Marcus gives himself a minute to admire your profile, eyes tracing everything from the curve of your eyelashes to the turn of your lips. His gaze lingers on the gash across your cheek, the one gifted to you by Granada as he helplessly watched in horror. His hands shake from fighting the urge to reach out and trace it, terrified that even that small gesture will spook you and send you back into your apartment and block him out for good.
“Sarah?”
Your eyes pop open at the sound of your name and you look up at him slowly, patiently waiting for him to continue.
I commissioned this amazing piece of art by the talented and wonderful @shite-art months (guys, months!) ago. They were so kind and generous, listening to me ramble about a chapter that was half written, helping to bring to life when Marcus and Sarah finally have their moment. I cannot say it enough; if you ever get a chance to commission something from Maia, please do. You will not be disappointed.
Thank you, Maia. Every detail is perfect; from the cut on Sarah’s cheek, to Marcus’s bloody knuckles, to his untied boot, to Sarah’s messy hair, to Marcus’s belly. You captured the love these two have for each other in how they’re looking at each other, bodies cheated in. It’s exactly how I pictured this moment, and I am endlessly grateful for you. Thank you, for this, for being my friend, for everything. I love you so big!
hi, yes, is this thing on? hola! i’m mika and i’ve been making masterlists for some characters pedro has played over the years!
the idea behind making these masterlists is that (hopefully!) more people can read old works (some of us are new to the pedro party, alright? be nice to us! #tpwk lmao) and also new works (as i update it!) ✨
i’m gonna be doing a big update these next few days/weeks, so! if you wanna put a smile to my face and be part of the masterlists you can fill aform that’s linked on my tumblr bio or send me a message!
last but not least! if you check the masterlists r e m e m b e r to REBLOG and maybe reply too, ya know? that’s also nice the original posts bc these people are blessing us with their writing for f r e e!!! likes are nice and all but they don’t get writings anywhere really! having a lot of notes is cool and whatnot but actually reblogging something is ✨ so yeah be the real mvp and reblog the author’s works bye!
Warnings: SMUT, making out, oral sex (m and f receiving), PinV sex, hand jobs, voyeurism, mentions of PTSD, mild angst, mentions of Marcus’ late wife as well as fluff, sweetness, affection, polyamory, M/M and M/F smut ahead as well as group sex because everyone is in love with everyone here
Summary/Notes: So here it is: my first throuple fic!!! I’ve been wanting to write one forever and once I decided on Frankie and Marcus the words started flowing! I love poly fics and thought the fandom could use more. I recognize this won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, but I hope those who like it do enjoy! And I am very much open to writing more for them in the future if anyone is interested. As always, likes, comments, reblog appreciated!!
Taglist Form (or feel free to message me I’m nice I promise)
…
It’s such a relief every time Frankie pulls in the driveway and sees both your and Marcus’ cars already in their spots. He hops out and goes inside, excited to see everyone after his latest appointment. His road to recovery has been hard, harder at times than he thought he could stand. But knowing you and Marcus and Missy were at home, rooting for him? It’s kept him going on some of the toughest days and nights he’s ever experienced.
He’s brought out of his reminiscing when he opens the door and you’re walking through the living room with a basket of folded laundry. When you hear him coming in, you set the basket down and immediately jog over to him to embrace him without a word. Frankie relaxes immediately in your hold and buries his nose in your neck, breathing deep.
You don’t say anything while he leans against you, letting him get himself reacquainted with being home after the emotional upheaval that therapy always brings. He lets you know it’s okay to talk by lifting his head enough to press his lips to your cheek, planting a firm kiss there just for you.
“How was it?” you ask, watching his expression up close now that he’s looking at you.
“Good,” he says with a sigh, “hard. But we’re making progress.”
You grin at him and lean in to give him a sweet kiss on his plush lips, gasping a little when he presses his hand into your lower back so you’re flush against each other. You don’t get a chance to say anything else because Missy comes bursting into the room, proclaiming dinner is ready and she’s hungry.
I’ve had this idea for a fic in my mind for MONTHS… it’s a one shot but, you know later who knows! I might write more of this if people are interested. Enjoy!
Warnings:WCBH au: absolutely no kids, coffee shop au (kinda), mentions of violence, body injuries, some cuss words. If this makes no sense I’m sorry, I’ve had like 300 words of it on my WIPs for months and finished it this afternoon. No beta we die like men. Word Count: 2k+
The bell of the shop rings to announce a new guest, causing the owner and the other two baristas behind the counter to automatically glance towards the entrance. Your own peeping is interrupted by the toaster oven going off, and you hurry to pull out the croissant inside before it burns. By the time your mindless task is done and you turn towards the register, there’s already one of the new girls taking the customer’s order.
I have about 15 different subjects waiting in my art queue, but then I saw this image from the Talk Easy podcast and couldn’t help myself. What a breathtaking smile!
Painted on procreate in mixed media.
Immediate smile on my face looking at this, you captured that cheery and beaming vibe so well. The pastels! The color accents of that messy hair! The hair peeking out under the ears! So lovely.
comments : wanted to write a cute little picnic date fluff and i chose marcus bc it felt right hehe hope yall like it! (got the gif on pinterest by Jane R!!)
You and Marcus agreed to have an annual monthly date after realizing you hadn’t been on a date in a long time due to his and your respective jobs. It was his turn to plan the date this month. His dates were more laid-back, preferring a calmer atmosphere to one full of adventure, as he believes his life is already full of excitement.
Marcus had arranged a charming little picnic date this time. He enjoys the planning stage so much that he packed lots of food, drinks, and even games to keep them entertained. Not to mention the fact that he leased a pick-up truck just for this date, as his own car would be unsuitable with his plans. He also crammed a lot pillows and blankets.
Marcus drove with one hand while the other was interlaced with his sweetheart on the way to the picnic area, which was accompanied by a comfortable stillness.
It wasn’t long before they arrived at their destination, a lovely meadow brimming with vibrant flowers. Marcus was the first to exit the vehicle and set up the back of the pickup truck, neatly arranging the pillows and blankets. When he was done, he assisted you in climbing the cargo bed and then hopped up himself.
The meadow is tranquil and devoid of people, with the exception of the two of you. What a great date it is, nibbling on delectable treats, laughing together while playing games, and generally enjoying each other’s company.
When you’re having fun, time flies, and before they realized it, the sun was sinking, signaling that their date was coming to a close. “I wish we could stay here forever.” You frown as you draw closer to his figure. “As wonderful as it sounds, honey, our forever will have to wait.”
“But the sun hasn’t completely set yet!” Can’t we stay a bit longer? Please?” You looked at him with the sweetest puppy eyes, trying to prevent him from refusing. Little did you know, this man would go to any length for you, and those eyes you gave him only added to his love for you. “Of course, we can stay an hour or so longer. It’s been a lovely day, hasn’t it?”
Summary:Marcus Moreno, head of the Heroics, meets Missy’s new teacher.
Word Count:1,881
Rating:G
Warnings: None, it’s a meet cute!
A/N:@creativekat and I came up with the idea to write a story together and see how it went. This is the result. We really enjoyed ourselves and will definitely be doing it again!
You stood at the small mirror above the sink in your classroom, double checking your appearance. You were dressed professionally but comfortably in a pair of fitted trousers, sweater, and ballet flats. Your hair was pulled away from your face, though you toyed with the idea of taking it out of its ponytail. You did that, but then decided it looked more “put together” pulled back. So, you gathered it at the back of your head and secured it once again.
Once you were satisfied with your appearance you took a deep breath and began to run through your motivational mantras, “You can do this. Sure, you aren’t a Heroic … but, that doesn’t make you’re unimportant. You have skills. You’re smart. You deal with kids five days a week. What’s a few meetings with their parents?” With a sigh, you added, “Their Heroic parents.”
My first post on tumblr and I thought it deserved to got to the author who’s writing got me on tumblr in the first place!! I absolutely love this series so far and cannot wait for more!!
First of all, this, THIS, is a huge HUGE compliment and I am CRYING at your generous words.
I cannot take complete credit for this story because my wonderful co-author @creativekat is the genius behind many moments in this story!
Thank you so so much for loving my work and loving on my blog I hope you have a wonderful upcoming week!
^^My exact reaction when @the-purity-pen showed me this! Thank you so much for your kind words and appreciation for our story. We’ve been having such a great time collaborating on this and I’m so grateful knowing there are others out there who love it as much as we do!! <3 <3 <3
Warnings: heavy petting, serious making out, unintentional piercing play
A/N:@the-purity-pen and I are so excited to share the next chapter!! Things are heating up and this ended up being our longest chapter yet!! We hope you enjoy and if you want to be added to the tag list let me know!!
Marcus’s hands were shaking and sweating as he drove to your house. He had no intentions of going inside in your house but when he offered to pick you up for the date you had bid on and won, you couldn’t help but smile and tell him yes.
At a nearby stoplight, he wiped his hands on the thighs of his suit pants. He opted to go semi-casual with suit pants and jacket but just a dark grey t-shirt underneath. Missy told him that a tie would be too much and she wanted him to be comfortable on his first real date in a long time.
When he finally pulled up to your house, he waited in the car for a minute to calm himself and remind himself that this was just a casual first date. Nothing serious had to come of it even if he had been crushing on you for nearly an entire year. He finally got the courage to go up to your door and give it a hearty knock.
You had gotten ready early, worried about making a bad impression by keeping Marcus waiting. So, you paced the living room of the small house you rented, trying to avoid walking to the hallway mirror to double check your appearance. You’d worn a dress and heels, though Marcus had told you it would be casual. The dress wasn’t fancy or anything, just a simple summery dress, which you paired with a cardigan sweater.
When you heard the knock on the door, you nearly jumped out of your skin, you were so keyed up. Taking a moment, you took a deep, calming breath and released it hoping Marcus wouldn’t notice how jittery you felt.
As you walked to the door, you couldn’t help but glance at your reflection. You actually felt pretty cute and paused to smile at yourself in the mirror. You grabbed your purse from the console table and answered the door. The sight of him took your breath away. People could rave all they wanted about Marcus Moreno’s Heroics gear, but you’d take him looking like this any day of the week. “Hi,” you breathed out.
Marcus was just as dumbfounded seeing you dressed like that. Your hair looked immaculate and your smile was heart-melting. He blinked a few times, taking in your form before he finally swallowed a large lump in his throat and croaked out a soft “hi.”
You smiled wryly, finding it adorable how flabbergasted he seemed. His hands were wringing together in front of him and you stepped forward to place your hand on his which calmed him. He looked up at you and felt his heart skip a beat from how close you were.
“You look wonderful,” you complimented him and his cheeks started to flush pink.
Marcus shook his head, as if to clear it, before responding, “So do you. Stunning, in fact.” He laughed self-consciously at the admission.
He turned, only let go of one of your hands, keeping the other firmly in his grasp as the two of you walked to his car. When you reached the passenger side door, he reached out to open the door and helped you into the seat before closing it and making his way around to his side.
You hadn’t really discussed where the date would take place. Marcus had simply said he wanted to surprise you and that it would be “casual”. Anticipation swelled within you and your mind raced with the possibilities of what was in store tonight. You noticed that Marcus drove very carefully and you appreciated the fact that his regular persona seemed to be all about care and protective nurturing. You supposed this was because his hero persona faced so many risks. He glanced over at you and smiled and you returned it easily.
Marcus finally pulled into the parking lot of the science center and you gave a soft gasp. Your secret passion was science and while you had adored many field trips to the science center over the years, somehow being here with Marcus was bound to be far more romantic and memorable.
As the two of you walked in, Marcus gave his name and the woman behind the counter gave you both paper bracelets that allowed access to every part of the center. His hand only left yours briefly to try to attach his bracelet but you giggled and helped him put his on. The close proximity had your pulse racing in your ears as you looked at his eyes when the bracelet was on all the way.
“Where are we going first?” you ventured in curiosity as you grabbed one of the center maps and unfolded it. It was much larger than the last time you had been there and you wondered what new exhibits had been added.
“How about the cute animals first?” Marcus asked as he started to walk backwards to lead you down the small hall to the exhibit. You bit your lip slightly when his eyes met yours, eyebrows slightly raised. It felt like he wanted to make you happy and your entire body warmed at the promise of what that meant.
“When I came here as a kid, they let us hold a tarantula.” You tilted your head proudly, “I was the only girl in my class who was willing to do it.”
Marcus returned to walking beside you and squeezed your fingers lightly, “I have no doubt. Any woman who can handle working with a bunch of pre-teen kids daily wouldn’t be fazed by a silly spider.”
As the two of you entered the first room of the animal exhibit you saw that several parrots were flying freely about the room and laughed out loud when a small blue and gold Macaw landed on Marcus’ head. “I think that one likes you.”
Marcus’s whole body froze when the bird landed on him but your words caused him to let out a short burst of laughter. “Well he’s not pecking my head so I guess so,” he answered with a small chuckle before the bird was flying off his head and landed on your shoulder.
“Hmmm, it seems like he has good taste in women too,” he said with a wink and you swear your heart leapt from your chest at the simple gesture.
After some more venturing through the reptiles and the “exotic” exhibit that showcased sloths this month, Marcus took your head again and led you down a narrow hall. Just then, a small group of children decided to rush past you. “Whoa!” Marcus exclaimed as he turned and caged you in against the wall, trying to stop the both of you from being trampled on by the tiny feet as they all yelled and hollered past you.
You felt Marcus’s body pressed against yours shielding you from danger and the air left your lungs. Your skin tingled at his proximity and as the tiny army of children made their way into the room you’d just left you took a moment to try and catch your breath. Licking your lips you lifted your gaze to look Marcus in the eyes and spoke softly, “Thank you… for saving my life.”
Marcus chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated from his chest to yours, causing more tingles throughout your body. You laughed with him and though you were feeling the humor of the situation, you also felt something else. A yearning for him.
He was feeling the same yearning as the two of you locked eyes in the narrow hallway. He hadn’t moved from his protective stance, even though the children had disappeared, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just startled.” As you spoke you realized how close his mouth was to yours. Either one of you could move slightly and you’d be kissing. He did just that and his lips were just brushing against yours when a voice from just outside the hallway broke the spell. You weren’t really alone and that was a stark reminder of the fact.
Marcus pulled away from you, clearing his throat, and you gave him a lopsided grin, “Remind me to thank you more thoroughly later.”
Moving together toward the next room, both of you reached for the other’s hand as Marcus replied, “I look forward to it.”
An hour later and you had explored the exhibits that were actually open. The last one to see what the constellation one but there was some time before the next show would start. You stood with Marcus, your fingers intertwined, your back against the wall near the entrance to the stargazing exhibit.
“Do you want a snack before we go in?” Marcus offered, gesturing down the hall a bit to the vending machines. You nodded with a smile and he led you over to grab a couple of snacks and a soda to share. You were surprised his taste in soda was similar to yours.
The two of you were ushered in and took your seats. Before the show even started, your eyes were looking up at the domed ceiling. “Oh! That one is my fave! Machina Electrica,” you said happily as you pointed to the faded star shape on the ceiling.
Marcus looked up to where you were pointed and squinted. “You can see that?” he asked and you chuckled.
“I just know where it would be based on how they run the shows. Usually they start by showing you the current set up of the stars based on the earth’s rotation and then they slowly slide you through the seasons to show how-” you looked over at Marcus to see him staring at you and immediately clamped your mouth shut. “I’m sorry. I’m such a nerd about this stuff and I-”
Marcus placed his hand over yours gently and interrupted your rambling. “I like it.” You had immediately stopped talking assuming he was getting annoyed by your overwhelming passion for the star exhibit. But, his words were like cupid’s arrow, piercing your heart. If you liked him before that was nothing compared to the fact that he said he liked your geeky rambling.
“Oh, well… umm, okay … good.” You felt your cheeks warming and Marcus smiled at you, thinking you look extra-beautiful with your shy smile and eyes shining with happiness. He felt the urge to kiss you again, but this was a public place and the seats were filling up quickly now that the show was close to starting.
The lights dimmed and suddenly the ceiling above resembled the clear night sky. Several kids in the audience made an “oooh” sound and Marcus heard you gasp, one palm covering your heart. “It never gets old,” you whispered, and he thought to himself, he would bring you here every day if he could just see that look on your face.
The show ended and the two of you walked out hand in hand. Your heart was racing from the pure excitement and beauty of the star show. Marcus found that his heart was racing as well but it wasn’t from watching the stars.
As the two of you walked out into the chilly evening air, you felt your body shiver slightly as you adjusted to the new temperature. Marcus moved closer to wrap his arm around your shoulders and rubbed at your arm lightly. “You okay?” he asked. You nodded and told him you were okay, just adjusting to the night air.
You both started to walk slower as you reached the car. Marcus let his arm slowly slide down your body and you turned to face him. “Do you have anything else fun planned?” you asked as you looked into his eyes. The softness of his smile nearly melted you into a puddle on the ground.
“One more stop,” he told you as a playful smile crossed his lips. “And, if you want, we can make a bet,” he offered, his voice dropping an octave as he took a step closer, his hand resting comfortably on your hip.
“Oh yeah? A bet on what?” you asked, the playful smile echoing to your own face.
“If I win, you come home with me for a night cap.”
“And if I win?”
“You get whatever you want.”
“How about a kiss?”
“We don’t have to wait for that,” he said, his lips now brushing against yours before his hand came to the side of your face and his lips pressed against yours softly. Your hands came up to rest on his lower back as your mouth opened for him. Your tongue pressed against his in a sultry dance, pleading for more.
You pulled away long enough to say, “I guess I’ll have to think of something else if I win then.” Your mouth searched for his again for another kiss. Your body stirred with longing to be closer to him than you already were, to feel his hands on your intimate places, to feel his breath against your skin.
You both seemed to realize you were still in the science center parking lot and pulled apart reluctantly. “I’m not sure I can think of anything better than that though.” You could, but it was best to keep those thoughts to yourself right now. Marcus pulled you close to his side as he unlocked the passenger door for you, then teased you with another slow drag of his lips across yours. Eyes closed, you attempted to follow his mouth as it retreated.
As you settled into the seat, you could feel your body’s reaction to him. And he hadn’t even used his power on you. He hadn’t known what he was doing the previous two times. You wondered what would happen if you told him about your piercing and how he could control them. Again, a conversation for another time.
As he slid into the driver’s side, you asked, “So, any hints as to where we’re going? Other than it involves one of us winning something?” You smiled sexily in his direction. He looked over at you and narrowed his eyes a bit in a big smile.
“It’s a game. That involves a ball. Or two,” he offered simply before changing his attention to the car to start it up and take off. He drove for a few minutes but his hand rested on his thigh, his fingers tapping nervously as he drove down the freeway.
Your eyes caught the movement and you turned and placed your hand gently over his, your palm resting against the back of his hand, your fingers slowly interlocking with his. As he pulled off the next exit and waited at the red light, he pulled your hand up to kiss the back of it softly, lingering his lips against your skin.
Your heart raced at the gentle moment before he was placing your hand and his back down to his thigh as he took off towards the miniature golf course. You immediately let out a laugh when the sign came into view. “Petey the Pirate’s mini golf?” you asked with a laugh and Marcus just smiled brightly and nodded.
You laughed, a bright unfiltered sound, “I don’t think I’ve been here since high school!” It probably hadn’t been quite that long, but back then you’d spent a lot of hours at the mini-golf course. Not that you were going to admit that to Marcus Moreno. “So… whoever wins mini-golf gets to choose how the night ends, eh?” Glancing at your date, you wink at him then laughed again.
Marcus grinned, “I take it I chose well when planning this date?”
“Oh yes, you’re two for two so far, Mr. Moreno.” You had been having a great time and it seemed like every time you thought the day couldn’t get any better, Marcus surprised you. Your heart raced just thinking about how he’d planned this special night for you and he’d gotten everything so perfect.
He got out of the car and rushed around to open the door for you. The two of you walked hand in hand toward the booth that sold the balls and putters and you couldn’t help but laugh giddily in anticipation. Taking your putter and ball, you bit your lip looking at Marcus, “You should know that I’m … not very good at this game.”
After paying the guy for the balls and putters, Marcus looked to you as he waited for his change with a raised eyebrow. The way you bit your lip was instantly driving him crazy but he cleared his throat and turned back to get his change before grabbing his putter.
“Yeah? Well, erm,” he cleared his throat again, “Maybe I can show you some tips and tricks,” he offered nervously, trying to sound smoother than he actually was. He nearly tripped over the little divider between the entrance walkway and the first green.
He straightened himself up and you found yourself snickering quietly. “Alright, alright. Let’s get to it so we can see what happens with our bet,” he said playfully as he set his ball down and took in a deep breath. He felt a familiar vibration through his hands as he guided the putter exactly where he wanted it to go to land the ball just outside the pocket.
You watched as Marcus lined up his shot and then the ball zipped it’s way toward the hole, stopping just short of dropping in. You looked at the ball then looked at him and raised your eyebrow, “I can see my work is cut out for me.”
You dropped the ball onto the little dark circle that marked the tee. Looking down the astroturf lane, you lined up your shot. In truth, you could easily make this shot. You’d practically lived at Petey’s as a kid, but you wanted Marcus to win. Not to make him feel good about himself. You knew he wasn’t the kind of man to care about that stuff. But, the more time you spent with him the better that night cap sounded.
So, you lined up the shot, then hit it just to the left of where you wanted it to go with more effort than the putt required. The ball overshot the hole and bounced hard off the little wall that lined the hole and stopped halfway back to its origin. “I might need that help,” You snickered.
Marcus’s gaze snapped back to you after having watched your ball go too far and bounce back. He was smirking but trying to hide it, trying not to make fun of you for being so bad on such an easy first shot. He nodded with a tight smile before moving closer to you. He leaned down and grabbed the ball and placed it just to the right of the mark instead of directly on it.
“Okay, first. Don’t trust the tee mark,” he told you as he stood up and turned towards you with a smile. He moved beside you to place his putter against the little fence to store it there. He turned back towards you and rubbed his palms together. “Alright. Show me your stance,” he told you and you stared at him for a moment with a cocked eyebrow. He laughed before moving to mimic as if he were holding the putt. “How you stand. You know, like this?”
You moved your feet apart, showing off a decent stance for mini-golf. Marcus nodded, “That’s good… but you don’t have a good grip on your putter.” He walked over to you, placing himself behind you. A slow smile spread across your face. He was doing exactly what you’d hoped he would. He began to manipulate your limbs, placing your arms where he thought they needed to be. Everywhere he touched you seemed to burn in reaction.
Then Marcus’ arms wrapped around you, placing his hands over yours. His torso was pressed to your back and you practically moaned. You managed to keep the sensual sound to yourself. Marcus’ hands were tender, but you could feel the exact moment his powers manifested, working their magic on the putter in both your hands. The magnetic sensation tugged lightly at your piercings and this time you couldn’t help yourself. You whimpered quietly, feeling the vibration in your nipples and your clit. Suddenly your knees were weak.
Marcus didn’t hear you the first time but he absolutely heard you the second time as he swung your arms together and hit the ball. It bounced off the back wall gently, landing just a few inches away from his own ball. But he didn’t move. He felt like he couldn’t. His body was vibrating in a whole new way with the noise you were making. “A-are you.. Okay?” Marcus asked in your ear, his hands still covered yours over the putter.
Your lips curled into themselves as you nodded slowly. You couldn’t find the words to tell the man that you were on an official first date with that his superhero powers were tingling the piercings in your tits and clit. Marcus leaned a bit closer and his lips barely grazed the shell of your ear as he spoke again. “If you’re sure,” he spoke softly as he pulled away from you. You bit your lower lip, trying to stifle the whine you were tempted to let out from the loss of contact with him. All you could think about was being close to him, all the time.
Marcus was just as affected and immediately turned around to grab his putter and took a deep breath in, trying to calm himself. He knew he liked you, and from the way things were going, it was very clear that you liked him back. But was it appropriate to get that physical on the first date? It had been too long since his last first date but he was pretty sure that the sounds you were making were not ones he had made anyone make on a first date.
You watched him collect himself. He had turned away and part of you wondered if you’d done something wrong. It wasn’t like you’d been able to control your reaction to him. And it wasn’t like he’d intended to turn you on like he did. He didn’t even know about your piercings, so you knew he hadn’t meant to tweak them. When he’d been standing behind you, it had felt like maybe you were having an affect on him as well.
Finally, he turned back to you and smiled, “Next hole is the Cave of Mystery!” Marcus added a spooky element to his voice when he said the name making you giggle. You were quickly figuring out that he was kind of a goofball, in the very best way. The more time you spent in his presence the more you liked him. As his daughter’s teacher, you told yourself you shouldn’t feel this way about him, but you couldn’t resist the desire to get closer.
As you walked to the next hole, he took your hand once again sending a ripple of pleasure throughout you. The cave entrance loomed in front of you and as you both stepped inside, you commented, “I hope you aren’t afraid of the dark.”
“If I was afraid of anything, I likely wouldn’t be the world’s greatest superhero,” he replied playfully as he set his ball down to take his first shot. The ball bounced the corner and disappeared around a cave wall and he hoped it didn’t land in the sand trap.
He stepped to the side and turned towards you. “Do you need help on this one too?” he asked, feeling his heart ramp up in rhythm at the thought of being closer to you again.
You smiled wryly at him with a small shrug of your shoulders. “If you wouldn’t mind,” you offered quietly and took your place. Marcus took a moment and came up behind you again to hold you and guide your ball. The familiar vibrations ran down your body and you bit your lower lip with a soft moan again. The ball bounced just the same as his ball had done and around the cave wall it went.
But Marcus didn’t move except to put his face closer to your cheek. You could feel his light scruff tickling your cheek and you felt your body heat up at the closeness again. His breath was warm as it fanned over your skin and you could have sworn his lips had pursed to kiss the shell of your lightly. Before you could think about that or even react to it, he’d pulled back, “We should see where our balls went.”
You bit your lip to keep from laughing at what he’d said. Spending all day with pre-teens meant your sense of humor sometimes took a dive into low-brow territory. This didn’t escape Marcus’s attention however and he chuckled lightly, “Can you even play mini-golf without everything sounding dirty?”
Finally letting loose with a soft giggle-snort, you shook your head, “I don’t think so. Unless maybe you’re a saint.”
Marcus gave you a look, his gaze full of heat and replied, “I’m not a saint,” as he pulled you around the corner. The light was much dimmer here. You remembered this had been a popular make out spot for the kids in your class when you’d been in high school. It was private and you could always hear when people were coming so getting caught was easy to avoid.
As soon as the memory had formed in your head, Marcus was turning you into his body and kissing you again, his hand gently gripping the back of your head. Stepping back, you found yourself pressed to the uneven wall of the “cave”. You moaned deeply into his mouth as your hands ran over his ribcage and over his hips so you could cup his ass.
Marcus’s lips slotted against yours and he groaned when your hands found his ass. He pressed you more against the wall, his hand sliding to your jaw to hold your face. His other hand slid up from your waist and tentatively explored over your stomach before sliding up over your breast.
Within an instant, his hand was buzzing with power and his palm attracted something hard from under your thin shirt. A piercing? His mind whirred with lust as he broke from the kiss for air and moved his lips down to your neck.
His hand on your breast placed his power directly where it could have the most effect and you responded immediately, making a sound between a gasp and a moan. Marcus continued to pull and twist gently at your nipple piercing, making you whimper softly, as he suckled at the curve of your neck. You were on the verge of coming already and he hadn’t even found your other piercing. As if reading your mind, he pulled away from your neck long enough to whisper in your ear, “What other surprises do you have for me?”
Jaggedly, you replied, “Why don’t we … say you won … and we can go … to your … place … and you can … find out?”
You looked around the large rented ballroom and shook your head nervously. You had brought up the idea of taking the kids out on field trips to facilitate their learning and the Heroics school board had decided to hold a fundraiser to help take this from an idea to reality. You hadn’t imagined that they might opt to raise said funds by auctioning off dates with the Heroics themselves. Since the event would be opened to the public, it couldn’t be held at HQ (a logistical nightmare) so a local Events Center had been the next best option. Now, as you watched the room beginning to fill with people you could see why. This was, apparently, the event of the century.
Soft classical music was being piped in from speakers in the corners of the room as people mingled, getting drinks from the bar. Your students were all wearing black outfits and acting as greeters and coat-checkers so the gathering masses would see just who their money would be helping. You quickly realized, for some here, it wouldn’t matter where the money was going. A night on the town with one of the Heroics was a hot commodity.
Warnings: sweet moments, some dirty thoughts here and there
A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who is reading and commenting! It’s so amazing for @the-purity-pen and I to know that people are enjoying what we are writing! We have been having a blast writing it together!!
The individual pizzas had been a huge hit. The kids had loved deciding what toppings went on their own crusts. And the twins, Fast Forward and Rewind, had especially liked the fact that they didn’t have to share with one another. Everyone had finished eating and you were packing up the leftover food while Marcus put popcorn kernels into the air popper.
You carried a short stack of tupperware to the refrigerator and placed the items inside. Once the door was closed, you turned and leaned against it, releasing a small sigh of relief that the chaos of dinner was over. The kids were pretty active inside the classroom, but that was nothing compared to what they were like on their own time. Your ears rang with the laughter and happy shouts from earlier.
Turning your head, you watched Marcus load the air popper, his biceps moving just below the short sleeves of his shirt. Your eyes started to drink in the rest of him, but you stopped yourself. You were afraid to let your body react to him again like it had earlier. Suddenly thirsty again, you pushed away from the fridge door so you could open it. The cold air felt good on your warm skin. “So, that was a success,” you commented as your eyes searched the chilly space without seeing anything inside.
Marcus finished popping the corn and turned his head towards you before placing the popped kernels into separate little brown paper bags for the kids. He nodded with a soft smile on his face. “It was. I’m glad you were here to help,” he commented quietly, feeling himself having to turn away from staring at your body.
He focused on the popcorn and scooping an approximately even amount of popcorn into each bag. He moved slowly and carefully so as to not waste a single kernel. He knew that if Missy’s friends were anything like her, they would be devouring the popcorn and would definitely want more. He was thankful for the concentration because the more time you were closer to him, the more he felt the need to explain his feelings for you.
You sighed quietly and shook your head and when Marcus heard you, he swiped his hands on his jeans of butter and salt and came over. “What are you looking for? Can I help you find something?” he asked as he tried to lean into the fridge to look with you but the sudden closeness of him had you holding your breath. Marcus turned his head and realized he’d made a mistake. He could smell your shampoo and it made his head swim.
“Uhh… just trying to figure out what I could have to drink…” you stammered the words out and turned your eyes back to the fridge contents.
Clearing his throat, Marcus did the same, “Help yourself to anything… Do you want a beer? I think I’ll have a beer.” He reached back behind the orange juice and retrieved an IPA. When you nodded, he handed it to you and felt the immediate absence of your body next to his when you backed away from the refrigerator to find the bottle opener. When he closed the door he had his own beer in his hand.
You popped the top off yours and held the bottle opener out to him, which he took, careful not to let his fingers graze yours in the process. Trying not to stare at him, you took a long swallow of the cold beverage. Just then Missy burst through the door from the living room, “Is the popcorn done yet?”
You startled slightly as Marcus smiled, focusing on his daughter, “Yes, hija.” The three of you made yourselves busy as you took the bags into the living room to hand them out. You followed Marcus and Missy and finished handing out the bags to which all of the children said thank you. You smiled at each of them but you gave Wheels a little wink which he reciprocated.
The kids all started to dig into their popcorn and get back to watching their little movie marathon that Missy had turned on. You had no idea what the movies were about but they all seemed to be very excited about it.
Marcus left the living room with you, the two of you nearly walking side by side down the hall. Your shoulders just grazed each other as he took a few steps faster and you felt your breath hitch for a moment before you were clearing your throat and walking over to where you had set your beer down. Marcus grabbed his and walked over to the table and you opted to follow him to sit at the table beside him.
At first there was a silence between you and Marcus as you focused on the beer bottle label which had become loosened with condensation. You began to pick at it, peeling it bit by bit. Suddenly, Marcus cleared his throat, “So… tell me about you. Is your family local?”
Family was an interesting subject for you. You knew you didn’t fit in with them, so even though you all lived in the same town and you saw your older brother quite regularly, you still felt as if you were hundreds of miles apart. You let a small smile lift your features, “Ummm… yeah… but, we aren’t very close unfortunately.” You wondered if he would push the subject. You knew a lot about Marcus Moreno. You heard many stories about him over the years. Some of them you knew were true. Others you wondered about. “It must be nice having your mom around to help you with Missy.”
You went back to peeling at the label on the bottle. Half of it had come loose now. You paused in your hyper focused activity to take a drink, startled when Marcus met your eyes. You swallowed hard and set the bottle down, feeling incapable of looking away as his dark eyes searched your face.
Marcus couldn’t help his staring, that’s just how he listened. And when the conversation turned back to him, he sat up a bit straighter and swallowed a lump that had formed when hearing how you weren’t close with your family. He couldn’t imagine that and how lonely it might be.
“My mom certainly is great,” he said with a small nod. It was true though. Anita had been around much more after his wife died and was more than willing to help train Missy and her friends during the first alien attack last year. Marcus had a brief moment of wondering if you were a mother because seeing how you were with the kids made him think you’d make a great one.
But that comment was lost on his lips as he watched you, his eyes dancing over your features. He swallowed hard again and your own eyes couldn’t help but follow the movement of his throat. Your heart was racing and your nose flaring, which Marcus would later admit was very cute, as the two of you had a moment of intensity.
The moment seemed to draw itself out but neither of you looked away. Instead it seemed as if the space between you was closing. You inhaled sharply as his hand came up to your shoulder, stroking it lightly with his thumb, making you shiver. All the reasons you shouldn’t do this, right now, flooded your thoughts. The kids, his daughter, your students were in the next room. He was a Heroic and … your history with Heroics had not been good.
A protest formed on your lips as you whispered his name just before his lips found yours. The kiss was gentle but firm. There was yearning there, but no demands. Your mouth opened, inviting him to deepen things and your tongue pressed against his, sweetly. A soft moan escaped your throat as your hands reached for him, finding purchase on either side of his torso. You could feel the way his ribs expanded with his own labored breathing.
Marcus leaned in closer, if he could even manage that, when he felt your hand on his torso. Your touch was electric in ways he would have never imagined. He had been pining after you for so long and it was finally the moment he had thought of for so long.
His mind whirled with emotions as he kissed you deeper, slowly pressing his lips and tongue against you and into you, like a slow motion dance. The hand on your shoulder came up to cup your face, holding you to him as you kissed him with emotions you didn’t know you were capable of. It was a silent message between the two of you, a love letter written in the dark of night with whispers spoken into the ink.
Marcus pulled away in what felt like a too soon moment and you couldn’t help the soft whine that escaped you. Both of you were breathing hard, trying to catch your breath. Marcus rested his forehead against yours for a moment, his thumb tracing over your jaw before he pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes.
You licked your lips and treasured the taste of him for a moment longer as you tried to catch your breath. Your eyes searched his face, yearning for more, but wondering if you should even want that. Hesitantly, you pulled your hands away from his body, letting them rest a moment on his knees only for a moment, like a butterfly searching for a place to land.
Finally, you reached for the bottle again, taking a drink trying to quench the rampant thirst Marcus had brought out of you. Nervously, your hands moved to the label once more, peeling the last of it off in one swift pull. You laid it flat on the table, letting your eyes wander to the shiny paper, then returning to his immediately. He had a pull on you that you couldn’t seem to resist. With a shaky breath, you finally voiced one of the many thoughts you were having, “What, uhhh …. What does this mean?”
Marcus felt you shift back and he let his hand drop from your face but not before sliding it down to your arm slowly. His heart wouldn’t calm down as he watched you pull the label off but his eyes were only watching the movement in his peripherals. He was watching your face, watching your eyes, your lips and he could feel the way his own still tingled from the contact.
Your voice broke his stares and he cleared his throat. His lower lip quivered a moment, unsure of how to answer it without feeling too forward. Hell, you had just kissed in his kitchen with kids in the other room. Was there really such a thing as being too forward at this point?
“It uh-” he paused, his other hand coming to the label you had peeled off and picking at it slightly. A momentary distraction to try to gather his racing thoughts, ”I guess it’s me telling you that I like you. Ha- have liked you. For a while now,” his words stammered out. He let his gaze fall upon the label as he nervously picked at the corners, feeling the plastic coated paper peel away from itself as he touched it.
You couldn’t help but smile at his words, his shy movements. This was the great Marcus Moreno, leader of the Heroics, confessing that he liked you. “For a while?” You wondered aloud. You’d had no idea. A warmth filled your chest at this new knowledge and Marcus finally looked at you from the corner of his eyes, smiling shyly. Your heart hitched at the adorableness of that look.
But, then reality came roaring back to the forefront of your thoughts, forcing you to look away again. You thought of the kids in the other room. Of the way your family had always looked down at you, when they were the ones who were supposed to love you. The way you’d rebelled as a teenager, lashing out and getting into trouble. “I … uhhh, I like you too… but…” you didn’t want to tell him this wouldn’t work between you. But, some part of you wondered if that was true. Were you just getting in your own way? Letting your past affect your future.
Marcus waited patiently for you to gather your thoughts, even though he was dying to know what came after that “but”. He couldn’t imagine what it could possibly be. He hadn’t felt anything like this in years.
Finally, you shook your head and finished your thought, “why me? I’m nothing special.” You’d heard that enough times to know it was the truth. Marcus’s face dropped. That wasn’t the end of the sentence he was expecting. He thought it would be one of the other numerous excuses he had heard from others he had shown interest in. “Too busy.” “Too focused on work.” “Not good at relationships.”
He wasn’t expecting this but when he saw your own face change he reached over and held the underside of your chin gingerly. He slowly lifted your face to look him in the eyes. “You are though. So special,” he reminded you quietly as he leaned in and let his lips press against yours softly.
AKA: I’ve been creating this for months and finally feel ready to post it!
In lieu of a story this week, you guys get the world’s most chaotic headcanon list for almost all of the characters I write for. I didn’t add Oberyn or Tovar to the list because it was too late when I watched their respective medias. Oops. Anyway, enjoy my creative bullshit, my projection of my issues onto fictional characters, and my place to hold all my little quirks for characters.
Warnings: Some angst sprinkled throughout and of course some language. Also, this is a very long document! 15 google docs pages! Holy crap!
Din Djarin:
Din has a box aboard the Crest called a Before Box. Each foundling gets one, and they typically put things from their prior lives in the boxes. It’s made of beskar, so it survived the Crest’s explosion. In Din’s is his first helmet, his old robes from the day of the attack, a mythosaur plushie from his rescuer, and his very first blaster.
Din didn’t know pronouns and separate gender were a thing until he left the covert. Mando’a is a gender neutral language and all Mandalorians are equal regardless of gender, so seeing men and women treated differently and with different words was a surprise to Din.
Din can count on one hand the amount of people he trusts with his life. Surprisingly, Peli is at the top of that list.
He doesn’t know it, but Din has a sister. She was a newborn baby when Aq Ventina was attacked, and he always assumed she died. She didn’t die, and she’s now a lovely farmer on some peaceful water planet.
Din’s favorite color is teal.
To him it isn’t important, but one of his legs isn’t real. His left leg was bitten off by some monster on his very first bounty hunt. The prosthetic is made of beskar.
Din loves music. Sometimes he’ll sit in cantinas with a band for longer than he technically has to just so that he can listen to music.
Din went back to Arvala-7 after he gave Grogu to Luke. He didn’t stay for long. In fact, all he wanted to do was go find the dead body of the Mudhorn he’d killed and take a small bone from it. He ended up with one of its teeth and he put it in his Before Box.
More often than not, Din sleeps on the floor of the Crest. His bunk makes his back hurt.
Din’s pretty decent at sewing.
Every so often, Din visits Boba and Fennec so he can relax.
When he isn’t on the Crest or some other ship, Din has very odd sleeping preferences. He likes lots of pillows, at least three blankets, and some kind of ambient noise. He also prefers space to stretch out, but won’t complain if he has to sleep in close quarters.
He has a bedroom in Boba’s palace. It’s got everything he wants, including windows with dividers up against them so he can have the sunlight without the risk of someone seeing his face.
Din always sleeps in the same position. On his left side with his legs bent a bit and his arms up, so his arms are covering his face and his hands are in his hair. He also burrows in the blankets. It’s all just a security measure so if someone walks in, they won’t see his face.
After Grogu was taken by Luke, Din started to become more active with the foundlings. He’s the covert’s beroya and he’s allowed to leave, so the foundlings love to hear his stories about the outside.
Din can name a lot of planets. Like. A lot of them.
Din knows at least a tiny bit of most languages. He can say hello in every one he knows, but he’s sloppy with just about every language aside from Basic. Even Mando’a. He sometimes trips up his pronunciation or sentence structure.
Din is very very ticklish.
The last person to hug Din was Paz. They’re similar in age and grew up together in the covert. They shared a room, and they hugged each other on the day Din left to be the covert’s beroya, because they didn’t know when they’d see each other again.
Din’s close with most of the covert members, and they’re all as good as family, but Paz is the person he’s closest with.
Din’s poor back is in pain almost every day. He knows it’s from his less than ideal career and sleeping conditions, but he isn’t exactly going to change any time soon.
There is no force on this planet or any other that will ever convince me Din isn’t a cuddler.
When he was little, Din hated veggies, and his mother would always chastise him when he left them on his plate. She told him that if he ate his vegetables first, he could have dessert, but only if he ate the veggies first. Ever since then, even when she was dead and he was a bounty hunter, he always always eats his vegetables first.
Din snorts when he laughs. And I’m not talking small snorts either.
Occasionally, Din will lapse into mute spells, not talking to anyone, even if he has to. When this happens, he’ll hole himself up in Peli’s shop until he’s ready to leave because she’s the only one he knows who knows Tusken sign language. She won’t tell him, but she likes having him around and knowing he’s safe and well taken care of.
Din loves listening to thunderstorms when he’s sleeping in the Crest.
Din is the kind of person who sneezes like ten times in a row. But they’re all kitten sneezes! Even so, they sound hysterical when he can’t remove his helmet.
Din’s diet consists of super easy and basic things like soup, ration blocks, and the occasional space equivalent of a hot pocket.
I don’t care that it isn’t possible timeline wise. Din has met all five members of the Bad Batch at some point in his travels, however, he met them all separately, and hasn’t been able to put two and two together and realize they’re all one squad.
Marcus Moreno:
Marcus is lactose intolerant. Not severely, but just enough to make him hesitant before eating dairy products.
Marcus wasn’t able to fully mourn his wife for almost three months. He held himself together for Missy, and finally, he couldn’t take it anymore and drove to his mothers house so he could process every emotion he’d been suppressing. He was there for a little over two weeks in varying states of mourning while Missy stayed with a family friend.
Marcus still has his wisdom teeth. At this point, he’ll probably die with them.
Marcus was and will forever be an avid Doctor Who fan. His favorite Doctor is 11, but he was absolutely delighted when they announced 13, and she’s his very close second favorite.
Marcus can knit really well.
He never chose a hero name because he never intended to be a hero full time. So when the time came to introduce himself to the city, he just used his real legal name because he couldn’t think of anything else.
Marcus’s favorite fictional superhero is Superman. Don’t tell Miracle Guy though, because MG gets his inspiration from Superman, and whenever anyone says Superman is their favorite, he gets a big head about it.
Good lord does Marcus get sick easily. And it’s always super bad. He passed out once in the CVS parking lot once because he had pneumonia. Thankfully, this was before his wife passed away, so he didn’t face plant the asphalt.
Marcus has his own office, he just doesn’t ever use it. He prefers to know exactly what’s going on at all times, so he works in the information room.
Marcus’s reflexes are incredible. Despite that, he’s a very heavy sleeper. He’s slept through thunderstorms, earthquakes, villain attacks, and plenty more.
Marcus is a renaissance faire kind of guy. He loves going every year, and will put Missy on his shoulders so she can see the jousts better.
Before she passed, Marcus’s wife gave him a teddy bear with a recording of her heartbeat and her saying ‘I love you.’ Whenever Marcus is sad, he’ll listen to the recording.
Marcus lost his wife to cancer. It’s made him paranoid about his and Missy’s health.
Marcus is very adamant that in the Moreno household, we read the books before we watch the movies.
His dedication to this rule made him read each and every single Game of Thrones book. He actually enjoyed them once he was able to pass the 400 page mark of book 1.
Marcus’s vision is atrocious. I’m talking he’s well over 20/400 in both eyes, and can barely see six inches in front of his own face without contacts or glasses.
He snores. A lot.
Marcus wanted to be an elementary school teacher when he was growing up. Then, his powers became a thing and he only had one career path that he could take.
Marcus is big on ‘fuck gender.’ Once, after some asshat made sexist comments about female heroes, Marcus wore a leather skirt, his usual button up and leather jacket, and absolutely killer blood red high heels to some big hero event. He also got Ms. Vox to do his makeup. Pictures from that event were headline news for three months.
Marcus met his late wife when she spilled coffee all over him on her first day of work at a coffee shop.
Marcus is a 50/50 split between a Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.
He often eats the same things Missy does for breakfast. On the weekends, she has two Eggo waffles with Nutella on them, so that’s what Marcus eats too. He likes to make his into a sandwich though, and he always insists they eat a fruit.
Marcus will often send Missy completely ridiculous YouTube videos in the middle of the day. Including but not limited to: Mothman YMCA parody, every single Potter Puppet Pals, lots of otter videos, and vine compilations.
Marcus’s favorite TV show is Friends. He watches it with Missy all the time, and they quote it to each other whenever they can.
When Marcus is working out at Heroics headquarters, he listens to Twenty One Pilots’ ‘Trench’ album.
Once, while drunk, Miracle Guy dared Marcus to shave with one of his swords. Needless to say, Marcus still has that scar from where he almost slit his own throat on accident.
Marcus and Missy use Steven Universe as a way to talk about and better understand mental health. It works surprisingly well.
Ever since he was little, Marcus has had horrible chronic nosebleeds. No doctor ever found a cause, and they mellowed as he aged, so he only gets one every month or so.
Max Phillips:
Max will put up a huge cold front upon meeting anyone for the first time. But just wait, because that cold exterior will melt away with time and he will become the clingiest, neediest bitch eVER.
When he first turned, he did his best to only feed off of small animals. He never wanted to kill any people.
Animals hate him. With a passion. The only exception is cats. Which he’s allergic to.
Max’s eyes are actually red. They’re just a very very deep red that gets passed off as brown a lot.
Despite the fact that he can’t really die, Max is very cautious with his safety. He can still get hurt, and he hates it.
In his free time, Max reads a lot of YA fiction.
Sunlight won’t outright kill him, but it hurts like a bitch. Same with other vampire things. He can have garlic, sure, but it makes his throat swell like he’s allergic. He can totally touch holy items, they just give him second-degree burns.
Speaking of vampire things, Max has a whole notebook full of experiments he did when he first turned. He figured out all his powers, all his weaknesses, his limits, and all of it is kept in a small black notebook he carries everywhere.
Max doesn’t sleep. He uses the extra time to get work done super fast. He enjoys having weekends off.
Before he got turned, Max was battling Lyme disease and then Post-Treatment Lyme Disease Syndrome. It was hell, and he frequently wished for someone to put him out of his misery.
Max is a huge fan of musical theater. His favorite show is School of Rock.
For those of you who remember this chaotic mess, Max was an avid viewer of Unus Annus.
Max can smell illness from a mile away. He uses this skill often around the office to catch outbreaks of colds or the flu.
Sometimes, when he’s exhausted, Max will lay in bed and close his eyes. He doesn’t sleep, but he’ll relax in bed and try to rest his body.
Max has a very specific morning routine. He likes to sit on the front porch with a warm cup of blood, because he can’t have coffee, and listen to ‘The Amazing Devil’ songs while he watches the sun rise. Once the sun is up, he has to go in, but he likes to watch it rise before it starts to shine really bright and burn him.
Max is self conscious of his fangs. He’s always worried that they’re out when they shouldn’t be, and that he’ll be outed and have to leave the city.
To Max, the worst part about being a vampire is that he can’t cry.
Before he was turned, Max was severely dyslexic. Somehow, being turned fixed his dyslexia, and he’s oddly grateful.
Max cannot get drunk. That isn’t for lack of trying though.
Max loves horror games. He doesn’t think they’re scary, mostly just thrill-inducing. His favorites are the Resident Evil series of games because they span everything, from pure horror to more of an adventure game. He loves it all, especially the storytelling. Plus, the graphics are amazing.
Despite being a creature of darkness, Max is a very loving person, it’s just the outer shell that’s a complete bastard. Work your way under that, and you end up with a goofy college kid who really just likes kisses and cuddles.
Max sleeps with a Pillow Pet. It’s shaped like a dog. He named it Henry. (Much debate happened in college about whether Henry is named after Henry Cavill, Max’s secret celebrity crush. He will deny it until the day he dies again)
As a joke, one of Max’s vampire friends got him all five ‘Vladimir Tod’ books. He’ll never admit it, but he’s read all of them and thinks they’re hilarious.
Max is oddly glad that certain things about vampires aren’t true. For example, he does show up in mirrors and he can have his photo taken.
Max is left handed.
Max likes to play drinking games at local bars with college kids. He’s the fucking boss at beer pong because hey. Can’t get drunk.
Max’s bed doesn’t look like a bed. It looks like a bird’s nest made of pillows and blankets. It’s all because Max is a very physically cold person, and he very much likes being cocooned in his bed.
Max used to have a ridiculous sweet tooth. Now, because all food tastes like sawdust to him, Max likes to buy bags of candy and just smell them before sharing them with his human friends.
Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales:
Frankie is the only one of the boys who knows French because it was his language class in high school. He’s completely fluent and when the boys used to do stupid shit on missions, he’d chew them out in rapid fire French because he can say whatever he wants and not have the boys give him shit for it.
Frankie eats the same thing for breakfast every day. A bagel with a little bit of peanut butter. Oh, and at least three cups of coffee.
He is a complete slut for chicken nuggets.
Frankie has a very peculiar way of determining whether someone is worth a second date or not if he’s on the fence about it. He’ll ask them to guess his full first name to see if they pay attention, because he introduces himself as “Francisco but just call me Frankie.” Most people fail, because what the hell is Frankie even short for? Some people guess Francis, and he’s gotten Franklin once or twice. He gave in and went on a second date with someone who got it wrong exactly once, and that was because she said ‘Dr. Frank-N-Furter’ and he laughed for five minutes straight.
Frankie is prone to horrible, debilitating chronic migraines.
Sometimes I headcanon Frankie as trans.
In the trans headcanon, Frankie’s dead name is Francesca, and Santi helped him come out to his family and transition. There still exist junior prom photos of Frankie in a stunning dress, and then the next year in a handsome tux at senior prom.
I always headcanon Frankie as pansexual.
One of his favorite parts of going to the grocery store is admiring those shitty display cakes that are mostly frosting and chemicals. He also loves the lobster tank.
Frankie’s safe spaces are aquariums and bookstores.
Frankie’s love language is physical touch. If he doesn’t get hugs once every few days, it’s noticeable. He’s all sullen and quiet until someone asks him what’s wrong. Benny usually notices first. Sometimes, if it’s been a really long time without comforting contact, Frankie will stretch out on the couch or floor and Benny will lay on top of him. It’s deep pressure therapy, except that deep pressure is a squirmy best friend and not the usual weighted blanket.
Unlike Max, Frankie makes absolutely no effort to hide how clingy and/or needy he is.
Once, on a mission, a boulder fell and crushed Frankie’s foot and ankle. Thanks to his sturdy boots he wasn’t permanently disabled, but the rock was heavy as hell and there was a brief moment where they thought they’d have to do a field amputation. He needed three surgeries to fix the damage, and even years later that ankle still gives him trouble. He wears a brace for it sometimes.
Frankie got the name Catfish because he and Santi went skinny dipping in a lake in Louisiana during one spring break during high school, and Frankie got bit twice by a catfish. Once on the toe (he stuck his foot into a catfish hole, what did he expect?) and once on the dick. Santi laughed for ten minutes straight and called Frankie ‘Catfish’ for three weeks in a row after that. Once that story got around to the Miller boys, he was dubbed Catfish for the duration of his life. (Yes I know he probably got the nickname because of his facial hair, but shh, let me have my fun)
Frankie loves all his mission partners, but he’s closest with Benny. No one knows why. (Frankie knows why. He won’t tell anyone.)
For real, the reason Benny and Frankie are so close is because they were in a relationship at one point. It started as Benny exploring his sexuality, and then Frankie admitting he had a small crush on Benny, and then boom. Secret relationship. It only lasted a year (ish) but neither have forgotten and they’re still very very close to each other.
Frankie grew up in a huge and mildly problematic family. He was one of seven kids, and his parents were divorced.
Frankie’s a twin. He’s the younger one, and his twin sister is his best friend (aside from the boys).
Out of everyone on this headcanon list, Frankie’s the one with the most prominent and well cared for curls. Get his hair long enough and give it a good wash, and he’ll have those thick springy curls that are super fun to tug on and watch them bounce.
Frankie mourned Tom the longest.
Frankie’s favorite movie, hands down no questions at all, is How to Train Your Dragon. Specifically the second one.
Frankie’s sense of balance is somehow both impeccable and a goddamn horror show. He’s super stable and pretty steady when he has to be, but any other time, and he will constantly be tripping over his own two feet and dropping things and running into the corners of cabinets.
It isn’t odd to find Frankie with one or two band-aids and bruises on his body. He likes the fun character band-aids that are technically for kids. Let the man have Hello Kitty band-aids goddammit!
Frankie only has one phobia. Needles.
Frankie is the oldest of the boys after Tom died. Tom was older than him by two years, but Frankie’s got nine months on Santi, four years on Will, and six years on Benny. They tease the shit out of him and all routinely call him old. He joins in when his back aches.
Frankie’s a textbook Hufflepuff.
Frankie listens to My Chemical Romance when he exercises.
Frankie’s favorite fruit, if not his favorite food ever, is raspberries. He can, will, and has eaten three pounds of raspberries in one sitting. He was camping with the boys, and he threw them up half an hour later.
Frankie doesn’t complain about anything. If he starts telling the boys he’s in a little bit of pain, they immediately translate that into ‘Fish is actively dying.’
When the Boys were active duty, their team had no field medic, so Frankie was not only their pilot, but also their medic. He’s incredibly skilled when it comes to medicine, and could probably go to school to become a nurse if he wanted to.
Frankie hates being called Francisco. To him, it’s too formal and not a name that suits him. Not even Tom called him that, and that’s saying something, because Tom always used full names.
Frankie listens to ASMR videos to help him fall asleep.
Frankie always carries a small mass-market sized book when he goes on missions. Usually, it’s a fantasy novel like Game of Thrones or some sort of classic like the Hobbit, and he reads whatever he brought to help him fall asleep. Of course, this progressed into him reading an entire Witcher book to Benny on a long mission when Benny couldn’t sleep, but he likes Benny and he likes the book, so he won’t complain.
You cannot convince me that Frankie wasn’t the king of illegal and semi-legal drag racing when he was in his early twenties.
Upon realizing he had enough friends to be the Ghostbusters for Halloween, Frankie spent three years convincing his friends to go to a costume party with him as the Ghostbusters. Was Benny sad he couldn’t be a Ghostbuster? A little. Was he hella stoked to be the secretary? Yes he was. Did Frankie nearly piss himself laughing when Benny put the wig on? You bet he did.
Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels:
Some of the younger statesman agents (like Tequila) call Jack ‘Old Man.’ He doesn’t mind. This progressed into Tequila calling him Dad as a joke, and now literally anyone ten years younger than him calls him Dad for serious. Does he mind? Not really.
Jack’s nickname from Ginger is Casanova because of how overly flirty he is.
Jack’s favorite song is ‘Why’d you come in here looking like that’ closely followed by ‘9 to 5.’ Can you tell he just really likes Dolly Parton?
Jack has been fatally injured seven times. Four head shots, one lung shot, and two cases of poisoning.
When he gets drunk, Jack will try and do stupid stunts with his lasso. He gave himself a black eye once because he pulled a chair into his face.
Jack grew up on a ranch, and when his father passed away, he inherited it
Because of the ranch, Jack is an expert horseback rider. He used to compete professionally in rodeos before he became a Statesman agent.
He has plenty of animals, but his favorite are the cows! The cows don’t do much except look cute, and his favorite is Bella, who greets him every night when he comes home from work.
Jack loves old music. Catch him early in the morning dancing to whatever is playing on the 50’s station on the radio. He’s a huge goof about it too. Using the dirty spatula as a microphone and slipping around in his socks until he’s tripping and falling onto the floor. What a dork.
When he learned his wife was pregnant, he cried. A lot.
His wife wanted a baby boy because she wanted him to look like Jack. Jack wanted a baby girl to spoil absolutely rotten. Neither of them knew, but his wife was pregnant with twins, a boy and a girl. They only knew about the boy.
Jack is magic in the kitchen. He can cook just about anything, and will regularly try and replicate intricate and difficult dishes because they look cool. He is, however, entirely hopeless at baking.
Once, Jack got into a very heated argument about Frankenstein with Ginger. They were both tipsy and he’s incredibly passionate about Frankenstein, which resulted in an argument that was 90% him just going on and on about how Victor Frankenstein was the real monster.
Jack has questionable taste in movies. If he had his way, he’d watch The Man From Uncle every fucking day.
Jack and Ginger are actually pretty close. They act like annoying same age cousins who are super close and also don’t like each other but hang out at every family function because everyone else completely sucks and they only mildly suck.
Jack’s relationship with Tequila is rocky because of the generation gap, but he genuinely cares for the younger agent, and Tequila absolutely sees Jack as a super chill parental figure.
Jack’s entire family lives in Tennessee. His ranch is out there, but for work purposes, he also has an apartment in Kentucky, New York, and California. His favorite place to reside is the Tennessee ranch. It’s the one with the most roots for him and there’s a Tennessee Statesman office, so his commute isn’t horrible.
Aside from the ranch and the apartments, Jack technically has one more house. Located in the middle of goddamn nowhere Virginia, he owns land and a small farmhouse where he was going to retire and raise his kids.
Jack has a very odd skill. He’s able to fall asleep in the bathtub. He takes baths for his aching muscles (age isn’t kind to him) and more often than not, he’ll drift off or fully fall asleep.
Jack is the worst bed partner. He kicks and wiggles and talks in his sleep. Anyone who’s ever shared a bed with him has woken up with at least one bruise that Jack apologized for.
Jack would’ve been the very first agent to ever celebrate their 50th birthday with Statesman. Champ took over when he was 54, and most other agents die or retire before they reach 50. Jack was the closest before he got meat grinded. He was 45.
In true cowboy fashion, Jack can play a few instruments. The typical ones, like guitar, are expected, and he’s not half bad on the banjo. However, he can also play the fiddle. He can play the fiddle extremely well. He likes to play Cotton Eyed Joe and Timber relentlessly just to piss Ginger off.
Jack’s favorite pool activity is laying on a pool float and reading. Give him a sappy romance novel and a pair of sunglasses and he’s good for the afternoon. Just make sure to check on him every so often and remind him to put on some damn sunscreen, because he will forget.
As a ‘training exercise,’ Ginger made Jack play horror games while filming his reactions and counting his BPM. Somewhere in the Statesman archives exists a disc with Jack’s frantic screaming and violently swearing as he played Poppy Playtime. He fell off the couch trying to play the game, and made Ginger swear to burn the damn disc. In the background, you can absolutely hear Tequila and Ginger losing their shit. Tequila watches it when he misses Jack. It makes him happy.
Ezra:
Ezra straight up legally adopted Cee once the events of the film were over.
I have said this multiple times, but I can finally elaborate! Ezra’s an orphan, and he was orphaned at a young age, about six. So he became a ward of the state. They took his surname and gave him a number. He was and still is Ezra 4053. His living conditions were complete shit. He was constantly sick, usually abused by the caregivers, and never had a full meal until the day he turned 18 and became a prospector.
Ezra has two books that mean more to him than everything else he owns combined. One is an old book of poems, and the other is a journal he fills with his own poetry.
Ezra smells like cloves.
He doesn’t remember, but his mother used to have a big furry cat that was named Starlight. Starlight was Ezra’s best friend before she died of old age when he was five.
Ezra’s parents died in a vehicle accident. He was in the vehicle when it crashed. He was the only survivor.
Ezra’s more of an audiobook person, and he likes to listen to them while prospecting.
Post-amputation, Ezra gets horrible phantom limb pain. Cee found a solution. She’ll sit on his bed and describe, in very vivid detail, what she’s doing to his missing hand. Sometimes she holds it, sometimes she paints his nails, and once she braided a friendship bracelet onto it. It really helps remind Ezra there’s nothing there.
Ezra likes to have physical photos of events. His memory is horrible due to the Green, so he likes to have evidence that events happen. Cee helps him date the photos, and even puts little captions on them.
The blonde streak in Ezra’s hair is natural. It used to be super faded and hard to see, but became sharper and more prominent as he got older.
After the Green, Ezra needs to sleep with a machine that helps regulate his breathing because of all the damage he did to his lungs.
Ezra’s a side and belly sleeper, and he physically cannot fall asleep if he’s on his back.
Ezra is extremely claustrophobic.
Ezra likes to try new hobbies to see if any will stick. So far, he’s only had a few that have lasted. Those are flower pressing, embroidery, reading, and the most recent one is painting.
If Ezra were to have a dog, it would be a greyhound.
Ezra’s favorite color is yellow.
Surprisingly, Ezra hates coffee. He prefers tea, especially citrusy teas.
Ezra fears almost nothing. He isn’t scared of blood or pain or heights or anything else. The only thing he won’t do is bugs. If it has more than four legs, it’s a huge no and he might run away screaming. He may or may not have been a giant baby when a spider got into his pod once. Cee had to escort said spider outside because no matter how scared of them he is, Ezra doesn’t want to kill anything that didn’t try to kill him first.
Ezra runs warm. I’m talking this man is practically a walking furnace.
Ezra doesn’t know, but the thing that relaxes him most, especially on jobs, is some form of oral fixation. If he can, he’ll chew/suck on his fingers because that calms him the most. If he can’t, or if Cee catches him with half his index finger in his mouth, he gets to have a piece of hard candy or a rubbery toy on a necklace to chew or suck on.
Before he became a prospector, Ezra wanted to be a prosthetics mechanic. He thinks it’s ironic that that was his dream job and now here he is, in need of a prosthetic himself.
Ezra’s great grandmother was a luthier, and he grew up surrounded by her music and her skill. Everyone in his family used to joke that he inherited her steady hands because he used to show off his nearly flawless carving work. Now, after the loss of his family and one of his hands, he almost wants to pick up his great grandmother’s old job and retire to become a luthier like her.
Ezra has no idea how the hell bath bombs work but he loves them so goddamn much.
Ezra is an oversized sweaters kind of man. Cee ties his right sleeve into a knot so it doesn’t flop around and annoy him. Do they have matching holiday sweaters? Yes they do!
Bonus: Ezra is still mad they took Prospect off of Netflix. So is Dewey. Dewey is verymad.
Shane ‘Dio’ Morrissey:
Everyone expects Dio’s favorite movie to be some bloody horror show, but it isn’t. His favorite movie is the Addams Family Values. His favorite character is Morticia.
Dio is deathly allergic to peanuts.
For three Halloweens in a row, Dio was Beetlejuice. He dyed his hair green instead of buying a wig all three times.
Dio is the youngest of four kids. He was originally one of two boys, but his older brother came out as trans, so now he’s the only boy. The kids are, in order, Everly, Vivianne, Brynn, and then Dio.
Dio’s got a really sensitive stomach and some mild to moderate digestion issues.
He also needs glasses. Badly. But will he ever wear them? Absolutely not they ruin his vibe.
Dio has never owned a car and he has no driver’s license.
When Dio gets drunk, he’s a completely different person. He will not shut his mouth and is usually pretty happy. It’s the only time anyone outside of his family can ever see him smile genuinely.
Dio grew up on Percy Jackson, which progressed into a really big Greek Mythology obsession. He knows every popular myth and a fair amount of the obscure ones. His favorite myth is the myth of Hades and Persephone. (Duh)
Dio hasn’t seen a dentist in a decade. Why? Because they terrify him.
The first time he dyed his hair, it wasn’t black. It was electric blue and he wore that color for a while. He only started doing black after he’d exhausted every other color he wanted to try.
Dio still has a bunch of stuffed animals. He sleeps with one, a stuffed deer he named Doe.
Dio feeds all the stray cats that live around his apartment. He named them all and if he notices any of them are young or pregnant, he’ll do his best to catch them and take them somewhere safe.
Dio’s not close with his dad, but he is very close with his mom.
While he always paints his fingernails black, Dio likes to paint his toenails funky colors. No one’s ever gonna see, so why does it matter?
Dio’s very good with babies, which shocks a lot of people. But he grew up with three older sisters who all loved to play dolls and house and all that, and he didn’t hate it. He actually took a parenting class in high school, and all three of his sisters have a hilarious photo of Dio wearing a pregnancy belly.
Dio didn’t start the whole goth thing until he moved out. Before that, he was really full of life with his colorful hair and innocent smile. His mother suspects it’s because he isn’t around family anymore, because he always becomes that smiley kid again when he’s with his sisters.
Dio’s got three face piercings that aren’t in his ears. He has snake bites, and those rings are black. But he’s also got a silver tongue piercing.
He shaves his legs. It’s purely for comfort when he sleeps.
Dio used to have long hair, and he always tied it back with scrunchies he borrowed from his sisters.
Dio doesn’t drink enough water, but he does make up for it by chewing on ice all day long.
Whenever he walks around the city, he’ll listen to Green Day.
Dio watches Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune every night.
The only person who’s ever allowed to call Dio ‘Shane’ is his mother. His oldest sister tried once and he wrestled her for ten minutes straight.
Dio’s favorite color isn’t black. It’s actually navy.
Dio didn’t pick ‘Dio’ as his nickname. It was given to him by one of the people who joined his cult as a way to worship him as a god, and he just sort of embraced it until it became his name. Even so, he does still feel uncomfortable going around calling himself ‘God’ all the time. It’s one of the reasons he hasn’t changed his name legally.
Don’t ask why, but Dio is a master at ballroom dancing.
(Spicey Warning) Everyone assumes Dio’s a top and loves to dominate in bed. In actuality, Dio is 100% a bottom and a huge brat.
Dio’s dream job is nurse. Not a doctor. Nurse. Especially before moving out and living on his own, he desperately wanted to help people, but now, that plan is down the drain. He still hopes there’s a way for him to afford/get into a good school to make his way toward his dream though.
Dio’s favorite animal of all time is the sea turtle.
Javier Peña:
Javier has perfected the art of ‘only one bed.’ 90% of the time he’ll take the couch or something, but when it’s Steve, they’re close enough to share the bed without it feeling too awkward.
He doesn’t eat breakfast. Or lunch really. Dinner is also iffy. He eats when he can, it doesn’t matter if it’s a mealtime or not.
He’ll threaten your life if you take and/or touch his coffee. He drinks it at all hours of the day, and it’s his second worst habit.
Once, someone (Steve) tried to instate a rule that Javier couldn’t have coffee between noon and midnight because that much caffeine wasn’t healthy. He found a loophole within two days. That loophole was caffeinated tea.
On Sundays, Javier will sit in front of a tiny radio and listen to football scores from Texas. He did it once on a stakeout with Steve, who’s from California, and their respective teams were playing each other. That stakeout almost ended in a fistfight.
Javier would rather die than admit it, but he’s a cat person.
Because he grew up in rural Texas and then spent a whole decade (?) doing car chases in Colombia, Javier drives like a maniac. Speed limits? Who cares! He learned to drive on back roads and dirt paths where the speed limit was whatever your car could feasibly do, and his reckless driving was only reinforced during his time in Colombia! What I’m saying is, Steve will never get in another car with Javier unless Javi is the passenger. Ever.
Javier can ride horses like nobody’s business. He’s also pretty decent at rodeo, but was never good enough to compete.
Javier had five sisters. Three older and two younger.
Whenever anyone finds a baby while working, they call Javier. He has a natural affinity for babies. He holds them and sings in Spanish and generally keeps them calm until the professionals arrive.
Javier has no clue where the nickname ‘Javi’ came from. Was it his sisters? Was it his coworkers? Was it Steve? He doesn’t remember, and he really doesn’t care.
Javier was hospitalized four times during his time in Colombia.
He once jumped into a burning building to get trapped sex workers out.
Javier treats everyone equally. He’s courteous and forgiving right up until you’ve proven yourself a giant asshole. Until then, he’s got those precious southern manners and he ain’t afraid to use them.
Javier’s got a huge soft spot for younger, eager eyed agents. He still remembers when he was like that, and he’ll try to preserve that innocence as long as he can.
Every single time he plays, Javier wins Monopoly by a wide margin.
While he doesn’t want kids of his own, Javier loves being the fun uncle Javi.
Javier’s a cold pizza kind of person.
When Javier was little, he used to practice crochet and knitting with his sisters. Every blanket he keeps in his apartment in Columbia is handmade, and he crochets an ass ton of stuff for Steve’s baby.
Javier is technically deaf. Because of all the explosions and gunshots, Javier’s hearing is abysmal, and if he cared enough to see a doctor, he’d get told he should probably be using hearing aids.
When he was little, Javier had these thick as shit Coke bottle glasses that he despised with a passion. As soon as they became safe, he started to use contacts instead of glasses.
Javier likes to go to local farmer’s markets on the weekends. He really likes fresh produce.
Maxwell Lord:
Max still sleeps with a teddy bear. Deep down, he knows that it’s a sign of trauma because he had most of his comforts taken when he was too young, but he doesn’t care. The bear’s name is Jo.
Max loves the Fourth of July solely for the fireworks.
In the beginning, Max did his best to seem human to all of his clients and customers. He never wanted to be like the fake salesmen on TV.
Alistair was born of a one night stand, and the woman involved hates Max’s guts. He does his best to ignore her.
Max looks almost nothing like his dad, and everything like his mom.
In high school, Max was bullied for his features, specifically his nose. It took him a decade and a half to finally accept his image.
Max has a cat. She’s a fluffy, spoiled, and entirely gorgeous white cat named Duchess.
Max never really learned how to communicate or process his feelings. He’s prone to outbursts, and can often be described as childish due to his lack of grasp on his emotions.
On a happier note, Max’s favorite ice cream flavor is Neapolitan.
Max’s handwriting has two modes. It’s either beautifully legible cursive or unreadable chicken scratch, and there is no in between.
Max loves to garden. He specifically likes to weed. There’s just something oddly relaxing about pulling out the weeds to him.
Max likes to play single man card games. Solitaire is his jam.
As polished as Max may look on TV, he doesn’t look like that every day. In fact, usually when he’s home, he’s in pyjamas.
Max gets the worst bedheads.
He can’t really tell, but Max is a tiny bit red/green colorblind.
Max is a giant lightweight.
Max actually likes Hawaiian pizza.
Sleeping in the same bed as Max is damn near impossible. He sleeps like a cat, all sprawled out in positions that cannot possibly be comfortable.
Max’s spring allergies are the absolute worst. I’m talking constantly congested, sneezing six or seven times in a row, and red rimmed eyes nearly every day.
Social cues are Max’s worst goddamn enemy. He doesn’t understand them! He has to literally train himself to recognize social cues and how to respond to them so people don’t think he’s an idiot.
Pretty early on, Max had to learn how to alter his own clothes out of necessity. Now, he doesn’t even need to think about it when he has anything that doesn’t fit, he just plops down at his sewing machine and fixes it himself, no fuss no muss.
Max’s only phobia is the doctor and/or medical settings.
Someone get this poor man a decent sleep schedule. Max routinely stays up until well past midnight, even when he has to be at the office super early. He just can’t turn his brain off so he can’t sleep until he literally works himself into a state of pure exhaustion.
Max still sleeps with a nightlight.
Max has a huge collection of classic novels that he prides himself on owning. Technically though, he has two collections. One is on display in his office, and all those books are in English and they’re all fancy and beautiful. The other one is a less put together shelf that’s hidden in his home of the exact same books, only in Spanish. That collection is his ragtag, fifty cent, none of them match, some are literally falling apart, book collection. He used to use his pocket money to buy books, and that old shelf of Spanish classics is full of books he bought himself when he was a child learning English.
Max has to literally fight for time with his son. Alistair’s mother thinks he’s a horrible influence, so he has to fight her tooth and nail for more than a weekend every other week.
Max runs warm. He always has and he always will. He used to give the school nurse a fright because he’d come to school with what was technically very close to a fever, but no, that’s just his regular body temperature.
All my Christmases (Marcus Moreno x f!reader) Christmas #3
3: I’ve got my love to keep me warm.
Pairing: Marcus Moreno x f!reader
Summary: Twenty-five years, three Christmases, two people. It all ended with the one who was there first and never really left.
Word count:+6.6k
Warnings:slight mentions of death, mentions of injuries and fear, food, a tween being a tween, a little angst bc why not, everyone hates marcus moreno, smut, sex in a kitchen.
A/N:and now, for the last time, we jump to 2021, this is the last part of this little christmas fic i wrote on a daze, thanks to everyone who read this, merry christmas! happy holidays! the whole deal, i love u! ♥
You checked your wrist watch again while you stirred the small pot of fruit punch you had helped Anita put together; it was already late and Marcus hadn’t arrived yet.
“The clock is not going any faster if you stare at it, mi niña.” Anita muttered behind you, you turned to look at her with a resigned smile as she lifted the lid off the big pot you two had filled with tamales –some of turkey, some of chicken and some others of beans– for steaming and let the vapor get out.
“He’s late.” you replied, your mother in law walked to you and stood in front of you, one hand on her waist over the checkered apron she had on and the other stretched towards you.
“I know,” she said, you took her hand and she gripped it, “just like his papá.” she gave you a sympathetic smile and you let out in a sigh all the air of your lungs.
“How did you do it?” you asked, “I can’t get used to it.” you shrunk your nose, Anita’s smile widened and she dropped your hand, moving to take the ladle from your hand and stirring the fruit punch herself.
“I really don’t know,” she shrugged, “I had Marcus there, he took all my time,” you gave her a knowing smile, “you have Missy now, you’re not alone.”
All my Christmases (Marcus Moreno x f!reader) Christmas #2
2: I don’t feel like going home now.
Pairing: Marcus Moreno x f!reader
Summary: Twenty-five years, three Christmases, two people. It all ended with the one who was there first and never really left.
Word count:+9.5k(i know, i tried to cut things)
Warnings:mentions of insecurities, mentions of death, alcohol drinking, more winter, idk anything about ballet, smut, sex by a fireplace
A/N:and now we hop from 1996 to 2019, good luck us. Thanks a lot to the da gang, to @ezrasbirdie because THE SKIRT SCENE WAS HER IDEA!!! AND I LOVE IT and to @wordsnwhiskey for helping me through a couple breakdowns about this fic
The cold crept inside the car even when he had turned the heater all the way up; Marcus tried to remember the last time Washington had been that frozen up but the response to his self-asked question faded away from his mind like the vapor that came out of his mouth in winters like those when he saw two girls in pink tutus and pink overcoats cross the street holding each other’s hand.
He looked at his watch and then activated the comm that connected him to Missy’s bracelet.
“Is everything okay?” Marcus asked, looking through the co-pilot’s side window at the building his daughter was supposed to come out of, it was getting late and it was getting colder by the minute and he really didn’t need Missy to be sick right before the holidays.
“I’m coming!” the girl replied, Marcus heard a few voices and some kid-laughs coming through the small watch before Missy’s voice faded as well.
Marcus stretched his fingers over the steering wheel to warm them up and pondered turning on the radio and looking for that Christmas music station he used to listen to with Mariela whenever they rode through downtown hunting for presents.
A voice outside interrupted his thoughts and he saw Missy rush out of the building wrapped in her long coat and her purple scarf, battling the big bag she insisted on taking and stuffing full of different things she didn’t let him see; her brown curls flew with the winter wind and got in her face and she didn’t push them away, instead she rolled her eyes and opened the door of the car.
Marcus tried to hide his smile as the ten year old adult he had for a daughter jumped inside the car, pulled the door so it closed shut and grunted out under her breath.
“I won’t talk.” Marcus muttered, making sure Missy fastened the seatbelt before pulling away from the academy.
