#we can be heroes fanfic

[psychedelic-ink]

SIL - I love your idea for challenging yourself. (You never fail to impress me with the risks you take!)

How about Marcus Moreno with amnesia trope and a royalty AU?

Love youuuuu ❤️

Cat!!! thank you so much for this one! I don't think I've ever written amnesia before, or a proper royalty au for that matter, and I really enjoyed writing this. Though, I technically Marcus isn't a royal in this but hopefully, you'll still like it! Honestly, I could see myself expanding this one into something longer 🥺❤️ also looking at Marcus gifs gives me pain because he's so dreamy look at his eyes ghhhhhh I'm gonna die

I LOVE YOU MOREEEE ❤️

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒

pairing: marcus moreno x fem!reader

genre: amnesia trope + royalty AU

word count: 878

summary: After surviving an attack that leaves you with no memory of her past and who you are, you, the princess, joins a group of rebels fighting against your own corrupt family's regime.

warnings: brief mention of blood

The wind is a blessing. It can carry on the smells from far off the lands, warn you of either danger or peace. You remember as a child you would constantly sniff the air. Your parents would warn you constantly, berating you and telling you it was rude to behave like a bloodhound. They didn’t understand you. No one in your family did. They didn’t understand that you could tell what was happening by what the wind carried. Be it the scent of blossoming flowers and sunshine or ash that sticks to your lungs. They didn’t understand. 

Now the wind caresses your skin. It’s gentle. Trying to wake you from your deep slumber. The soft blades of grass brush your arms. A faint chatter reaches your ears. You begin to stir, eyelids fluttering as you wake. You witness the blue sky, the fluffy white clouds moving lazily above. You slowly get up, a sharp pain lodged in your temple. You inhale a sharp breath. Touching where the pain blossoms, you lower your hand and see blood. You part your lips in a silent scream. 

You smell water, and turning your head you see a lake. The surface is decorated with delicate water lilies. You don’t admire their beauty and rush towards it on all fours. Your heart beating in your throat, you attempt to splash the wound with water. You hiss out in pain. 

The next splash of cool water is to your face. Water droplets smooth down your skin. You breathe heavily. With pinched eyebrows, you try to remember how you got here. Your gaze drops to your rippled reflection in the water. You’re wearing a green dress, emerald earrings dangling from your ears, and a pearl necklace decorating your throat. You touch the cool stones. They do little to relieve you. 

“Need help with that?” 

You jump as you turn around, the damp ground slipping from underneath you. The man is quick to take a wide step, taking a hold of your hand before you take a dip into the lake. Still holding you, he kneels down. His fingers are warm against your skin. 

“Good morning,” he says softly. Only then do you notice a small camp forming in the background, people scurrying about. Your eyes widen when you notice the influx of weaponry being carried around. Your eyes move back to him. He must’ve sensed your fear because he squeezes your hand. “I’m not going to hurt you. You were already here, unconscious, when we came.” 

“I…” you swallow and pull your hand back. “Did you kidnap me?” 

“What?” he snorts, looking aghast. “No, we didn’t kidnap you. “Don’t you…remember what happened to you?” 

You shake your head, tears stinging your eyes. Your head throbs painfully and instinctively you touch the wet wound again. “No,” you whisper. 

The moment hangs in the air, a weighty silence punctuated by the sound of wind and soft waves washing over the surface. Your hand sinks further into the soil, the waves threatening to pull you further in. This is the first time you actually take notice of what this man looks like. His hair is a tousled mess of short brown locks, with a softness that beckons you to run your fingers through it. The curves and lines of his jaw and chin are accented by the subtle shadow of his beard. His eyes, a deep brown hue, seem to dart back and forth between yours, searching for some hint or clue about your past. His eyes don’t look like one of a criminal’s. You relax. Your shoulders fall, and your heart rate returns to normal. 

“You must be a noble.” he suddenly says, more to himself than you. His eyes drop momentarily, either to your lisp or necklace, you can’t tell.  “You must be.” he mutters again. 

“I…I really don’t know.” 

“Do you remember your name?” 

You shake your head, lips pressed tightly together. He gives you an understanding look and momentarily past you, observing the surroundings that lay behind you. 

“My name is Marcus,” he says barely above a whisper. His gaze moves back to you, your pulse thrums loudly under your skin. “How about we call you Lily for now?” 

You nod, still silent. He smiles. “Alright then,” Marcus stands up and offers you his hand, you take it. You feel the scars and callouses that seem to map the inside of his palm. “Let's get that wound cleaned and we can try and find out who you are.” 

“Sure,” you answer, grimacing at how scratchy your voice sounds. Swallowing, you gesture to the camps. “What is all of this?” 

Some of the men give you odd looks and your steps slow. Marcus squeezes your hands two times, you inhale slowly and follow him. 

“It’s a bit scary looking isn’t it?” a low chuckle escapes his lips, leading you into one of the tents. “I think it’s best for you if you don’t know. For your own safety.” 

Only days later, your memory still lost to you, does Marcus reveal who they were. A small rebel group preparing for their fight against the throne. Liberating one town at a time. He tells you that you need to leave, find your family, they would be leaving soon and he offers to drop you off at the city. 

But you don’t leave. Instead, you join them without knowing it’s your own family you will be fighting against. 

[baronessvonglitter]

Getting Dirty With a DILF

Marcus Moreno x f!reader

Word count: 1.8K

Summary: the night before Father's Day you share a little fun with your boyfriend

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, established relationship, bathroom counter sex, fingering, spanking, soft dom!Marcus, daddy kink, fluff, smut, fucking in front of the mirror

Author's Note: of all the daddies in the Pedroverse, I felt like Marcus needed just a little more love and wrote this for him.

MARCUS MORENO MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

Wearing nothing but Marcus Moreno's bedsheet around you, you traipse to the bathroom, playfully glancing behind to see he's catching up to you. Once inside, you pull him in and the sheet falls away from you at the same time that his arms wrap around you from behind as soon as the door shuts. He kisses the back of your shoulder, wearing a little lovestruck smile. "God, I'm crazy about you."

You smile, watching both of you in the mirror, naked. Your body is still flushed pink from the pleasure still coursing through your veins from moments earlier. Saturdays were your date nights, he made sure of that despite his busy schedule and his family life. Tonight you'd have him, and tomorrow he could spend time with his daughter for Father's Day.

"What are you smiling about?" Marcus smirks, nuzzles your cheek with his nose.

"I just.. think we look good together," you smile back, watching his hands roam your body. His arms wrap around you, holding you from behind as he looks at your reflection with you. He pulls you close, pressing your back to his chest.

"I like this view," he murmurs, his large hands cupping your breasts, feeling the heft of them in his palms before gently tweaking your nipples, earning a sweet sigh from you for his efforts. There's a pale ring of color around his left ring finger; he'd stopped wearing his wedding ring when he started dating you, something you would never have asked of him, but his insistence that he could let go of his past while entertaining his future was something that truly touched your heart.

"I like this view a lot," Marcus reiterates, watching your body's response to him. You tell him to keep going, and he kisses the back of your head as his hands gently squeeze your breasts. "Beautiful," he mutters. You bite your lip, savoring his delicate, reverent touch as heat flushes your skin even further. He presses a thigh between your own, separating them a little. He loves how you react to him, how a simple touch from him can make your heart skip a beat and cause goosebumps to rise on your skin. He loves knowing he has that effect on you. His lips wander your neck as he watches your reactions in the mirror, studying the furrowing of your brows, the slackness of your mouth while he kneads your flesh. He whispers into your ear, "Bend over.."

Barely able to suppress a gasp, you do as you're told, leaning over the bathroom counter, bent over in front of him as you watch him with wide eyes through the mirror. He moves forward and angles himself behind you, his hands greedily running from your hips to your thighs, feeling the heat from your drenched pussy.

Oh he needs to see it, craves to see your slippery cunt. Marcus first plants a soft kiss on your shoulder before leaning back to view your heart-shaped ass, your flower-like folds open to him, damp with your dew. He gently traces it with his finger, licking his lips when you mewl softly in want. He presses in with one finger, then two, fucking you slowly.

You move back against him, asking for more, demanding more. He removes his fingers for a moment, nearly growling to feel them covered in your thick slick, and uses them to smooth over your clit, circling and adding pressure before dipping back inside you, fingerfucking you harder than before.

Your cries ring out against the tiles of the room, your neediness almost vulgar, but to him they're the sweetest sounds in the world. "You like that, hermosa?" his voice booms over yours, and you grow even more excited to see this side of him, the beast beneath the man. "Put that pretty mouth to good use and tell me what you want, or I'll stuff it full of my cock," he grunts, slowing his movements to give you a small respite in which to get out of your brain fog.

"I want you to fuck me.." When you say it it almost sounds plaintive, but he's more than happy to oblige you.

"Only because you asked so kindly. Although I didn't hear a 'please' in there." Marcus's hand comes down to land a stinging slap on your ass, leaving a nice pink handprint. You wince, though a little of your come dribbles out, revealing the truth.

"Please!" you gasp. "Please fuck me!"

"That's better." Though he lands another spank just for good measure, and delves his fingers inside you again, leaving you unable to distinguish pleasure from pain. When you're on the verge of coming, he pulls away, giving you his fingers to lick clean. "That's a good girl," he coos, his eyes soft behind his thick square-rimmed glasses.

He lifts one of your legs, bracing it on the counter. You're completely exposed to him, cunt opened wide, pink and absolutely sopping wet. Then he positions himself behind you again. When you try to push your hips back he keeps you in place. "Stop that. Look at me."

His tone leaves you no choice, sending a thrill through you as you gaze at him through the mirror. "Don't you dare close your eyes, mi hermosa.." he warns, and with your eyes on each other's he slides into you just a little at a time.

Marcus never gets tired of that look, the way your eyes open wide, lips parted and full as he slides his cock into you, filling you up and stretching you out. You whimper, pushed forward by the force of his first thrust, and your entire body warms and buzzes with feeling. All concentration is on one area of your body. His jaw is clenched tight, eyes dark as he watches your face, his gaze drifting down to your hands that seek purchase on the countertop, fingers splayed. His grip is on your hips, keeping you steady, using slow and teasing thrusts as his tongue peeks out to slowly lick across his lips.

Each slide in feels like heaven as he slowly draws out your pleasure, teasing and testing you. "Yes..yes!" you moan with each thrust. He picks up the pace, his eyes locked on yours in the mirror. "You like that, corazón?"

Both your heart and your stomach flip flop as you exchange glances in the mirror. "Yes.. I love it, daddy."

In response to your pet name his grip on you tightens, a low growl escaping him. He thrusts harder, deeper into you. "You want daddy to give you more?"

Your breath catches in your throat. "God! Yes, daddy!" The sounds you make are absolutely shameless, giving back as good as you get, your flesh colliding in the most profane sound you've ever heard. Marcus loses a modicum of control with each of your sweet, needful moans, your torturously tight pussy. One of his hands lets go of your hip and reaches up, grabbing the back of your neck, bringing your head to the side enough for him to capture your lips in a messy, open-mouthed kiss. His lips meld against yours, capturing every sound you make. When he pulls back it's only far enough to where he can press another, shorter kiss to your lips. His forehead rests against yours as he presses against that sweet spot inside you he knows makes you see stars.

You whimper, your thighs threatening to buckle beneath the pressure, but he keeps you steady. He holds your face to the mirror so you can see yourself. You're wrecked. Your hair is messy, lips red and swollen from kissing, eyes blown black with desire. Marcus has never seen a prettier sight. He gives another rough snap of his hips, watching your ass cheeks ripple with the force of it. "Fuck, I can't hold on much longer, daddy," you moan.

"Let go for me," he grunts. At his command your self-control melts. A needful cry leaves your lips as your legs quake, your pussy pulsating around him. He almost comes undone right with you, but his hands grip your hips, holding you up as he rails you through your orgasm. "My girl," he says proudly.

You're weak when the pleasure subsides, and Marcus smiles, loving to see you like this, so undone, so satisfied. He gently pulls out of you, wraps an arm around your waist and turns you around, pulling you to his chest. He kisses the top of your head and cradles you against him. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you answer, finally catching your breath and breathing deep of his scent. He cradles your face in his hands, leaning gown to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. Then his arms wrap around you, holding you close as he rests his chin on top of your head. "Daddy didn't get to finish, did he?" you ask, taking his length in your hand, still rock hard.

His body stiffens and a hiss of pleasure leaves his lips. "Mm. No, I didn't."

You hop up on the edge of the counter, bracketing his hips with your thighs. "Let me help you with that." You shift your hips, pussy drooling in anticipation as he teases you with the first few inches. "You're such a tease, daddy," you whine.

He leans in close, resting his forehead against yours as he takes hold of your legs, letting them rest over his forearms. "And you're impatient," he says, and sneaks a peek between your bodies, watching as he pushes in, burying himself to the hilt. His heart skips a beat hearing your delicious moan. He cups your face gently, as if caring for something delicate, something precious, and kisses you, softly, deeply, lovingly. "I love you," he whispers.

"I love you too.." your whisper back, body buzzing with heat. "Take me how you want, Marcus."

A switch flips in his brain. You set something off. He pulls back and snaps his hips forward, over and over again. He groans when you dig your nails into his shoulders, your moaning in unison with his. He wants you to leave your marks on him. A claim. Ownership. He uses his height and strength to hold you in place as he fucks you. The sting of your scratches on his skin feels good. Later he'll look in the mirror, satisfied with the marks. He snaps his hips forward, with purpose. Hard. Forceful. Leaving you breathless. He buries his face in the crook of your neck. Each sound you make, he wants to hear forever. "Just like that, just like that," he mutters, feeling you clamp around him, signaling that you're close. "I'm not gonna last much longer.."

"Neither am I," you gasp. "Don't stop.."

His grip on your thighs tightens, knowing he'll probably leave his own marks on you, but he doesn't change his pace. "Come for me, baby," he groans. "Let me feel that tight pussy milking my cock."

"Fuck!!" you shout, body trembling as you come. Marcus follows right after, burying his face in your neck, pressing a messy kiss to your skin as his hips jerk, emptying himself into you. You stay joined for a long while until he finally pulls away, giving your thighs a tender rub.

"Now how about that shower?"

divider by @saradika-graphics 👑

[musings-of-a-rose]

Marcus

Pairing: Marcus (Pike, Moreno, Acacius) x f!reader

Word Count: 6900+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: I saw a post from @pimosworld innocently asking for a Marcus bachlorette style fic and, while this isn't exactly right, this is what my brain came up with. Shoutout to @mermaidxatxheart for listening to me ramble and helping me, as well as @vanemando15 for being a cheerleader!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Marcus Moreno Masterlist

Marcus Pike Masterlist

Marcus Acacius Masterlist

“Thanks for coming to Level Up Comics!” I smile at the customer as I hand them their bag, a quiet grunt all I get in return before they head out the door, the little bell jingling with their exit. I stretch, walking around from behind the counter and heading back towards the display case where several boxes sit in front, unopened figurines and collectibles pouring from them. My family and friends thought I was crazy for opening a physical media store in this age of digital products. They said no one would come in let alone want to actually buy “this crap.”

But here I am, a few years after opening, and I’m doing pretty good for myself. There are still collectors out there who want their favorites in case something happens to their files. They want the figurines from the original manufacturers, rather than printing them themselves. I can’t blame them. There’s something different, something magical about reading the printed word, having a figure of your favorite character that was made decades ago by something other than a 3D printer in someone’s basement.

The bell jingles and I yell out a greeting, shoving a few more figures in the back of the case before standing and turning, a pair of dark brown eyes meeting mine. I can already feel the smile on my face. 

“Hi, Marcus!” Shit, was that too enthusiastic? If it is, he doesn’t let on, his own smile shyly spreading across his face. “How…how are you?”

He rubs the back of his neck with his large hand, his eyes darting away from mine. “I’m..I’m good. You?”

“Good. That’s good. I mean, I’m good. Good. It’s all…good.” What the fuck?

He chuckles lightly, looking anywhere but at me. “Good.”

We’re both silent for several moments. He’s so hot. Way out of my league hot. And the weird thing is, I don’t even think he realizes just how attractive he is. 

“Did my back issue of X-Men come in?”

“Oh!” I slap my forehead. “I almost forgot! Yes. Let me get that for you.” Trying desperately to hide the heat in my cheeks, I quickly walk around the counter, kneeling to sift through the special order pile. 

“You got more figures in?”

“Yeah,” I yell from my crouched position. “There’s a few bins in the back I haven’t emptied yet. Feel free to have a look!” 

“Thanks.” I hear him shuffle off towards the back of the shop just as I locate his order. The door bell dings again and I stand, smoothing down my jeans. A man stands at the counter, his bright blue eyes roaming up and down my body before her plasters on the most ingenuine smile I’ve ever seen. 

“Hi. How can I help you?” I ask him as I place Marcus’s order on the counter.

 “Hi beautiful. I’m looking for a comic.”

I internally sigh. I already know where this is going. It happens several times a week.

“Well you’ve come to the right shop. What are you looking for?”

He chuckles, intending to be endearing. It isn’t. “I’m looking for a very specific issue of Hawkeye. You know who that is?”

Seriously? “I am very familiar with Hawkeye. Are you?”

He scoffs. “Haha. You’re a funny, pretty thing. Anyway, I’m looking for a specific run of his. Do you know what that means?”

Anger surges through me and I grip the desk to ground myself. Out of the corner of my eye I see Marcus at the back of the store, standing and turning towards us but not moving. He’s even hot in my peripheral. 

“Which run are you looking for? Or are you wanting a recommendation?”

He laughs, the vile sound of it echoing off the walls. “A recommendation? From you? What would you know? You’re just a pretty little girl.”

A clunk from the back of the store and I see Marcus trip over one of the boxes. He doesn’t go down, but turns to fix the boxes that he’s kicked over. The man in front of me is unphased, his eyes still on me, an amused smile tugging at his lips.

“Well?” He spits out. 

I look at him, giving him a smile. “Well, if you’re asking me personally, my favorite run is the Matt Fraction run. Not only because of his artistic style and great story, but the fact that they weaved in Clint’s deafness, drawing him wearing his hearing aids, and even doing an entire issue completely in American Sign Language. A great story and representation of a marginalized community from, in my opinion, one of the best and most relatable Avengers. Now, would you like the individual issues, an omnibus, or the digital version?”

The smug smile slowly fades from his face, his eyes hardening. “You don’t have to be such a bitch.”

“I do when customers act like a bitch.” 

He grabs the fliers on the counter and throws them at me, turning towards the door. “Fuck you and this place!” He tries to slam the door behind him but he fumbles with the handle, flipping me off one final time before disappearing around the corner. 

I sigh, bending down to pick up the fliers. A hand reaches out, large and inviting, carefully helping me pick up the scattered papers. I look up at him, at Marcus, sweet Marcus. Who had heard all of that. 

“I’m sorry Marcus. I shouldn’t have lost my cool.”

He hands me the small stack he’s collected, meeting my gaze. “You don’t have to apologize for standing up to a sexist asshole. I should be the one who’s sorry.”

I combine our stacks, both of us standing as I tap them on the counter to even them out. “Why should you apologize?”

“I should’ve come to help,” he rubs the back of his neck, his ear turning slightly pink. 

I shake my head. “No, Marcus don’t worry about it. I get assholes like that all the time. Really, it’s ok.”

He shakes his head. “It’s really not-”

To my own surprise, I reach out and squeeze his arm. “Really, I’m ok. Thank you, Marcus.”

He smiles at me, opening his mouth to say something, but his phone rings from inside his pocket. “Sorry. Sorry.” He pulls it out, tapping on the clear screen only he can see. “Shit. I have to take this. Work. You sure you’re ok?”

I smile, trying not to show my sadness at his leaving. “I am. Hope everything’s ok at work.”

“Thanks. I’ll uh…see you around.” His eyebrows pull together as his phone rings again, his eyes moving down to the screen before he turns around and heads out the door, pausing to give me a wave through the window before he disappears into the crowd. 

I’ll never meet a man owning this shop. They’re either assholes, taken, or hopelessly out of my league. My own phone beeps and I pull it out, scanning the clear screen with my reservation confirmation. I tap the confirm button, nerves flooding my system. 

I can’t believe I signed up for a virtual version of the bachelorette.

—----

I closed the shop early and rushed home to get ready for that night. I arrive promptly at 7pm as they requested, the giant VIRTUAL LIFE logo on the side of the building bathing the sidewalk in bright blue light. I take a deep breath and walk inside, the door disappearing momentarily to let me in before reappearing behind me. The front desk assistant guides me to a row of elevators and instructs me to head to floor 28. I’m the only one in the elevator, the lights illuminating each floor as we pass it. The elevator stops and the doors open to a small waiting room, black leather couches and chairs surround a coffee table with several tablets, each loaded with some form of entertainment. While it looks like there are windows, if you look closely, you can tell they’re simulated, trying to grant us as much privacy as possible. Although, I think it may be more about guarding their own technology secrets. 

“Ivy?” a woman calls my name from the only doorway in the room aside from the elevator. I nod, standing and smoothing down my dress. 

“That’s me.”

“Right this way.” She leads me into another small office, a simple desk with a single chair for me to sit in. She sits opposite me at the desk, tapping in mid air at what I’m assuming is the computer screen in front of her. 

“Ivy it says here you signed up for the bachelorette program to meet a compatible mate. Is that correct?”

Swallowing down my embarrassment, I nod. “Y-yeah.”

She taps a few more things. “Great. Do you know how this works?”

“You guys take a picture of my brain and show me a story?”

She chuckles, the first time her professional demeanor has broken. “Almost but not quite. After we’re done here, you will be taken to the simulation room. You’ve already done your physical-”

“Yeah. They had me put on this suit and they captured the way I moved. Motion capture, I think?”

She nods. “Yes that’s it exactly. This way, your avatar inside your world will move like you. It helps with immersion.” I nod. “They also completed your brain scan to find the most viable dates and look of mate that you are searching for. You indicated you’re looking for a male mate, is that correct?”

I nod. “Yeah. Yes.”

She nods. “Alright. If you’ll go through the door, someone in scanning will take you. Good luck!” She gestures to a door on the opposite wall from where we entered. I go through the door and another woman greats me, leading me to chair where she has me sit and get comfortable. It reminds me of what the dentist chairs used to look like except way more comfortable. She turns to me, holding a helmet with different little lights on it. 

“Any questions?”

“Yeah. So what will he..I mean, how will I know who he is?”

“You will just know. Sort of like in a regular video game, where you can tell who is important to talk to.”

“Ok..but…will he look like him or?”

That’s reassuring. But then she interrupts my thoughts. “Don’t forget, he will be there too also looking for you.”

She shakes her head. “Your algorithm took in your scan and will give him the appearance of someone you find appealing or comforting. We’ve found it’s easier to accept someone if they have an outward appearance you’re already familiar with.”

“So you base connections on personality as opposed to looks?”

She nods. “Those relationships have the highest success rate, so yes.”

“And after, will you show me who he is?”

She nods. “In the simulation, you’ll go on 3 dates. They may be something as simple as communicating in an office to being a superhero or even traveling back in time. The algorithm takes both of your likes, dislikes, and desires and places you in situations. The more you play along and immerse yourself, or yourselves, into the simulation, the better the outcome, meaning a closer connection. And don’t worry - you cannot be physically harmed. And if it’s too much or you want to stop, you only need to say “End simulation”. Please be aware that time may pass differently in the simulation, but you will only be in for an hour. After, you will both meet here, in reality, and can determine whether you’d like to continue with a relationship or not. Any more questions?”

I shake my head. “I don’t think so. Not at the moment, anyway.”

She places the helmet on my head, the nodes all changing different colors as it comes in contact with me. She squeezes my shoulder and I look up at her. “Just relax and try to go with the theme. It’s more fun that way, ok?”

I nod, wiping my sweaty palms on my dress. “Yeah. Makes sense.”

“Good luck!” She taps a button on her clear screen and my vision fades to black so just a couple of seconds. But then I’m blinking awake, the tips of my fingers tingling and my toes feeling like they just woke up. My vision starts to clear and the room comes into focus. I’m sitting at a bar, a fancier bar, which explains the nice dress. As my hearing levels out, I realize that the blonde man to my right is talking to me, his body shifted in my direction. His grey eyes are slightly unsettling. This can’t be my mate, can it? 

“...and so I had them fired! Can you imagine? I asked for my steak to be medium and they brought it out medium well. That will teach that guy to listen to the customer at his next job.” Grey Eyes chuckles and takes a sip of the drink in front of him. He nods towards the glass in front of me. “Do you want another?”

“What? Oh, uh sure.” 

He flags the bartender down and orders a rum and coke before making a show of leaning on his beefy arm against the bar. “I’m glad you finally saw reason and agreed to come out with me tonight.”

I give him a small smile. “Yeah. Same here.” This doesn’t feel right. Maybe they got it wrong? Someone bumps into me from behind and grey eyes catches me, glaring at the person who bumped me, who had moved on. 

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah. It’ll take more than a drunk asshole to bring me down.” Grey Eyes laughs, picking up his glass and holding it up towards me. “I’ll drink to that.” I glance down to grab my drink, only to find it wasn’t there. I look back at Grey Eyes and see him frozen in place, the smirk on his face completely gone, his glass shaking as he continues to hold it in mid air. My glass appears next to his, lightly clicking against his glass. 

“Now that’s not very nice.” That voice. I would know his voice anywhere. My entire body relaxes as I turn to look into the dark brown eyes that I love so much.

“Marcus!” I exclaim, ignoring the vein in grey eye’s neck that’s threatening to pop. Marcus on the other hand, looks good. I mean, he always looks good to me but he’s dressed in nice black pants and a light blue button up shirt with matching black jacket. I’m not sure how a blue shirt makes his brown eyes pop, but it does. Marcus pushes his black frames up his nose.

“Hey, Ivy. Sorry to interrupt your date, but this not so kind gentlemen put a little something in your drink.”

“He what?” I blink rapidly a few times, trying to pry my eyes away from him. Grey Eyes vein relaxes somewhat and he sputters out.

“Fuck you man! We’re on a date! What….what are you doing to me?”

Marcus shrugs. “Well, you wanted to make it so she can’t move. Only fair if I return the favor.” 

Grey Eyes goes to say something else, but then seems to recognize the man standing next to me, his eyes going wide.

“Aren’t you the guy that can move metal?”

My eyes snap to Marcus, who is smiling. “I see I have a fan.”

Grey Eyes tries to backtrack. “Listen, man. I’m sorry. I was just trying to get her to loosen up a bit. Have some fun.”

Marcus looks at me, his brown eyes wide and smiling. “Ivy, do you wish to continue your date with this man?”

“Nope.” I pop the “p” sound at the end of the word. “Little hard to have fun when my date is trying to render me unconscious.”

Marcus waves the bartender over. “Call the police. This man is in possession of Freeze Me.”

 A handful of what felt like seconds later, several officers show up and arrest Grey Eyes, who barely puts up a struggle. I turn towards Marcus, my smile stretching my face as I grab his arm. “My hero.”

His eyes dart around the room, his arm coming up to rub at the back of his neck. “It was nothing.”

Gosh he’s so cute when he does that neck rub thing. Wait. Gotta play along. 

“Is Marcus the Metal Bender actually acting shy around me?”

He chuckles nervously and I think how perfect they coded him. Like he was picked out of my brain. Which I guess he was. 

“Just trying to be respectful.”

I wish he wouldn’t. Wait, are we even allowed to have sex in here? Wow, getting ahead of yourself there, Ivy.

“Youwannagetoutofhere?” He speaks so fast it all comes out in a jumble and I cock my head to the side. 

“What?”

He swallows hard and I can’t help but watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Hell yeah I do.” 

—-

It’s a few weeks later, or at least it feels like some time has passed. That lady did say time passes differently here. Now I’m in an office building, a stack of files in my arms, walking down the hall. A quick glance around tells me I’m in the Heroics head quarters. Marcus appears from around the corner and looks up at me, smiling and walking towards me. But then a man in a much too tight blue suit with a glowing M on it joins him, Marcus’s shoulders sagging slightly as he gives me a sad little wave.

“When are you two going to go on a date already?” A woman with bright pink hair appears next to me. 

“I uh, me?”

She slaps my shoulder. “Yes, you Ivy.” She leans in closer to my ear. “Aren’t you the one who confessed to having a crush on our heroic leader?”

I will the heat rising in my face to not show. “Oh, I uh..I-”

“You know he likes you too.” Her jaw drops when she sees the confused look on my face. “Oh don’t tell me you can’t tell! That man can hardly look at you and he’s taken down alien forces by just staring at them.”

She feels like a close friend so I go with it. “Yeah, ok I like him. Keep your voice down, will you?” She continues walking with me to the end of the hall where I deposit the stack of files into several slots, each one making a small whoosh sound as they’re whisked away to their destinations.

When I’m done, Pink Hair gently grabs my face and turns me to her. “I love you, Ivy. You know you’re like the sister I never had. So please listen to me when I say ask that man out before something happens and you regret not ever trying.”

Well fuck. That is…really spot on to reality isn’t it? 

I never get a chance to answer her as the entire building suddenly shakes, alarms and lights screeching and illuminating the halls. One of the tall filing cabinets starts to topple in my direction and I can only look on in horror, frozen in place by the rumbling building. I throw my hands up, as if that’s going to stop it, but nothing happens. The cabinet is laid gently on its side, floating to the ground. 

“Come on!” I look up into those dark eyes, Marcus extending his hand to me and helping me to my feet. “We have to get out of here!” He tightens his grip and somehow leads us out of the chaotic building out into the streets. Which is also nuts. People are running everywhere and…wait. Is that an alien spaceship coming towards us??

Marcus pulls me behind a wall, glancing around it and waving hand signals to a small group of heroes across the street behind another wall, Pink Hair amongst them. He turns back to me, his face full of worry as he starts to take his shirt off, exposing��not skin but a uniform? No. His hero costume, which is a black shirt,and arm bands. He sees me staring down and he shrugs. “I normally have a tach vest but we’re out of time.” 

“Should you not go out there without one?”

Marcus shakes his head. “I have to support my team. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. I mean, people safe.”

“You could just stay here with me? The others can handle-” my words are cut off by a giant laser beam cutting through the street, coming directly from the ship. 

He takes my hand and squeezes it. “Get yourself to safety. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. I need you to be safe.” Another laser beam, the sound of some smaller buildings crumbling to the ground. “Go! Get to safety!” He releases my hand. 

I get a glimpse of the deep craters that lasers had left in their wake through the cement of the street, the piles of rubble and dust, and this spurs me on.

“Marcus?” He leans against the wall, readying himself, but he looks at me. 

“Yeah?”

Mustering up my courage, I lean towards his hunched body, softly planting a kiss on his lips. When I pull back, I see his chest heaving, his eyes moving between mine.

“Please make it back, Marcus.”

Before he can answer, the ship comes into view and his team moves out, following behind Miracle Guy, who had flown right up the ship and started punching it. Marcus’s head whips around, assessing the situation and I squeeze his arm once more before quickly moving out of the immediate area. I know I should move more, but I can’t get hurt so… 

The fight that ensues between the ship, the aliens inside, and the Heroics team is nothing short of brilliant. They may argue in the halls, but in the field, they all take direction from Marcus, who is a brilliant leader, playing all of their strengths. Marcus bends metal like it’s made of playdough, a beautiful dance of destruction and strength. Then the ship comes crashing down, everyone moving out of the way except-

“Marcus!” I emerge from my hiding place at a full run as the smoke around the alien ship that’s currently scraping along the road as it crashes and envelops Marcus. The ship stops, groaning as it falls back and lays still, no other life forms moving or detected on board. For a few moments, no one moves. Then Marcus emerges from the smoke, his face soot stained and a small gash in his shirt and along his cheek, but otherwise unharmed. 

“Marcus!” I run to him, his eyes finding mine, his entire body relaxing as he realizes I’m safe, just before I launch myself into his arms, our lips crashing together as my right hand fists in his shirt, my left tugging on his hair. Miracle Guy wolf whistles but I couldn’t care less. I feel his tongue gently lick out and I part my lips, letting him take whatever he wants. But before it can go any further, my vision starts to blacken, the last thing I see is Marcus’s eyes going out of focus as he succumbs to his own transition to the next simulation.

—----

I find myself blinking awake for the second time in what feels like weeks, but I know in reality it’s only been maybe 20 minutes that I was in there. The tips of my fingers and toes are tingling, my vision and hearing clearing and I find myself in…a breakroom. Am I back at the Heroics? The slight weight in my hand takes my focus and I realize I’m holding a cup of tea. I must be on my break. I walk towards the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking outside. I’m not back at Heroics - the cityscape is all wrong. I hear the door open behind me and I turn, the smile on my face widening as Marcus enters the room. His hair is shorter than the last simulation. And his face is clean shaven, which is a look I’ve never seen on him before. Not that it matters - he’s beautiful no matter what. I wonder what he’ll look like when he’s a little older. Probably hot as-

“Hey, Ivy.” Marcus smiles down at me, grabbing his own mug and pouring a cup of coffee from the carafe. I notice the FBI logo on the mug and figure that must be where we are.

“Hey,  Marcus.” I take a sip of my tea as we both watch the other. But then the door opens again, another agent walking into the room. He claps his hands together, looking at us.

“Hey! Congrats on finally cracking that art case, you two! 8 months is a long time to do an operation like that. Great work!” He shakes both of our hands as we thank him. Marcus catches my eye and, with a small movement, jerks his head towards the door. I nod, thanking the other agent again and follow Marcus out of the tiny breakroom and down the hall, stopping in front of an office door labeled MARCUS PIKE. I wonder if that's his name back In reality. He extends his arm towards his office and I head inside, smiling at him as I do, noting how his eyes dart around, that hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck as he closes the door behind him.

“I uh…great work, Ivy.” 

“You too.” 

He puts his hands in his pockets and finally looks me in my eyes and he nods once. 

“Listen. Do you..uh..I mean, would you like to…this is coming out all weird.”

I squeeze his arm and he looks down at my hand, taking a deep breath. 

“Would you like to get something to eat?”

My stomach erupts in butterflies. “Like on a date?”

The redness in his eyes spreads down onto his cheeks as he stammers, gesturing around vaguely. “No! No, not uh. Not a date.”

I can feel my face falling. “Oh.”

“Uh, unless you…uh…unless you want to? Make it a…a date?” His eyes are wide and bright, like a damn puppy. 

I smile, tucking some hair behind my ear. “Yeah. Yeah, I would love to go on a date with you, Marcus.” 

His smile is bright, lighting up the room. “Yeah?”

“Yes.”

He let's out a sigh of relief. “Great! I found this great pancake place.”

Pancakes? I love this man already. “It's nearly dinner time!” I can't help the small giggle that I let out. 

“Yeah, well you said your favorite food is pancakes. And they're open 24 hours.”

He remembered my favorite food? I'm so screwed. Damn this program is good. “You're right! I'd love to get pancakes with you. On a date. For a date. When will this date be, by the way?”

“Oh. I uh, would it be too weird if we went tonight? Is that too soo-”

“No! I mean, yes! No it's not too soon. I'd love to go!” If my heart could stop beating through my chest, that would be great. It's not that I'm some young girl getting asked on her first date. I just really like Marcus. Or whomever this is. My heart sinks at the thought of it not being the Marcus I know in reality. 

“Great! I'll pick you up at 7? Unless you'd rather meet me there? I don't want you to be uncomfortable.”

“Marcus, we just spent 8 months together on assignment. I think I'm comfortable around you.”

He chuckles. “Fair point.” His office phone rings and he apologizes to me, picking it up. I wave ro him and he mouths “See you at 7!”

—----

He picks me up with a flourish of flowers, all long legs and button up shirt that I'm really dying to unbutton. If that's even allowed here. 

But what's more than that is the conversation. I thought I had learned everything about him over the last 8 months. I was very wrong. 

“You were a bass player in a band?” I ask, choking on my drink.

He laughs, holding his hands up in front of him. “What can I say? I wanted to meet more people.”

“I bet you had all the girls hanging on you.”

Marcus shrugs. “Not really. They all want to date the drummer or the singer.”

“Really? Not the sexy bass player?”

Marcus takes too large of a sip of his drink and coughs, pounding his chest. “No, not the…you think I'm sexy?”

I set my fork down and meet his eyes. “If I didn't like you, I wouldn't be here.”

We spend several moments, just looking at each other and then I remember that he's not a simulation but a real person on the other end of those eyes. My heart squeezes thinking about how it won't actually be Marcus. Despite that thought, we really get along well and the conversation flows freely between us. Sooner than I’d like, we’re leaving the small diner, heading back to my place. Marcus parks in my driveway and turns to me, his eyes bright and wide like a damn puppy. We had been talking about books, one of my favorite topics.

“..and I know everyone complains that Tolkien takes 20 pages to describe a flower, but I really love that attention to detail. It makes it more immersive for me. One of these days I’ll get you to read Lord of the Rings!” I tap my fingers on his bicep to emphasize my point.

Marcus rubs his neck. “I uh…I already have.”

My jaw drops. “What? When??”

“When you told me it was your favorite book. Or books, I should say.”

I think back. “Marcus, that was…months ago!”

His eyes meet mine, the light from the street lamp outside adding a sparkle to them. “You said they were your favorite so…I read them.”

My stomach does flips, my heart beating. “You read them all for me?”

He nods. “Even the Silmarillion.”

I can’t help it. This is so fucking hot. I reach out and grip his shirt, pulling him to me, his soft lips pressing against mine, the heat between us quickly rising. His large hand cradles the back of my head, holding me to him as his other hand settles on my hip, squeezing it lightly. We make out for several minutes, Marcus kissing and nipping a path down my neck. 

“Do you want to come in?” I ask breathlessly. 

He pulls back and looks at me. “I do but-” he whispers. “Are we allowed?”

“I…I’m not sure. We could try to-” 

But then my vision starts to blacken around the edges, and before I pass out, I hear Marcus say “See you in the next one!” before we both black out.

—----

Now familiar with the way I wake in these simulations, I wiggle my fingers and toes, giving myself a moment to figure out where I am. The room looks…ok, this isn’t from my time. Roman decor and pillars line the grand bedroom, some food laying on a small table for, I’m assuming, me. A quick glance down shows me in a beautiful white garb and I marvel for a moment at how clean it is. 

BOOM!

The ground shakes and I duck down, completely caught off guard. It’s only after the boom dies down that I hear it - the distant sound of clanking swords and men yelling. I walk to the small window set into the wall and look out, my brain taking a moment to process the scene in front of me. 

I’m several floors up in a sort of round building, a castle I realize as I see the lower tiers, more square in their shape. I’m sure the grounds would have been beautiful, if it weren’t for the massive amounts of soldiers fighting in the streets. I can make out their bodies, the blood, sweat, and dirt spreading almost like a disease. Spear and swords burst from chests or stomachs, limbs separating from their bodies to be lost to the throngs of soldiers. The seem to be moving closer to the castle, which I’m not sure if I want to happen or not. Turning on my sandaled heel, I walk to the door, pressing my ear against the wood to listen. Hearing nothing, I try to open it. Nothing. The door doesn’t open or move, the handle locked into place.

Well, fuck. 

Before I can try and figure out how far down the next ledge is out the window, or if I can even fit out the window, I hear a commotion outside my door. It’s not loud, but I hear a man gurgling and sputtering, a small bit of crimson blood pooling under the door. I grab an iron rod by the fire and hold it up, preparing to defend myself. I know they said I can’t be hurt but damn this feels real. The door opens and a man walks through, wide, muscular shoulders under his Roman armor, Medusa proudly engrained on the front. I lunge, the iron rod above my head but the man turns and grabs the rod and I  would’ve fallen to the floor if he hadn’t caught me.

“Ivy! Here you are!” 

It’s him. Marcus. Only he’s older, probably closer to 50. Grey streaks in his curls and patchy facial hair only accentuate his beauty, a new scar forming across his nose, bleeding lightly down his face. He’s covered in dirt and blood and ash, but I throw my arms around him anyway.

“Marcus! Thank God, what’s going on?”

He cups my face, pushing my hair out of my face. “You are so beautiful, my love. I would bring every army from the entire world to rescue you from this horrid Emperor.” And then his lips are on mine, urgency behind them, but a desire to show me how l much I am loved. This man apparently started the battle outside, for me, and still wants to make sure that I know how important I am to him? 

“We have to flee. Come!” But before we can leave, the door flies open and 5 guards file in, grabbing Marcus and holding his arms out to his sides. I pick the iron rod up from the floor and run towards them, unsure of what I would do but I know I’ll beat the shit out of them until they let him go. But another hand shoots out and grabs my wrist, twisting it hard so I drop the rod. I look up into the eyes of a man that I’m assuming is the Emperor, his golden robes flowing around him. He looks vaguely familiar, like that one asshole from the comic shop.

“Now, now my dear. What were you planning on doing with that?”

I open my mouth to reply, but then he smacks me across the face and I slam down onto the floor. Ok, that hurt. Didn’t she say I wouldn’t get hurt? Maybe she meant I wouldn’t die. Marcus swears, cursing the Emperor for hitting me. 

“Are you alright, my love?” Marcus grunts as the men punch him in the stomach. 

“Marcus, Marcus, Marcus. You’re kind are dying out. I told you to just accept your fate and take your banishment, but instead, you stayed behind and fell in love with a woman. How…stupid.” Marcus tries to speak but he’s punched again, his body hunching over. I try to stand, but then I’m drug up by my hair, the Emperor’s fingers digging at my scalp as he pulls me to his side. 

“This one?” His eyes rake over my body. “She is attractive, I’ll give you that. Even if she is attracted to a brute like you.” I jerk my body, trying to get out of his grip but it’s too tight, my hands gripping his arms to try and get some relief from the stinging at the back of my scalp.

“Let her go. You can kill me, I don’t care, but let her go.”

The Emperor looks from me to Marcus, a sick smile spreading on his face. “I didn’t go through the trouble of kidnapping her just to have you give up. So I’ll tell you what I’ll do instead. LOOK AT ME!” The Emperor bellows from beside me, Marcus’s eyes moving from mine to his. 

He steps closer to Marcus, dragging me a little beside him. “Such a wild man. How about this: you watch as I take her. Then, I’ll drive my sword through her belly so she can slowly bleed out on the floor. Only after the light has left her eyes will I either kill you or lock you up to suffer the rest of your days. How does that sound?”

The darkness that settles over Marcus is unforgiving, his eyes hardening in resolution. He growls and screams, throwing the soldiers off him as he grabs his sword from the ground, swinging it and taking out all of the soldiers in only a handful of moves. He spins, aiming his sword at the Emperor, who has now moved me in front of him as a human shield, a knife to my throat. 

“I’ll kill her, Marcus! You are too weak to save her!”

Marcus’s gaze moves briefly to mine and I release my weak grip on the Emperor’s arms, letting them fall to my side. Marcus shifts his body ever so slightly before he throws something from behind his back. The object whizzes past my cheek, scratching it slightly as the blade buries itself in the Emperor’s neck. He drops his knife and clutches at his throat, his eyes wide with fear. He crumbles to the floor and sputters for several moments before his body stops moving. I run to Marcus, throwing my arms around him again. He grunts and I remember the soldiers hitting him.

“Are you hurt?”

He clutches his side. “I’ve had worse.”

“You are so fucking hot right now,” I speak quietly to him and he smiles. “I’m covered in dirt and blood and sweat.”

“Stop trying to turn me on more I already said you’re hot.”

He laughs but then inhales sharply at the pain. “I’ll take it, I guess.”

“No, that’s my job.” I bring my lips to his, pushing him back towards the chaise lounge chair on the other side of the room. He sits, pulling me onto his lap as I straddle him, my dress getting dirty as I shift my hips. He groans, his large hands sliding up my bare thighs under my dress and fuck! My vision starts to blacken and I hear Marcus whine out some expletives as we both are brought out of the simulation. 

—---------------------------

Hopefully for the last time, I blink awake, wiggling my fingers and toes as I look around the room. The helmet is gently lifted from my head and the woman that had put it on me moves into my eyesight.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m here.”

“Good. Wait just a moment for your body to fully catch up. Do you have any questions?”

“Yeah why did you stop us having sex?”

She studies me for a moment. “It is not allowed in the programming.”

“I cross my arms. “Well your programming is stupid.”

She chuckles so quietly I thought I’d imagined it. “The algorithm wants you and your mate to match based on personality and emotions, not just physical.”

“I can guarantee you it wasn’t just physical.” 

She helps me stand and I shake my limbs out, full feeling returning to them. I smooth out my dress as she readjusts my hair. “Are you ready to meet him?”

Him. My reality man. “Y..yeah.” 

“Right through that door. He’s already waiting for you.” I move towards the door but she stops me. “I just have to say, I’ve been doing this for years and I’ve never seen a situation like yours and his.”

I furrow my brow. “What do you mean?”

So smiles softly. “So…rooted in reality.”

Yeah that’s not confusing. But she doesn’t explain further, turning back to the chair and helmet, starting to clean them. I take a deep breath to steady myself and open the door, walking through and closing it behind me. The man on the other side of the room, my mate, turns towards me and we both gasp.

“Marcus?”

“Ivy?”

We meet in the middle of the room and I cup his face, Marcus tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Is it really you?”

He nods. “Yeah. You? Real?”

“Real.”

He pulls my face to his, kissing me deeply, but then pulling back a moment later. 

“I’ve been dying to ask you out since forever. I never thought I’d be paired with you, here of all places.”

I cock my head to the side. “Why didn’t you ever ask me?”

“Have you seen yourself? You’re entirely out of my league.”

“I’m fairly certain it’s the other way around.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but I put my finger on his lips. “I think we went through several first dates in there. Plus, we’re already friends. Can we…that is, can you take me back to your place first? Then we can eat?”

Marcus’s eyes darken, his hands finding a place on my hips as he pulls me against his body, letting me feel how into that idea he is. 

We’re married a year later.

—----

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[justaz]

semi-dark king merlin au, someone from ealdor tells king cenred about merlin and he is captured and held as a slave in essetir. since merlin despises captivity and servitude, he’d rather be dead and free than alive and in chains so he acts out and pisses people (especially the king) off so they’ll think him too much trouble and kill him. at first they stick to beatings until merlin manages to get his chains around a few necks and now has a body count so they kill him…..only he wakes back up a few hours later and king cenred is Intrigued and keeps him close. merlin keeps acting out but no matter how many times they kill him, he won’t stay dead. merlin has this moment after waking up perfectly fine after his twenty seventh death where he is hopeless and believes there to be no escape, not even thru death. a few other sorcerers in chains come and help him clean up and give him a lil peptalk, realizing him to be emrys, and then they revolt and take over the kingdom and crown merlin as king and now uther is like “wtf” bc his neighboring kingdom who was kinda sorta on his wavelength about sorcery, though uther did not approve of keeping them alive, is now a kingdom ruled by magic. he goes to war with them but with magic running free and fucking emrys on the throne, they don’t make a lot of headway. anyways merthur meet on the battlefield, enemies to lovers, you get it

[yonemurishiroku]

My heart is broken over another devastating loss.

[flightlessangelwings]

Ktober 2023 Day 8- Cockwarming

Marcus Moreno x gn!reader

Word count- 1k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), softness, established relationship, no use of y/n

Notes- I miss writing for sweet himbo Marcus!! I can't believe it's been since last October when I wrote for him!! Prompt list made by me! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is myupdate blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on my new fics!

~

The morning sun hit your eyes and you let out a soft groan. You weren’t ready to face the day yet, not when you were so comfortable in bed. In Marcus’ bed. In his arms. You smiled to yourself as you let your eyes gently close and savored the feeling of his strong arms around you, holding you close and safe.

Nothing separated your bodies as you laid together under the sheets. Marcus’ body heat was all the warmth you needed as you both fell asleep tangled up in each other. Safe and comfortable and completely disconnected from the rest of the world, you never wanted to leave his bed.

Marcus groaned softly as he too started to wake. He mumbled your name in a sleep-ladened voice as he placed a series of light kisses along your shoulders and your back. Anywhere he could reach with his skin, Marcus kissed, worshiping your body in the morning sun.

“Marcus,” you breathed. 

“Morning, baby,” he murmured between kisses.

He worked his way up your shoulders and to your neck, playfully nibbling and biting all the spots he knew were sensitive. You let out a stifled giggle as you bit your lip and craned your neck to allow him better access. Marcus hummed in approval as he ran his tingle along the taut muscle of your neck, eliciting a moan from you.

“Fuck,” you sighed as you leaned your body into him.

Marcus snaked his arms around your body to caress your chest, kneading and squeezing you to pull even louder moans. He groaned as he bucked his hips against your ass so you could feel his hardening cock against your body.

The two of you were alone in the house; Missy was away at a training camp for the rest of the week, so you could stay in bed as long as you wanted. And you both could be as loud as you wanted without fear of her hearing your bedroom activities. You absolutely adored Marcus’ daughter, but at the same time you were grateful for the alone time you got to spend with him while she was away.

He groaned your name as he wrapped his arms around your body and one hand trailed along your front to cup at your groin. You moaned loudly as he worked you between your legs, making you feel so good. Marcus was always good with his hands, and he could play your body like an instrument, and pull the most beautiful sounds to his ears from you.

“I need you, sweetheart,” Marcus murmured into your ear as his skilled hands fondled you.

“You have me, Marcus,” you whispered back as you turned your neck and took his lips with your own.

He moaned into your mouth as he deepened the kiss. It was slow yet passionate, and full of feeling. You rocked your hips in time with his hands as you started a new rhythm with him. Every time you backed up, your ass grazed against his cock, and you made sure to rub yourself against him.

Heat rose between your bodies as you both became more desperate for the other. Breaking away for a deep breath, you rolled yourself around to face him. Marcus looked at you with those big, dark eyes that you could never deny, and he reached out and cupped your face in a tender moment. You leaned in as you both breathed the other’s name before kissing him once more.

As your tongue danced with his, you shifted yourself so that you straddled Marcus’ waist. His hands never left your sides as he helped guide you while never breaking away from the kiss. It had just been since last night that he was inside you, but you both needed it again regardless. 

You rocked your hips along his length, pulling low moans and hisses from Marcus as he broke the kiss to let out a cry of pleasure. He sighed your name as he looked up at you with a glossed over expression. His hands roamed all over your body, caressing your sides as if he tried to memorize every inch of your skin.

“Sweetheart…” he murmured. 

“I know,” you whispered.

Slowly, you positioned yourself on his cock and lowered yourself down. Both of you gasped as his cock pushed past your first ring of muscle and entered your body inch by inch. Still wet from the night before and mixed with your need for him, you took his cock easily even first thing in the morning.

When your hips met his, you collapsed forward and laid down on his chest, and Marcus immediately wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight. You felt his heart pounding in his chest as you ran your hand across his bare skin. This time, it was your turn to kiss wherever you could reach, and you felt Marcus let out a soft laugh as you tickled his skin.

“You feel so good, baby,” he purred as he caressed your back, his fingers trailing along your spine.

“So do you, baby,” you murmured as you contently closed your eyes.

Marcus loved to be inside you; he craved it every moment of the day when he wasn't. And now that he was, he felt like he was in heaven. He kissed the side of your head as he adjusted himself slightly so you both were comfortable. Neither of you wanted to move anytime soon, not when you laid connected together like this. And you had no plans or responsibilities for the day, so you were free to stay as long as you wanted. 

“Did I ever tell you how amazing you are?” Marcus asked in a hushed voice, careful not to disturb the comfortable quiet that fell over the room.

“You just did,” you quipped back with a soft laugh.

“Well, you are,” Marcus joined your laughter as he kissed you again and tightened his grip on you, “I love you, baby.” He closed his eyes, ready to settle in like his as long as you would stay on top of him. His harden cock stayed buried deep inside you, but he didn’t feel the need to fuck you just yet. Right now, he just wanted to savor the feeling of you around him. He could always fuck you later, and this afternoon, and tonight, and tomorrow, and forever.

You hummed as you smiled against his skin and your eyes fluttered shut as well, “I love you too, Marcus.”

It was a long time before the two of you finally moved.

[yah1dka]

when everyone is fighting shigaraki, denki explains that katsuki always pays attention to his surroundings.

can it partially be influenced by the fact, that, while struggling against the sludge villain, katsuki blew up and threw on fire everything around him and it was the reason why presenting heroes didn't save him? yk katsuki is the boy who cried, because he "ended all might", so could blamed himself for the attack that time too

[kacchanot-fucking-deal-with-this]

another episode of will i continue working on my fanfic or succumb to the tumblr doomscroll once more?

[annadriesen2121]

I could look at this picture of Willems for the rest of my life... my heart beats like a drum! 🥳

WdS and WH during Ensors after party! We've been waiting for this photo for years!

[huntingingoodwill]

an adult dinner party (m.m.)

masterlist

desc: when your attempts to help out marcus with a dinner party go south, he swoops in to save the day. not all heroes wear capes. some of them wear aprons.

a/n: a fluffy fic for the @happypedrohours charcuterie writing challenge based on the prompt poppy seed crackers w/ marcus m!!!

“Poppy seed crackers. Like the stuff they make opium from?” Marcus said, squinting at the ingredients list printed on the back of the box.

“I’m sure they’re not selling expiring opium at the grocery store clearance section.” You laughed, the words already sounding doubtful as they left your mouth. Would they sell opium at the grocery store?

“What’s opium?” Missy said, looking extremely bored as she lounged in the shopping cart.

“Google it.” You said, words overlapping with Marcus’ as he said, “You don’t need to know.”

“Whatever it is, it’s bad for you.” The two of you said in unison.

“Are we having opium at the dinner party?” Missy asked.

“Nah.” Marcus said, ruffling her hair. “Doubt that’d go down well with the other parents.”

You felt the box of crackers crinkle beneath your tense knuckles at the mention of the other parents.

As a member of the Parents’ Association at Missy’s school, it was Marcus’ turn to host a dinner for them tonight. You were determined to cook a feast to end all feasts for him, but you were definitely feeling the pressure.

“You’re gonna crush them.” He chuckled, extracting the crackers from your iron grip and tossing them to Missy, who caught them and placed them next to her in the cart.

“I just really want to help you make a good impression. I want to put on the perfect Adult Dinner Party.” You placed special emphasis on the last three words, aspirational ideas of sophisticated conversation over aperitifs flashing through your mind.

“Adult? Like X-rated?” Marcus grinned, killing your images of civilised chatter and hors d’oeuvres served on silver platters. His smile was illuminated by his phone as he skimmed over the frantic grocery list you had sent him, full of typos and vague ingredients.

“What’s ‘MEAT THE COLD KIND’?” he said, pointing at the words that flashed across his screen.

“I feel like ‘MEAT THE COLD KIND’ is pretty explanatory.” You said, drifting towards the cold cuts, tossing some prosciutto into the cart before steering towards the self-checkout area.

As you packed your groceries away, you watched as Marcus aimed the scanner at Missy, red lights flashing over her frame.

“Nothing.” She said, staring at the till where, naturally, no product registered. “Guess I’m worthless.” She joked.

“You’re priceless.” He corrected, turning the scanner on you. “And so are you.”

You rolled your eyes at his corniness, melting into his touch as he reached to cup your face in his large, warm hands, thumbs skimming the lines of your cheekbones.

“You’ll be fine tonight. Everything will be okay.” He mumbled, pressing a kiss to your forehead and pointedly ignoring Missy’s pleas for the both of you to get a room.

“I’ll be fine.” You repeated, taking a deep breath that seemed to usher out all the anxiety that lingered in your body. “Everything will be okay.”

“Everything is NOT okay!” You wailed later that evening, flying into Marcus’ arms as soon as he came into the kitchen. You had only ushered him out of the kitchen an hour earlier to get him to set the dining table and clean up some of the everyday clutter accrued in the living room, but it was already apparent that things weren’t turning out as you hoped.

“What’s wrong?” He frowned, holding you tight in his embrace.

“Turns about, despite my hopes and delusions, I am not Julia Child.” You groaned into the crook of his neck. “I can’t even fold the meat elegantly.” You said, gesturing at the haphazard ribbons of prosciutto splayed out on the charcuterie board.

“Can meat be folded elegantly?” Marcus said, arching an eyebrow.

“Don’t ask me! I wouldn’t know!” You threw your hands up in the air, sardonic words dripping in frustration.

He smiled, the image of calm amidst a kitchen that looked like a tornado had ripped through it, before using his thumb to swipe some flour off your cheek.

“That’s from the Beef Wellington.” You sighed.

“Honey, I’ve always loved your ambition.” He smiled, planting his hands on your shoulders.

“I think the parents of the association would love elegant prosciutto more than my ambition.”

He opened his mouth to protest, the shrill ring of the oven timer interrupting him.

“Help me get the Wellington, please.” You said, carving slices out of a block of cheese spotted with blue mould for the charcuterie board.

“Um, is the Wellington supposed to be so… pale?”

You dropped the knife, panic beginning to swell in your chest.

“How pale are we talking?”

“A grain of rice in a snowstorm?”

You dashed toward the oven, the swell of panic burgeoning into a wave of horror that crashed over you as you saw Marcus holding a Wellington encased with completely raw dough.

You stuck your hand in the oven, letting out a defeated wail.

“It’s not even on! It’s so cold in there, an ice cube would get goosebumps.”

You flopped onto the tiled kitchen floor, staring at the ceiling in defeat.

“You win, Adult Dinner Party. I surrender.” You breathed, exhausted.

“Mr and Mrs McCartney are here.” Missy said, appearing in the kitchen’s entryway.

“HELP!” You cried.

“Missy, stall them outside for a little. I’ll bring them in in a second.” Marcus sat down next to you as soon as Missy made a beeline for the door, smoothing stray hairs away from your face.

“Just go upstairs and get ready. I’ll handle it.” He soothed.

“Are you sure?” You sniffed.

“I’m sure. I can’t undercook the charcuterie board, can I? Charcuterie is French for ‘slap it on a wooden block and call it a day’.”

“I think Duolingo is lying to you.” You said, the smile returning to your face. He always knew how to do that.

“Maybe.” He smiled, offering you his arm and bringing you to your feet, the movement making a strange crunching noise that prompted the both of you to look at the floor.

You had managed to knock the box of crackers off the counter during your earlier flurry of movement, and he had stepped on them, reducing them to little crumbs that sprayed across the tile.

“Those crackers are driving me crazy.” You sighed.

“Same.” Marcus sighed, taking a peek out of the window to watch as Mr and Mrs McCartney pretended to listen to Missy tell an animated story out on the porch.

He ushered you toward the stairs.

“You’ll be okay?” You said, shooting an anxious look over your shoulder.

“I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.” He said, his calming voice washing over you with a wave of relief.

“Thank you.” You whispered, turning to give him a parting kiss.

It was only 20 minutes later when you descended the stairs, greeted by a crowd of elegant parents, nibbling on charcuterie and cocktails made out of the week old carton of orange juice that had been sitting in the fridge, and the dregs of whatever liquor Marcus could find in the kitchen cupboard.

“You look amazing.” Marcus said, reaching for your hand, staring at you with a glint of awe in his eye, even if all you did was freshen up as quick as you could and thrown on whatever nice old thing was hanging in the closet.

“You are amazing.” You whispered, pulling him into the kitchen, poppy seed crumbs still underfoot.

“So are you.” He grinned, warm palms travelling over your sides and finding their place on your hips.

“The meat was folded very elegantly, and the poppy seed crackers were scarcely missed.” You muttered, lips upturning as your hand skimmed the front of his shirt, travelling up his chest to fix his tie. “I love you. You’re perfect.”

“You’re pretty wonderful yourself.” He chuckled. “Wellington’s in the fridge for tomorrow’s dinner and the pizza delivery guy said he’ll be here in five minutes. Is it the X-rated pizza party you were hoping for?”

You rolled your eyes, smacking him playfully on the arm.

“It’s Adult Dinner Party.” You corrected. “And yes, it’s everything I hoped for and more.”

Stealing a moment away from the party, the mild chatter continuing outside the door, your lips met in the middle of the kitchen, holding each other tight amongst powdery spills of flour, cracked eggshells and poppy seed cracker crumbs. The perfect embrace in the most imperfect of places.

[inknopewetrust]

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐏𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐨 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰. 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬.

𝐍𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐀𝐈.

𝐉𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐞ñ𝐚 [𝐍𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨𝐬]

𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥. 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 𝐉𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 [𝟏𝟖+].

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐈 & 𝐈𝐈

𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫’𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 [𝟏𝟖+].

𝐖𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬

𝐉𝐚𝐯𝐢 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤.

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐞����𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬, 𝐉𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰.

𝐀 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞

𝐉𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐉𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦.

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞

𝐉𝐚𝐯𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐄𝐀’𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐨𝐬 𝐏𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐬. 𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦.

𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝐋𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐁𝐨𝐠𝐨𝐭á 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐚𝐯𝐢 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐧𝐞’𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐝.

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐨 [𝐖𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐞𝐬]

𝐈𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 | 𝟎𝟏 | 𝟎𝟐 | 𝟎𝟑 | 𝟎𝟒

𝐈𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬’ 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡, 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞. 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐖𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐞𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐮𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭.

𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐲 [𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧]

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐆𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐥𝐞, 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐀 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞. 

[quinn-of-aebradore]

“You will come back.” Essek says and it is not a question or a statement; it is a plea.

Caleb huffs a sigh, stroking his husband’s cheek. “Schatzi-“

“You will,” Essek’s gaze shoots from the floor to Caleb. “I will not be there to protect you. So you will promise me that you will protect yourself.”

“Essek. Liebling, you know I cannot make any guarantees.”

Caleb catches a glint of fang as Essek grits his teeth, the hand at his side clenching for the briefest of moments.

“He will not take you from me.”

Angry tears bead in Essek’s eyes, blurring the silver lining them and spilling down his face. Again, he breaks Caleb’s gaze and stares at the floor. Caleb’s chest aches at the sight of it, knowing he can do nothing to end the pain, only lessen it.

“I sold my last home away for him,” Essek mutters after a moment, voice scalding with the hurt it contains. “He cannot take my new one from me too.”

The last words break on a sob and Caleb catches him just as he pitches into his arms. Tight as a vice, he holds Essek to his chest as he weeps, face buried in the scarf he himself knitted.

“Come home to me, Caleb Widogast,” he begs. “Please don’t leave me.”

Caleb has not heard him sound so broken in years.

“I will,” he whispers, ignoring the sour bite of uncertainty in his throat, and presses a kiss to Essek’s curls. “I’ll come home, my love.”

[loveisloveisacomplicatedgirl]

oH my gOd theRE's no DePth to baKugO WiThoUt miDOoRiyA- ok you fucking npc, i guess without one specific person in your life you would have no depth either

[gotstabbedbyapen]

I have a minor grievance with the depiction of Hyacinthus' death in many fanfics.

People tend to make Hyacinthus as someone who accepts his death/fate quickly or anticipates it because he knows "it's the price for falling in love with a god" or something like that. And, sometimes, Hyacinthus is composed enough to comfort Apollo before or after his death (in spirit form).

Not that it's wrong to write Hyacinthus like that, but I find it unrealistic to make him so chill with his death. Remember, Hyacinthus died as a young man at the peak of his youth. He has a bright future ahead. He has a family and a lover whom he loved so dearly. And yet his life is suddenly ruined by one mistake, and he has to part from everything so soon.

I get that there is no record of how Hyacinthus reacts to his death (most dead people don't get it either), but it's a missed opportunity for double angst. Hyacinthus isn't an old man who embraces his death right away. Yes, he understands that his demise is inevitable, but when it strikes him when he is at his best, he can still crumble as any mortal would because he is still a mortal himself. He can never hold Apollo with the veil of life and death between them. That tears him into pieces.

I used to read a Hyapollo fanfic (When The Sun's So Far Away) and absolutely loved its shared description of Hyacinthus' emotional storm with mine.

[ohromeoraine]

Here’s some Shinsou Hitoshi headcanons I have:

He has crippling insomnia(have you seen those eye bags?)

He has a dark sense of humor

Tokoyami and him read old spell books together and secretly try them out on Bakugou(“he doesn’t believe in that anyway, right? So he should be easy to practice on”.)

They also tried spells on Kaminari, but he started info dumping on them about how they might actually not just be superstitions.

Kaminari starts joining them on said spell practice days and laughs when he finds out their target is Bakugou.

Shinsou buys three bags of coffee each week. One for the entire class to share, one for himself, and the last one he stashes in his room just in case(He learned his lesson after Midoriya stole his coffee bag last time. “What does he even need it for?”)

He said he wasn’t joining the hero course to make friends, but Midoriya ate lunch with him everyday and others started joining one by one. One day Todoroki announced that he’d, “unlocked his tragic backstory,”(“That’s what Bakugou calls it.”) and proceeds to trauma dump on Shinsou. Shinsou wants to brainwash him into giving a villain a bouquet of flowers and asking them to marry him unprovoked, and Midoriya cackles.

He actually makes friends in the hero course, but he doesn’t admit it immediately. Shinsou isn’t used to having friends before UA, so this is new territory for him.

I have more stashed somewhere in my brain I swear, but part of this became a full on fic idea. I hope you enjoyed part one!(yes, there will be a part two).

[youling-the-ghost]

Villain Deku AUs have always confused me because like...did we watch the same show?? Midoriya's heroism is so strong that it allowed him to:

inherit One For All from All Might

pass the UA exam (with the help of his new quirk)

save not one, not two, but three children from deadly villains AND inspired them in different ways

and probably more that I'm forgetting.

I'm not saying that Villain Deku is a bad idea or anything, I really like the concept! I just find it weird how some people say things like "the timeline where Deku is a villain instead of a hero is not far from the canon one" because there's not a single ounce of villain-ness in canon Midoriya's body.

Another main problem that I have with most of these AUs is how they almost always paint All Might as the bad guy: "Oh, he's the one that caused Midoriya to spiral into villainy" and "If All Might had been nicer to him, he wouldn't have turned to villainy" are both sentiments that I've commonly seen before which again, confuses me.

Most of this hinges on the whole "you can't be a hero without a quirk" thing, which honestly? It makes sense to a certain extent. Remember, All Might was quirkless too. He knows how helpless quirkless people are in the world. Midoriya can train until he's on par with UA students without a quirk, sure, but that doesn't erase the social ostracisation that all quirkless people experience. The truth is that the public severely looks down on quirkless people, and that's not something that a single passionate middle school student can fix. Sure, Toshinori could've phrased himself better, but what he was trying to say isn't false; it is very difficult, maybe even impossible for quirkless people to become Pro Heroes given the current system.