you’re still pinned by both men. Suddenly, everything flashes white, your hearing going dull as your entire body convulses with the power of your orgasm. You have just enough brain capacity to think that this has got to be the highest level of pleasure attainable. 

It goes on forever, your pussy pulsing as you sob and moan around Ezra’s cock. You faintly hear Marcus’s own moans and feel his dick twitch and throb within you, coating your walls in his creamy white spend.

You don’t even realize you had closed your eyes until you open them again upon feeling your own drool dribbling down your cheeks to mix with your tears. Ezra coos down at you, wiping away the saliva though he doesn’t dare slow his pace. 

“M-messy little bird,” he laughs.

You glance back down at Marcus the best you can just to realize that he’s still hard as a fucking rock. He’s still riding out his own high, rocking slowly to prolong it as much as possible. His eyes flick back up to yours after a moment, and then to Ezra’s who watches him intently as he continues to defile your throat. 

The gurgling sounds coming from you should be downright disgusting, but they only add to the eroticness of what the three of you are doing right now. The tent seems to have filled with the thick scent and humidity of sex, making your head even more foggy than provided by your orgasm. 

Ezra’s not far after the two of you, grunting heavily and pulling on your hair to a painful level. He pulls out and strokes himself over your face, letting his cum splatter across your features right after you close your eyes. His thumb comes to your lips, making you open your mouth as he moans aloud. 

Some of his seed falls on your tongue, and you swallow it down as Ezra finishes the last few spurts. You open your eyes when you’re sure he’s done, panting and gasping despite your sore throat. 

It’s at the same time that the two men pull away from you, and you’re extremely confused until you see that they’re maintaining eye contact, seeming to have had a silent conversation while you’d been distracted. 

Suddenly, you’re being lifted by the both of them, your body being rearranged to their preference. You’re so fucking tired, but you do your best to comply with their actions. You’re being lifted onto Ezra’s lap when you finally understand their plan. 

His cock is only half-hard after his orgasm, but he begins rutting himself against you regardless as Marcus disappears from your line of sight. You half-collapse on Ezra, moaning as your clit gets stimulated thanks to his thrusts. 

“Second drawer, pretty boy,” he pants. You hear shuffling and then Marcus returning behind you before you get the chance to ask what he was doing. There’s a pop from behind you, and then a cold substance at your ass. 

You yelp at the unexpected feeling, only to be shushed by Ezra. 

“Hush now, gem. I’ve heard you have experience in this area.” 

He smirks at you as your cheeks heat. 

You moan suddenly as Marcus slips a finger past your tight ring of muscle, pumping a good few times before adding a second. He leans close and whispers praise into your ear, telling you how good you’re being for them, how well you’re taking it all. 

He works you up to three fingers before he pulls his hand from you and helps lift you up, propping you up enough for Ezra to notch his tip at your thoroughly soaked cunt. You help the slow descent down his shaft, your lips parting and eyes pinching shut at the sensation. 

Ezra chokes on a groan, squeezing both of your ass cheeks as you bottom out. 

“Fuck, little birdy, your heavenly cunt should be reserved for those of immortal status.” 

You don’t even have the energy to cringe at his wording, instead savoring the way he fills you so nicely, not as long as Marcus, but a good bit thicker. The coarse hairs above his cock rub against your oversensitive clit nicely, making you want to rut against him. Just then, you feel Marcus settle in behind you again, dragging you partially onto his lap so you’re over his cock. 

“Ready, sweetheart?” He asks, clearly having regained some of his gentlemanly status after quelling his lust a bit. You whimper and nod at him, and he starts to push inside of you. 

“Oh, Gods,” you moan, wrapping your arms around Ezra’s back and digging your nails in for stability. He hisses and increases his grip on your ass, keeping you spread for Marcus as his hips come flush against you. 

You’re already so full it’s dizzying, so when the two men start to move, you think you may come on the spot. Ezra goes first, pulling out a bit and then sinking back in, which is when Marcus makes his move, repeating the other man’s actions. Your knees are planted on the cot, giving you the opportunity to move with them. 

The three of you are panting, moaning messes, hot breaths fanning across each other’s skin as you nuzzle together. The pace starts out slow, but quickly picks up, increasing your combined noises. Both of the men start to grab at you, moving their hands and groping anything and everything they’re able to. 

You can feel their cocks rubbing against your middle wall, creating an intoxicating feeling that you know you’ll miss when this is over. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, being so full you can feel them in your stomach. 

Small whimpers begin to spill from your mouth, but are quickly caught by Ezra, who captures your lips in a sloppy kiss, his spend from earlier mixed between your tongues. It’s difficult to keep it up with how much you’re being jostled, so he gives up after a moment and instead opts to lick his cum off of your sweaty cheek. You’re pleasantly surprised when you feel Marcus’s hand come up to grasp at your chin, tilting your face so that he’s able to do the same on the opposite side. 

The two of you clean your face with their tongues as they thrust into you at a punishing pace, somehow hitting spots you didn’t even know existed. You let out a raspy groan, your hands scrambling over both of their bodies for purchase. 

A heat is beginning to build once again in your abdomen, pleasure licking up your spine. It only takes a few more alternating thrusts before you’re coming around their cocks with a scream. You tighten around both of their throbbing cocks, getting them closer to their own ends. 

Marcus comes first once again, still slightly affected by the drug from earlier. He bites onto your shoulder as he busts inside of you, slamming his hips up and locking in place, his hands coming up to squeeze your tits as his balls empty into your ass. 

Ezra follows right after, seemingly liking Marcus’s idea of a gag, and biting into your other shoulder. You scream again at the pressure of both men’s teeth, your arms raising so you can grasp both of their hair, holding them close. 

Your orgasm lingers for as long as theirs do, the three of you coming completely down at the same time. You stay in a sweaty heap for a long time, just trying to catch your breath and make sense of what’s real and what’s not. 

You all fall apart after a few minutes, exhaustion officially taking over you. You can feel both of the men’s cum leaking from your holes as they pull out and help you lay comfortable on the cot. They get situated next to you, and you’re all out like lights within the next minute. 

The next morning, Ezra’s waiting for the two of you with a portable can of fuel and an extra mask. Your departure is swift and unawkward, Ezra walking with the two of you back to your ship like you’ve known each other for years. It takes a bit longer than it should due to your body being practically fucking wrecked from last night, but both of the men help you get along. 

When you reach your craft, you all say your goodbyes, knowing this will more than likely be the last time you’ll come across this strange man. To be frank, you’re still a bit confused about what exactly transpired last night, but you choose to ignore it. Your head is pounding with what feels like the worst hangover you’ve ever had, and you’re just eager to get off of this nightmare planet. 

Ezra watches you fuel up your craft and then take off, smiling and honestly quite satisfied with himself. Neither of you even figured it out that he was the one who planted the trap and laced the dirt pit with the drug, nor that he may have let a bit more slip inside his tent.

***** I mean really, do we really expect anything less from Ezra?

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[baronessvonglitter]

Welcome!! My name is Adriana, a very ambitious person who is also quite lazy, and I love to write. My blog is all about Pedro, with a few other fandoms sprinkled in.

Please check below for works on your favorite Pedro boys! (I do not write RPF.)

Feel free to leave an Ask and say hi, discuss fics, or plain just fangirl with me! Some people live in reality; I live in my maladaptive daydreams and I'm so happy here.

(Please be aware that this blog is for those 18 years or older, minors DNI)

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[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Steph, yeeees, finally some 6 sentences fics again 🙏🙏🙏

May I ask for 88. "You're so messy." (or something like this, I can't remember for the life of me... 😅) and Marcus Moreno?

Thank youuu

It's been a while, hasn't it? 😅

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x fem. reader

Warnings: dirty talk, blowjobs, secret blowjob, established relationship, reader has hair to pull

Request your six sentence fic

"You're so messy," he teased, smirk on his lips as he looked down at you.

Humming, eyes watering, you brought one of your hands up to wrap around the base of his cock, your mouth full of him as you bopped your head up and down his hard cock.

One of his hands wrapped around your hair and your eyes dropped close for just a second, anticipating what was about to come, before they opened again, relaxing your throat as you breathed in deeply through your nose.

"But we can make you even messier sweetheart, can't we?" he pulled at your hair and you moaned, your other hand reaching around to grip his ass, making him pull his lip between his teeth as his eyes darkened.

"Gotta be quiet though," he thrust his hip forward, making your choke.

"Don't want our families downstairs to know what a little slut my little wife is, huh?"

[firsttarotreader]

Marcus Moreno - Justice

The eleventh character of our series “Pedro’s Characters as Tarot Cards” is Marcus Moreno. The card representing Marcus is “Justice”.

Justice is about fairness, honesty, integrity and truth. It’s the balance between sides and the accountability for one’s actions. When it comes to making decisions, they are made thoughtfully, considering all sides of the question. A person with the energy of Justice is someone who is guided by a strong sense of moral and ethics. They make decisions based on what is right, and not on personal gain. Their minds work on the idea of justice, of fairness, and they will do the right thing because they believe they will be rewarded in the long run.

Marcus Moreno is an honest man who tries to be the best father and hero while also doing right by his late wife. He makes his decisions based on what is right and what is fair, even when he knows his daughter will be disappointed. He had promised her to not fight as one of the Heroics, a league of heroes, anymore, and he is dedicated to fulfilling this promise, being the most caring and supportive father to Missy. Having lost his wife, Missy’s mother, he carries a sense of duty to honor her. However, when the safety of the world is at risk with the alien invasion, he decides to break his promise to Missy because that was the right thing to do, he decides to fight again as a superhero to try and contain the threat. He still needs to try and save the world, but he is always balancing every side of his life and making an effort to give them equal attention when required. He did promise his daughter to no longer be a hero, but his fellow Heroics members had all been kidnapped by the aliens and only he remained, prompting him to an attempt at facing the enemy to protect the world, save his friends and even his daughter.

Next up, Pero Tovar!

[all-the-things-2020]

Year of Fandom Crossovers: July

Title: “Not All Heroes Wear Capes”

Pedro Character: Marcus Moreno

Fandom Crossover: Star Trek TNG

Warnings: description of panic attack, loss of a loved one

Word Count: ~6800

Summary: 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?

@yearofcreation2023

All Starbases smelled the same, of filtered air and the faint tang of electronics, freshly cleaned carpet and stale coffee. Marcus had grown used to the natural scents of his home in San Francisco: the slight tang of salt from the ocean, the resin of pine and redwood trees in the sun, the spicy-sweet smell of chaparral. It smelled of life and comfort; the Starbase smelled of bureaucracy.

“Check it out, Dad,” his daughter Missy said, dragging him toward a viewport. “You can see all the ships docking from here.” She peered out the transparent aluminum window, her breath fogging up the surface. “Which one is ours?”

“The Enterprise,” he said. “That one. Over there.” He pointed out a sleek Galaxy class cruiser docked on the far right side. 

“She’s one of the best ships in the fleet, Grandma said.”

Marcus nodded. The Enterprise was considered by many the flagship of Starfleet. People had turned down promotions, ships of their own command, to serve on her, to serve with Captain Jean-Luc Picard. It was a great honor — and a testament to his mother’s ability to pull strings — to be posted aboard her. Or so Marcus kept telling himself. 

“Why do we have to wait until 1900 hours?,” Missy lamented. “I want to see our quarters. This Starbase is boring.”

“The ship is undergoing maintenance,” Marcus explained. “No one can go aboard until it’s completed. Some sort of deep cleaning subparticle sweep or something.” He hadn’t really paid attention when he’d skimmed his orders that morning. “Look, why don’t we go back to our room and relax until it’s time to go?”

Missy shook her head, but stopped short of actually rolling her eyes. “I want to watch the ships,” she said. “They’re like big boats gliding into port.” 

He suppressed a chuckle. “That’s why they’re called ships, kiddo,” he said gently. This time Missy did roll her eyes, but she soon turned back to the viewport, entranced by the cosmic ballet outside.

Marcus sat on a bench nearby. The collar of his new uniform was tight and he resisted the urge to fiddle with it. He’d grown used to civilian clothes while working as a Starfleet liaison and had favored loose fitting necklines. Anything too tight reminded him of … he forced the thought away. No time for that, he chided himself. This is a fresh start. He fingered the lieutenant’s pips on his collar. Despite all the talk about new beginnings, this felt like a denial of the past five years. It felt like a betrayal.

************************************************

“Welcome aboard, Lieutenant Moreno!” Commander William Riker was too chipper for Marcus’ taste. He wondered what rumors had arrived on the Enterprise before him. “And you must be Melissa.”

“Missy, sir,” she said, all eyes as she took in the sleek lines of the starship corridor. 

“I stand corrected,” Riker said with a smile. “I’ve asked Counselor Troi to show you to your quarters, and get you settled in.” He nodded toward a dark-eyed woman dressed in civilian clothes who nevertheless had the poise and posture of a Starfleet officer.

“Please follow me,” Troi said. Her voice was slightly accented, something Marcus couldn’t quite place. Oh, right, he thought, half-Betazoid. His mother had sent him a dossier on all the senior officers on the ship, as well as the dozen or so crew members he was most likely to be working with. 

Missy had a thousand questions, which Troi answered good-naturedly. Marcus half listened, focused on keeping his breathing even and regular. The counselor was an empath and he didn’t want her to sense anything other than the usual anticipatory stress of beginning a new assignment. 

“These are your quarters. Missy, you’ll start school in the morning. That’s on deck 14. Do you know how to use the turbo lifts?” After an enthusiastic nod from the girl, Troi turned to Marcus. “And you, Lieutenant? Do you have any questions or concerns for me before I go?” 

“No, thank you, Counselor,” he said. 

Her eyes tightened a bit but she merely nodded and smiled. “Then I’ll see you both around the ship. Welcome to the Enterprise family.”

As the door slid shut behind her, Marcus let himself relax a bit. Missy ran around, checking out every inch of their new living space. Marcus sank into the closest chair. First hurdle cleared.

***********************************

“So, Counselor, what can you tell me about our new lieutenant?” Captain Jean-Luc Picard sipped at his cup of tea. Deanna enjoyed the emotions that emanated from the captain when he was indulging in a cup of Earl Gray. Cozy, she thought. It was not an emotion many would associate with the ever-so-proper Picard, but she knew he liked his little comforts as much as anyone.

“He is very guarded,” she said. “He didn’t speak much, but I know he was very aware of my empathic abilities. He was careful to regulate his breathing. This could have been a self-coping technique, which means he is healthily aware of his own emotions and seeking to control them in a novel situation, or could simply mean he is wary of me and trying to hide his anxiety.”

Picard nodded. “I hope bringing him on board won’t be too much extra work for you.”

“Don’t worry about that, Captain,” she said. “It’s my job to help everyone on board the Enterprise feel safe and supported. Most of our crew only need a little nudge now and then. It’s the interesting cases, like Reg Barclay or Lieutenant Moreno, that keep me on my toes.”

“Admiral Moreno personally requested this posting because of your reputation as a counselor,” Picard said carefully. “She is quite concerned about her son.”

“Understandably,” Deanna replied. “I reviewed his record and he was on the fast track to command. Three days from being tapped for a promotion to Lt. Commander.” She sighed. She didn’t always need to be near someone to feel their pain. “He suffered a profound loss, and it revealed an underlying emotional issue. I know the Admiral would have preferred he continued up the ladder, but as a healer, I have to hope that this will be better for him in the long run than shoving his feelings under the rug, so to speak.”

“I agree,” Picard said. “I have the utmost trust in your abilities, Counselor, and your judgment. We will take it slowly with Lieutenant Moreno. I’ve already spoken to Geordi and he’ll report any possible issues to you, as will Miss Moreno’s teacher. I hate to hover over a crew member like this, but I promised the admiral we will keep a close eye on him.”

“With any luck, it will be temporary, sir. I’ll work with Geordi and we’ll do our utmost to make the transition as smooth as possible.”

“Thank you, Counselor. Dismissed.”

Just before the doors closed behind her, Deanna felt a wave of doubt from the captain. She shook it off. Marcus Moreno was a good man who has simply lost his way for a bit. She was confident she could help him find it again.

****************************************************

The chief engineer greeted Marcus when he arrived on duty the next morning. “Hey, there, Marcus, I’m Lt. Commander LaForge, but pretty much everyone calls me Geordi. I like my team to feel comfortable and relaxed, but I expect everyone to do their best at all times.”

“Thank you, Commander,” Marcus said. LaForge tilted his head, his silver visor catching a reflection of the ceiling lights. “I mean, Geordi.”

LaForge smiled and clapped his hand on Marcus’ shoulder. “There you go. You’ll fit in nicely. Let me introduce you to the folks you’ll be working with to start.”

Ensign Nurik gave Marcus a polite nod and returned to her work, as befitted a Vulcan. Lt. Jamison, however, wanted to chat.

“So, any relation to Admiral Miranda Moreno?”

“She’s my mother,” Marcus said. “Are we starting with the first battery of circuits?”  He gestured toward the open panel in front of them. 

“Um, no, we’re already on the third one,” Jamison said. “Must be a real change being on a starship after being on Earth for so long. I only get back once in a blue moon and wow … you just forget what it’s like being on the planet you evolved for, right?”

“I can start on the fourth battery if you want,” Marcus said. “It’s inside the Jeffries tube, right?” He grabbed a tool case and headed for the tube before Jamison could reply. He wasn’t here to share his life story; he was here to do maintenance and make sure the ship was safe and ready to respond to whatever the captain might ask of her. 

“Yeah,” Jamison’s voice was already muffled by the wall of the tube. “Go ahead and get started in there.”

Marcus opened a panel and began carefully testing the array of circuits he had exposed. It was grunt work, tedious and routine, but it needed to be done carefully and properly, so he focused on it. It was cramped in the tube, but he was alone, with a task before him, so he was satisfied.

A few minutes in, he heard someone at the tube entrance. Please don’t be Jamison.

“I will only disturb you for a moment,” Nurik said softly. “I have completed the second battery and will commence on the sixth one. It will be more efficient, and comfortable for both of us, if we hopscotch.”

Marcus smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard a Vulcan use that term before,” he said, scooting over to give her room to pass by him.

“I have picked up several human colloquialisms working with Lt. Commander LaForge,” Nurik said simply. “They are often more efficient when communicating with humans, in my experience.” She paused behind him. “I believe you find Lt. Jamison as intrusive as I do. He is a fine engineer but he needs to work on his people skills, as Mr. LaForge would say.”

“You don’t call him Geordi?”

Nurik raised an eyebrow. “Humans are altogether too familiar with each other. I understand that it creates a sense of camaraderie, but I cannot bring myself to address him by anything but his title.”

“So I should call you Ensign Nurik at all times?”

“While we are on duty, of course,” she said, settling in front of the sixth battery. “Off duty, if our paths cross, you may address me as Nurik. It is logical that we will become friends.” 

She opened the panel and went to work. Marcus did the same. It was quiet in the tube, but it was a companionable silence. He liked it.

*******************************************

Missy did most of the talking at dinner. It was good to see her so enthusiastic about her new classmates, her teacher, and being on board a starship. “Dad, there’s a holodeck! And we get to use it for physical fitness once a week! Like, we can go rock climbing or play Parrises Squares …”

Marcus cut her off. “Wait, they let you play Parrises Squares in school?” Holodecks had safety features that should prevent any injuries, but even so, it seemed dangerous.

“Well, a sort of modified version,” she admitted. “So we can learn the basics. I promise it’s safe.”

He wanted to say no, to charge down to the schoolroom and tell the teacher that Missy could not participate in anything so risky, but he saw in her eyes that she wanted desperately to fit in. She was a social creature, like her mother, like his mother. He might be content with a quiet evening after a day of meaningful work, Missy wanted friends. She wanted to belong.

“I suppose your teacher wouldn’t allow anything too dangerous,” he said. “But be careful.”

“I’m always careful, Dad.” He gave her a Look. “Well, most of the time.” She ducked her head, probably remembering a few of her more recent escapades. She was a good kid, just a little too eager to jump in if she saw an opportunity to be helpful or to distinguish herself from the pack. Like her mother. The thought made his heart clench and he left the rest of his dinner untouched. 

****************************************************

“So far, so good, Captain,” LaForge said, leaning forward in his chair. “Moreno seems to be fitting in well with his team, especially Ensign Nurik. Jamison gets on his nerves a bit, but he has that effect on everybody. I’m trying to sand off his rough edges, but it’s an uphill battle.”

Troi nodded. “I know Marcus is holding back a bit in our sessions, but I’m not sensing anything troubling from him. He’s still settling in. His daughter is thriving, according to her teacher, and I have definitely felt less anxiety from him when discussing her.”

Picard leaned back. “Would you say that he’s ready to be put into the rotation for away teams, Geordi?”

“Not just yet,” LaForge said. “I’d like to see how he does in the new training simulations Data and I have been working on. Sort of a controlled environment to see how he responds under pressure.”

“Agreed,” Picard said. “I do appreciate everything both of you are doing to ensure that Lieutenant Moreno is successful here. It’s not just because of his mother, I assure you. I’ve looked at his record, and he has the makings of a fine officer, a good leader, but he needs our help to get there.”

“We’ll do our best, sir,” LaForge said.

“I feel it in him as well, Captain,” Troi said. “He’s just afraid to step out of the safe place he’s built for himself. Once he can do that, his potential will blossom again.”

LaForge chuckled. “Sorry, Deanna, but the idea of Marcus Moreno as a flower just doesn’t quite jibe with the man I’ve been working with.”

****************************************************

Marcus was lying on his back in a Jeffries tube, replacing some junction boxes. It was boring work, but he’d volunteered for the job. It was nice to get off by himself now and then, without the constant need to come up with small talk to pacify Jamison. The man wasn’t really nosy, he just liked to talk — constantly. If you ran out of things to say, he’d start asking questions, which could quickly get too personal for Marcus’ liking. So, he kept abreast of the latest political and scientific news, as well as the sports standings. Jamison was a rabid springball fan and had been on the Velocity team at the Academy.

His comm badge pinged. “LaForge to Lieutenant Moreno.”

“Moreno here.”

“Marcus, remember that simulation you and Nurik did a few days ago? The one with the melted fuses?”

“Of course.” It had been a tricky problem, where a false move could result in the complete loss of the system involved, but also requiring speed to complete repairs before the temperature of the system reached critical.

“Well, we have a similar situation down on Talus IV. We’re on route and should arrive in about thirty minutes. I need you and Nurik on the away team. Report to Transporter 

Room Three.”

“Aye, sir.” So, this was it. His first away mission. He’d been on board the Enterprise for almost two months now and save for a few minor hiccups here and there, things had been going smoothly. He swallowed around the lump in his throat. Time to face his first real hurdle.

He finished up the box he was working on and packed up his tools. He fumbled a little with the latch and stopped to look at his trembling hands. None of that. What would Mom think? He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

By the time he reached the transporter room, Marcus’s whole body was shaking. He told himself it was just excitement, anticipation of taking part in his first away team for the Enterprise, but he was lying. Nurik greeted him with a nod, her face calm and focused as always. Marcus bit his lip, struggling to swallow as the lump in his throat grew larger. The muscles in his neck weren’t responding. He couldn’t swallow; he couldn’t breathe.

LaForge was briefing the team, but Marcus couldn’t hear him. His throat was rigid. He was choking, just like —-

“I’m sorry, sir, I — I can’t —.” He ran from the room, stumbling into the corridor, his hand clutching at his throat. If he just massaged the muscles a little, maybe then he could swallow, maybe then he could breathe.

“Marcus, what the hell?” LaForge was standing over him as Marcus bent double in the corridor. His vision was growing fuzzy around the edges.

“I — I can’t — I’m sorry, Geordi — I — I can’t — breathe.” His lungs hitched as he tried to pull in oxygen.

“LaForge to Counselor Troi. Transporter Room Three corridor, now.”

**************************************************************

Captain Jean-Luc Picard leaned back in his chair, his hands steepled in front of him. “Have a seat, Mr. Moreno.” He simply looked at Marcus for a moment. “I could have you brought up on charges of insubordination.”

“Yes, sir,” Marcus replied. “I know, sir.” He stared at the floor, unable to meet the captain’s eyes. He was ashamed of himself.

“However, it appears to me that your actions were not deliberate, that there was no malicious intent behind your refusal to join the away team,” Picard said. “And I do not believe in punishing someone for something they have no control over.” He leaned forward, his voice softening. “I know what it’s like to be haunted by a memory, Mr. Moreno. And I have no doubt you will be able to come to terms with it, given enough time and assistance.”

“But I don’t want to,” Marcus admitted. “I was perfectly happy in San Francisco.” He looked up, met Picard’s gaze. “Rejoining Starfleet was my mother’s idea, not mine.”

Picard nodded. “I gathered as much from her messages to me,” he said. “And while I do believe you have the right to choose your own path in life, I think your mother had the right idea, getting you to face your bete noir now before you became too entrenched, too set in your ways.”

Marcus closed his eyes. “I only did this because of Missy,” he said. “She … she was bored on Earth. She’s like her mother, sir. She wants the stars.”

“And you are a good father, and you are giving her the opportunity to try out her dreams,” Picard said. “I know this is hard for you, Mr. Moreno, but Counselor Troi and Commander LaForge and I are here to help you. I see the makings of a fine officer in you. Otherwise, I would gladly send you back to San Francisco. But I owe it to Starfleet — and to you — to assist you in becoming that officer.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You will return to your post in Engineering and continue your sessions with Counselor Troi. This incident will be noted in your record, but there will be no repercussions, no formal action taken. Dismissed.”

“Thank you, sir.” Marcus left the Ready Room, feeling the gaze of several bridge officers on him as he walked quickly to the turbo lift. He knew the rumors had already spread throughout the ship. Moreno had a breakdown. Moreno refused to beam down. Moreno was a coward. Moreno was unreliable. As the turbo lift doors slid shut, he rubbed his hand across his face. He wondered how much Missy had heard, and how much of it she believed.

********************************************************

She was sitting on the couch, reading on her padd when he came home. “Hey, Dad,” she said quietly.

“Hey. How was your day?”

She shrugged. “Okay.” She laid down the padd. “Counselor Troi came to see me. She told me about what happened. She said … you might not want to talk about it and that was okay.”

He sat beside her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Only if you want to. I don’t need to know.”

“Yeah, you do,” he said. “Look, I just wasn’t ready for an away mission. I thought I was but my body knew otherwise.”

“Did you get scared?”

He took a deep breath. “Not exactly. It’s … hard to explain. You know how most animals have a flight or fight instinct, right? But when your body can’t decide, sometimes you freeze instead.”

“Is it … because of Mom?”

Marcus closed his eyes. “Yes,” he admitted. His hand crept toward his throat and he had to concentrate hard to stop it. 

“It’s okay,” Missy said, taking his hand. “We don’t have to talk about it anymore. I’m just glad you’re okay now.”

“You are the most amazing girl in the galaxy,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “So much like your mother.”

“But I’m like you, too,” she said, her voice small. “I get — frozen sometimes.”

“We all do,” Marcus said. “I just have a harder time getting unfrozen than most people.” 

“Grandma said you were so quiet when we first went back to Earth. I guess you were kind of frozen, huh? But you thawed out.” She poked him in the ribs.

“Yeah, I did,” he said, poking her back. “Now, what do you want for dinner? And don’t say hot dogs again.”

*********************************************************

“I’m fine, Mom,” Marcus said. His mothers’s image on the screen was slightly distorted, probably due to the nebula the Enterprise was currently studying. It was playing havoc with the sensors and most of Engineering had been working overtime to track down all the little anomalies. “Just had a long shift yesterday.”

“Well, don’t let them overwork you, mijo. If you have to name-drop me, do it.”

“I wouldn’t do that, and you know it. We’re all due extra shore leave because of it, so no one is complaining.” Except Jamison, but his complaints were more just a matter of speaking his frustrations with the situation out loud instead of keeping them inside like everyone else. 

“And how’s Missy? She sent me a message a few days ago about a report she’s doing for school, but I haven’t had a chance to talk to her.”

“She’s doing really well. Has friends and started a Kadis-kot club. You were right; she needed this.”

“So did you. Captain Picard forwards all the reports he gets from Lt. Commander LaForge and Counselor Troi.”

Marcus’ jaw worked as he held back a smart remark. “I wish you’d stop monitoring me like that, Mom. It feels like I’m back in school, trying to get a good report card. It’s bad enough knowing they’re talking to the captain about me.”

“Fine, I’ll tell him to stop sending updates. Forgive me for being concerned about my only son’s welfare.”

Marcus sighed. “I know you’re concerned, Mom, but please … let me do this at my own pace. In my own time.”

She leaned closer to the camera. “If you can’t participate in an away team by the end of your first year of service, Starfleet can recall you. In fact, I’ll make a point of it. You can’t waste time, Marcus. The Enterprise needs a crew member she can rely on. Missy needs a father she can rely on.”

“That’s not fair! I haven’t done one thing to jeopardize Missy.”

“Then why did she message me in tears after that panic attack you had a while back? Why did I have to reassure my granddaughter that everything was going to be alright, that her father isn’t crazy?”

Marcus stood up. “I talked with her. She’s come to a couple of sessions with the counselor. She understands, Mom, which is more than I can say for you at the moment. End communication.” He punched the interface with more force than was strictly necessary, but it felt good. No one could soothe him like his mother, but at the same time, no one could push his buttons faster. 

************************************

“You seem agitated,” Troi said, leaning back in her chair.

“I had a conversation with my mother earlier today,” Marcus said.

Troi laughed. “Say no more. I am very familiar with the stress of conversing with one’s mother. Mine may not be a Starfleet admiral, but she has her own very strong sense of importance. And parents often have a hard time seeing their children as independent entities.”

Marcus shifted in his chair. He could never quite get comfortable in it, which probably had more to do with his reluctance to be in therapy than any ergonomic aspect of the chair’s design. “She said something that made me mad,” he admitted.

“And what was that?” Troi’s voice was calm and neutral, as always. She was an excellent counselor, and he would have opened up more to her if he hadn’t known that her reports were landing on his mother’s desk.

“I’m not sure if I should confide in you. After all, she told me Captain Picard forwards all your reports to her.”

“I don’t reveal anything personal in my reports,” Troi said evenly. “Just my impressions of your emotional state. Counselor-patient privilege is very important to me.”

Marcus bit his lip. He’d been doing that less often but his mother’s words had brought the habit back. “She said … if I can’t go on an away team by the time I’ve completed my first year on the ship, she’ll have me recalled.”

Troi nodded. “And why did that make you mad? I would have thought you would welcome the opportunity to return to Earth.”

“Because Missy is so happy here,” he said. “She had friends back in San Francisco, of course, and she did well in school, but ….” He took a deep steadying breath. “I get up in the morning and she’s sitting on the couch in our living room, staring out the window at the stars. She keeps a log of every system the Enterprise visits and researches every planet, every nebula, everything we encounter. She wants to be a stellar cartographer. I can’t take her back to Earth.”

“But you’re afraid you won’t be able to stay on board the Enterprise.”

He nodded. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough to fix this, Counselor. I want to be, for my mother, and for Missy, but …”

“You have to be strong for yourself, Marcus,” Troi said. “Not for me, or the captain, or even for your family. For you. Don’t deny your true self just to please others.”

“So you think I should quit. Just give up, go back to San Francisco.”

“No, I think you should do what you want to do. Your mother and daughter will understand if you can’t remain on a starship. They won’t love you any less. I promise you they want what’s best for you. We all do. And we still believe that being an officer on this ship is the best path for you. But you are the only one who can make the final decision, and you don’t have to make it today. You have over five months left before the deadline your mother has given you. A lot can happen in that time. Look how far you’ve come already.”

“I want to try,” he said. 

Troi smiled. “Then let’s work out a plan to help you achieve your goal. I’ll request some holodeck time, so we can do some desensitization. You’ve done very well in the training simulations, according to Geordi.”

“Because I know they aren’t real,” Marcus admitted. “I appreciate the offer, Counselor, but I don’t think playacting on the holodeck is going to help me.”

***********************************

“I talked to Grandma today,” Marcus said over dinner. “She said you’d sent her a message about a school project.”

Missy nodded as she chewed a big bite of spaghetti. “Yeah,” she said when she’d swallowed. “We’re doing a project about heroes and I wanted to know if she still had any of those drawings I did when I was little, when I was obsessed with superheroes. Remember?”

Marcus nodded. He did remember. After her mother’s death, when they were still adjusting to life back on Earth, Missy had spent hours drawing and painting pictures of superheroes, men and women who used extraordinary powers to save others. Some were ancient Earth characters, like Wonder Woman and Spider-Man; others more recent creations like The Photon and Blue Bat’leth. 

“Did she have them?”

“Yeah, she’s going to send me some holoscans of them so I can pick out which one to put in my project. Ms. Karatha has been talking about how some heroes are larger than life, like story characters, and others are real people who do heroic things. We’re supposed to find an example of each kind in our cultural heritage, and also in a culture we aren’t familiar with. Kraathaa and I are collaborating; she’ll teach me about Andorian stuff and I’ll teach her about human stuff.” She pushed her spaghetti around on her plate. “We also have to write about someone we know who is a hero, but I’m kind of stuck. I haven’t been on board as long as the other kids, and a lot of them know people who did stuff on away teams or during a battle or something.”

“Well, being a hero isn’t always about saving people or winning a battle,” Marcus said. “What about Kraathaa? She was your first real friend here. She welcomed you right away.”

Missy shrugged. “But she didn’t have to overcome anything to be my friend. Being a hero means doing the right thing even though you’re scared, or you know the odds are against you.”

“You’ll think of someone,” Marcus said, his mind already wandering, latched onto her words: even though you’re scared. 

******************************************

“Count me in.”

Geordi LaForge was taken aback. Had he really heard Marcus Moreno volunteer for an away team? “Um, okay, Marcus. But are you sure?”

Moreno nodded firmly. “Yes. It’s routine work, no pressure.” He looked around the briefing table, meeting the eyes of every crew member. “I need to do this.”

Nurik spoke first. “I agree. And I will accompany you.”

“Me, too,” Jamison chimed in. “We’re a good team, you and Nurik and me. I know I talk too much, but between the three of us, we can handle anything LaForge throws at us.”

Geordi smiled. “It’s settled, then. Jamison, Nurik and Moreno will beam down to Beta Doradus V tomorrow and help the research team update their sensor arrays. Let’s get back to work, people.”

He watched as the delta shift filed out of the briefing room. Once he was alone, he pressed a button on his data screen. “LaForge to Counselor Troi. I have some interesting news for you.”

***********************************************************

Marcus hadn’t slept much, but he was up at his usual time to have breakfast with Missy before they headed off to school and Engineering. “We’re doing sculpture today for art class,” she said. “The little kids are using clay but we get to try laser sculpting. Back in the old days they used hammers and chisels, can you believe it? We saw some holograms of ancient sculptures from lots of different planets and it was amazing what they could do with primitive tools.”

“Those ‘primitive’ tools were the height of technology at the time,” Marcus reminded her. “Someday, people are going to look back on what we have and think ‘How did they ever live like that?’”

Missy shrugged. “I guess. But it’s still pretty cool what they could do back then.” She looked at the chronometer. “Oops, I have to go. See you tonight, Dad.”

He hadn’t told her about his away mission. She thought he was just going to spend the day on board the ship as usual. Maybe I should tell her, but I don’t want her to worry. He pushed his coffee away. The last thing he needed today was caffeine.

At 0900 he headed for the transporter room. Nurik and Jamison were already there, Nurik meticulously going over the toolbox she’d packed so carefully the day before. Transporter Chief O’Brien gave him a cheery “Good morning, Lieutenant,” as he walked in. 

No one acted as if this was anything out of the ordinary, but Marcus could feel the panic building inside him. He knew that O’Brien had been briefed by LaForge and Troi, possibly by the Captain himself. He knew that Nurik was watching him, looking for any minute sign of distress. And he knew that Jamison was biting his tongue, full to bursting with words but afraid to set him off. 

“Good morning,” he said. “Are we ready to go?”

Jamison smiled awkwardly. “I think so, if Nurik is done triple-checking her own work.”

“I am finished,” Nurik said. “And there is nothing inherently wrong with triple-checking one’s work. In fact, it is considered standard practice on Vulcan.” She turned to Marcus. “Are you ready to go, Lieutenant?”

Marcus took a deep breath. Even though you’re scared. “Yes.” He stepped toward the transporter platform. Every step was like moving through a strong current of water, pushing him backwards. His heart was racing, his breathing was erratic, his throat was constricting … he paused, took a deep breath and thought of Missy, gazing out the window at the stars, drawing meticulous diagrams of the places the Enterprise had visited. 

“Lt. Moreno?” O’Brien was quiet but concerned. Nurik and Jamison were already on the platform.

“Sorry,” Marcus said. He took the last few steps and centered himself on one of the circles on the platform. “Ready when you are, Chief.”

“Good luck,” O’Brien said. “Energizing.”

The transporter room dissolved around him and Marcus felt the familiar disorientation as the beam reassembled his body on the planet’s surface. There was always a moment when everything was simply wrong before the atoms snapped back into place. And then he was there, on Beta Doradus V and the research team was welcoming them, and he was following Nurik and Jamison into the depths of the facility and nothing bad happened. There were no power failures, no strange creatures appearing suddenly out of the mist, no rocks crumbling beneath their feet, no one being choked to death by tentacles that snaked out of the trees without a moment’s warning … it was all so mundane and boring that Marcus felt like laughing at himself. 

“You’re doing great,” Jamison said about three hours into the work. “I hope you don’t mind, but I looked up your service record and … I can see why you had a hard time. I mean, the last away team you went on — I can’t imagine …”

Marcus laid down his tools. “I couldn’t do anything,” he said quietly. “It happened so fast. Out of nowhere.” He shook his head to clear the thought. “We all know that things can happen fast, but to actually witness it, happening to someone you love …”

Jamison laid his hand on Marcus’ shoulder. “I hope I never find out,” he said. “And I hope it never happens to you again. To anyone.” He gave a half-hearted laugh. “We’d better get back to work or Nurik will be tattling to LaForge.”

“Yeah,” Marcus said. “And Jamison … thanks. For understanding.”

“Thanks for putting up with me, Moreno.”

********************************************************************

The research team invited them to lunch, which was served on a wide terrace overlooking the forest which surrounded the facility. 

“We like to get outside now and then,” Dr. Kemal explained. “But we’re so busy with our work, we forget unless we make it part of the schedule. So, we eat out here most of the time, unless the weather is really bad.”

Marcus took the seat offered him, under the hanging branches of a tree that provided dappled shade. One of the young research assistants, a girl barely out of university, sat beside him. He thought her name was Dina or Diana or something like that.

The conversation focused mostly on science and some mild gossip about the folks at the other research facility in the planet’s arctic zone. Marcus concentrated on his meal, which was delicious — he’d forgotten how much better fresh food was than replicated — and plentiful.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he spied something snaking down from the tree branch above. He was out of his chair in an instant, his heart racing. It was happening again. It was after the girl. He needed to save her. To his surprise, the scientists laughed.

“That’s just Simon,” Dr. Kemal said. She held out her arm and a long-limbed, long-tailed simian like creature slithered out of the tree and onto her shoulders. “One of the local creatures. They’re kind of like lemurs.” She scratched Simon’s head and the creature made a purring sound. “Simon was curious about us from the beginning, and he comes to visit most days. He’s harmless. Sorry if he startled you.”

Marcus sat back down, feeling a little foolish. It’s just a pet, he told himself. Still, he kept a wary eye on the branches while he picked at the rest of his lunch. He’d feel safer once they were back indoors and working.

*****************************************************

When they returned to the Enterprise, Counselor Troi was waiting. 

“How do you feel, Marcus?”

“Worn out,” he admitted. “I had a few … moments.”

Troi smiled softly. “That’s only to be expected. No one is ‘cured’ overnight. These things take time, but you’ve cleared the first hurdle and now it will be easier to build on that success.” She led him out of the transporter room. “I hope you don’t mind, but I let Missy know that you were on an away mission, so she wouldn’t worry if you didn’t get home on time.”

“No, no, that’s fine,” Marcus said. “I should have told her this morning, but I didn’t want her to worry about me.”

They entered a turbo lift. “Deck 8,” Troi said. “I’m off duty now, but don’t hesitate to contact me if you need anything. You did excellent work today, Marcus, professionally and personally. You should be proud.” The door opened and she stepped off the lift. “Good night, Lieutenant.”

“Good night, Counselor.” The doors slid shut and the lift continued on its way to his own deck. Things hadn’t gone perfectly — he was still beating himself up over the Simon incident — but they had gone well. He’d gotten onto the transporter platform without panicking, he’d performed his duties to the best of his ability, and his team had completed their work in the time allotted. Lt. Commander LaForge would compliment them at tomorrow’s briefing. And Missy and I can stay on the ship.

He was smiling as he approached his quarters. The door slid open for him and Missy popped up from the couch. “Dad! Welcome back!” She held up a drawing that said I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT in multicolored letters surrounded by stars and comets and planets. She giggled and threw her arms around him.

“I wasn’t gone any longer than usual,” he said. “You’d think I’d been gone for a month.” He hugged her tightly, giving himself a moment to blink back the tears that were forming in his eyes before he faced her again.

“Well, yeah, but it’s a big deal,” she said. “When I got the message from Counselor Troi I was scared for a second, but then I was so proud of you.” She led him to the table. “I made your favorite for dinner: tamales! They aren’t as good as Grandma’s, of course, but they’re pretty good for replicated.” 

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Marcus said. 

After they had eaten, Missy cleared the table without being prompted and pulled out her padd to start her homework. “Hey, Dad?”

“Yeah?” He was on the couch, his feet propped on an ottoman, eyes closed. It had been a long and exhausting day.

“I think I know who I’m going to do my hero report on.”

“That’s good.” Maybe he would take a nice hot shower before bed, to relax the tight muscles in his neck and shoulders.

“Want to guess who?”

“Um, I don’t know. Captain Picard?”

She snorted. “Like six different kids picked him. No … I’m going to write about you, Dad.”

Marcus sat up. “Me? But I’m no hero.”

Missy put down her padd. “Yes, you are. You went on that away mission even though you were scared to go. That’s pretty heroic to me.” She came to sit next to him. “I know you were thinking about Mom the whole time, but you went anyway. You did the right thing.”

“That’s not the only right thing I’ve done,” Marcus said softly. “I raised you pretty well, didn’t I?”

“You sure did, Lieutenant.” 

[deadhumourist]

YSC: Heartbeat

Sliding in at the last second, January's entry for Year of Science Fiction, as part of the lovely @oonajaeadira and @writeforfandoms' @yearofcreation2023! It's a microfic because this month was a beast IRL.

Pairing: GN!Reader x Marcus Moreno (Older Marcus Moreno looks like Joel, sorry not sorry! - Takes place a quite a few years after the movie)

Rating: Mature due to sci-fi themes, no spice

WC: 500+ words

Warnings: OOC Marcus, body modification, mention of operations and scars, doctors, dark themes, reader has no physical description and no pronouns. If I missed anything let me know.

Author Masterlist

He was a man with heart, once upon a time. 

He was a man who had a heart until the universe snatched her away and the acidic tendrils of grief burnt through the most powerful and most vulnerable muscle in his body.

He was a sick man. The Heroics Chief of Medicine's voice was flat and emotionless when he said: "Marcus, your ticker is on its last legs. Take it easy."

He was a man who didn't listen. He continued as if the doctor had never spoken, and fought injustice. The injustice of others and of himself without her. And the unbearable loneliness. 

He was a man who was dying. Fingertips digging into the warm, warped tarmac next to him, heart hammering in his chest, panicked, a Morse code for mercy against his sternum. 

Then it stopped. 

When Marcus awakens, the world is curiously quiet. He does not hear the blood whining in his ears or the crackle of ageing cartilage. 

And he does not feel a heartbeat. Not as strong and sure as it had always been. 

Next to his bed, you stand quietly while he orients himself. The white coat fits straight and creaseless around your shoulders, perfectly spotless. Your voice is soft and comforting when you speak, meeting his eyes evenly but kindly. 

"Marcus, we had to replace your heart."

He looks down in a panic, tries to rip the hospital gown off but you stop him, taking his hand in both of yours for a moment before setting it down.

"It will take time to heal, don't cause yourself further pain by looking."

Marcus remembers the pain of every time he looked. 

The anaesthetic means that Marcus is a raw nerve and he doesn't try to stop the unshed tears when they cascade over his cheek. You stop yourself from reaching out by gripping your clipboard until your fingertips pulsate against the white printouts pinned to the hard surface. 

You clear your throat instead. 

"It's made of titanium and doesn't beat like a normal heart, but it will be strong. You will keep living, Marcus."

He may be alive but he hasn't lived in so many years. 

Marcus turns away from you, speaking to the window.

"Everyone is gone. I’m older. I’ve done what you’ve wanted me to do.”

His voice cracks on every second syllable like he’s struggling to talk.

“I don’t want to anymore. Let me go."

Your voice takes on a steely, quiet quality. 

"You will be kept alive, Marcus. Other organs have already been created should you fall on the battlefield, we will be ready. Marcus, leader of the Heroics"

He shudders at the way you speak the last sentence like an incantation. Like a mantra that had been imprinted. 

He turns back to you. You look unperturbed and he wonders why he doesn't remember any specific details. It’s only when he sees more grey in the mirror and another scar that stretches across his hip, or underneath his navel. He has seen them heal slowly. The puckered, angry red indignance at another organic failure fade into a white, raised scar that carries no memory or sadness. He can feel himself become less with each replacement. 

"How many times?"

You look down at your hands, running your thumb over your nails.

"Five. This will be number five."

[pedroshotwifey]

Din Djarin Recs

Joel Miller Recs

Javier Peña Recs

Ezra Fic Recs

Dieter Bravo Recs

Dave York Recs

Marcus Pike Recs

Jack "Whiskey" Daniels Recs

Frankie "Catfish" Morales Recs

Marcus Moreno Recs

Dark!Fic Pedro Character Recs

Non-Pedro Recs

MORE RECS/CHARACTERS TO COME (Updates once a month)

[baronessvonglitter]

Front Covers

A huge thank you to the ever-awesome @saradika who has graciously given her template to use for our imaginations to go wild, and honestly this is feeding my manifestation of one day having something published ❤️

Thank you for tagging me @nerdieforpedro @itwasntimethatdidit40 @sunshinehaze1 @milla-frenchy ✨

Cherry, Cherry: no outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

if love be rough with you, be rough with love: Dave York x f!Reader

Sweet Summer Peach: dbf!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Halftime Show: Joel Miller, Javier Pena, Dave York, Frankie Morales, Marcus Moreno x f!sexworker!Reader

Darlin' Cowgirl: Jack Daniels x f!Reader

Vices: Din Djarin x OFC x bi!f!Reader x OMC

Blue Hour: outlaw!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Pretty Please: QZ!Joel Miller x f!Reader

*This was so much fun I might do a part 2 to recreate the rest of my works! 😊

NPT: @inept-the-magnificent @cas-readsandwrites @strang3lov3 @evolnoomym @greenwitchfromthewoods (apologies if you've already been tagged!)

[for-a-longlongtime]

I don't even know how to explain this series by @radiowallet except for it's fucking perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect. Because you can't just make up a Dieter/Marcus M fic - like, will it into existence - imo, it has to come to you like a muse and present itself from all sides because how would you even write this pairing out of nowhere? (@radiowallet, I'm a fan of all your work but this fic sure is something. This chapter isn't purple prose IMO but I hope you'll allow me to wax semi-poetically about this pairing because oh, how I love these two as a couple).

It's so goddamn wonderful with all of Dieter and Marcus' contradictions and diametrically opposed characteristics, but yet they're exactly what the other one needs. I don't read a lot of Marcus M. fic because it can really easily fall into a trap of being too floofy, too goody two shoes, but this story picks him up and holds him into the light (it's Dieter, Dieter is the light IMO) where you can see all the different complexities and broken shards and him so badly wanting to be good. And loved. And he is. Even if he doesn't dare to fully believe it.

Read and cherish this fic. I'm so so fond of it, honestly. It's so pure (and with that I definitely don't mean untouched because fuck, these two are hot together, especially that bathroom scene) as in, there's no pretense or posturing, just these two being so drawn to each other.

ps: @legendary-pink-dot thanks again for the heads up!

Home

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Marcus Moreno Summary: Dieter takes Marcus to a party in the valley. WC: 4.5K Warnings: 18+ MDNI Sexual content. Exclusive M/M dynamics. Written in third-person POV, male protagonists. Anal sex, dirty talk, kissing, cum play, semi-public sex. Small angsty moments. Yearning. So much yearning. AU Marcus Moreno (no wife, no Missy). A lot of purple prose and waxing poetic.

A/N: Hi, hello, it's been a very very long time since I've shared any writing here. I don't have any good excuses other than real-life stressors, mental health and anxiety, and the overall stress of being on Tumblr really really got to me. I'm trying to ease my way back in. Slowly. I've really enjoyed catching up on all the amazing fics you guys have been writing. Thank you to everyone, still here or otherwise. Even when I was off dealing with irl stuff, I could feel the support.

Pretend Alleyways Masterlist II Main Masterlist

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

Marcus chewed at his nail bed, surveying the house from the backseat of his Uber. It was hardly the first time he’d pulled up to the Sherman Oaks home. He was comfortable with the routine at this point. Tapping in the code for the front gate with practiced ease. The same one Dieter had scribbled onto the back page of a forgotten script after that first night together in New York City, his cell ringing incessantly from his back pocket, a car waiting down the curb to whisk him away. Marcus swore he could still taste the mint and menthol on the actor’s breath when he stepped in close and pressed the paper into his hands, kissing him until his toes curled. 

“Please say you’ll come visit.”

After that, it had been one strategically planned visit after the other. Marcus was almost mathematical in his process, arranging flights out west around his patrol schedule, switching shifts, and taking on extra duties just to rationalize the time away. Burning the candle at both ends but not caring even in the slightest, happy to run his tank on empty. He’d drive all fucking night if it meant more time with Dieter. 

So he took to the task with a vigilant level of focus, texting details and arrival times, the actor responding with a barrage of emojis, always ending with a heart. 

Marcus liked the way the little pixelated picture made his stomach flip.

Once together, it became less of a routine and more of a dance, the two of them falling into an easy rhythm that Marcus had no desire to predict. They would lose themselves in each other, wrapping tightly around the other, the heat impossible to turn away from. There were late nights and early mornings, the color of the sun replacing the hours on the clock. Sometimes, he would give up on sleep all together, content to match the actor’s eccentricities, watching Dieter move from room to room, minute to minute, until the other man would return to his arms. 

But as each visit came to a close, Marcus would find himself falling back on easy habits, his mind already making plans and rearranging schedules, focusing on that instead of the overbearing weight of goodbye. 

In the middle of one farewell, Dieter had grinned and nipped at his bottom lip, a tease curling around the curve of his cheek. 

“Don’t worry so much about the vigilante shit, sweet boy. You’re welcome anytime.”

Marcus had frowned at that, but Dieter was unfazed, humming an off-key pop song under his breath before giving one more piece of advice. 

Be spontaneous. 

Marcus had gnawed on those two words the entire plane ride home, the concept both enticing and diabolical at once. He imagined all the ways he would have spoiled Dieter if they lived in the same zip code. Spur of the moment cups of coffee, flowers just because, nights in and out and everything in between. But even those daydreams felt out of reach, Marcus unable to let go of the need to control everything. Everything. Everything that he possibly could. 

Except Deiter Bravo. 

The actor was bound for overseas, a six-month shoot looming ahead, lonely and large. They had spent the weekend before much the same way they had any other. Twisted together, sweat and cum and lips and hands pressed into bare skin, ignoring the ticking of traitorous time. Cruel miles were taking the other man away from him, and Marcus couldn’t stop the swell of jealous fear flaring inside his heart. 

Would he even be missed when the whole luminous, wonderful, exciting world was waiting for Dieter on the other side of the tarmac? 

A deep cough from the front seat dragged him back to the present, and before he could second guess himself again, Marcus climbed out of the car, tapping out five stars with one hand and grabbing his overnight bag with the other. He hesitated, just the smallest moment of debate, before he knocked, three sharp raps on the large black door. There was a shout from inside, Dee’s voice alerting someone he would get it, a breath and a curse as the lock was fiddled with, and then they were standing face to face after only 39 hours apart. 

Dieter seemed shocked to see him and he didn't bother hiding it, his jaw dropping in time with his arms, the shirt he had been buttoning hanging open to reveal his bare chest. Marcus couldn’t help but steal a glance of tan skin and a soft belly, licking his lips in anticipation. When Dee called his attention back up, the other man was smiling wide. 

“This is…”

“A surprise?”

“A great fucking surprise.” 

It was almost a blur after that. Fumbling hands and broken laughter as they came together in a messy kiss. They managed to make it up the stairs and down the hall, Dieter’s bed barely breaking their fall. 

Marcus wanted to take his time, should have been taking his time, but Dieter’s voice was in his ear, thanking him — thanking him? — for showing up tonight. Thanking him and begging him and pressing salt-slicked lips into the curve of his neck. And before he could breathe the other man in, savor the moment that was coming out of nowhere, they stripped away each and every layer, Dieter panting beneath the hurried press of Marcus’s fingers deep inside. 

Sooner rather than later, Marcus was sliding into the other man one final time, their hips flush and their fingers laced. He came with a groan, face buried into the dip of Dieter’s neck, while the actor sunk his teeth into his shoulder, the pleasure burning away into the edges of pain. Only after they both found their breath, bodies pliant and limbs loose, did Marcus find his voice. 

“Do you want to order in?”

Dieter didn’t say anything and Marcus craned his neck up to peek past the other man’s chin and catch a glimpse of him worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Did you already eat? Because that’s okay.”

“No…,” he started, fingers tracing a line of muscle from the top of his shoulder and back around, lingering along the teeth marks he left there only minutes earlier. “I haven’t eaten. I…there’s this thing I have to….well, not have to. I was getting ready for it when you knocked—“

“Dee?”

“There’s a party,” he finally blurted out, eyes finding the swing of the ceiling fan above, a grimace pulling his lips into a jagged line, a deep shade of pink settling on his cheeks. 

Marcus leaned up on his elbow, watching the small battle of wills dragging across Dieter’s face. He thought maybe he should try to comfort the other man but he was suddenly anxious, those creeping realities working their way up his spine. 

“A party?”

“Yeah, it’s sort of this farewell thing my friends are throwing,” he explained, not needing to. “Really, just an excuse to get blitzed.” 

The lack of eye contact suddenly made much more sense. 

“You wanted to go.”

It wasn’t a question. 

Dieter was up and over him in a flash, one large hand bending around Marcus’s jaw, thumb pressing the seam of his lips shut. “I didn’t want to be alone.” 

Marcus pursed his lips, the pad of Dieter’s thumb still pressing firm. He felt the callous from where Dee cheated his paintbrush, a perfect spot to push a kiss before pulling away. 

“You want to go.”  

Dieter searched his face, eyes wide and cheeks flushed, trying to pull apart the determined set of Marcus’s jaw. When he came up empty-handed, he fell back to his elbows with an exaggerated sigh, one large hand still cupping the cut of the hero’s cheekbone, keeping his thumb close enough to touch. 

“I want to go with you.” 

———————

Marcus smiled from where he was leaning against the doorway, watching Dieter rummage through his ridiculously sized closet, a string of muttered musings leaving him as he pulled item after item off of hangers. The Heroic had slipped back into his jeans and t-shirt once the decision had been made that they would attend the party together, not really packing (or owning) anything that fit the L.A. scene. 

He was two steps towards the bathroom, intent on fixing his messy hair when Dee stopped him with a strong grip on his elbow. 

“Leave it,” he teased, a quick kiss pressed to his lips, fingers tugging at one of the sweat-slicked curls. 

Now he was standing behind him, sliding a stone-washed jean jacket up one arm and then the other, one more kiss, this time gifted to the back of his neck. The jacket hangs a bit loose around him, Marcus guessing a mix between the cut and style, and Dieter’s broader frame both at play. He couldn’t help himself, tugging the collar to his nose and inhaling deeply, the smell of weed and cologne and something subtle sweet filling his lungs. 

He felt Dieter’s eyes, watching him carefully in the reflection of the mirror, his hands finding the dip of his waist beneath the bulky fabric, gripping hard then soft, one, two, three times. Marcus took in the pair of them — sex-mussed hair and bright blush on him, wild eyes, and a teasing smile on Dieter — and he suddenly had no desire to go to this party. Any party. 

No. 

All he wanted was for Dieter to pull this jacket off the same way he had so easily slipped it on, and drag him back down to the safety of the mattress. 

“Come on, sweet boy,” he hummed, the hook of his nose tracing the shell of Marcus’s ear. “Sooner we get there, sooner I get to take you home.”

The word followed Marcus down the stairs and out to the car, his stomach flipping each time he let the meaning of it roll around inside his head.

Home?

———————

Driving in L.A. was an experience in and of itself. Marcus had made his own attempts, managing to find a rhythm in the few times he had been sent out to the west coast on assignment. It wasn’t much different than driving in any other city, as long as you were prepared to sit in what felt like endless hours of traffic. Of course, Marcus had the pleasure of abusing side streets and off-ramps when it came down to emergency situations. 

Driving with Dieter behind the wheel was a different experience altogether. He seemed unfettered by speed limits or traffic lights, one hand on the wheel, the other wrapped around Marcus’s knee, singing along to the song on the radio but only getting about half the words right. If not for his powers and years of honing his reflexes, Marcus would have maybe suggested he do the driving when he was in town. 

As it was, it was nice to settle into the plush leather seat and listen to Dieter’s slightly off-key voice, his hand squeezing Marcus’s knee in time with the beat of the music. He leaned back and closed his eyes, weighing the risk of asking Dieter to just keep driving. Maybe if they kept going, all night and all day, they could avoid the inevitable goodbyes looming in the distance.

———————

The last time Marcus and Dieter had been at a party together, they had only ever heard of each other, recognizing names and faces from newspapers and movie screens. They didn’t know any different than what was said in headlines or plastered on billboards, rumors and hearsay coloring in their opinions of one another. How many assumptions had Marcus made about the actor upon that first meeting? That he was pompous. Self-centered. Selfish. An addict. An asshole. A monster. 

Or maybe Marcus was afraid that was how Dieter saw him. 

The monster in the night. The shadow that lurked in the corner. Fighting away the evils of the world, the palms of his hands so very dirty with blood and secrets and violence. Living in the between of good and bad and never knowing where he really stood.

But when their eyes met across that darkened alley, only the glow of Dieter’s cigarette casting shadows between them, those half-truths and packaged lies that Marcus took for granted started to fall away. Somewhere between their small secrets and one smokey kiss goodnight, he started to learn who Dieter Bravo really was. 

This party was different in so many ways than that first elegant affair. Gone was the light classical music, replaced with something loud, a heavy bass and fast lyrics. Bowls of chips instead of passed trays. Stiff black and white was traded in for soft denim, Dieter’s scent surrounding Marcus from room to room. They entered the party together, no longer separate, no longer strangers, and instead more.

So much more.

Dieter’s arm was wrapped around Marcus’s waist, holding him close by his side as they navigated the packed mansion. The crowd parted around them, little waves of people ebbing and flowing to make room for the two men, boisterous cheers of joy raining down upon them. Dieter preened beneath the attention, his smile wide and his cheeks warm, the hand wrapped around Marcus’s waist squeezing hard to grab the Heroic’s attention. 

“They like to make a fuss,” he hummed into Marcus’s ear. 

He couldn’t help but cock his own grin back, turning his head just enough to brush his lips along the shell of Dieter’s ear, delighting in the shiver that followed. “I think you like the fuss.” 

———————

They get separated about an hour in, an inevitability between the number of people vying for Dieter’s attention and the sheer size of the house. Marcus excused himself to the bathroom, trying and failing not to be annoyed when the first empty one he found was on the opposite end of the party. By the time he made it back to where he left Dieter, the other man had moved, now sitting on a couch, friends and fans alike draped around him. 

There was something strange about watching Dieter Bravo in what some would consider his natural habitat. He was bright and shiny and impossible to look away from. He almost looked relaxed, his arms thrown over the back of the sofa and his legs stretched out long, only the tap tap tap of his heel giving him away.

Marcus wanted to insert himself. To crowd himself beside the other man and press his palm to the bend of his knee in hopes of soothing away the small tremor of anxiety, but he hesitated, his own worries holding him in place. So he stayed where he was, back glued to the wall, arms crossed and frown firm, as he tried to decipher the scene playing out in front of him. 

Was Dieter’s laugh real just then? Or was the one Marcus had teased out of him hours prior? The sounds seemed so similar, a copy of a copy that looked and felt and sounded real. Were his cheeks pink because he preferred their attention over Marcus’s? Or was it because this room was too damn hot? What did it mean when Dieter touched her knee? Or kissed his cheek? Or leaned a little bit more into their touch? 

And why did Marcus care? 

He didn’t consider himself a jealous man. 

But it almost felt inevitable, the dark tendrils of jealousy seemingly always present, ever since that fateful moment in the alleyway, smoke and secrets traded away for unspoken promises for more. Marcus clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes, watching the other man glow beneath the attention of others. Was it merely a reflection back of the attention poured upon him? The mirrors of a disco ball catching in the light and shining for the delight of others? Or was Dieter just enjoying another moment in the limelight? 

Marcus couldn’t seem to see the line between real and fake, or what side he stood on. 

Someone handed him a drink in the midst of his brooding, and the sting of the alcohol paired well with his bitter mood. He was trapped in a hell of his own making, refusing to look away from the crowd gathered around Dieter, but hating every second of it. 

The jealousy burned inside of him. What had just been something dark mingling in the background was now present and in full force. Marcus was jealous. Jealous at how effortlessly Dieter lived his life, able to navigate crowds and fame and fervor without ever breaking a sweat. Jealous at how his smile seemed just as bright as it had when he opened his door hours earlier. Jealous at how someone else held the attention of his sweet brown eyes. 

And suddenly there was fear. Icy cold and horrifying reality. 

Marcus didn’t belong here. Here with these pretty people and their clean lines and bright lights. He was messy edges and dirty hands, stained with years of violence that would never scrub clean. There was dirt on his ledger and red on his chest, and Dieter was beautiful. So very very beautiful.

Another wave of panic gripped tight at Marcus’s throat. 

When was the last time he told Dieter he was beautiful? Yesterday? Or the day before that? Either way, it wasn’t enough. Not nearly. And he couldn’t fathom a world where he lost the chance to say it again. 

He couldn’t lose this. He couldn’t lose him. 

The lights above them flickered, an unwelcome side effect of his superpowers, Marcus’s unruly emotions too much to handle all at once. It was just enough to drag everyone’s attention up, stealing their eyes away from Dieter, but only briefly. The actor caught his gaze in the small interim, brows pinched and lips curved, his sharp mind putting the puzzle together. Marcus blushed beneath the scrutiny, feeling very much like a child caught in the midst of a crime. He slammed the cup down on the nearest surface he could find and shoved his dirty hands in the pockets of Dieter’s jacket, and turned away, the lights flickering one last time as he made a quick and embarrassing exit. 

From behind he could hear the shout of a stranger.

“Hey, Dee where’s your boyfriend headed?”

Marcus was so focused on the fact that someone else called him ‘Dee’ that he missed the way Dieter's eyes lit up at the word boyfriend.

The bathroom he had found earlier was blissfully empty, and he took care to lock the door behind him. He braced himself against the sink, the cool porcelain a balm to the heat of his palms, breathing in and out, sharp and fast, to match the beat of his heart. A knock came seconds later, Dieter’s voice chasing the sound. 

“Let me in, Marcus.”

It didn’t sound like a request.

Marcus unlocked the door with a flick of his wrist, and the actor slipped in, eyes pinning him in place as he locked the door behind him. For a moment both of them refused to speak, 2 feet of space between them, and enough silence to last a lifetime. It was Dieter who finally broke the tension, stepping forward until Marcus was within his reach, the palm of his hand cupping his cheek to keep him close.

“Flattered as I am, I can’t decide if I like jealous on you or not.” 

Marcus knew it was foolish to lie at this point. If his fucking superpowers hadn’t given him away, then storming off surely had, and any denial would have rung hollow. Besides, they had promised. Months ago, in an opulent hotel room, cum and sweat sticking them together. They promised to always be honest with each other. 

“I don’t belong here, Dee.”

“Shut up.” The sentiment came out as a tease, the tip of Dieter’s thumb tracing the stubble along Marcus’s cheek, but the look on his face was serious. 

Marcus shook his head, unsure how to say what had seemed so clear to him only minutes ago. “I’m not…I’m not g–”

“I swear to fucking all, if you say the word ‘good,’ Moreno.”

His mouth clamped shut, and he smiled for the first time since he left Dieter’s side earlier in the night. The other man yanked him in for a quick kiss, only pulling a breath away when he spoke again.

“You are better than all of us, sweet boy. Please tell me you know that?”

Marcus wanted to shake his head in disagreement, the very idea that Dieter saw the good in him too much to bear, but the actor was already kissing him again, lips slanting sweetly along his own. When they broke apart for the second time, Dieter said it again, and then again, each time pairing a kiss with his words. Marcus thought maybe he would have kissed him a hundred times and then a hundred more, praise and adoration passed between them until the inevitable end of time caught up. 

But then Dieter crowded in closer, kissing him with much more fervor, his intent clear. Hands scrambled as belts were tugged free and pants were pulled down, bodies twisting until Marcus was plastered to Dieter’s back. He slipped inside the broader man easily, still slick with his release from earlier. Dieter whined at the stretch, pressing back into Marcus, fingers curling around the edge of the bathroom counter as he began to beg. 

“Hard, baby. Please.”

Marcus nipped at Dieter’s ear, refusing to move, the entire length of him buried to the hilt inside him. “How hard?” 

“Hard,” Dieter begged again, squirming in Marcus’s tight grip. “Hard as you can. Need to feel you. F-feel so good.”

It was an intoxicating rush, reducing Dieter Bravo to stumbling pleas and wanton moans, and Marcus swore as long as he was able to pull air into his lungs he refused to take that feeling for granted. He pressed a soft kiss to Dieter’s skin and gently nudged his nose to the back of his head, coaxing his gaze up to meet Marcus’s in the mirror. 

He dragged his hand up Dieter’s chest, stopping to feel the steady thump of his heart, one, two, three beats, before moving up to wrap his fingers around the other man’s throat. He whined again, writhing to and fro, the sound more pitiful with each passing second that Marcus refused to move. 

“I’ve got you, mi cielo. I’ve got you,” he hummed the promise, pressing another kiss to Dieter’s sweat-damp curls. He squeezed the actor’s throat again, watching as his cock seemed to pulse in time with the action. He bit back his own groan, his own cock painfully hard where he was buried inside the other man. 

“M-marcus…please…”

When he finally moved, it was slow, almost torturous for the both of them, but Marcus refused to be rushed. Not this time. Fuck any and everyone who dared to knock on that door. That dared to interrupt them. That dared to break between this moment. He pulled the other man closer, one arm wrapped around his waist, the other still gripping tight to his throat. Dieter’s hands were still scrambling, designer soaps and over-priced products falling to the floor as he seeked some sort of leverage. He finally found it, stonewashed denim bunching between his fingers as he dug them into Marcus’s forearms.

And only then did Marcus give into his request, snapping his hips as hard as he could, teeth sinking into the curve of Dieter’s neck. There would be bruises, bad ones, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, too overwhelmed at the thought of marking the other man as his own. Dieter didn’t seem to mind either, begging Marcus again and again to give him everything he had. 

“Want to feel it,” he sobbed, the pleasure just on the other side of pain. “Want to feel you when I’m gone. Please.” 

“You will, baby. I promise,” Marcus growled. “You’ll feel me for days. You won’t forget me. P-please… don’t forget me.” 

The admission fell out of Marcus before he could stop it, along with his own broken sobs to match. The pain and tears burst to life, the broken pieces he had hidden all over his body finding new life as he begged Dieter to take it all with him. Each slam of his hips and bruising touch of his hands. Every bite from his teeth and kiss from his lips. The words and the promises and the things neither of them knew how to say but felt all the same. 

“Take me with you, Dee. Please, take me with you.” 

“I will, sweet boy,” he gasped, his body shaking beneath Marcus’s anguished hands. “Sweet boy. Good boy. I promise.”  

Dieter came first, though Marcus wasn’t sure how, his sobs and sighs of pleasure long past any sort of coherence. His cock twitched and pulsed, coming completely untouched. Marcus watched Dieter’s face break apart in the reflection of the mirror, his brown eyes wild and skin flushed, lips parting around a feral scream. 

Marcus fell apart in kind, sparks of heat bursting at the base of his spine as tight velvet squeezed around him, Dieter’s voice in his ear, his jacket sticking to his skin. He spilled inside the other man, tears and spit and snot pressed into Dieter’s neck, little words of praise coaxing him through the brunt of it. Eventually, the tears turned to laughter, the two of them clinging tighter as they made guesses at how many people heard them.

“Either way, I hope they enjoyed the show because I sure did,” Dieter teased, nipping his teeth on the hinge of Marcus’s jaw. 

They did a piss poor job of cleaning up, Dee’s cum barely wiped clean from the porcelain with a towel found below the counter, too high a thread count for something so filthy but neither man really gave two shits to look for an alternative. The products were tossed haphazardly into the sink, the idea of stacking them neatly ridiculous. They both agreed; you get what you ask for when you throw a party in the valley. 

Marcus took better care when it came time to clean Dieter up. He warmed up the water from the sink as best he could, using that same fancy towel from before to wipe up the trickle of cum slipping slowly down his backside. He couldn’t stop from stealing one small indulgence, using his thumb to press some of himself back inside the other man, Dieter’s legs visibly shaking from the sudden stimulation. Marcus shushed him with a soft kiss to one of the many bite marks littered across his neck, humming out a quiet apology.

“Do they hurt?”

“They do,” Dieter grinned, tilting his chin to admire the marks as he tugged his jeans up over the swell of his ass. “I’m gonna need a few more before I get on that plane tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmmm, definitely.” 

Dieter pressed something hard into Marcus’s hand and when he looked down he could see it was his car keys, the silver teeth catching in the light. 

“Take me home, sweet boy. I have plans for you.”

There was that word again, breathed out so easily, like a promise he knew he would keep. 

Home. 

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Steph! For the smutty fics:

Marcus Moreno and "Open wide for me."

Okay, thanks, byeeee 🫠

lol I can write a sequel to the other six sentence fic right away, thank youuuuu

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x gn. reader

Warnings: smut (oral male receiving)

"Open wide for me," Marcus whispered, mesmerised that he had you on your knees in front of him, your big eyes staring up at him, your mouth dropping open obediently.

He hadn't planned this when he went out to the bar tonight to meet some friends, unaware you would be there too.

One thing led to another, the both of you talking all night, before you asked him if he would like to come back home to yours before you kissed for the first time, his mind going blissfully blank for a small moment, before he crowded you against the nearest wall, deepening the kiss, both of you forgetting where you were for a moment until you heard the whistles from the crowd inside the bar.

Now he was here, in your apartment with his cock in his hand and you on your knees in front of him, your tongue out, your mouth wide open and he didn't waste any more time, slowly pushing his cock inside your mouth, groaning at the feeling of your warm lips closing around his length.

"What a good little... fuck," he chocked on his words, surprised as you pushed closer against him, his cock slipping down your throat, your eyes watering, yet he could see the challenge in your eyes.

This was going to be one fucking long night.

[cassiopeia-grimm]

Pick your favorite character❤️‍🔥

[firsttarotreader]

Get ready for tomorrow, the last character we’ll have for a while. 😭

Special Series - Pedro’s Characters as Tarot Cards

(Ongoing)

Dieter Bravo - The Devil

Agent Whiskey - Judgement

Oberyn Martell - The Sun

Din Djarin - The Chariot

Joel Miller - The Hanged Man

Javier Peña - The Emperor

Dave York - The Moon

Javi Gutierrez - The Star

Silva - Temperance

Frankie Morales - Strength

Marcus Moreno - Justice

Pero Tovar - The Tower

Marcus Pike - The Lovers

Ezra - Death

Max Phillips - The Wheel of Fortune

Max Lord - The Magician

Mrs. Flores - The Empress

Zach Wellison - The Hermit

Lucien Flores - ? 😊

More characters on the way!

All art made by my lovely friend who wants to stay anonymous EXCLUSIVELY for the blog.

[whataperfectwasteoftime]

The Rift - Chapter Six

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Marcus Acacius x Marcus Pike x f!Reader

Rating: E (explicit smut, 18+ only)

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: M/M/M/F dynamics, lots of m/m action, blow jobs, rimming, oral sex, unprotected PIV sex AND anal sex (this is fiction!!!). If I've left anything obvious out please let me know.

Summary: The tension between the four of you finally comes to a head.

A/N: I have nothing to say for myself. I'm honestly a little nervous to post this, because writing this was difficult (in the technical sense). Most of my mental energy was spent trying to keep track of what four people are doing at any given moment and trying to keep track of which Marcus is speaking, so I'm honestly not entirely sure if it's sexy or not. Let me know, LMAO.

Masterlist | Chapter Five | Next chapter>>

Marcus Acacius moves quickly. Sitting sideways on the couch, he gently guides you back against his chest.

“I cannot deny that I enjoy the hard angles of another man,” he says lowly, dragging his hands indulgently up and down the sides of your body, “but there is nothing quite like the softness of a woman. You,” he says to Marcus Pike, jerking his head toward the man next to him, “kiss him. He wants you to desperately, I can see it in his eyes.”

The Agent tears his gaze from the sight of you being caressed by the General and turns to Marcus Moreno. 

“Desperately,” he teases, gently taking hold of the man's belt loops and pulling their bodies flush together. 

“Exaggeration,” Moreno grins, but you can see the way his eyes are fixed on the other man's lips from the other end of the couch.

“Sure,” Marcus murmurs, and presses their lips together. 

The Hero whimpers softly into the kiss, and the other man takes the hint and deepens it, tilting his mouth and bringing his hand up to guide Moreno’s jaw.

“Does it excite you?” The Roman rasps in your ear. He licks a stripe up the shell of it before continuing, “The sight of two beautiful men locked in an embrace?”

Giddily, you nod. In your wildest dreams you've never imagined seeing Marcus Pike quite like this. He kisses the other man with a gentle passion, but there's strength in his movements, a quiet command that leaves you with no doubt as to who is in charge.

And it's not the leader of the Heroics.

Marcus Moreno’s hands are clenched around fistfuls of the other man’s shirt, and when Pike’s tongue darts out to taste him, the sound that escapes the hero's mouth is nothing short of desperate. 

You can see the way the Agent smiles into the kiss.

“Sorry,” the hero murmurs against his lips. “It's been too long, and I–”

“Shh, I know. It's okay.”

The General’s hands become bolder, teasing your breasts through your shirt and pressing gently against your clothed core. “I want to see their cocks,” he says, the movement of his lips tickling the skin of your neck. “What do you think?”

“Yeah,” you agree breathlessly. “Wanna see that.”

“The lady has spoken,” Acacius says imperiously. “I think you should obey.”

Moreno is already fumbling for the button on the other man's pants before the words have even left his mouth. The Heroic seems to take charge this time, spinning Pike around so that his back is pressed against his chest and he has easy access to hastily free the man's cock, barely opening his pants before wrapping his fist around it and pumping firmly. With his free hand, he manages to undo his own pants, roughly shoving them partway down his hips and pressing his bare cock against the other man's lower back.

“Fuck,” Marcus Pike gasps. “Shit.”

You pant breathily as the man behind you lightly pinches your nipples through your clothes. The Agent clocks it immediately, his eyes snapping to the two of you even as the hero continues to pump his cock.

“This man lied to me before,” the Roman growls in your ear. His hands go to the hem of your shirt as he slowly begins to peel it off and over your head. “He is so taken with you that he cannot determine whether the sight of me disrobing you makes him mad with desire or jealousy.”

“But I'm going to make him a deal,” he continues as he gently slides your leggings and underwear down your legs. “If he speaks the truth now, while my hands are on you, he will be the first to taste you.”

“Tell her,” Moreno murmurs playfully, nibbling on the man's earlobe. “It's more than obvious to everyone here.”

“Enamored,” Marcus says immediately, staring at you with pure, unadulterated adoration. “Besotted. Captivated. Enchanted. Completely and utterly fucked–I never even had a chance.”

“Come taste her lips,” the Roman orders softly, and Marcus is there in seconds, kissing you over and over while the General’s large hands cage your cheeks and guide you against his mouth. 

“Thank you,” he moans over and over against your lips, never stopping the kiss. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

The man behind you cards one hand through Pike’s hair as a reward, and he groans wantonly at the feel of him pulling softly on the strands.

“Come, Hero,” the General murmurs. “My lips have been left wanting.”

You feel the heat of the Hero’s body beside you as he joins the three of you in a heap at the edge of the couch. Acacius makes a soft sound in his chest that you feel, rather than hear as Moreno kisses him.

“We should go to your bedroom,” Marcus Pike says against your lips. “Not a lot of room on this couch.”

“You're going to have to let me up first,” you giggle breathlessly. He shows no sign of ceasing the endless kisses he bestows upon you again and again.

“Let us go,” the Roman says decisively. “More room is needed for all the ways I plan to enjoy all of you.”

It’s a miracle that the four of you make it to the bedroom, the way you all continue to reach for each other. The moment your Marcus comes up for air, the General kisses him hungrily in turn. You look shyly at the leader of the Heroics, biting your lower lip at the way his bare cock still juts proudly between his legs.

“Can I kiss her?” Moreno asks softly, but he’s already reaching for you.

Marcus Pike makes an enthusiastic noise of assent as the other man all but devours him, and the Hero huffs in amusement before bending down to gently capture your lips. The kiss is cautious at first, but when you drag your hands down your chest and lower, giving into the temptation to touch Marcus Moreno’s actual cock, he groans and pulls you roughly against him. He miscalculates his strength and sends the two of you stumbling into the other two men, who both make the same noise of surprise as the four of you tumble in a heap onto your bed. 

“I wanna taste,” your Marcus begs as soon as he has you naked and spread out beneath him. “You promised me a taste.”

The Roman chuckles low in his throat. “I did promise, but it would be rude to keep her all to yourself, no?”

“What do you have in mind?” the Agent asks distractedly, his eyes fixed on the apex of your thighs as he lowers himself down onto his stomach before you.

“Think of how sweet her noises of pleasure would sound with a cock filling her throat.”

You whimper pitifully and give him a frantic nod. “Yes please,” you say quickly. 

Pike laughs. “Greedy,” he teases gently. “We’re going to spoil you, aren’t we?”

He’s still smiling as he licks the first stripe through your wet folds, and you arch your back and gasp at the feel of his tongue. He buries himself between your legs like he no longer needs air, but his eyes are fixed on the way the Roman is undressing above him. Your eyes can’t settle between watching Marcus eat you out and admiring the broad, strong body beside you. 

When the man’s cock bounces free, though, you can’t look away from his thick, heavy girth until suddenly, Marcus makes a desperate, broken yelp into your pussy. When you look back at him, the scene in front of you almost makes you come then and there.

The leader of the Heroics is on his knees too, with his face buried between the other man’s cheeks, moaning as he teases his puckered hole with his tongue. The sensation causes Pike to slump forward on his elbows, and he moans loudly over and over as he fucks you with his tongue.

“You are filthier than I expected, Hero,” the Roman teases. He takes your face in one hand and gently turns your head to the side. With the other hand, he slowly feeds you his cock. The weight of it fills your mouth, but he doesn’t push into your throat–not yet. He’s cognizant of his size, and clearly used to moving carefully. You whimper over and over around him, drunk on the feeling of Marcus’s tongue on your pussy and the other man’s cock gently fucking your mouth. You want more, though, and you try to move closer, bringing his cock further into your throat. 

“Oh, she is greedy, is she not?” Acacius teases roughly. “She wants to be speared by your tongue and my cock.” 

He gives you what you were desperately squirming for–pushing deeper into your throat until he’s buried almost to the hilt. 

“What lucky men we are,” he praises you softly. “How well this pretty little mouth takes a cock.”

Marcus Pike’s hands are rough on your thighs as he expertly brings you barreling toward an orgasm. He’s still whimpering into your cunt as the man behind him pushes even deeper with his tongue. Marcus Acacius’s cock is choking you and making you lightheaded with the lack of oxygen, and when you finally fall apart, you sob and moan and cry around him.

“Sweet girl, so good, takes a cock so well,” he rasps as he withdraws his cock from your mouth. You make a small sound of disappointment, and he chuckles. “The night has only just started, little dove, and there are countless other ways we are going to see you come undone.”

Your Marcus presses one last chaste kiss to the tip of your clit and then collapses on his back beside you on the bed, reaching for Moreno and pulling him until his head is resting on his glistening chest. The Roman lies down beside you as well, trailing his fingers up and down the soft well of your stomach.

“Tell me, little dove, have you ever taken three cocks?”

You nearly swallow your tongue. “...No?” you laugh nervously. 

Marcus Pike chuckles and leans over to kiss your shoulder. “But what a sight that would make, hmm?” he teases.

“As pretty as she would look with that pretty cunt stretched around all of us,” Acacius chuckles, “I had something else in mind for tonight.”

“Plenty of time to fulfill every possible fantasy,” the Heroic remarks lightly, kissing a path down the Agent’s chest. 

“Time tonight, or time in general?” Pike murmurs.

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t plan on leaving this bed for at least two days,” Moreno jokes. 

“Handsome,” Acacius murmurs, capturing Pike’s lower lip between his thumb and forefinger and rubbing gently back and forth. “Have you been taken by a man?”

Marcus grins. “It’s been a long time, but yeah.” He cards his fingers through the hair of the man still resting on his chest. “You?”

The heroic flushes. “I’m… I’m usually the one doing the taking,” he admits with a little shrug. 

The Roman laughs. “You haven’t experienced all that pleasure has to offer until you have tried both.” He brushes your hair back from your forehead. “But I still want to give your beloved a little reward for his earlier honesty.”

You smile conspiratorially. “I’m listening.”

“He wants to be the first to claim you tonight,” he remarks. “And I find I wish to be the first to claim him.”

Your Marcus shudders and groans deep in his chest. “Fuck. Maybe I should be worried about the three of you spoiling me.”

“It would please me to be taken by you,” Acacius says to Moreno, who swallows thickly in anticipation. Turning to you, he asks, “Do you have oil?”

“I–I’ve got lube,” you say with a shrug. 

“This word is not being translated,” he frowns. 

“It’s like oil,” Pike explains. “But intended only for sex.”

“I like this time more and more,” Acacius says, and laughs at his own joke. 

You reach into the bedside table and bring it out of the drawer, handing it to the Roman. He inspects it with curiosity before popping open the lid and spreading some on his fingers and cock. He hands it to Moreno, who takes it, holding the man’s eyes with an intense, burning gaze. 

“Lie down on your side,” the Roman orders. “It will be easier that way with so many of us.”

“Done this before, have you?” the Agent jokes as he obeys, gently rolling you over on your side and then spooning behind you. 

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

Marcus Acacius takes his place next to Pike, grasping his hip and nipping his neck playfully. “Enter her, but do not move,” he murmurs into his ear. 

“Give me some of that,” your Marcus says, holding his hand out toward the leader of the Heroics, who squeezes a little bit on his palm. He slicks his cock, and then gently rubs the rest over your folds, dipping his fingers into you just slightly. “I’ve thought of this,” he murmurs to you as he lines up his cock. “Well, not exactly this scenario, but I’ve certainly wished for this.”

“This night wasn’t in your wildest dreams?” you tease as the tip of him breaches you. You exhale shudderingly as he buries himself to the hilt in one smooth motion. 

“He has thought of all of us separately,” The Roman says confidently. Marcus gasps softly in your ear as the man’s finger eases inside. 

“H-How on earth do you know that?” Pike asks disbelievingly.

“I did not,” he answers. “But now we all know it to be true.”

“Two thousand years between our times, and somehow you’re still a bastard.” Pike grunts. “Shit!” he yelps suddenly–you assume the Roman cheekily added another finger in retribution.

“Behave, or I will give you my cock before you are ready,” he growls playfully. You see Marcus Moreno shift behind him, and the Roman lets out a deep rumble of approval as the other man begins to work him open. 

Your Marcus plays with your clit absentmindedly, making soft sounds of pleasure in your ear as the man behind him continues with his fingers. 

The room is quiet for a little while, filled only with the soft noises of enjoyment from each of you until Marcus Pike finally breaks the silence. 

“Enough teasing, just do it,” he murmurs, reaching behind him to pull at the Roman’s thick cock. 

You expect the man to tease, but he has nothing to say for once. He presses himself flush against the other man and slowly pushes in.

You know the moment his cock breaches him by the way your Marcus’s hands suddenly flex and grip you with white knuckles. You do your best to soothe him, reaching back to stroke his cheek and whispering sweet nothings interlaced with what you’re sure is nonsense. 

“Oh, fuck,” he whipmers over and over. “Oh shit–fuck–oh my God…”

You hear the Roman softly murmuring in his ear, telling him to relax, to let him in. When he’s finally buried to the hilt–and fuck, you know from how deep his cock could reach down your throat that Marcus must be completely overwhelmed by the man’s size–Acacius reaches for Marcus Moreno. 

You’re suddenly hit with the strange thought that all four of you are now connected to each other. It’s intensely intimate; you can feel the breaths of all three men behind you, can sense the rise and fall of their chests. The Roman reaches his arm around both you and Marcus, grasps one of your breasts, and uses the leverage to pull you closer together–and burying himself even deeper. 

“What now?” you hear the Hero whisper humorously behind you. You can tell he’s half-joking, half-earnest, unsure, as you are, of how the four of you… begin.

“We move together,” Acacius says simply. “In unison. Here, I will–” 

He flexes his hips, pushing Pike further into you and eliciting another broken moan from the man currently buried deep in your pussy.

“This way is more slow, but easier to manage all of the limbs, yes?” he says playfully. 

“I can’t imagine the feeling of taking you fast,” the Agent jokes. 

“Next time.”

“That’s fine, because I–oh, fuck–I’m not gonna last, feels too good.”

“Mmhmm,” Marcus Moreno moans in agreement. “Forgot how good it feels to–hnng–”

“Make her come,” the Roman commands. “No one comes until she does.”

“Come for us,” Marcus agrees as he rubs circles into your clit. “Please, baby, before I can’t hold it in any longer.”

One of the men increases the speed and intensity of the thrusts, and all of you moan in sync. You can hear all three of them praising you, pleading with you to come, baby, come for us and it doesn't take much more for you to fall apart in their arms.

Marcus Pike follows almost immediately–the added stimulation of you clenching around his cock pushing him over the edge with a strangled cry, overcome by the intensity.

Moreno’s hips stutter too, and he pushes deep with one last thrust and empties himself into the General.

“Sweet boy,” the man croons, soothing the man in front of him as he chases his own end. He’s sensitive post-orgasm, and he whimpers softly at each punch of Acacius’s cock against his prostate until he finally stills, one hand holding Pike steady as he spills inside of him. 

The Agent curls into you, his chest heaving and his forehead slick with sweat, and completely overcome. 

“That was—wow,” he pants under his breath. 

Marcus Acacius chuckles softly as he carefully separates from the man, eliciting one more broken groan into the crook of your neck and shoulder.

“You okay?” you ask softly. 

“Mmph,” he answers.

“He appears to be completely spent,” the Roman teases. 

“He’s not the only one,” Moreno laughs, pulling out and collapsing on the pillows with a satisfied sigh. “That was incredible.” 

“I will return shortly,” Acacius says abruptly, and gets up from the bed, striding confidently into your bathroom. 

The Heroic flops over into the empty space and curls against the Agent’s back with a soft noise of contentment. 

“I had further plans for tonight,” Acacius says as he returns carrying a warm, damp cloth, “but it appears they will have to wait until after you have rested.”

Despite his bravado, he cleans the three of you with a soft tenderness that makes you ache inside. When he finishes, he carefully places the cloth into the basket you’d instructed him to place his dirty clothes weeks ago, and comes back to lie down behind the Hero, snuggling up against him with a little wiggle of his hips. 

“Someone turn the light off,” Pike grumbles.

“Not it,” you murmur back. 

“I’ve got it.” Moreno tiredly extends his hand. Across the room, a little metal tin that once used to contain tea bags and now holds safety pins rises up from your dresser and levitates across the room to the lightswitch. It hovers over the little lever and then descends, flicking the switch off and bathing the room in darkness. 

[wannab-urs]

Pedro Pascal Character Fic Recs | Vol 44

AO3 | Kofi | Main Masterlist | The Spreadsheet Masterlist

Howdy Folks!

Welcome to the 44th Spreadsheet Digest. It's quite short this week because I've been reading a book and doing last minute Christmas shopping.

As always, if you want to be on the digest, tag me in your work. I will try to read it. I am so behind on my TBR I'm actually scared to look at my mentions... but still tag me please.

Honey, You're Familiar a Dieter one shot by @murder-wife

Stella Stone moved from Hollywood a decade ago following her divorce to fellow actor, Dieter Bravo. She returns when she is nominated for an Oscar and is soon face to face with their contentious past.

angst, smut, unprotected PIV, oral sex, one face slap, no age gap, leaving one or two things untagged for spoiler reasons, you know how I do.

Shadows a Din one shot by @burntheedges

you were pretty sure the ship was haunted.

spooky vibes, flirting, feelings and smut, canon-typical violence (with a bounty), this is a tentacle monster fic and there is smut, so keep that in mind, it's exactly what you think it is, kissing, grinding, fingering, but not with fingers, p-in-v sex, creampie, cuddling, manhandling, except not with hands, if you get my drift, pet names (cyar'ika, mesh'la, good girl), no mention of details for reader other than wearing clothes and being a mechanic

Riduur in Training a Din one shot by @absurdthirst, @storiesofthefandomlovers

You arrive with the Armorer to take your place as Din Djarin's riduur, one that he had no warning of. Trained to be the spouse of the next leader of the covert - you will be dar'manda if he rejects you. And Din is horrified to learn that you have been trained for his pleasure.

Sexual training/grooming, mentions of creeds and honor, cults, playing fast and loose with Mandalorian traditions, removing helmets, forced weddings, nudity, masturbation, oral sex (male and female receiving), loss of virginity, fingering, vaginal sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, humiliation, dishonor, pregnancy

but he's the one I want a Joel one shot by @wheresarizona

All you needed was to see if your dad’s friend, Joel, had a spare key to your father’s house. Instead, you get railed within an inch of your life on Joel’s couch.

DBF!Joel Miller, slightly possessive Joel Miller, pre-Outbreak, age gap, explicit consent, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, dirty talk, size kink, praise kink, spit as lube, overstimulation, sex on stairs, body worship, slight body insecurity, getting caught, misunderstandings, angst with a happy ending, Die Hard is a Christmas movie debate)

Luster a Joel one shot by moon_mint (AO3)

Just my humble contribution to the fine genre of Joel Miller stepdad AUs. Slaps fic like I'm a used car salesman. This baby has grief and trauma! Stepcest! People not knowing how to process their feelings! Messed up families! Teenage hormones! Adult hormones! All in the safety of fiction!

No Outbreak AU, Stepfather!Joel, stepcest, Parental Death, Masturbation, Vaginal Fingering, degradation kink, Angst, PIV Sex, Daddy Kink, Blowjobs, Bad Parenting, messed up and toxic family dynamics in general, Age Difference

how do you sleep? a Joel one shot by @thriftedtchotchkes

joel's always there to comfort you with his words and a warm bed after a nightmare, but tonight, you need a little more

jackson era, soft!joel, comfort, undefined relationship, getting together, mentions of nightmares & insomnia, smut, unprotected piv, slow/intimate sex, creampie

Crash a Marcus M series by @moonlitbirdie (ezrasbirdie on AO3)

Harboring a secret crush on her step-father would be enough to make any girl a little crazy. Years after your mother leaves him, however, Marcus Moreno is still the one you go to when you need saving.

Step-cest, Step-cest adjacent, Step-dad!Marcus Moreno, Age Difference, Missy does not exist, Mommy Issues, Daddy Issues, Manipulative Reader, manipulative marcus, Smut, Angst, Masturbation, Sex Toys, dead dove, Spanking, Dubious Consent

Ma meilleure ennemie an Oberyn one shot by @sanarsi

Your families hate each other but you are young and in love.

forbidden love, hurt/comfort, soft!Oberyn, so much feelings, arguing, young dumb and so much in love

The Graduate Pero one shot @absurdthirst, @storiesofthefandomlovers

From the very first day in his class, you manage to piss Professor Tovar off. Thinking him antiquated as the history class he teaches. Verbally sparring with him until things turn physical in his office, you start hate fucking your professor every chance you get.

Insults, rough sex, hate fucking, verbal sparring, power imbalance, age gap (everyone is legal), squirting, fingering, vaginal sex, oral sex (male receiving), slight exhibitionism, threat of being discovered, hurt feelings, angst

Happy Reading!

[inclusivepedro-oscarlibrary]

Welcome to the Inclusive Pedro & Oscar Library!

ID also in alt txt.

[ID: The banner for our blog! On top of a peach pink cloud background with sparkling stars are two rows of six circles, filled with characters played by actor Pedro Pascal. In the top row from left-to-right, are characters: Din Djarin/The Mandalorian, Javier Peña, Javier Gutierrez, Oberyn Martell. In the fifth circle there is cursive text reading: “The Inclusive Pedro Library.” In the sixth and last circle of the row there is a photo of Joel Miller. In the bottom row from left-to-right, are characters: Jack Daniels/Agent Whiskey, Dieter Bravo, Marcus Moreno, Marcus Pike, Pero Tovar, and Frankie Morales. In the bottom right corner there is text reading: “Tumblr: @inclusivepedrolibrary​.” End ID]

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We recognized a need for an inclusive space for Pedro and Oscar fans on Tumblr, so we decided to start a curated list of fanfics and fan art.

We carefully screen all reader-insert fic recs to avoid white-coded language (such as flushing/blushing, red marks on skin, white-coded hair, etc).

We also want to build a library of POC and other underrepresented authors and artists, and curate fics and fan art featuring Pedro characters with queer and/or POC OCs. (We do not read or reblog RPF, we only accept fics about fictional characters.)

This blog is for 18+ friends only. Minors DNI. Thank you.

Please read the submissions guidelines before sending anything in!

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Fic Recs * Fan Art Recs

POC Writers/Artists * Queer Writers/Artists * Over 30 Writers/Artists * Those who write/draw Plus Size * Disabled Writers/Artists

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Inclusivity Resources

Meet the Mods

Note- Everything without a link is coming soon! Thanks for your patience as we get things up and running!