#I wish I had a dad like marcus | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

morallyinept · 14 days

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Devoutness - Mature!Marcus Moreno x Mature 60+ F!Reader

Written as part of my B O D I E S Series 🤎

BODIES MASTERLIST

This story is part of my Heyday Hero universe. <- You might want to read that story first for context. But you can read this as a stand alone if you wish.

Summary: Marcus and you embrace the challenges of growing old together and enjoying intimacy.

Pairing: Mature!Marcus Moreno x Mature 60+ F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader in terms of ethnicity, Reader does have hair, however. Reader and Marcus are both in their mid-sixties, I've made Marcus 64 in this, and have real bodies with aging and Reader is on the curvier side.)

Word Count: 7.5k

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I'm doing well, and then, you try to kill me."

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Triggers & warnings: Reader & Marcus are much older and have real bodies reflective of their age/use of Viagra & sex aids/erectile dysfunction/unprotected PIV (wrap up folks!)/oral M receiving/mild dirty talk/Marcus has superpower hands ⚡️/lots of kissing/schmaltzy romance/Marcus doesn't fuck, he makes love.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: It's important to me that all types of readers are represented in my work, therefore this collection of stories is written for readers with REAL bodies. However, anyone can enjoy them. Whilst this story may not specifically represent your own personal journey, it is my hope that it resonates and offers comfort and enjoyment. This story is specifically about aging and growing old. If it upsets you to read about mature lovemaking, then I don't what to say - you'll be this age yourself one day... Everyone's journey is personal and unique, and I have undertaken as much research as I can to write accurately and respectfully. 🤎

MAIN MASTERLIST | MARCUS MORENO MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

“Are you ready, kiddo?” Marcus asks.

“No,” Missy gulps.

“You’re not nervous, are you?”

“Were you nervous?”

“Yes.”

“Both times?”

“Yes.” Marcus nods.

“Jeez.”

“Just breathe-”

“I am breathing. I-I think I’m breathing too much!” She squeaks.

He watches as Missy wrings at her hands that are visibly shaking. He’s never seen her so amped up and antsy before, and he decides instantly that he doesn’t like it.

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” Marcus places his own hands deftly on her shoulders and rubs his thumbs into the bones gently. “You’ve got this.”

"Dad, I'm so fucking nervous. What if I trip walking down the aisle?"

Marcus frowns with a soft smile. “I won’t let you and your potty mouth trip.”

“What if I forget my vows? Oh God, shit! I can’t remember them!”

"Hey now. Remember the time when you faced the Void Fiend head-on?”

“What does that have to do with-”

“You were brave, strong, and fearless. This? Walking down the aisle to marry the man you love? It's a breeze compared to that."

The Void Fiend was a creature of pure darkness, with tendrils of shadow that twisted and writhed like living smoke. Its eyes glowed with an otherworldly intensity, casting an eerie light that seemed to pierce through the very fabric of reality. And it had temporarily cast Missy into another dimension, until she battled her way out and ended the Void Fiend’s existence with her tenacity and strength. Something she’d inherited from her now retired, ex-Heroic father.

“I’m missing the Void Fiend right about now…”

“Tranquila, estás exagerando. Tú puedes hacerlo." (Calm down, you’re exaggerating. You’ve got this.)

“I don’t know how you did this twice.” She sighs as she paces, placing her hand over the boned satin corset covering her stomach. “God, I feel sick.”

“Well, I didn’t really have a choice.” Marcus says, timidly. He takes off his glasses, rubbing at his temple.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“I know.” He reassures, and it stops them both in their tracks like a blow to the gut.

A moment of silence passes between them, filled with unspoken thoughts. Missy’s eyes soften as she looks at her father.

“Look at this, you’ve always been useless at ties,” Missy smirks, fussing with the silk slate knot at her father’s throat.

“Fingers are too big for something so slippery,” he snorts, casually.

“That’s what she said.” Missy grins.

“Behave.” Marcus sighs, rolling his eyes.

“There,” she says, as she tweaks and neatens the tie into place. She pats down the soft lapels of his dark navy suit and steps back to look at him. “I love seeing you so happy.”

Marcus smiles. “I love being so happy. For a while I didn’t think I ever would be again...”

His thoughts immediately drift to you and it makes the blood in his veins sing. Each thought of you ignites a warmth within him, spreading from his chest and radiating outward, as if you're the very sun that has lit his internal world.

“Do you think Mom would be proud of me?”

His expression becomes tender, a deep sadness mingling with his love. “She would be more than proud. She’d be over the moon. You’ve become everything she ever hoped for and more.”

Tears well up in her eyes, and she takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “I wish she could be here today. And abuela…” (Grandma)

He nods, his own eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “They both are. They’re right in there.” He points to his daughter’s heart.

“Dad! I can’t cry, my mascara will run. Shit!” She fans her face quickly. “You promise you won’t let me fall on my face in these ridiculous heels?”

“They are pretty ridiculous.” Marcus smirks, clocking the sky high heels that his daughter totters around uncomfortably in. “But I take my job very seriously. You’ll remain fully upright. Until you say I do, then you’re Sam’s problem.” He chuckles.

Missy takes a deep breath after giggling, and gathers her bouquet. It’s a stunning arrangement of flowers, each one grown and hand picked from Marcus's cherished garden, adding a deeply personal touch to her special day. Full of sweet smelling blush peonies, white roses and anemones, wrapped with eucalyptus leaves.

“Okay. I can do this.” Missy says aloud.

He nods, his eyes filled with pride. "Of course you can. You've faced far greater challenges than this, and you've always come out on top. You’re a Moreno. Just remember to take it one step at a time so you don’t break your ankles-”

“Dad.”

“-and focus on the love in your heart. Everything else will fall into place." He simply shrugs.

“It really will, won’t it?” Missy concludes, looking at him and how intensely happy he is. It just radiates off of him like a solar flare bursting from the sun.

“Sam’s a lucky man.” Marcus says proudly.

She steps closer to her father, and they embrace, holding each other tightly. The bond between them, forged in love and shared loss, feels stronger than ever.

“Thank you for always being there for me. For being both a father and a mother when I needed it most. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Marcus wraps her in a warm embrace, his arms a safe haven amidst the whirlwind of emotions that try to rattle her.

"You'll always have me, muñeca. Now go out there and show that fiancé of yours just how beautiful you look." (Doll)

“You scrub up pretty well yourself, you silver fox.”

“Stop it.” Marcus blushes unabashedly whilst he straightens his cuffs as Missy wolf-whistles at him.

His suit jacket is impeccably cut, with sharp, clean lines that accentuate his frame. A neatly folded pocket square, matching the silvery tone of his tie, adorns his breast pocket, its presence a small but significant nod to tradition and style. His cufflinks, sleek and elegant, catch the light with a gentle gleam, completing the sophisticated look.

His suit, complete with waistcoat and a white rose boutonniere, compliments the mercury that’s over taken his once dark, cocoa hair and facial scruff, both now trimmed neatly and styled for the wedding.

His eyes, a deep, soulful brown, still hold a spark of the formidable spirit that once defined him, shrouded often behind his thick, black-rimmed spectacles, that are a trademark feature. They reflect both wisdom and a hint of the mischief that lingers from his younger days. The crow's feet at the corners of his eyes deepen as he smiles, adding to his rugged charm. His body, though no longer in its prime, remains strong and capable, despite his advancing years.

The suit he wears fits him perfectly, tailored to accommodate the changes that time has wrought. His shoulders, still broad and solid, hint at the strength that lies beneath the fine fabric. His waist, though a bit softer around the middle, speaks of a man who has remained active and engaged with the world around him, despite slowing down in his retirement.

His hands, once steady and unyielding in the face of danger, now show the signs of age with slightly knobbled knuckles and veins that stand out against his papery skin.

Sixty-four has never looked so good on Marcus Moreno.

But at this age he feels the weight of time in his bones and muscles, a constant reminder of the years that have passed. Mornings are sometimes the hardest. As he rises from bed with you, his joints protest with a familiar stiffness. His knees, especially, ache with a dull persistence, a result of decades of wear and tear from heroic escapades.

He moves more slowly now, careful with each step, aware that a wrong move could lead to a fall. Yet, despite these physical reminders of aging, he carries himself with a quiet dignity. Marcus has grown accustomed to the small rituals of maintenances that aging requires: daily medications, regular doctors visits, the strength of exercise and stretches to keep his body as agile as possible.

And he's aging gracefully with you right by his side, watching the season's change and embracing them with a smile and contentment. There's a certain peace in accepting the changes brought by age. Appreciating a slower pace.

Life has a different rhythm now, one that allows for gratitude and reflection. He cherishes the stillness of the early morning, sipping coffee with his arm around you and taking in the scents of his garden. More moments to stop and smell the flowers.

He has more time to appreciate the small things. He's not merely growing older; he's becoming more himself with each passing day.

“I mean it, your lovely wife will need to watch her back. Those bridesmaids of mine are feral.”

“Cripes.” Marcus shudders, already feeling himself sweat at the horrid thought. “Let’s make a deal. I’ll keep you upright if you keep those hormonal women away from me.”

Missy giggles. “I can’t promise anything, Dad. One of them has the power of influence. You might be cast under her spell.”

“Please tell me you’re joking.” He groans.

Missy simply taps her nose and grins. With a newfound sense of confidence, she takes a deep breath and grips onto her father’s arm as he offers it out to her.

Marcus smiles down at her from behind his polished spectacles and slicked back hair, and beams brightly.

“Come on, let’s get you married. You’re such a pain in my ass. Can’t wait to be rid of you.” He says.

“Nope. You’re stuck with me forever. That's the deal. You made me.”

“I should have worn a condom.” Marcus grins.

“You’re such an ass.” Missy snorts ungracefully, choking on her giggles.

Sitting in the front row of the aisle lined with garlands of fresh flowers, you stand and watch as Marcus emerges with Missy on his arm, in a modest ivory dress, to a solo violinist’s rendition of All Of Me.

You clock Marcus’s face and he seems completely entranced and proud as he walks Missy down the aisle to her future husband Sam, who’s waiting and wiping discreetly at his eyes.

You smile fondly at his reaction, remembering Marcus looking at you just like that on your wedding day to him. It was an intimate and heartfelt affair, celebrated in the same garden where he lovingly tended to the flowers, now featured in his daughter’s wedding bouquet. A place that you had grown to love just as much as him.

The setting was a testament to his life's quieter, nurturing side, a stark contrast to his years of heroic exploits, and you were only too inclined to agree at the lowkey subtlety. It was a place that was special to you both and you both spent a lot of time together basking in the Texan sun, as well as your love.

The retired superhero had stood at the heart-shaped trellis threaded with lilac roses and violet ranunculi - a nod to the purple heart emoji from your early days of flirting and getting to know one another on the dating app - his heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and excitement, and looking at you like you were the only thing that kept his word spinning on its axis.

Marcus has spent years, decades, alone after losing his first wife shortly after Missy was born. A woman who had been his partner in every sense of the word. Her passing had left a void that seemed impossible to fill, a grief that lingered in the corners of his heart and a guilt that overpowered him when he thought about moving on.

Throwing himself into work and saving the world on the regular, between bringing up a headstrong and smart younger version of him, consumed him. and it was only when retirement beckoned did he realise he didn't want to spend the remainder of his life alone.

So then there was you. You were different and brought a familiarity that felt like home. You'd connected over shared experiences, laughter, your mutual love of flowers and home cooked food, and a heightened passion that sizzled between you both.

Your laughter was like a soothing balm to his weary soul and your kindness, understanding, and your acceptance of his late wife and the love he would always have for her, slowly began to heal the wounds that time had only partially mended.

Your relationship had grown slowly, rooted in deep conversations, mutual respect and compassion. You'd walked Marcus's garden many times, traversing the flower beds, conversing about the different species and plant types. Cuddled up by the pool at golden sunsets, kissing deeply in the loungers, and sharing twilight dinners and wine.

It was in his garden, that you both realised you could love again. And it was where he had proposed to you too. He'd had your ring custom made, a floral stone shape, cut with stunning teal diamonds.

You’d walked towards him on that special day wearing blue - a colour that you both loved on you - radiant and beautiful, every step bringing you closer to your new life shared together. You remember the way Marcus had looked at you as you exchanged vows, his eyes filled with unwavering trust and devotion. Tears making them glisten under his spectacles.

The ceremony had been simple yet profound, promises made in front of a handful of those closest to you, both not seeking an extravagant affair or party into the wild hours. Instead a small gathering and a lovely home cooked meal, which you and Marcus had lovingly prepared together for your family, after you both promised to stand by each other through all of life's challenges.

And as Missy and Sam prepare to exchange similar vows now, Marcus joins you by your side on the pew, his hand slipping into yours where it belongs, and you hand him a tissue.

“Thanks,” he whispers, smiling crookedly and blushing as he dabs at his eyes under his specs once more. “I'm a mess.” He sniffs.

He feels a tear slip down his weathered cheek, not from sadness but from the deep, abiding joy of witnessing his daughter's happiness.

“She looks so beautiful.” You compliment, filled with adoration for her as if Missy were your own flesh and blood.

She’s become the closest thing to a daughter to you, your relationship with her deepened and special. Sharing girl-dates together on the regular, shopping and having lunch when she’s not saving the world. Teaming up and teasing Marcus to no end until you’re all in a fit of giggles.

You’re so proud of the young woman Marcus has raised.

“She does.” Marcus whispers.

He turns his head and your eyes find his, big and watery and filled deep with sincerity. “You look absolutely beautiful, mi dulzura.” (My sweetness)

You gently squeeze his hand, feeling warm and more loved than you ever thought possible, as he places a gentle and lingering kiss on top of your head.

The grand garden is alight with fairy lights underneath a gloaming sky.

The hazy orange glow that emits from the twinkles hovering delicately above this enchanted place leaves you with a sense of warm contentment, despite the gentle nip of the cool breeze as the evening wears on.

It’s an idyllic wonderland, draped in satin and ivy. Over the course of three days it had been transformed into an empyrean view fit for a king himself, and Marcus spared no expense in giving Missy everything she wanted for her big day.

A vast lawn covered with bunting and a large white gazebo in the grounds of the Edwardian Manor House. Tables lined with crystal glasses, enormous plumes of roses that matched her bouquet.

Marcus was never an extravagant man, always mindful of living a modest life, but he wanted to make this a day Missy and Sam would never forget. His generosity, and smart investment skills over the years, is another trait of his that you love so much.

The tinkling sounds of music flows through the crowd, like an invisible ribbon wrapping itself around all the guests that litter this decadent soiree. The threads of Heroic connections between them are visible, retired and current heroes in attendance; their radiance, euphoria and harmonies hum through your ears as Marcus twirls you around on the dancefloor.

The atmosphere is a blend of celebration and reverence. There's a sense of continuity, of old and new merging seamlessly. Marcus’s past as a Heroic adds an undercurrent of awe and admiration among the guests, but tonight, he’s celebrated for his role as a loving father and husband.

The world around you seems to fade, leaving just the two of you bathed in the soft, golden glow of the twinkling lights. The band is in the middle of a slow, melodic tune, the kind that speaks of timeless romance and unspoken promises.

Marcus takes your hand with a gentle, yet confident grip, his fingers intertwining with yours as if they were always meant to fit together. You feel the familiar, crackly buzzing from his fingertips, reverberating deep into your skin and down your arm, igniting you, and he winks at you knowingly.

He leads with a grace that hints at his once superhuman agility, his steps sure and deliberate. As you waltz across the floor, your eyes lock, a silent exchange that speaks volumes. Your eyes sparkle with a mixture of joy and affection, while his reflects a depth of gratitude and love that words can never fully capture.

You both share a secret smile, the kind that only two people deeply in love can understand, and it feels as if you’re the only ones in the world.

A palpable chemistry fizzes between you, helped by the static in his fingers that he teases you with, a testament to the deep bond and joy you bring each other. The music swells, a building crescendo, his hand gently guiding yours. At one point, he twirls you gently, your dress fanning out fully, and as you return to his embrace, you both chuckle, your foreheads touching for a brief, tender moment.

There's a playfulness in your dance, a sense of rediscovered youth, as if the years between you have melted away, leaving only the pure essence of your connection.

“Have you always been this smooth a dancer?” You query as he sways with you.

“I might know how to cut a rug.” Marcus smirks.

“I’m still discovering all these wonderful secret talents about you, Mr Moreno.”

“Well, I like to keep you on your toes, Mrs Moreno.” He smirks with rosy cheeks.

As the song progresses, you pull each other closer, moving as one entity, lost in each other’s eyes. His hand rests on the small of your back, guiding you effortlessly, while your hand caresses his broad shoulder.

"You make me feel young again," he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You make me feel safe," you reply with a smile. He loves the way your eyes crinkle when you do. “And so loved.”

“That’s because you are, mi dulzura.” He presses a kiss to your temple. (My sweetness)

"Look at her," you say softly, glancing toward Missy, who is radiant in her wedding dress, and laughing with others at a table. "She's so happy."

His eyes follow yours, and he nods, a proud smile spreading across his face.

"She deserves all the happiness in the world. She's incredible, just like her mother was..." He trails off and his eyes become a little deeper.

"She's incredible, just like her father is," you add gently, squeezing his shoulder.

He chuckles, shaking his head. "I don't know about that. I always tried my best. But I'm so proud of her. She's taken on so much, and she handles it all with such grace."

"She has a great role model," your voice is filled with warmth and admiration."You should dance with her," you suggest with soft encouragement.

Marcus hesitates for a moment, glancing at his daughter, who is laughing joyously with her new husband and their friends.

"Do you think she'd want that? It's her big day."

"Of course she would," you reply, your fingers brushing his cheek tenderly. "She loves you so much. This is a special moment for both of you."

He looks into your eyes, seeing the sincerity and love reflected there. "You're right," he says, his voice a little shaky with emotion. "I just... I don't want to intrude."

"You could never intrude. Go to her," you urge with a warm smile. "I'll be right here, cheering you both on."

Marcus takes a deep breath, then leans in to kiss you gently. "Thank you. For everything. You’re incredible."

"You're pretty incredible yourself." You smile back, your eyes shining. "Go on. Make this moment unforgettable."

He releases your hand reluctantly and makes his way across the dancefloor, each step filled with a mix of pride and nervous anticipation.

As Marcus approaches his daughter, she looks up, her eyes lighting up when she sees him.

"Dad," Missy says, her voice filling with delight. "Come dance with me!"

He nods, his heart swelling. "I'd be honoured."

The band begins to play another soft, melodic tune that echoes through the sumptuous garden.

“You took your shoes off,” Marcus chuckles, noticing her bare toes peeking out under the satin hem of her dress.

“I did. Let us never speak of those evil things again.”

“You know, I used to dance with you when you were little.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. You’d stand on my feet and let me move you about. You said you were no good at dancing and would pout. It was so cute.”

“And I stand by that fact.” Missy announces.

“Nonsense.” He smiles.

“And I’m always cute, for the record.” She grins. “Can I stand on your feet now?”

“Go for it.” He smiles.

She steps onto his polished shoes and he holds her close in his arms as he moves, his chin resting on her head and smiles.

"You look so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks, Dad," she replies, her eyes misting. "I'm so glad you're here with me. I know Mom would be," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the music.

"I am too," he replies, his grip on her tightening slightly. "I see so much of her in you. She would be so proud of the woman you've become."

She nods, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I hope so."

“I know so, muñeca.” (Doll)

“But you’ve got a wonderful woman who loves you just as much. Maybe even more.” Missy says to him.

“I do,” he smiles over at you and you beam. You’re recording them dancing together on your phone, something for him to keep forever.

“I’m still pissed that you found your one on a dating app you didn’t want to join for so long…” Missy snorts.

“And after only one date too. What is it the kids say now, I’m winning at life?” He chuckles.

“Yeah. You are. You smug bastard.”

“Easy now,” Marcus remarks with a thick smirk.

As the song draws to a close, Marcus pulls her into a warm embrace, holding her tightly. "I love you. Always."

"I love you too, Dad," she whispers back, her voice full of emotion.

They part with a final smile, and he steps back to let her return to her husband. As he makes his way back to you, you’re waiting for him with open arms.

"How was it?" You ask, pulling him into a hug.

“Perfect. Thank you for encouraging me.” Marcus beams.

"Anytime," you say, kissing him softly.

“Come on, dance with me some more, Mrs Moreno.” He says, pulling you gently towards the dancefloor again.

Later that evening, after calling it quits on the late night as it shows no sign of dying down, you and Marcus ascend the grand staircase in the Manor House, a structure with an old-world charm blended with modern comforts.

The lobby is adorned with elegant chandeliers and plush seating, exuding a sense of timeless sophistication. Still glowing from the day's festivities, you make your way to your suite, hand in hand and talking softly with smiles and giggly laughter.

As you open the door to your room, you’re greeted by an inviting, romantic ambiance. The room is spacious yet cosy, with a large queen four poster, draped in crisp white linens and silky drapes. A pair of plush armchairs sit by the window, offering a breathtaking view of the city lights twinkling in the night.

A bottle of champagne chills in a silver bucket, accompanied by two flutes and a tray of gourmet chocolates.

You look around in awe, taking in the thoughtful details. "This is perfect," you murmur, your voice filled with contentment.

“Should be, we’ve paid for it,” Marcus chuckles, loosening his tie.

You smile, stepping further into the room and slipping off your heels. "It's beautiful. Just like tonight."

You move to the window, admiring the view over Austin in the distance for a moment, before you feel him wrapping his arms around you from behind, pulling you in close. You lean into his embrace, feeling the warmth and strength that has always been so comforting.

Despite the buzz of the day, your bodies remind you both of the years you've lived. His back aches slightly from standing and dancing for so long, a dull reminder of his age and the years of unrelenting vigour from his past Heroic life. Your feet are sore, throbbing from your heels, and you feel a familiar stiffness in your joints.

“This night couldn’t be any more perfect,” you sigh dreamily, enjoying the way Marcus is planting delicate kisses against your neck and murmuring in agreement.

“I may have had a thought on topping it.”

“Oh really? Do tell, Mr Moreno…” You prompt, smiling.

He turns you to face him and kisses you deeply, humming in satisfaction as his tongue massages against yours. Gentle and explorative, and leaves you utterly wanting.

“Thought that I would make love to my beautiful wife.” Marcus kisses over your knuckles one by one, planting a longer kiss over your wedding band.

“I’ve been thinking about that all night.”

“You have?” He smiles.

“Mm-hm, it’s the suit.” You smile, running your hands down his lapels. “You look so handsome and sexy.”

He blushes and it’s still the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, watching his prominent tan nose and the tips of his ears turn a little pink.

“You want to?” He asks and you nod. “Good, I came prepared.”

“I would expect no less from Mr Organised.”

Grinning, he then steps away from you and rummages in the overnight bag that has already been brought up to the room by the concierge.

You watch as he pulls out a small box and pops a little blue pill into his palm. He winks at you from behind his specs as he swallows it, and you reach for him. Your lips reconnect as you kiss him deep.

The warmth of his lips running against yours, the familiar scent of him, and the deep, unwavering love in his eyes, combine to create a sensation that’s almost overwhelming and makes you dizzy with desire.

Your knees feel slightly weak, and you cling to him a little tighter, grounding yourself in his steady embrace. The giddy sensation is both disorienting and beautiful, a physical manifestation of the profound connection you share and the intensity of the moment.

When you finally part, he leads you to the small table where the champagne awaits. He pops the cork with a practised ease, pouring you each a glass.

"To how incredibly beautiful you look," Marcus toasts, raising his flute.

You smile, feeling your own face heat, clinking your glass against his.

You sip the champagne, savouring the bubbles and the moment. But he can’t resist much longer, waiting for the pill to work its magic, and neither can you as he pulls you into his arms once more.

The skin of his hands is marked by age spots and the veins more prominent, but his touch is as tender as ever. You feel the pleasant buzz from them sinking into your skin and travelling through your nerves. It makes you shudder, your nipples rousing awake as he glides his fingers down your arms.

"I can't believe how lucky I am," Marcus whispers, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back where your dress reveals a slink of skin. It's softer there now, a bit looser, but still so familiar and comforting.

"We both are." You agree.

You both murmur and hum into more shared kisses, each one lasting a little longer and conveying your longing for one another.

“Mmm, that’s nice,” you say as he nibbles gently on your lip and then licks over it.

“Really nice.” Marcus says, pulling you in closer.

You giggle after a few moments. “My lipstick is all over you,” you smile, wiping his lips with your fingers.

“I don’t care,” he smirks. “You can cover me in it, as long as I get more kisses.”

You giggle more as he rubs his lips against yours deliberately.

“Does it suit me, is it my colour?” He asks, grinning.

“Yes, velvet pink is your colour, Marcus.” You titter.

“Well, blue is certainly yours, this dress is just so… stunning. I like how it just-” He loses the words as his eyes roam all over you. “I like how it just kind of shows all of you.”

“Yeah?” The dress is flattering, hugging your curves in all the right places and just revealing the subtlest amount of flesh, mostly down your back.

“Yeah… God, I want to peel you out of it so slowly. I want to enjoy the view.”

He kisses across your collarbone as you unbutton his waistcoat.

“I’m just gonna take my jacket off, set it over there…” he tosses it across the room and it misses the chair as he locks onto your lips. “You look so good in blue.” Marcus compliments. “Almost don’t want to take it off.”

“Then you won’t see what I’ve got on underneath it,” you tease.

He makes a noise similar to a hungry bear, and you giggle as you reach for the zip under your arm and pull it down.

“Fuck…” he sighs as you slip the dress off to reveal a matching lace set in midnight blue. “So gorgeous,” he smiles, pulling you in for another deep kiss.

“You like it?”

“I love it…” He says, as his fingers trace the strap down from your shoulder, over the delicate cup, and he squeezes gently around your breast. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You both chuckle as he walks you backwards towards the bed as you push his waistcoat off. You pull on his tie, bringing him closer so you can taste his lips again.

Sinking into its plush comfort, Marcus climbs over you. The soft lighting casts a warm glow, creating an intimate, serene atmosphere. He kicks off his shoes as you loop his tie out from under the collar and toss it to the floor.

“See what kissing you does to me,” you whisper, guiding his hand down between your legs, and he groans when feels how warm and damp it is there.

“Quiero que te sientas muy bien…” (I want to make you feel really good) He whispers back.

“You always make me feel so good, Marcus.” You assure.

He smiles crookedly as you reach for his crotch.

“How you doing, big guy?” You say, stroking over the soft bulge in his slacks, and he sighs into your mouth.

“Almost,” he pants. “Keep doing that… feels really good.” His cock although still a little flaccid, is swelling. But the Viagra needs a little helping hand to get him there.

“Do you want my mouth?”

“Oh God, yeah.” He groans and you’ve never seen a man unzip his pants so fast.

He watches you pull out a small bottle of lube from the overnight bag. You squirt a little of it into your hands, rub them together and then slide them around his cock. He immediately groans out as you do so.

“That feel good?” You whisper, nipping on his lobe.

“Mmm… so good.”

A swollen, pale pink tip, and grey, wiry hairs that are trimmed almost to sparsity around his thick, heavy balls, greet you as you stroke and pump. Marcus has always harboured a generous sized manhood between his thighs, and aging certainly hasn't denied him of that as the throbbing length of him feels so good in your hands.

You grip a little tighter, making him work as he pushes his hips into your fist, almost like he’s fucking it.

“Oh wow!” He grunts.

You kiss over his belly, down into his thighs and then take him in your mouth, cock swollen and hardening fully around your tongue as you suck on him. He tastes good, he’s always tasted so damn good.

He repeatedly gathers your hair up, stylishly streaked with it's own grey, but it falls out of his grip, continually obscuring his view. He swipes it into a ragged, messy pony between his fingers in time to see you let your saliva dangle from your mouth and drip onto his head.

“Fuck…” he whines, as you sink his cock back into your mouth. It’s rock solid now, throbbing against your tongue. “God, I fucking want you…” He grunts with those delicious expletives tumbling out of him in that way when he gets all worked up.

“Want you inside me, Marcus.” You moan into his mouth.

He pulls down the cup of your bra and sucks your nipple into his mouth, and you both groan out in delight.

“How do you want me?” He asks, removing his shirt fully.

“Lay with me, beside me so I can kiss you.” You pant, unclipping your bra and removing your panties.

Once you’re both fully naked, he shuffles up behind you, taking your leg and folding it over his arm. He kisses you, tongue slipping into your mouth as you reach down and guide his thickness against your folds.

"Wait, do you-"

“I don’t need any lube, you’ve got me so wet, Marcus…” You pant as you swipe him against you, up and down, covering him in your slick.

You hear him growl in your ear as he pushes in, slipping through into you with ease.

“Just slides right in.” He agrees. “Fuck! You feel so good. So wet for me.”

The lewd sounds of his cock coated in your slick provides the background noise to your mutual pants and whines as he pushes in and out.

“Damn, this is such a beautiful pussy. Oh God.”

“Yours.”

“Mine.” He pants.

He kisses your knee, your cheek, your breast, your mouth - all within easy reach as his hips push back and forth, his cock sinking deeper into you with each gentle thrust.

“Oh, you feel so good,” he whines.

“Mmm, Marcus.”

“You can feel me, hmm? Right here?” He places his large palm flat on your lower abdomen and presses down a little and you groan.

“Right there!” You sigh, smiling.

You gasp as his fingers slip down onto your clit, circling around and around as he kisses you again. You feel that delicious buzzing on it from his fingers and you shudder and grin into him.

“I love that so much.”

“I know you do,” he smirks. You whine when he does it again. Little flares of electricity pulsing through you.

He’s pressed flush against you, balls deep into your cunt, and rubbing your clit. Gentle, rhythmic strokes and you kiss around his lips and neatly trimmed beard. He nuzzles his nose across yours, smiling deeply into you.

“Marcus… feels so good. Don’t stop…” You pant. He can feel you squeezing already; your breath more ragged as it pelts him in the face.

“Come for me,” he coos, as you grip onto his wrist; your thighs shaking as your clit pulls tighter under his buzzy ministrations. “Look at you, so beautiful. Come for me.”

He delves deeper, pushing that thick cock as far as it’ll go in this position - his crackly fingers gliding across your clit faster as you mewl and whine. You buck and push back, your body shaking and tensing. Your gasps reach higher pitches as you feel it rising within you.

“So beautiful when you come for me. Tan hermoso... Quiero sentirlo. Quiero sentirte venir para mí. Ven toda sobre mí…” (So beautiful... I want to feel it. I want to feel you come for me. Come completely over me.)

And that does it; the hushed whispers of the Spanish dirty talk flooding warm in your ear ignites the spark that crackles down your spine and floods in your core.

“Así es, joder, te sientes tan bien alrededor de mi verga.” (That's right, shit, you feel so good around my cock)

“Oh fuck, Marcus, the way you speak like that-”

“I know, why do you think I do it?” He grins into your cheek, his tongue licking against it. “Porque sé que te gusta y te pone tan húmeda para mí. No puedes evitarlo, ¿verdad?, cuando hablo tan sucio así, ¿hmm?” (Because I know you like it and it makes you so wet for me. You can't help it, right, when I talk dirty like that, hmm?)

You nod, smiling and heated. “Sí, sí, sí…” (Yes, yes, yes)

He continues to slide in and out of your pussy, making you groan with each measured thrust.

“Let me ride you,” you say, sucking on his bottom lip.

“You won’t get no protest from me,” he grins.

You straddle him, feeling him fill you full of him again as you sink down, all the way down on him.

“Oh God,” he whines. “Thats it, that’s it… fuck. Fuck yes!”

“Marcus!”

“Feel good like that? Taking my cock so deep, mi dulzura… Oh shit!” He pants as you ride him harder. “That’s it, take it, take it, take it… It’s all yours. I’m all yours.” (My sweetness)

He likes watching you as you ride him, moving that bit faster, winding your hips more intensely as you draw closer to your peak. He likes to kiss you and suck your nipples as you work.

You watch him lick his thumb and press it against your clit, nodding and smiling at you to come for him, almost begging he wants it so bad - wants you so bad. You cry out as those crackles flood your core, making you clench and writhe.

He’s floored, watching as you glow riding on his cock like this. Unable to form words, you’re so beautiful. The fact he can still make you feel like this, even when his body can’t or won’t cooperate, stuns him.

“F-Fuck…” Marcus can only stammer on a barely there whisper as you lean in to kiss him some more, feeling your pussy contract and rib around him as you come undone.

You collapse gently on top of him, and he wraps his hands around your waist.

More often than not, he can't finish, especially with the Viagra. Just keeping him stiff and for your pleasure, which he’s more than happy with and to indulge in. “Just want to feel you come, mi dulzura.” (My sweetness)

Every time you come around him, he feels it, sees the joy and bliss in your eyes, hears the mewls and pants into the pillow, dusted over his lips. He’ll give you this, all of him as long as he can. As long as he’s able.

The mind is willing, but sometimes… sometimes the body can’t quite keep up anymore.

You’d both talked about it the first time it happened. The first time he lost his erection and couldn’t finish. He was so embarrassed, on the verge of tears and feeling like he'd let you down. But your reassurances and love, peppered with longing kisses, convinced him it was nothing to worry about. So he didn’t.

And he did the same for you, when you struggled to get wet sometimes. It wasn’t that he didn’t turn you on, because he sure as hell did. He still does every time you look at him - he takes your breath away.

But sometimes your body doesn’t want to play ball too, and you’ve both discovered ways to still enjoy sex together with some helpful aids such as toys, lubricant, some blue pills, but most of all, patience.

Switching up positions when you both tire easily and your joints won’t meld you into adventurous positions anymore. Spending time kissing and fawning over one another. Just being in his arms is more than enough.

You both enjoy pulling pleasure out of one another with no hurried pace or shame about how your bodies have changed, and continue to change. Your breasts have stretch marks and hang lower now, the skin under your arms flaps about a bit more - your own tummy is crinkled with wrinkly skin. And yet he always makes you feel beautiful when you’re naked in his arms.

His cock struggles to get hard without assistance now, his balls hang lower and the skin around his own waist and back is looser too. But you still desire him, you still love every single inch of him.

You’re growing old together; something that both of you are lucky to experience and embrace wholly, together.

Marcus whimpers, ragged little cries escaping his throat as you come around him. Your pussy is tightening and feeling so good that he can barely contain himself. And he’s so beautiful to you now just as he was when you first met him in that restaurant on your first date together.

He still has that golden tanned skin from tending to his garden lovingly in the hot sun. Painted with some paler lines across his stomach and pubic bone where the sun doesn’t reach. The little sag of his belly from gaining a bit of weight now that he's not working out every day. A head of silver hair, almost snowy white entirely, replaces his dark curls. Liver spots and wrinkles appear in places they weren’t before.

Now in his mid-sixties, Marcus carries the weight of his years with a distinguished grace that speaks of a life well-lived and battles hard-fought.

Despite his enduring strength, age has brought with it a touch of forgetfulness too. He might occasionally misplace his glasses, only to find them perched atop his head after a thorough search. His keys sometimes elude him, turning up in the most unexpected places, like the refrigerator shelf or the bathroom sink.

These small lapses are met with laughter and gentle teasing from you, and you always help him find his missing items with a patient smile. One morning recently at breakfast, he hesitated, trying to remember if he’d taken his morning vitamins. But you, ever attentive, nudged the pill bottle toward him with a knowing smile.

"You didn't take them yet," you said, your voice filled with affection.

"Thanks," he replied, a bit sheepishly. "What would I do without you?"

"You'd manage," you’d teased, "but it wouldn't be nearly as much fun."

These moments, far from diminishing him, add to his character, painting a picture of a man who has lived fully and continues to do so with grace and humility. His forgetfulness becomes a part of your shared experiences, something that brings you closer and provides moments of light-hearted humour and tender connection.

“Oh fuck, you look good on top like this, so good on top… like that, that’s it. Oh God, use me. Keep doing that…” He’s drawn back to you, to this moment where you garner some more strength to keep going.

“Marcus!” You cry as you grind a little harder.

“I just wanna hold you right here…” He pulls your forward and keeps you in place, crushed against his chest as he thrusts up into you. “God, you’re so hot, I can’t get enough of you!” He pants.

“Oh fuck, Marcus! I’m gonna come again!”

“Yes, come, come, come, come…” He chants in your ear.

You wriggle and squirm in the throes of your pleasure. He grips onto you tighter and pushes himself deeper into you.

“Marcus!” You call out, your eyes rolling back.

Gripping onto his shoulders, he almost roars as you come again, body tensing and sweat pouring off of him. You can hear him wheezing in the back of his throat as you shake and tense above him.

Then, a small whimper rolls off his tongue as he strokes your back, hearts thudding against one another.

He taps over his heart. “Oh shit, it’s beating like crazy.”

“You okay?”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine.” He chuckles breathlessly.

“Don’t wanna give you a heart attack.” You smirk.

“No, no, no. I’m good, really good. Although, it'd be a good way to go.”

“I don’t know CPR.” You muse.

“I know the hymen-lick manoeuvre.” He waits for a second, before you burst out laughing.

“That was terrible!” You cackle at his stupid joke.

“You laughed, it counts.”

You hear him giggle, and then you giggle too as he looks at you with deep, brown eyes.

“Not bad for an old guy, hmm?” Marcus smiles, nuzzling into you.

“Not bad at all.” You agree, planting your lips on his.

“I love you. Te quiero.” (I love you)

“Te quiero mucho.” You reply, kissing the tip of his nose. (I love you so much)

You lay there together for a while, cuddled up to him and savouring the tender, peacefulness between you.

“You wanna go again? I’m still hard. Will stay like that for a few hours…” Marcus grins.

You snort, laughing into his lips. “Are you trying to finish me off?”

He nods. “I’m banking on the life insurance policy. This wedding has cost me a fortune. I need to top up.”

“You’ll be lucky. Christ, I can only imagine what it would say on my death certificate.”

“Fucked to death.” He chuckles, pulling you against his chest, and you can’t help but laugh with him.

"You silly man." You smirk, planting a kiss into his neck.

The following morning, you both spend time together in the elegant bathtub, washing and caressing one another in the fragrant soapy bubbles.

You lay in his lap as he strokes you gently to a soft orgasm with wet fingers, and tells you how much he loves you. You take your time with him, stroking his cock in your foamy hand until he eventually bursts, spilling warm and pearly over your grip, shaking and panting into your mouth.

You smile, watching Marcus pull on a soft sweater, and then you both laugh as he realises, whilst putting his suit in the suit bag, that he’s put it on backwards.

Once dressed and packed, you both head down for breakfast in the Manor House’s elegant dining room. The room is bathed in warm morning light, with large windows offering a stunning view of the lush gardens outside.

The table is set with fine china and an array of delicious breakfast options, from fresh fruit and pastries, to a variety of hot dishes on offer and cooked to order.

Marcus pours out fresh coffee and you pick Marcus a fruit bowl whilst you wait for Missy and Sam to join you both as previously arranged.

You feed pieces of melon into Marcus’s mouth. He eyes you suggestively as he sucks your fingers free of the syrup.

“Mmm,” he murmurs with a wink behind his dark-rimmed specs as he leans in to plant a sugary-sweet smooch on your lips.

"You two are worse than teenagers," Missy teases, a playful glint in her eyes. "How do you still act like this in your sixties?"

Marcus grins and squeezes your hand. "Love only gets better with age, muñeca." (Doll)

You smile softly, leaning into his shoulder. "We've had plenty of practice," you add, your eyes twinkling. "Besides, we're just setting a good example for you two."

Sam raises his coffee cup in a toast. "Well, if we end up half as in love as you two when we're your age, we'll consider ourselves very lucky."

Missy smiles warmly, looking at you both with a mixture of admiration and amusement. "Alright, alright, I get it. Love doesn’t have an expiration date. But still, maybe keep the lewd PDA to a minimum while we eat?"

Marcus laughs, his eyes glimmering with joy and pats your thigh affectionately. "No promises, but we'll try to behave.” He looks at you, with a cheeky glint in his eye. “For now..."

I really hope you enjoyed reading this story with Marcus, and welcome your comments/thoughts. I'd appreciate a re-blog if you liked it so others can find it on their dash to read and enjoy too - thank you very much! 🖤

BODIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

MARCUS MORENO MASTERLIST

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #pedro pascal characters #marcus moreno x you #marcus moreno x f!reader #mature!marcus moreno #marcus moreno we can be heroes #marcus moreno smut #marcus moreno fluff #bodies series #every body is beautiful #diversity #inclusion #jett's writing

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sleepyfireball · 21 days

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I loved Season 3 of Bridgerton so much

I loved Colin and Penelope's romance, how it was evident she was still in love with him and yet was trying to be practical. Not to mention the fact that he was down bad after one (1) kiss, like she got him good with that one! Also, love the fact that Colin was trying to get Penelope to not be herself and yet it was by being herself that she attracted Debling (decent guy through and through, low key thinking him and Cressida might be a good match) and Colin's jealousy was phenomenal, just the yearning, amazing. And of course, the carriage scene, damn did it deliver or what.

I loved seeing Francesca in a more prominent role and I'm so pleased with Hannah's portrayal. I was a little worried that it wouldn't feel like Francesca but she just nailed it. Francesca and John were so cute together, just sitting there silently confusing the hell out of the Bridgertons.

I enjoyed Violet immensely this season. I'm so glad that the writers are showing how she has learned from previous seasons, especially with Eloise and her role in society. I think Violet isn't entirely sure how best to help Francesca because she is quite different from Violet herself and from her own sisters, but it was evident from the scene of Francesca playing the sheet music that John got her that Violet recognises how happy he makes Francesca. Violet also clued on about Colin's predicament very quickly, thank goodness otherwise we would have needed another 5 years for Colin to work up the courage to tell Penelope his feelings. Ruth Gemmell really shone in her scenes where she was advising any of her children, but particularly with Colin, amazing, no notes.

I adored the scenes between Marcus Anderson and Violet. They had a really palpable chemistry, but they aren't going to fast with it, which I appreciate, and I'm really looking forward to seeing how their story continues to develop into Part 2. Ruth Gemmell really made it feel realistic with the small hope of more while still primarily focusing on her children and not getting carried away too quickly.

Queen Charlotte was phenomenal this season alongside Lady Danbury. They've really played into the friendship that was established in QC: ABS which was a wonderful call because these two actors are amazing together. I only wished we had gotten more Lady Danbury and Penelope scenes, to establish that relationship, but perhaps it will come in Part 2.

Marcus Anderson is an enigma, especially with whatever happened between him and Lady Danbury, I really hope he is as good a guy as he comes across as, because him and Violet have really got something cute going on. Also, Lady Danbury can either keep her mouth shut about it, or be confronted by Violet about loving her dad. Lady Danbury really doesn't have a leg to stand on here.

Eloise, this season, made perfect sense to me. She is finally starting to embrace a little of what the Season can offer and I wasn't expecting to like her and Cressida's friendship at all, but it does seem to have helped Eloise a little, especially after her falling out with Penelope. I'm pleased they didn't go for the outright villain route of her revealing Whistledown even accidentally. I think by the end of the season Eloise and Penelope will hopefully be friends again, or at least something nearing it, because while Cressida has helped Eloise, it is clear the Eloise's morals feel a bit torn about this due to Cressida's actions, particularly towards Penelope.

It was interesting to see more of Cressida this season and some of the pressure she finds herself under due to her family. I also appreciate that the writers are like we'll explain why she does it, but it doesn't excuse her actions.

I think the Featheringtons continue to be comedic relief, which is highly entertaining. The Featheringtons may not be my favourite family and their treatment of Penelope is reproachable but when it is just Portia, Prudence and Phillipa, the entertainment is amazing. Polly Walker, particularly, did amazingly in her scenes.

I'm not sure how to feel about Benedict and Lady Tilley Arnold, it felt a little unnecessary for Benedict to fall into bed with another person and Lady Tilley certainly seems to be questionable in some way, especially with her lawyer.

I liked seeing the Mondrich's, even if it felt like their story was a little unnecessary. Like we've had stories about trying to fit in society, I feel like the writers could have used the time to explore the other stories they had, but I didn't dislike their scenes.

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pilot-boi · 18 days

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What are everyone’s favourite cereals in RRAYENNBOW? And you can include Qrow and mercury if you want to

And I SHALL include them

Ruby: Special K. She doesn’t actually have that much of a sweet tooth, and she’s gotta stay fit. Plus it has strawberries and turns the milk pink

Weiss: Doesn’t really eat cereal (coffee or death) but if she has to choose, probably Chex. She just thinks they’re neat

Blake: Gonna go with Honey Bunches of Oats. First of all, bees. Second of all, they remind her of the good times on the road with granola bars and what not

Yang: Kix. I know she’s the punch girl, but come on. Tell me she wouldn’t love Kix. Wish I had more to say about this one, but I just feel it in my bones

Jaune: Used to be Pumpkin Pete’s, but then ya know. Also he never really liked it that much, he just wanted the hoodie really badly. So i don’t know why but i really see him liking Cinnamon Toast Crunch

Pyrrha: Life (jkjk) Health nut that she is, it’s not one of the super sugary ones. But it’s also not like… bran flakes. Unironically think she’d really love Honey Nut Cheerios

Nora: Fucking Sugar Blast Supremes or something, let’s be real. She hoards the cereals from Halloween time, Count Chocula, and Boo Berry, and Frankenberry. Just the most synthetic shit you’ve ever seen

Ren: Raisin Bran. Because he’s a monster. He actually really likes it, but he hates the texture of the raisins in the milk, so he painstakingly removes every raisin, eats all the cereal, and then eats all the raisins

Oscar: He didn’t get a lot of cereal brands out on the farm, lots of morning oatmeal and eggs and whatnot. But once he made it to the big city, he absolutely fell in love with Froot Loops. And yes, he gets teased relentlessly for liking the most kiddy cereal ever

Emerald: Think she’d really like Apple Cinnamon Cheerios. Or just normal Cheerios. In milk, or just plain, she loves those things. They were cheap to buy (or steal) so they were one of the few cereals she actually had

Mercury: Reese’s Puffs. With his dad, it was only healthy food, or nothing at all. But he’d see the commercials on TV. So after killing Marcus, I kid you not, Mercury ate nothing but Reese’s Puffs for like a week. And then he was sick. But it was worth it. And yes, he knows the entire rap

Qrow: Again, like Weiss, coffee or death. But I feel like he’d also like Honey Nut Cheerios. I really don’t know why, they’re so un-Qrow. But maybe that’s exactly why he’d like them

#rwby #ruby rose #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #jaune arc #nora valkyrie #lie ren #oscar pine #emerald sustrai #mercury black #qrow branwen #mine #asks #Remy steel official

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simpingcowboy · 5 months

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Pedro boys and why I'm swiping left on their tinders

This is all to be silly!! I love them all very much <3

Frankie Morales

His name there says Frankie (Catfish)....with his main profile picture being him holding you guessed it...a catfish. He doesn't have many other photos on there, with the exception of a few older military photos that are so blurry you can hardly tell which one he's meant to be.

The rest of his page is pretty empty aside from the music section, where you actually get the first real glimpse at what this man is about. While his music selection is very respectable, it does not overshadow the glaring issues with his profile.

In short, Frankie's profile makes you think "Am I dating the man? The fish? Or a catfish?" Swiping left fs.

Marcus Moreno

This one isn't his fault! His profile is perfect. No really. All the women at The Heroics made sure to help him with it! His photos are cute and show off all his best assets. The bio is a little cheesy in an endearing "yeah he's definitely a dad" way. The problem then? It's Marcus fucking Moreno!!! Leader of the Heroics!!!!!! On Tinder???? There's no way anyone is going to believe it's really him. I believe there's a verification option on Tinder now, but really...even then Idk. Unless he fully comes out on an interview or something to super casually mention he's on Tinder, it just ain't working. No one likes a catfish! (Sorry Frankie!)

Jack Daniels

Mr. "Tinder What?" himself!!!! Let's say he manages to figure out how to set up a profile and all that. It's gonna be inTERESTING to say the least. His photos are actually pretty solid. An intriguing mix of photos of him on the ranch and photos of him in the Statesmen HQ looking very well put together. Opening line is definitely "Save a Horse! Ride a Cowboy! 🤠♥️" Very on brand for him. Followed by something very pro-american about the flag or serving his country and honestly... that's where I'm gone 😅. We get to see a bit of Jack's political mind in Kingsman and let's just say i don't wanna know the rest of it.

I'm grateful this is Tinder and not Bumble. Because if Jack used the audio prompt and I heard that smooth Kentucky accent...forget EVERYTHING I just said. I would be taking a chance on him. Sorry 😔 I can't fix him, but I will have fun trying!!

Joel Miller

For namesake, we're gonna set this pre-outbreak. There's no time for swiping in the apocalypse. Profile isn't bad just very empty. He's not really trying and it's kinda obvious. His bio reads something along the lines of "Single dad of a spoiled teen" with mostly photos of himself and Sarah on his profile. A few photos of him and Tommy out camping or on a work site.

And as handsome as he is, the profile feels like something his kid forced him to make as a way of getting him off her back. I wanna sympathize and help her out, but I don't know I have the heart to attempt to win over this very clearly emotionally unavailable DILF. So for that reason, I'm swiping left.

Pero Tovar

If for some ungodly reason Pero was given Internet access and had a dating profile... it'd be a disaster. His bio reads something along the lines of "I don't open this app. If you wish to see me meet me at this pub" with approximate days and times he's there.

The first picture on his profile is a way too far away blurry shot of him training. If I was feeling brave enough to continue scrolling through his photos...the rest would certainly be borderline explicit highly suggestive photos of his torso and groin. And whilst I might think about it for approximately .25 seconds any remaining sense of dignity would kick in before I actually did anything about it. It'll sting momentarily, but I will be swiping left.

Ezra

Another man on this list who should absolutely NOT be given internet access. His photos are beautiful but uninformative...the only shots of him are blurred and artistically obscure. He pads the rest of his profile with photos of books he's reading and grainy shoots of the forest.

The bio...if there's a word limit best believe that Ezra has hit it. He used every given character at his disposal and managed to say very little with all of it. Something about a wandering spirit longing for companionship and a couple sexual innuendos for good measure.

While visually and verbally not the worst profile on this list, his pretension is so utterly palpable through the screen I actually don't think I'd be able to make it through the end of his bio without cringing...also his music selection is all just banjo instrumental???

#am writes #pedro pascal #pedro boys #ezra prospect #pero tovar #joel miller #jack Daniels #marcus moreno #frankie morales #pedro pascal characters

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gingerylangylang1979 · 11 months

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Sydney wants Carmy… carnally

Images courtesy of @livelovecaliforniadreams, @starryyshadows, @cosmic-light-fics, @laryssamedeirss, @eatandsleepwell, @sydneysadamu

I said what I said. I think it's easier for people to recognize the instantaneous and continual attraction Carmy has for Sydney. It's difficult to ignore those laser beam, spiced up, supernatural looking heart eyes and the perpetual subconscious face study he's constantly doing.

With Sydney, it's more subtle, it's the yin to his yang of unrealized lust. I really wish I had found gifs of two key scenes that demonstrate this. One is in the pilot. Sydney is in the kitchen and Carmy comes back from outside to get the denim jacket from Nat. She kind of eyes him as he comes back in and it's so quick and sly most people miss it. The other moment is in "Sheridan Road" when they are prepping. The side eyes she gives asking about the menu seem a little more than curious. Both times she's looking sexy in his direction. If anyone has these gifs I'll gladly add them to this post.

Anyways, I just feel like Sydney has no idea that she had a hero crush before they even met. She had the meal she made and that linked them. She consumed his work, it had a huge impact. She knows about his Food & Wine award. I'm sure there were pics of young Carmy. I feel like she may have stared at them a bit too long, not thinking anything of it, but it imprinted. She never said, oh I have a celebrity chef crush. But if any part of her thought he was even a little attractive, a seed was planted.

Syd doesn't seem like the boy crazy type so I think while her eyes can't help doing what they do I think her physical attraction to Carmy was less pronounced in the beginning than her intellectual attraction to him. The thing is Carmy is problematic. This complicates things. She doesn't want to be attracted to him. He smokes, he's kookookachoo, they constantly fight, she looks up to him. Her dad would probably be suspicious. So I think this is all very difficult for her in a way it's different for Carmy. He has emotional blocks but thinks everything about her is perfect. She has emotional blocks too but his flaws are glaring in her face and manifest primarily with her.

Her mind is saying run but her libido, suppressed as it is, cautious as it is, is into him. She gets a very distinct lusty look in her eye with him sometimes. And I think she catches herself and tamps it back down. And sometimes his gazing at her draws her to gaze back. She also was the first one to intentionally touch the other. In "Review" she was trying to connect because they were not good but she took it to a physical place. The fact that it was on his arm, oof. Can't nobody convince me somewhere dark and secret she didn't like that. I also think she gets a charge when they fight. I think there is something scary about that for her because it's hot.

We know Carmy doesn't have dating experience but I'm starting to wonder if she's the same. She's especially awkward when both Carmy and Marcus suggest time spent together. Some would dismiss that as she's gay or asexual. I don't think so. She is clearly attracted to him and was clearly jealous of Claire in more than a professional way. I think she's probably really shy about sex and romance and it could be from lack of experience. So this whole sexy vibe with Carmy throws her off.

Sydney wants Carmy. It's as subdued as it can be but is starting to show. If anything happens she's going to want that short king to wreck her. I think she would be very bashful at first and then go feral the more they are together. Storer said this is a coming of age story. Her sexual awakening? That's both terrifying and tantalizing for our princess.

#charged and sexy #the bear fx #chefs kiss #carmy x sydney #syd x carmen #the bear is a mom & pop restaurant established in 2023.#chaos menu

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blooming-violets · 2 years

Note

Giving preschool teacher Peter Parker a massage, I know those kiddos use his long limbs as a human jungle gym

[from this prompt list] [feel free to request a prompt from the list]

[tasm!peter parker x reader]

Gray Hairs and Massages

"And then, for some unknown reason, Marcus stood up and started singing Jingle Bells at the top of his lungs while Allie attempted to do the worm around him. She hit her face off the floor and got a bloody nose. Meanwhile, Jessica and Kit have climbed to the top of the bookcase and are attempting to jump off, Kevin has Chubs the hamster in his pocket even after I told him not to touch the class pet, Max is spinning in circles so fast that he starts puking, Rowen is crying in the corner because he misses his mom, and the rest of the kids are sitting on the circle time rug looking at me like they've lost all hope in my abilities to run a classroom!"

Peter let out a loud, exaggerated sigh and flopped face first onto the bed after detailing his chaotic work day to you.

"I thought fighting crime was hard," he mumbled into the bunched up blankets under his face. "Preschool is worse than any bad guy I've ever come across."

You repressed a laugh for his own sanity and took a seat on the bed beside him, "At least it'll be good practice for when we have kids. If you can handle 22 children, I think you should be able to handle four with ease."

He peaked his eyes up from his blanket prison to give you a questioning look, "Four? You want four kids now? What happened to only two?"

You shot him a smile and gave an innocent shrug, "Hearing you talk about the chaos made me excited. I want to see you in action. Super dad, Peter Parker. It has a nice ring to it."

He groaned and hid his face back into the blankets, "I don't think I could even handle one. These children are crazed. They're taking over. They know I'm weak. They can smell my blood in the water and they're circling into attack mode. They're going to eat me alive. One day someone will check in on me and my half devoured body will be staring lifeless up at the ceiling while the children have gone completely feral as they feast on my flesh for snacktime. It's Lord of the Flies in there. My head has been pounding all evening."

You chucked at his over exaggeration of the situation and patted his back, "Such a drama queen. My day was lovely, thank you for asking. I got to sit in a quiet library and sort books."

He rolled over and flopped his head into your lap, staring up at you, "That sounds wonderful. Wanna trade?"

"You wish." You brushed your fingers through his thick hair. "Want me to give you a massage? I'll go grab some ibuprofen for your headache and massage away your troubles."

He responded with a pathetically sad whine, "Please. I'm dying."

You scooted out from under him to go grab a bottle of pain meds from the cabinet, along with a glass of water, and your cooling eye mask from the fridge. When you returned, Peter was laying in his boxers and had half unbuttoned his shirt before giving up. His arms were flopped onto the mattress and spread out to either side of him while he stared in a daze up at the ceiling.

"Help me," he croaked, his voice clearly strained from trying to speak over boisterous four year old's all day. "'m so tired. Can't even finish taking my shirt off. Just wanna be comfy..."

"Oh, honey, you poor thing," you chuckled under your breath. "Come here."

You placed his things on the bedside table and quickly made work of unbuttoning his shirt. He shrugged it off his shoulders, grabbing the pain relief next to him and chugging the entire glass of water with it. You helped fix the eye mask around his face and he rolled back onto his stomach.

You climbed up on top of him, straddling your legs on either side of his hips, and started to rub your hands over his bare shoulders. Peter let out a low groan of approval.

"Your hands are so cold," he mumbled.

"Aren't they always like that?" You replied, working your fingers into his large muscles with circular motions.

"Yeah but they feel nice now. You should quit your library job and work as a masseuse. Libraries are a dying breed."

You gasped in feigned outrage, "How dare you speak of my beloved library like that?"

He shrugged his tense shoulders, a tiny smile gracing his half hidden face, "Truth hurts, baby."

"Yeah, well, at least I know I'll never become a preschool teacher."

"Hey, don't mess with us teachers. We're hardcore."

You laughed, "Says the man who couldn't even take off his shirt tonight."

He gave a sly smile, "Maybe I wanted you to be the one to undress me? Maybe I knew exactly what I was doing?"

"Or maybe you were exhausted and lazy?" You patted his shoulder and rolled off him, sitting upright on the mattress. "Turn around and roll over. Put your head in my lap. I'll massage your head."

He did as he was told and settled nicely into your lap, a lingering smile on his lips. You gently took the eye mask off his face to have better access to him. You started with a gentle pressure, circling around his temples and working your way up his hairline to his forehead.

"Imma fall 'sleep," he mumbled.

"Go for it. You deserve the rest."

You continued to work on massaging his scalp, listening to his breathing get steadier and softer, when you looked down and quietly gasped at what you saw. As you ran your fingers through his thick hair, you noticed a patch of gray glinting under the dim light. The more you brushed through it, the more single strands of gray you saw. It wasn't immediately obvious unless you were up close and grooming him like you were doing but, there was no denying it, Peter was graying.

"Well, shit," you whispered under your breath.

Peter peaked a sleepy eye open and mumbled, "What? Don't tell me a kid gave me lice again."

"Not lice. Did you know that you're graying?" You couldn't hide the tinge of amusement in your voice.

His eyes snapped open, the sleep vanishing from his face, and he shot up right.

"What? I'm not going gray! Don't say that!" He gasped, putting a protective hand to his precious hair.

You laughed at his over the top reaction, "Sorry, Pete, but go look in the mirror."

He rolled off the bed and ran to the bathroom. You laid down to curl up in the warm spot his body heat had left on the bed and smiled when you heard his yelp of horror from the other room.

"No!" He yelled. "Those damn kids! This is their fault!" He shuffled back into the bedroom with a pout. "Am I old?"

You rolled your eyes, "You're 35, Peter."

"Is that old?" He sank to knees beside the bed in front of your face and looked up at you with pleading, but playful, eyes.

You nodded, taking on a serious tone, "Very. Oldest man alive."

"Oy vey," he stifled a laugh with his hand. "Might as well get me a cane and call me grandpa. Now that I think about it, my father grayed really early and so did Uncle Ben. At least they both still had a full head of hair. I'd rather be gray than bald. If I start to bald, I need you to put me out of my misery."

You scooted over to give him space to climb into bed with you, "Come on, old man. I promise if you go bald that I will make you a wig out of my own hair."

He rolled into bed beside you and snuggled his face next to yours so your noses were brushing against each other, "I have gray hair."

"I know," you whispered back. "That's so fucking hot."

"Really?"

You nodded, "Oh yeah. You're giving off serious daddy vibes right now." You gave him a sneaky smirk. "Is this old man too tired to please his wife tonight?"

His smile matched yours as you watched his eyes spark to life, "Wow, look at that, I suddenly feel fully rested. You're the perfect cure to a crazy day."

#tasm #tasm peter parker #tasm x reader #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter #tasm peter parker x reader #the amazing spiderman #andrew garfield #peter parker #peter parker x reader #tasm fic #touching prompts #gray hairs and massages #gray hairs and massages fic #blooming-violets #blooming violets fic #blooming violets

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shanastoryteller · 2 years

Note

Happy Halloween!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Can you please do slytherin harry or gryffindor draco!!!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

Sometimes Percy wishes the public feud he has with Agnesa was a little more real than it actually is, if only so he wouldn't feel obligated to let her pull him into things. "I'm not sneaking into Madame Pomfrey's office and stealing her logs from twenty years ago."

"I'm not asking you to," Agnesa protests, "I'm asking you to ask your brothers to. They like a challenge."

The worst part is that he knows George and Fred would do it gladly.

Penelope looks up from their potions homework. "I'll do it."

Agnesa's eyes narrow and Percy feels his eyebrows rising. "What do you want in return?"

"You'll find out when I ask for it," she says.

Agnesa scowls, but she must be really serious about this, because she says, "Fine. Nothing that will affect my class standing, though."

"Why are you going through this much effort to find out information about Remus Lupin?" he asks. "I already got you his last known address."

And hadn't that been a fun conversation to have with his father. He's pretty sure his dad had to ask one of his friends in another department to look it up for him, and Percy's not totally comfortable with his part in a misuse of government resources.

"I can't just show up at someone's house and harass them about their dead friends without ammunition," she says hotly. Percy would really prefer if she didn't do that at all. "Pulling his grades and school records are easy enough, but I can't get into the medical records myself."

Technically, she can't get his school records on her own, but the head boy is Troy Thompson, who is also captain of the Slytherin quidditch team and beholden to Agnesa because her tutoring is all that's keeping several members of his team from being forced off.

Marcus Flint probably owes Agnesa his first born or something for helping him pass transfiguration last year.

The Head Girl and Head Boy have access to student records and Troy won't blink an eye at abusing his power to stay on Agnesa's good side.

It's too bad that Agnesa won't let him forget about her being a Slytherin for a single moment. She's pretty cool otherwise.

Later, lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, he asks, "Do you think I bring these sort of things things onto myself?" without giving any sort of context.

"Yeah," Oliver says, voice muffled because of his glowing wand he that has clenched between his teeth. He's still going over quidditch plays even though they have an early class tomorrow.

Sometimes he thinks the people that accuse him of being high strung have just never spent an afternoon with Oliver Wood.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #harry potter

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spaghett-onaplate · 2 years

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My thoughts on Marcus

He was another love interest for Simon, so obviously there's an innate hatred of his character in that. But biases (mostly) aside, here are my thoughts on his character and his relationship with Simon.

So first, he was nice. He gave Simon a taste of what dating an ordinary boy would be like. When Simon started initiating sex, I'm glad that Marcus pushed him away.

So at first I was thinking, "Marcus is nice!" My impression from the pre-release information was that he would be nice to Simon, but ultimately couldn't compare to Simon's love for Wille. And I was right, mostly.

See, that was up until this conversation. (Episode 3, 22:30)

So Simon started to break up with him. But instead of accepting that, Marcus resisted. Simon didn't bend straight away, and kept making his intentions clear.

He couldn't have made it more obvious. Then, Marcus followed it with this:

And like, wtf. That was super unnecessary. And the implication that Simon could be anything like his dad is just, so out of nowhere? And the part that got me the most:

No, Marcus, you don't know that. You can't decide what's best for Simon whatsoever. And the contrast of Marcus acting like that with Wilhelm, who accepted Simon's wishes despite the fact it hurt him so much?? This whole conversation was so extremely uncomfortable and manipulative, where Simon clearly wanted to end things but Marcus convinced him against it. Plus, Simon looks so uncomfortable when Marcus pulls him into that hug!

Their relationship was doomed to fail from the start, considering the fact that Simon was still in love with Wilhelm. But argh, Marcus was less of the unfortunate rebound than I had anticipated.

And to be honest, at first I was quite uncomfortable during the Wilmon scenes, with the knowledge that Simon and Marcus were together. And I still am, but the reflection that Simon really did make his intentions clears it up at least a little.

And when Marcus called Simon out in episode 6, I think he was justified for it, despite his own character flaws. Simon made some pretty bad decisions this season himself. But, they're teenagers, they're humans, they're far from perfect. They're realistic and gritty. And isn't that what Young Royals is all about?

Anyway, bottom line is: Marcus sucks, Simon made some iffy choices, Wilmon will always be endgame. Thank you for reading.

#young royals #marcus yr #simon yr #marcus young royals #simon young royals #young royals analysis #young royals season two #young royals season 2 #yr s2 spoilers

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hoperays-song · 2 years

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Relationship Building: Parental Style: Johnny and Marcus

How did Marcus feel when Johnny was born?

Marcus was very happy to finally be able to meet his son but was terrified that he would end up like his father and worried Johnny would grow to hate him.

What moments of Johnny does Marcus look back upon fondly?

The first time Johnny played piano with Jia, how they both looked up at him with giant smiles on their faces and Jia said “Isn’t he just amazing? Our little songbird is a natural! Look at him go! That’s our boy!”

(Human AU) Johnny bringing home Olive and refusing to leave her side, sleeping on the concrete floor just to be able to comfort the puppy if need be.

Johnny hugging him when he went to see him after the talent show performance.

Johnny climbing into his and Jia’s bed as a kid to cuddle with them as a way to convince them not to make him go to school.

The first time Johnny did a skate trick and ran up to him to ask if he saw that and “How was that dad? Did you like it?” with a huge smile and puppy-dog eyes.

How Johnny insisted at being at every single court date to support him and making a heart with his hands during sentencing.

Johnny playing the piano during the talent show, fulfilling his mother’s lifelong dream of performing for a show audience.

Johnny sitting with Jia in the hospital, listening to her sing and singing the lyrics back.

(Human AU) Johnny handing him a stuffed gorilla on the two year anniversary of Jia’s death because he was crying and hugging him saying “Mummy didn’t like it when you cried Daddy… And I don’t like it either, it makes me sad.”

What moments of Marcus does Johnny look back upon fondly?

Marcus giving him his first skateboard and teaching him to skate.

Marcus holding Johnny on his shoulders when they visited Buckingham palace to see the changing of the guard when Johnny was little.

Marcus picking Johnny up from school after he fainted for the first time in 3rd grade with his stuffed toys and a weighted blanket.

How his dad gives him a hug every time he’s allowed during court dates.

How his dad will tell him story after story about his mum whenever he cries about missing her.

Marcus letting him help in the shop using his skateboard as a mechanic creeper even though he kept hitting his head.

Marcus teaching him how to drive calmly, like how he was when Johnny was little.

(Human AU) Marcus giving Johnny a stuffed gorilla as a birthday present the year after his mum died on a trip to the zoo.

His dad hugging him super tight after breaking out to see him.

When did they feel closest to each other?

The first few years after Jia’s death as Johnny was afraid of losing his dad as well and Marcus just wanted to cling to the last piece of Jia he had.

Why did they start to drift apart?

When Johnny started hitting his teens he started to take after Jia more and more to the point it was all Marcus could see when he looked at him. This led Marcus to start pushing his son away as he didn’t want to get attached enough that it would hurt to remember losing her all over again and hating Johnny’s resemblance to his mum as it made him think he was going to lose Johnny too.

Johnny never understood why his dad suddenly seemed to hate being around him and blamed himself, distancing himself from his father as the man started to try to make him more like himself which Johnny hated and took as a sign that his dad didn’t like him for who he was.

What were their biggest fights about?

They fought a bit about the gang and robberies at the start but it mostly had stopped until Marcus kept trying to get Johnny involved and Johnny wanted nothing to do with it.

What does Marcus resent about Johnny?

He resents how much Johnny takes after his mum as it makes him scared he’s going to lose Johnny too and how Johnny got his stubbornness so they argue a lot and hold grudges easily.

What does Johnny resent about Marcus?

He resents how his dad doesn’t listen to him and instead assumes aspects of his life as it makes him feel invisible and unimportant and how stubborn he is so that they argue and fight a lot as well as hold grudges way too easily.

What past issues have created tension between them?

Johnny being very dismissive of his future in the gang and refusing to participate further than being a lookout. Marcus refusing to listen to his son’s wishes.

Is one of them more invested in the relationship than the other?

In the beginning, Johnny was far more invested in their relationship than his father, mainly because his father does not see anything wrong with it but they eventually become equally invested.

What is Johnny’s moral philosophy?

To be honest to yourself and loyal to your family in the pursuit of your goals, you can choose your own path and future. Loyalty to Self.

What is Marcus’s moral philosophy?

To be loyal to your found family above all else with no exception, choose your family wisely as people you can speak your mind to. Loyalty to Group.

What is Marcus’s parenting style?

He’s pretty hands off but overprotective when Johnny’s health and safety is concerned. He is becoming more involved in his son’s life now and started caring about what’s going on.

How does Johnny react when they fight?

Johnny shuts down emotionally and just becomes really snarky, typically leaving the shop for a few hours.

How does Marcus react when they fight?

Marcus gets angry and yells a lot and typically just stews angrily in the shop til he’s tired. He snaps at Stan and Barry as well.

How does Johnny react to Marcus’s reaction?

Johnny feels hurt when he gets yelled at and yells back, typically saying things he doesn’t mean and usually ends up crying until Stan or Barry step in to stop it.

How does Marcus react to Johnny’s reaction?

Marcus gets angry that Johnny’s running away from the fight and typically yells more, usually saying things he doesn’t mean and starts to get emotional until Stan or Barry step in.

What is something they both agree on?

Both of them like berry Jaffa Cakes over orange, like speaking Hindi at home, and enjoy doing things hands on instead of things like desk jobs. Loyalty is extremely important.

What is something they both value?

Communication and loyalty. They both struggle to understand implied meanings and things and their relationship has suffered a lot from miscommunication and assumptions. Loyalty is important because it’s reassuring to know someone has your back, especially when you’re new someplace or in a gang.

How does Johnny take after Marcus?

He is as stubborn as his father and inherited his die-hard loyalty to people he cares about. (Human AU) He does not take after him much in terms of appearance except for his nose, black hair that is curlier than his mum’s, and a bit darker skin tone than hers. He also got his dad’s dramatic flair that the man claims is not from him.

How does Marcus feel about Johnny taking after him?

Marcus was honestly horrified when Stan pointed out that they were going to keep fighting since Johnny was just like him when it came to being stubborn and thought he messed up his kid by Johnny taking after him.

How would Johnny describe their relationship?

“It was a bit rough for a while but it’s getting better! We’re going to family therapy and stuff and he’s really supportive now. A bit overprotective but he’s trying really hard and we’ll be back to normal soon.”

How would Marcus describe their relationship?

“I destroyed it without realizing for years but Johnny’s giving me a second chance now. I’m going to get better and be the father he deserves, if it’s the last thing I do. I owe him that at the very least.”

What is Johnny’s strongest memory of Marcus?

Marcus telling him he’s proud of him after the talent show performance.

What is Marcus’s strongest memory of Johnny?

Johnny crying and begging him not to leave too in the hospital after Jia passed away.

What’s the worst memory of Marcus that Johnny has?

Marcus disowning him after he caused him to get arrested, the hatred and anger in his eyes.

What’s the worst memory of Johnny that Marcus has?

The pain and fear on Johnny’s face right after he disowned him, the pain and fear he caused his son to feel.

What’s the worst thing that Marcus has ever said to Johnny?

“How did I end up with a son like you? You’re nothing like me. You never have been and you never will be.” - From Sing 1 where Marcus disowned Johnny for messing up the heist.

What’s the worst thing that Johnny has ever said to Marcus?

“I wish I was never even born! At least then mum would still be here and you actually loved her!” - From when they moved to the states, Johnny was ten and wanted to stay in England.

What do Johnny and Marcus do together?

Johnny lives at the garage with his dad but they only really hang out at meal times and if Marcus needs help on a car repair at first. Eventually, they start having family game nights, watching movies, and working in the garage together. They also attend court ordered family therapy on Sundays.

How does Marcus feel about Johnny’s hobbies/interests?

He doesn’t really understand them but tries his best to be supportive of his son and takes time out of his schedule to go watch as many of his performances as he can. He occasionally helps Johnny with the piano after picking some up from Jia.

How does Johnny feel about Marcus’s hobbies/interests?

He does not have much interest in cars or mechanical things but encourages his dad’s interest in them much more than he encouraged the gang. He helps out when he can and genuinely enjoys it as a chance to spend time with Marcus.

How would an outsider describe their relationship?

They are pretty close for a father-son pair and seem to be willing to do a lot for each other. They always stand up for each other and are very supportive as well. Overall, a very nice loving relationship, if a little overprotective on Marcus’s side.

#sing #sing 2 #sing johnny #sing marcus #sing big daddy #I know most of these are headcannons #but it makes sense to me #Johnny's mum was a pianist because I said so #I wish I had a dad like marcus #first official brain dump #jia is my version of johnny's mum and I love her so much

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silversodas · 8 days

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The Fairly Odd Parents: A New Wish Observations

What actually sold me on giving this series a solid chance, was the theme song, why? Because for me it showed what the series is attempting to be, something that’s paying homage to the source material while being it’s own thing and knowing what it wants to be.

The original theme song is categorized as Electric Swing or Light Jazz. This new theme song sounds like straight up Swing and it SLAPS!

The Set Up

So Hazel Wells moves to the city with her parents for her Dads job and at the same time her older brother and best friend Antony has left for college. Leaving Hazel overwhelmed but still trying to put on a brave face for her family. Not long after arriving they are visited by their new next door neighbors

Cosmo and Wanda are masquerading as a retired human couple

Lol one of the gifts in the welcome basket Cosmo gives them is a jar of pennies. In some places it’s a thing to leave pennies as gifts for fairies, I wonder if Cosmo thought it was a custom human gift

The concept of the parents are pretty interesting, especially their jobs.

Angela is a therapist and author, with all of the non self awareness fairy world had going on her insight could definitely be interesting if she somehow finds out. she is also pretty open minded and non judgmental, not being off put by Cosmo and Wanda’s weird behavior and inviting them in

Marcus is a paranormal scientist, which instantly makes Cosmo and Wanda nervous but what makes him interesting is that he didn’t go in the direction I thought he was going. I thought he was going to go full FOP writing fashion and him basically say he was looking for fairies. But no, he is just wanting to learn the unexplained and mostly about ghost. I don’t know the fact that he is presented as a friend to Cosmo and Wanda who could be a potential obstacle because of the interest that are apart of his character is a lot more interesting then if he was presented as a blatantly obvious obstacle and that’s his only purpose as a character. ( not saying it was bad when FOP did it, they did it in a way that was funny just not to compelling)

Hazel figures out they are magic because both Cosmo and Wanda are piss poor at hiding it but Hazel actually completely drops it after being unable to get her parents to see it

Angela and Marcus actually make pretty good foils for Cosmo and Wanda they are both just completely normal people who highlight Cosmo and Wanda’s colorfulness just as they highlight Angela and Marcus’s normalcy. Hazel, Marcus, and Angela seem to be emotionally intelligent people and it makes them enjoyable and honestly is refreshing

This girl has more emotional maturity then I ever dreamed of having at 10, she keeps her brave face until she hears that Antony can’t come visit till the holiday brake, she has an understandable brake down and her parents feel really bad they are having to change so much so fast for her.

She almost runs away until Cosmo and Wanda catch her (which is interesting because when she passed them on her way up stairs they where to busy with their mail to pay attention to her, but when she is about to run away their full attention snapped to her. Their “child is about to do something stupid”senses must have been tingling) she relents and vents to them about her troubles and that she just wanted to see her brother.

Cosmo and Wanda seem to have a Cathartic moment in realizing that Hazel needed help and that they realized that they were ready to be Godparents again. It was this moment I was like “yeah, you guy’s definitely retired because letting go of Timmy hurt you”

It’s when after everything is resolved and Hazel visits their vary magical and whimsical apartment (I bought the episodes on YouTube but they wouldn’t let me take screen shots) that they reveal that they had been on a 10,000 year sabbatical through time and space during their retirement. They don’t bring up Timmy, just say that they used to be Godparents to kids but then retired for 10,000 years (and no it’s not 10,000 years into the future, they were just time traveling). They actually nervously ask Hazel if she would consider being their Godkid which she enthusiastically agrees too. Don’t make pacts with fairies kids

How it’s going so far

Something interesting to note that while they never bring up Timmy, he kinda haunts the background I think they still have some unprocessed grief for Timmy that may get unpacked. I herd this show is supposed to get an overarching story and after seeing a few episodes I can tell that it’s staying consistent that it’s not completely episodic even if it’s a slow build ( as slow as it’s allowed to be anyway)

It looks like their human personas are their default disguises, that has the potential to be interesting in future episodes

I can tell that Hazel is still not 100% close with Cosmo and Wanda right off the bat, she is still getting to know them, like it was actually so enduring to watch her formally thank them for playing with her. Cosmo and Wanda are also trying to ease themselves in for her sake, but it’s clear that even though they are out of practice they are all in for this little girl and are in Godparent mode. Wanda is never not in Mom mode, and Cosmo already knows all of her special interests off the top of his head in the short time he has known her.

I don’t know, I just saw that a lot of people have been “rightfully” cautious about this show or have written it off, and just wanted to share some things that I thought made it interesting and made it worth giving a look

There are some who are a bit hopeful because one of the writers for infinity train is on the writing team so who knows

#fop #the fairly oddparents #the fairly oddparents a new wish #fop a new wish #fop a new wish spoilers #not the stuff I usually write about #but it did catch my interest #idk I just hope this didn’t get to rambley

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pitconfirmbutton · 1 year

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what's in a last name | mick schumacher

pairing: mick schumacher x oc (maria senna)

was the schumacher-senna fight going to be as competitive the second time around?

word count: 4.5k words warnings: death of loved ones, motorsport accidents, anxiety

not super happy with this one but wanted to get it out for y'all. most likely will be a part 2 :)

Ayrton Senna. Champion of 3 World Driver’s titles. Winner of 41 F1 Grand Prix. Holder of 65 pole positions. Driver for Toleman Motorsport, Lotus, McLaren and Renault. Father of one.

That one being Maria Senna. That’s me. I was born in São Paulo, Brazil on the 1st of May 1999. 5 years to the day after my father had died going into Tamburello at the Autodromo Enzo e Dino Ferrari circuit in Italy.

I know what you’re thinking, that math doesn’t make sense. You’d be correct. My mother, Adriane Galisteu and my father had decided to try for children in 1994 and were unsuccessful. Ayrton wanted to be a dad more than anything in the world and as such they organised for IVF, a sample being taken from both of them. The crash happened and my mother swore she would never have kids, unable to face the pain of seeing even a tiny bit of Ayrton in someone else, wishing to never be reminded of the loss of him.

Life went on and my mother decided that she wanted to instead honour Ayrton’s legacy and as such the samples were used and 8 months and 24 days later, I was born. Maria Clara Senna da Silva. However, for most of my life, I went by Maria Clara Galisteu, hiding in plain sight. I had grown up hearing about my father’s talents and achievements, watching all his races on television. My cousin, Bruno would watch with me, placing me in a laundry basket and giving me a plate to steer with, copying his onboard footage.

My mother disapproved vehemently, not wishing to watch another loved one enter motorsport and succumb to the same demise as Ayrton. She knew she could not stop me from wanting to honour my father and my love for what he did. As such I began karting at the age of 6, Bruno taking me to his old karting track in between his British Formula 3 season. I adored it and picked it up quickly, feeling my happiest with a radiator to my left and an engine to my right. No one in Brazil compared to my talent, except for my close friend and “teammate” Felipe Drugovich. I say teammate lightly, his father helping me as a mechanic at karting races when Bruno was away.

Felipe and I got along like a house on fire, making our way to Europe together, both of us competing in Italian Formula 4 for the 2016 and 2017 seasons. It was here that I met some of my greatest friends; Marcus Armstrong, Juan Manuel Correa, Enzo Fittipaldi and Olli Caldwell.

It was also here that I met my biggest enemy, Mick Schumacher. I will be honest, but only because I’m telling you, I probably wouldn’t have hated him if it wasn’t for his last name. I was aware of my father’s battles with Michael, and this meant that I immediately held a grudge. I still remember him coming over to shake my hand, his bright red Prema hoodie making him impossible to miss. “Hey, it’s so nice to meet you, I’m Mick.” His hand suspended between us. “I know who you are,” was all I said, turning on my heels and walking back into the Van Amersfoort Racing trailer. “Spoilt brat” was all Mick whispered under his breath as I turned. I hadn’t told anyone who my father was and as such, I had no leg to stand on as to why I was angry at him. Chatting to Juan Manuel one day he had asked about Mick. “Why do you hate him so much?” I pushed my pasta around the bowl a bit. “I don’t hate him, he’s just so up himself.” “Wait, are we talking about the same person?” “Oh yeah, I forgot, it’s probably in your contract to protect the Prema golden boy.” “Give him a chance, Maria.” “No thanks.”

I was meticulous, always the first driver to the track and the last one to leave. I would go over data for hours, spend time with my engineers and walk the track as much as I needed. I was a winner and I was a winner because I put in more work than anyone else. Although in 2016, I placed second, the first loser to my number one rival, Mick Schumacher. But in 2017, I won.

2018 brought on a move to the FIA Formula 3 Championship, staying with Van Amersfoort Racing. I kept my friends and I kept my discipline. The way I held myself, trained, practised and raced brought the attention of a few driver academies. Nothing would have prepared me for the email I received halfway through 2018, the header filled with papaya orange and the footer containing the speedy kiwi. “I am taking us home, dad.”

2018 involved me coming second… again, to Mick Schumacher… again. I was beyond annoyed but I was able to move up to Formula 2 for 2019, moving to Prema of all places, alongside Mick himself. I was peeved but I knew the car was fast and I knew I could ignore him like I had the last 3 years. He was not going to ruin this for me now. With my McLaren backing, I had a real shot to get to Formula 1, I needed these super license points and I was ready to do anything to get them.

“Do you ever have fun?” Mick had said as he entered our driver’s trailer, watching me highlight my data and analyse a different graph on my iPad. “It is fun, you’d find it fun too if you won more.” I quipped back. He scoffed and sat down next to me at the table. I slid my notes and data up into a pile and put it in my bag, turning to look at him, arms crossed and an unamused expression on my face. “Can I help you, Schumacher?” I straightened my back, making myself seem scarier than I was. “Yeah, you can actually! I want to know why you hate me so much! You are friends with everyone, except me. Why?” He looked exasperated, flailing his hands around in a way that I had never seen before from the usually composed and cool-headed German. “You are just so entitled, Mick! Using your last name to get you wherever you need to go! Showing it off to the world like it is something to be so smug about. You know some of us had to work to get here, right? On merit and hard work!” I had stood up, knocking my chair to the ground, pointing down at him. He stood to match me. “How dare you, Maria! I can’t help that I am my father’s son and I cannot help that I was lucky enough to have the opportunity to make it to where I am. But you know what, I would give it all up, in a single second, if it meant that I got to talk to my dad one more time. If I got to hear him say he loved me one more time. So yeah, I have the most powerful last name in Formula 1 history, but I wear it like a fucking badge of honour because every day I go out on track, I can only hope to be half the driver that he was. That is something that you will never understand.” He was breathing heavily, piercing me with his blue eyes. “You’re not the only one with a father who is no longer here, Mick” and with that I stormed out of the trailer, ready to run the track 2 more times to purge my brain of the conversation.

I won that weekend, at the Hungaroring. A place my father had taken 3 wins in Formula 1. I smiled up at him on that podium, hoping that I was making him proud. I turned to my right, briefly looking at Mick, wondering if he thought the same thing every time he was on a podium too. I wondered if he was thinking about his dad’s four wins here in Hungary. I shook my head slightly, fighting to free the thought of how similar we were. I didn’t want us to be, but there was no denying it.

Five. That was the number. The number of wins that my father had taken here at Spa-Francorchamps. I was hoping to have my first. I knew Mick was too.

“Red flag, red flag, red flag!” My heart sunk. I had watched the two cars collide in my mirrors. The bright pink car turning to scattered pieces in less than a second. Being around motorsport for my whole life, I knew, I could tell. It was not good. And for the first time in my racing career, I realised that I couldn’t breathe. I’d never felt like this before. “Oh my god” was all my lungs could push out down the radio as I headed back to the pits.

“Everything ok, Maria? Do you have a puncture? You are traveling quite slow but we can’t see anything here on the data.” I couldn’t answer, I could barely breathe and I felt like my world was going to collapse. The 1st of May 1995 had come flooding back to my mind, but this time, instead of my father, it was my friend, a good friend at that. In that moment, as I sat in my car, finally back in the pits, I experienced the grief of my father’s death 24 years ago. An event I never had to mourn until now.

I was suffocating and suddenly my suit was too tight, my harness felt like vines trying to pull me to hell and my helmet felt like it was trying to kill me, compressing my head. I was clawing at my neck, unable to find my zipper or my helmet strap with my gloves on but when I tried to remove them, my fingers didn’t move. I told them to and they didn’t. I realised in that moment that I had been screaming, the sound so muffled by my helmet and the roar of engines, the blast of sirens and the chatter of people. But then my neck didn’t feel as constricted and when I lulled my head, I was staring back at Mick. He flipped my visor up, the breeze stinging my tear stained face. “Let’s get you out of here, ok?” And with that, my harness was undone and I was lifted from my car. My legs gave way and my sobs were so much louder now, Mick propping me up as he rushed me through the garage to our trailer.

I didn’t stop crying once, I was babbling nonsense as Mick lifted me to sit on a workbench in our trailer. “Can you take your helmet off?” He had asked, looking straight into my eyes, watching the tears flow. I shook my head, no, I couldn’t, I couldn’t even think right now. It took me about 13 more restricted breaths before I realised that my vision was becoming blurred and I could no longer distinguish Mick’s freckles from his complexion. He turned to wave someone over but it didn’t matter, I was out.

My eyes fluttered open, squinting from the harsh light that shone from the trailer roof. I moved my limbs slightly, feeling the hard massage bed beneath me. Turning to my left, I saw Mick. He hadn’t seen me wake yet but as I looked closer, I began to notice just how badly he was doing. He had his head in his hands, his shoulders moving occasionally, soft sobs echoing through the room. He was now back in his Prema hoodie and tracksuit pants, I had clearly been out for a while. “Mick.” I was surprised that my voice was even audible. He looked up and my heart broke and for the first time, I saw a scared boy. He no longer towered over me, he crumpled where he sat and his usually rosy cheeks looked pale and tear-stained. “Hey” was all I got from him. I stood up to sit next to him, transferring my weight from the bed to the bench that I had been propped up on not so long ago.

“Was it Anthoine?” I couldn’t look at Mick, if I did, I would break all over again. “Yeah. Yeah, it was. I am sorry Maria, I know you guys were close.” I nodded, looking down at my lap. “What.. what happened to you on that in lap?” He finally faced me. I knew he would have asked, I was always so fierce and composed, my breaking down was unheard of. I tossed my options up in my head but when I turned to look at Mick, I knew then that he could have asked anything of me and I would have. His eyes were watery but kind, not how I remembered them to be before that, always so beady and harsh. His hand rested on mine, softly to test the waters but then his fingers curled encasing my hand in his. I had to tell him. It was only fair. I knew he would keep my secret, if only because he knew my pain.

“My dad.” I was scared to say more than that but I knew it wasn’t enough to explain the situation. He surveyed my face, picking up on my need for him to continue the conversation. “It reminds you of your father’s passing?” He spoke timidly, without his confident facade, weary of upsetting me and ruining our first proper chance at friendship. I nodded in confirmation of his question. “He was a racer? He drove cars too?” Again I nodded, willing myself to finally speak any words. He smiled at my nod, resonating with the bond that children have with their father’s legacies. “Was he in NASCAR or Indy? Rally?” I could tell that Mick was racking his brain trying to place my surname. It was obvious that he knew all the F1 drivers and none of them shared my last name. “No. F1.” The way his head flicked towards me, trying to catch my eye to see if I was joking. I wasn’t. He was racking his brain for a question to ask, to confirm it. He wasn’t stupid, here was a Brazilian girl in front of him, the same age and there was only one possibility.

“Imola?” He leaned back, waiting for my reaction. I nodded. He didn’t react, just turned to look straight ahead, processing the information. “But, how could you be my age if-“ “IVF, yeah” I knew he would ask. He nodded again, seeing that it added up. “Does anyone know?” He turned to me again, his eyes softening. “No, no one, well except Bruno and my mother obviously. Not even Felipe does.” I sighed, it felt almost refreshing to be able to get this off of my chest and tell someone.

“I think in that car hearing the red flag called, that was the first time I properly grieved my father’s death. It had always seemed too far away and impossible but it happened again. I have never felt sadness like I have now.”

We sat together in silence until the team came and got us. It was only when Bruno, who had been acting as my manager during this time, gave me a weird look and I realised that Mick and I had been holding hands, finding comfort in one another as we processed the events of the day and the revelation I had dropped. Bruno’s look quickly softened when he realised just how upset I was, my eyes still watery and my skin pale. I thought at that moment, that I had hit rock bottom, that nothing would ever feel as painful as how my heart felt right there. But I think we both know that I wouldn’t be saying that if it was the case. Life has a way of kicking us when we are down and it kicked me hard.

Mick had messaged me throughout that week and over the next few races we had grown closer. Not friends just yet but we were amicable and I always felt his watchful eye on me. During interviews, training, conferences and racing I felt for the first time like I had someone ready to catch me if I fell. I showed my vulnerable side and through that, I had gained a confidante. He hadn’t told a soul of my secret and I was grateful. I suspected it was because he understood my desire to stay invisible, to be able to have the opportunity to rise through the ranks myself, a privilege, I realised, he never got. I had reflected on my comments towards him and had apologised, he knew now that I was merely projecting but I still felt bad.

The last race of the season was at Yas Marina, both F2 and F1 ending the 2019 season here. I was expected to win but I was only leading Mick in the championship by 7 points. It was close. I wanted to win and I hated all of the remarks from broadcasters and even my team of, ‘you can win the championship if he comes second and you get at least third, fourth or fifth’. I know they were trying to show me how possible it was, how I was right there, to win the championship in my rookie season and to be the first woman to win an F2 championship. I knew it settled my nerves, my engineer going over it all with me so that radio messages during the race made sense when comparing my results to Mick but I just wanted to be first. It was in my nature and no one would stop me.

As I walked through the paddock, my headphones in, the sound of rock pouring into my ears, I knew that I belonged here, stopping into the Mercedes garage, I quickly said hello to Lewis, who had been an avid support of mine, both on talent and my battle to overcome my diversity. He gave me a hug and a good luck and I was on my way again. As I walked the paddock, I became more and more aware of the eyes on me, engineers stopped what they were doing to point and whisper, broadcasters looking at me too. I was confused, obviously I was well known, I was leading the F2 championship currently but there had never been a reception like this, especially from the F1 teams who were always too busy (or too important) to care. I started my way back to the Prema motorhome, the stares starting to freak me out.

One second I was walking past a short alleyway between trailers and the next I was leaning against one, my shoulders being held and my eyes looking straight at Mick, his eyes filled with worry. The more I looked over him, the more I realised how dishevelled he looked, hair messy, face glowing with sweat and breathing heavily. “Mick, get off me. What is going on?” I stood up, straightening my hair with my hand. “I swear it wasn’t me. I would never do that to you. I promise. I’m so sorry and we will figure this out together. I’m by your side.” He muttered out, his ramblings so foreign compared to his usual composed and calm speech. “What are you talking about?” I hadn’t a clue what was going on. “Oh god. You haven’t heard yet, have you?” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone, tapping through an app before passing it to me.

“I’m so sorry, Maria. I needed to find you before anyone else did and let you know” His eyes were wide and his brows furrowed, pleading with me to believe him. My first instinct was to be mad at him, be so furious that I kicked and screamed and threw punches but I just knew it wasn’t him. If my teammate was anyone else, I wouldn’t have believed them but we had lived such similar lives, I knew he couldn’t betray me like that. “I believe you, Mick.” His shoulder tension dropping at my affirmation of his innocence. “What do I do now?” I was genuinely clueless. I had always had a plan in life, everything following as I had planned, but now… I had nothing. “Let’s go back to the garage and see what we can do next, Rene can handle this.”

My hands had never been as sweating as they were sitting in that conference room. I looked around the circular table, Rene, Mick, Bruno and then myself, that was it. “It’s true, Rene. I should have told you and I understand if you are mad but I really was just trying to make it on my own. I didn’t want to wear my father’s name like a label.” He nodded and smiled. “I know, Maria, I know. What do you want to come from this?” He reached across the table and squeezed my hand, giving me a sympathetic thin-lipped smile. He was like a father to me and what I imagined it would be like to have Ayrton around still, he was always pushing me, always wanting me to do more, but he was so proud of my achievements and wanted the best for me. “I don’t want to say anything until after the race. Please.” He nodded. “No media until after the race, you decide then what your answer to everyone’s question is. Same for you, Mick, no media.” He smiled and then let it drop, remembering that him being excused from media was because my identity was being leaked. It made me smile a little if nothing else. “Also, I have spoken to a few people around the team and apparently one of the mechanics leaked this to the press. He overheard you both talking after Spa and wanted to make some money off of this. I am truly sorry, Maria. He was been let go of immediately and if you would like, we can pursue legal action.” All I could do was nod, what was done, was done. But it was race time and I needed to focus.

In true Mick fashion, I had gotten a fist bump and a smile and good luck before the race. The Prema garage was tense but excited. No one knew what was about to happen but they were keen to find out, much like we were too. I won’t get into the final race, if you are reading this, then you probably know the results and if you don’t, have a look on F1TV, it wasn’t a bad race, although I may be pretty biased. All I can say is that, as I jumped from my car, parked behind the sign with a one printed on it, I was on top of the world. I wasn’t thinking about my father, about my team, about my mother back in Brazil… I was actually thinking about the person driving the car that pulled up behind number two. Who sprung out of their car like there was a fire and who picked me up and twirled me around like I weighed nothing. Up on the podium, as the Brazilian national anthem played, I looked to my right and wondered if Mick had the same thought as me, the next generation of Senna and Schumacher, the future greats battling it out on track.

“Yes.”

“Sorry Maria, what do you mean?”

“I know what you were about to ask me, yes.”

“We were trying to do the math before an-”

“IVF. Any other questions?”

“Is it true that you like the second-generation Schumacher more than your father liked the first?”

Looking over my shoulder, Mick was graciously completing interviews and my heart swelled. I wasn’t dumb. I had known all along that my projection of my own fatherly situation and my supposed hatred of him was to mask how I really felt. That the first day we ever met, when he came over, Italy coloured hoodie on and introduced himself, it had been love at first sight. Nothing had changed and looking at him now, chatting away with pride after just narrowly coming second in the championship, my heart felt the same love.

“He wishes.”

The next season, 2020, Mick had won the F2 championship and I was spending my time as the McLaren reserve driver, beside Carlos Sainz and Lando Norris, soaking in every detail I could and trying to honour my father’s legacy as much as possible. 2021 involved Mick in Alfa Romeo with Valtteri Bottas and myself now in the second seat at McLaren with Lando Norris.

4 years with our teams, blood, sweat and tears both on and off track. A few pole positions and a few race wins, a few crashes and a few too many DNF’s (although if you ask me, 1 is too many). Our love grew and was tested daily but I knew that nothing was ever going to change how I felt about Mick. He was the smell of pine amongst the ice of Swiss mountains, he was the reflection the sun made on the sand underneath the shallow ocean water and he was the soft crackle that a fireplace made. He was my comfort and my support through everything. We were private but never secretive and I knew that if he asked me to give up racing, I would in a heartbeat but he never would, it wasn’t in his nature.

I looked up from my laptop, a soft knock rousing me from my work. “Are you writing right now? On your wedding day, oh my goodness, Maria, no!” Lily was standing there in her bridesmaid dress, hair curled and makeup on. “You need to get your dress on, Lewis, you were meant to be keeping her on track.” She gestured to the man lounging on a desk chair, who sprung into action at realising the time. “Shit, Maria, you need to get ready!” Lily rolled her eyes. “We are all ready to go, so dress on and let’s get you married, hey?” I nodded and slipped into my dress, Lewis helping when I called for him to do the zip for me. With my shoes on, I was ready to marry the love of my life. “He would be so proud of you, prodígio. I just know it.” I smiled back at him as we waited in the entrance room of one of the Schumacher ranch barns. Having converted the whole property for our wedding. White flowers adorned the area, small candles in jars and a line of luxury cars, it was us to a tee.

As I met Mick at the end of the aisle, I had to tilt my head back, stopping the tears that brimmed. “You look utterly breathtaking, Liebling.” He was in awe and I felt more beautiful than I ever had. “You don’t look so bad too.” “Wait, is it going to be Schumacher-Senna or Senna-Schumacher?” He furrowed his brows together, wanting to make sure his vows were correct, I chuckled. “Take a guess, Mick. The Senna name won a championship first.” We giggled with each other before the minister started his speech. All I could do was look into those beautiful blue eyes and know everything would be okay.

#mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic

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bluestar22x · 2 months

Text

Colic

Colic: A Baby Fever Oneshot

Summary: You find Marcus by Rylee's crib in the middle of the night

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!(Wife)Reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Fluff, angst, dedicated dad Marcus (swoon worthy)

Word Count: 900(ish)

Author's Note: Parenting can be rough sometimes, but they've got this

xxx

It was the first thing you noticed besides how dark it still was outside: the spot beside you in your bed was empty.

Still drowsy from sleep, you swept a hand over it but couldn't tell how long it had been unoccupied by the temperature difference alone. It was too subtle, September still too warm to cool the ruffled bedsheets.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, but you knew it was your uncomfortably full bladder that had drawn you out of your slumber too early rather than the impending storm.

It was strange, being stirred by something other than Rylee's cries in the middle of the night. It had only been six weeks since her birth, but you'd become accustomed to it, as exhausting as it was.

Especially since her late night routine had become off kilter as of late, your poor daughter having turned into a victim of painful bouts of colic that Dr. Harrington couldn't explain. Or at least she couldn't find a specific reason, which was apparently common with infants.

Though she couldn't give you a reason or a solution, besides giving Rylee time to grow out of it, Dr. Harrington had assured you that it wouldn't have any long lasting affects on her, so at least there was that.

You sighed heavily and did your best to sneak out of bed to relieve yourself in the bathroom down the hall, before beginning a search for your missing husband.

You didn't have to look for long.

Your lips pulled up into a ghost of a smile and you shook your head when you found Marcus exactly where you'd suspected him to be, on the floor in Rylee's nursery. He was in nothing but his boxers, back pressed against the rails of the crib and chin tipped into his chest, obviously asleep.

It wasn't the first time that week that you'd found him beside her crib, trying to soothe her with his presence.

"Marcus," you called out from the doorway, volume no louder than a whisper.

He startled at the sound of his name and stared up at you with bleary eyes. "Oh, hey, what are you doing up?"

You leaned against the door frame on one shoulder. "I could ask you the same thing."

He rubbed at his face with the base of his palms and peered over at Rylee, who was still sound asleep in her crib, chest rising and falling peacefully. A sight for sore eyes.

He pushed himself off the ground, grimacing and clutching at the lower section of his back as he attempted to straighten up. He must've been on the ground for a long while if he was that sore, you thought.

"You're going to destroy your back if you keep sitting on the floor next to her crib like that," you warned him as he approached you.

"I'll keep that in mind," he responded, and you shook your head again, knowing full well that as long as Rylee wasn't feeling good he'd end up on the floor again and again anyway. He'd do anything for his little girl, that much was clear, even if that meant destroying his body to give her a little comfort. You loved him all the more for it, though you did wish he would at least sit in the rocking chair instead.

It was quite possible he was too tired for such rational thought.

"How long have you been up?" you inquired. "How did I miss her crying?"

Rylee's colicky cry was hard to miss, a wail of pain that broke your heart every time you heard it, and split your ears anytime you were even in the vicinity of her. You could've been physically knocked unconscious and you still would've woken up to it. Except that you hadn't this time, apparently.

"I had to take a piss and heard her starting to whimper on the way back from the bathroom," he explained. "What time is it?"

"A little past four in the morning," you said, remembering the glimpse of the red glowing numbers on the nightstand's old digital alarm clock you'd gotten on your way out of the master bedroom.

"I've been in here for around an hour then," he guessed.

"Was it the colic?"

He nodded somberly. "Yeah. I assume so. I was able to calm her down before she got loud, but she did sound uncomfortable and her diaper was clean."

You made a face at him, one twisted with the distaste of hearing about your baby being in any kind of distress. "This sucks."

"Yeah." Marcus turned to look towards the crib again, a disheartened expression forming on his face. "I wish I could do more for her."

"Me too," you said, reaching up to rub one of his bare upper arms. "But there's only so much we can do. And she'll be better off with parents who are awake enough to tend to her. Come back to bed. Next time she cries, I'll take a turn. It'll probably be because she's hungry anyway."

He hesitated for a moment, but your logic and his fatigue won out. He ran a hand through his sleep tussled hair. "Yeah. Okay."

Marcus trailed you back to your shared bed and you both rolled over onto your sides so you were facing each other.

"You're the best dad," you assured him.

"And you're the best mother," he declared, thumbing your cheek.

You smiled through the fog already creeping back over you, eyes at half mast. "Get more shut eye, honey."

You both fell asleep in record time.

xxx

Tagged: @amyispxnk @harriedandharassed

xxx

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

xxx

#Marcus Pike Fanfic (Mine)#X Reader #Baby Fever Series

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rise-my-angel · 2 years

Text

Matching Insecurity

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Female Reader

Length: 7.8k words

Warnings: angst, angst with a happy ending, fluff, mild smut, implied smut, teasing, masterbation

Notes: Takes place after the movie but isnt integral to the plot of this story

Was it really worth it? Having the wool pulled out from over your eyes worth the coziness of the job? You were surprised honestly to get the call that you had been hired, even thought it was just a low level position it was still in the cities most secure building with the largest of names attached to it. You had applied to a nondescript secretary job, only to show up for your first day to find out it was part secretary work, and part personal assistant work to one specific boss.

The illusion though? Was gone totally the more weeks that passed. The media and online view of the Heroics was one of grandiose importance, larger than life people with attitudes superior to the citizens they protect, only to realize that most times, it was basically just a fancy office. At least where you worked. Your boss, the biggest name of them all mostly worked out of a cozy office and if you didn’t know any better, you’d never have guessed he was famous.

Finding out you would work almost exclusively for Marcus Moreno on your first day almost sent you into a panic attack just out of shock.

You later were informed that extensive checks on you were done to ensure you were a good fit and that’s why little description was given, so they could learn about you without your personal bias. But you were quiet, polite, and way too hard of a worker for what you were being paid, and so they placed you with the head of the Heroics.

Marcus was, so strangely normal. So far you never saw him in anything that wasn’t casually business, and the weapons on his office wall looked more like expensive decoration than an integral part of his power. Always busy with mountains of work, phone calls that had him sharing exasperated looks whenever you walked in on one of them, and late nights where he pestered you to go home already. Saying you didn’t need to stay and work longer, on the days he did.

He mostly stayed late the days his daughter Missy came in after school for junior training. She was always amusing. She’d plop her arms dramatically onto your desk in exhaustion only to lift up with her palm up against her cheek and ask you things. What did you like to eat, do you live alone, what did you like to do outside of work as she compared them to what she and her dad’s answers would be.

“You’re lucky you can bake, my dad and I always try but we always end up just wishing we had someone else there to help us.” There was a twinkly in her eye that said more than what she was letting on, but you chalked it up to her being surrounded constantly by Heroics or ones in training that talking to another normal person probably was a nice break for her.

Marcus finally came out of his office, leather jacket in his hand as he and Missy shared a hug. “Everything go well this time?” His voice was so comfortingly deep you caught yourself thinking.

Missy nodded, “Sort of, at least I got her to agree to give me her water when she gets too upset finally.” Marcus chuckled and smoothed out the top of her hair in a soothing manner. “I’m just glad its leftovers night, I’m way too tired to do anything.”

Marcus leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her head, “You say that as if it’ll get you out of doing the dishes.” He shared a playful grin at her mock glare. She turned to you and waved her arm out to point at him.

“You see what I have to put up with?” Marcus flicked her hair, causing her to nudge his hand away from her in jest as she pretended she wasn’t going to laugh.

You raised your eyebrows and leaned on your arms resting on top of the desk and squinted slightly, whispering as if in secret. “Bring him a coffee with a little more sugar then he normally takes, the extra sweetness calms him right down.”

While you and Missy shared a little laugh, Marcus’s eyes flickered to look at you a little closer. He hadn’t realized you did that, but the pieces started to get put together. On his bad days, or just frustrated moments you tended to bring him something sweeter then normal, or innocently suggest you take up a task that normally would add an extra hour onto his workload. Little things he never once actually asked of you. All it did, was add more fuel to the ever growing emotions he was having more and more trouble keeping at bay.

He couldn’t help but watch you whispering with his daughter, and have his mind flash back to the comments she always ended up making on the drive home, how much she weirdly pushed him on certain things. He had to pull himself out of it as Missy called for him. “Are we ready to go?”

He shook the thoughts away one more. You were just good at your job, and generous just out of who you were as a person. It had nothing to do with him, and he already knew he’d have to distract Missy in the car from trying to bring it up again. He’d ultimately think about it again later tonight, but in a far more inappropriate way that he was starting to feel more and more guilty about the better it felt when you were at the forefront of his mind

Marcus nodded, grabbing her bag to carry himself, and leaned in to you pointing at the jacket hanging on the hook in the corner. “That goes for you too, it’s Friday you shouldn’t be wasting your evening when you’ve been here all day.”

Giving in, you nodded and stood up, stretching your arms up a bit to shake out the stiffness not noticing any eyes on you. “I’m not a big Friday night’s plan with other people kind of girl-” you hesitated just slightly when Marcus’s eyes narrowed at you. To you, you saw what looked like disappointment in a lack of social life, not realizing it was anything drawn from his heart. “Fine, I’ll do..something. I promise, sir.”

Marcus stood unmoving for a moment you didn’t quite get. You wondered if the look he was giving you was just analyzing what a boring assistant he was realizing you were. Getting your stuff ready to leave, you hadn’t noticed Marcus and Missy quietly talking still at your desk until you turned around with your bag. Raising your eyebrows, Marcus waves his hand for you to follow.

Oh. They waited for you to join them as they left? You spent the elevator ride trying not to listen to their conversation, but the deep bass of his voice seemed to echo in the tiny space. Marcus again made the same wave when you tried to stand back so they could leave first, instead forcing you out in step with them.

Your brain focused on the click of your shoes against the lobby floor as you all stepped outside. The chilly air felt both stinging and refreshing on your face. The later seasons always blew in a crisp kind of air that felt somehow fresher than the heavy summertime, your less then thick coat however disagreed with your assessment of the temperature. The conversation next to you catching your attention enough to stay before you decided to try and slip away quietly.

“He kept talking about something something self promotion? I mean I’ve never even been on those sites, where would I even start?” Missy was standing, arms flinging out in exasperation as Marcus leaned down to actually zip her coat up with a flat expression to Missy’s bemused one. Always complaining about getting cold too easily but too lazy to do anything about it, it clearly was a common occurrence but drove Marcus’s protective instinct nuts.

Staying bent down to her level, he sighed, looking at the floor before giving her an earnest look. “I don’t like it. Call me old fashioned dad I know,” Marcus placed a comforting hand on her upper arm. “but that kind of attention at your age is too much for you to handle alone. You’ll have too many eyes always ready to judge you.”

Missy scrunched her face as she thought it over, before her body sagged in a shrug, “I don’t even know how he posts that often, how much could Miracle Guy of all people have that much to say?”

Your breathy laugh caught their attention, Marcus standing back up straight as he looked at you while Missy turned. “You want to know his secret?” Missy furrowed her brows with a tilt of her head in curiosity. “He just gets people like me to post for him, he knows he’s not that creative.”

While Missy laughed at how typical that was for him, Marcus’s look was far more uncertain. That scrutinizing look once more, “He hired you to post for him?”

His train of thought wasn’t anywhere near yours. You shrugged, half not looking at him. “No he just kind of dumped his passwords on me and just requested to make him look good. It’s fun, he’s not exactly hard to figure out.”

You really didn’t see the issue with it, it hadn’t crossed your mind. Technically he was also your superior just giving you another task. Realizing you should have brought gloves, you shove your hands into your pockets and take a few steps downwards, away from the direction of the auto shuttle leading to the secure parking lot. Marcus called your name just before you got away. “You aren’t going this way?”

You felt a little sheepish as he nodded his head in a backwards motion. Your hands clenched and unclenched in a sudden insecurity. “Uh, no..just thought I’d stretch my legs today.”

Marcus almost took a step towards you but seemed to restrain himself. “It’s late though, we can take you home no problem.”

In your chest you felt another pang of insecurity, but brushed it off casually with a smile and shake of your head. “No please, don’t go out of your way it’s fine.” Your legs were asking you to just leave but Marcus’s almost concerned expression pinned you where you were almost by force. If you were thinking clearer, you might have remembered the metal buckles on your shoes that suddenly felt heavier than normal.

“It’s late and it’s freezing, really neither of us mind the detour.”

This time Missy was the one who interjected. “Do you normally walk home?” Oh god her expression matched her fathers perfectly. The last thing you needed was the Moreno duo trying to break your defences down and going out of their way to help you.

You stammered a bit, caught off guard as to why they seemed to care. “Just sometimes..most of the time..” By most of the time you meant every day, but you didn’t feel as if that's the answer they wanted to hear. Marcus’s face grew more tense with every word and you weren’t sure you wanted to hear what he was thinking. “I should go, I uh, I’ll see you...have a good weekend.”

You didn’t turn back as you walked away. Taking the long path to the smaller security gate on the complete opposite side of the lawn than your path home was. If you looked just to the side you could see the shuttle to the parking lot pass, and you instantly bent your head down to stare at the sidewalk below you.

It was embarrassing. That Marcus Moreno, leader of the Heroics with his nice tech filled car and his surprisingly humble sized but still gorgeous house finding out his assistant doesn’t even have a car. At least not driving you home meant you spared yourself the further humiliation of him seeing the run down apartment building you lived in. The outside usually with a few loud, drunk or high smokers making a racket, and the chipped paint and lack of any effort look of the buildings outside.

You didn’t hate it, not even the muffled yelling usually heard through the narrow halls. Tinged in an ugly yellow and orange from the light bulbs partially exposed from their lamp encasement. The building wasn’t nice and you didn’t feel inclined to get to know anyone else living here, but stepping into your own apartment at least relaxed you. It felt lived in and cozy, took a lot of effort to get it like that but the rent was as cheap as you could find and afford so moving wasn’t on your list.

Turns out you lied. To be fair, you did pace around mindlessly to come up with anything fun to do. Even scrolling through yelp to see if anything struck your fancy, but going to a restaurant alone felt embarrassing. You didn’t really drink so a bar wasn’t much of an option either. Being new in this city and putting so much into proving your worth as an assistant really left you terrible at making friends.

It wasn’t until your walk to work on Monday morning that you tried to come up with a convincing fake story so your boss didn’t think you were a complete piece of cardboard. It also struck you why you even cared. He wasn’t just your boss, he was a national hero essentially, helping to run the biggest organization of powered people in the world, what in the world would entice him about you? Deep down you knew why, but admitting what that feeling deep in your heart was would be more difficult than you wanted to deal with.

All morning you had prepared this creative story of a fun, impressive outing with your friends, but by the time you reached your floor, it all became pointless. Instead, you just quietly got settled at your desk without even popping your head into his office to say good morning like usual. Only talking to Marcus when he came to you with work things and just gave short polite answers to anything else. May as well stop daydreaming.

It wasn’t until you finally went through your personal mail stack when you found a contract along with a paycheck. Marcus’s eyes were bright and endearing behind those glasses that framed his face so nicely when you knocked.

Walking in somewhat timidly you put the contract facing him on the desk. “I just saw this now, but uh, I’m not sure exactly what it’s for.” Your hands clasped together in front of you as you tried to discreetly twist your fingers around in anxiety.

Marcus only took one glance at it, before he let out a breathe of a laugh and a smile. “It’s an amendment to your existing contract.” You only furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “I- we added a clause that if you are to have an active role in controlling Miracle Guy’s social media than you should be getting paid extra for it.”

He held the paper up in the air and tapped at the check paper clipped to it with his fingers. “This is the back payment for what you’ve already done.” He tried to look you in the eye as you approached to take it back, but you were actively avoiding it. So he murmured your name to force you to look at him, “You deserve to get paid for your work, okay? You’re great and you should be rewarded for it.”

His gaze was penetrating. Something deep swirling behind it that once again felt as if he was putting a puzzle together. Grasping it gently you avoided your hand getting close to his, your sudden realization and subsequent insecurity of being seen as nothing more than an employee was influencing you to be as distant as possible. “Thank you.”

Marcus tugged it back ever so slightly as he looked at you again, only to let it go just as quick. You only got to the door before he called your name once again. “Your weekend. Did you have a good time?”

No use in lying he was just being polite. So you shrugged one shoulder as your hand gripped the open door, “Not much going on in my circles.” You couldn’t look at him right now, you felt too much like you were six again. A quiet little girl with a crush on your teacher only this time if you get caught, you won’t get a quiet kind conversation about adults and children aren’t compatible that way, you’re just going to find yourself out of a job.

You hadn’t sat down for more than 30 seconds before Marcus barrels out his office, flickering his hand to pull the door closed as he was preoccupied putting his jacket on. He leaned onto the front of your desk and it struck you how he had a soft look about him. “I’ll be out for a while, so uhm, please take a long lunch for yourself, no need to worry yourself until I get back, okay?”

You nodded gently, “Will do, sir.”

Marcus’s eyes narrowed at the formality, but he tapped at your desk before pushing off and heading directly for the elevator, only catching a glimpse of him suddenly pulling his phone out urgently before the doors shut.

You were terrible at this, by the time Marcus got back you were so engrossed in a report that your food sat in it’s container, untouched and not even warmed up yet. He approached much more calm than he left, so you didn’t catch his soft footsteps until his large frame shadowed your desk. “You’re back, is everything okay?”

Marcus looked at you before looking at the container. Letting out a loud sigh and his head tilted to the side in an unreadable irritation. He opened and shut his mouth a few times before relenting. He simply reached over and shut off your monitor.

You spun in your chair and raised your arms in question, but he only gestured to your food. He didn’t even have to say it, you just let out a deep breathe and grabbed it. Walking past his warm frame, he laid a gently hand on your waist before pulling away as soon as you turned. “Please just sit down and enjoy yourself, stop trying to do everything in one day.”

Maybe if this wasn’t the day you were plagued with sudden insecurity, you wouldn’t have completely misread his tone. You lowered your gaze and nodded before walking away. Worried thoughts swimming through your head that maybe you were doing too much, and that you weren’t performing up to standards because of it and this was his polite frustration in your work quality.

Marcus on the other hand has never seen you so downtrodden. Your normally quiet disposition now bordered on shy or uncomfortable. Biting the inside of his cheek, he once again reminded himself of the plan. It might be too abrasive if he did it, he just had to reel in this growing impatience and let Missy play the part she seemed suspiciously eager to do.

Truth be told, he was out of his depth on this one. He had been on his own for quite a few years now and in that time he had very little interest in anything or anyone besides raising his daughter. When he was told he’d they had hired someone to be his personal assistant and secretary he didn’t expect anything.

It wasn’t until you walked into the meeting room and Marcus felt that tightening in his stomach that felt foreign at that point. You were so easy to be smitten with, you were quiet, always happy to help or support anyone, you were so incredibly pretty with eyes he would fall into every time you spoke to him.

He was conflicted though, for more than one reason. First he was your boss and the last thing he wanted was for you to feel taken advantage of, but also his own guilt. Realizing he was starting to emotionally move on from that stage of grief, that he was finally having those feelings again felt strange. Especially when he thought of Missy.

The one thing that dating again always scared him was the idea that Missy would think he’s trying to replace her mother, or forget about her. She was much younger when they both lost her, and Missy has mostly grown up solely with Marcus. Would introducing someone else interrupt that harmony? The weirdest part really was how much she pushed as soon as she got out of him one day to admit he liked you.

Thankfully, she had more tact than him in being direct. Coming in after school, Missy came right up to your floor and loudly dropped her bag right beside your desk. Head shooting up, you had a real smile finally at the sight of her arms crossed on the wood with her head fitted neatly into the middle of them. “Is there something I can do for you, miss?”

You were returned a mischievous grin, pushing up a bit on her palms and tilting her head with wide eyes in a very Marcus manner. “So I’ve heard that restaurant you like is doing pretty well..”

Raising your eyebrows you put your elbows on the desk, hands tucked under your chin as your eyes narrowed playfully. “Oh? And which one would that be exactly?” You could see the temporary panic as the gears in her head turned. For a brief moment she looked behind you for a second, to quick to turn your own head before she found her answer.

“That ugly one shoved between the old bookstore and some empty building that somehow always smells like fresh bread.” The cheeky grin was enough to almost make you laugh. You circled in your chair as she came around to the side to see you better.

“And what per say Missy, are you suggesting I do about it?”

Her answer was immediate and confident. “You come to dinner with us.” That wasn’t what you expected honestly. As you were taken back, Marcus appeared by you two as he and Missy greeted each other before he turned to you with a soft look.

“We’d love to have you join us.” Seeing your hesitant look he clarified. “Only if you’re comfortable, but we just thought it’d be nice to take you out, outside of work.”

Missy leaned into her fathers side in a nudge, “He might feel that way, but I’m certainly not taking no for an answer.” Marcus scolded her quietly with a rush of her name as she stood with no shame. His head leaned down to her suddenly look up at you, and those wide eyes suckered your dumb self back in.

You inhaled a noticeable breathe, “Only if you guys are sure, you know for me to join-”

Marcus interrupted before a continued train of thought could doubt you more. “I- we’re absolutely sure.”

Missy didn’t skip a beat. “Great, we can all go together when my lesson wraps up?”

Oh absolutely not, you needed time to shake off this gloom over your head that followed you all day. You shook your head with a tight lipped smile. “I uhm, I have a few things at home I have to do first, I can just meet you there it’s not far.” Marcus was about to object but you insisted. “Really, I know when she about wraps up, I’ll just meet you two.”

Curious doubt was plastered on both Moreno’s faces, but Missy did have to leave and Marcus didn’t want to linger in case you started to feel pressured to go. You left early, but not before a gentle reminder from Marcus of the time, and once again asking if you were sure he couldn’t pick you up.

Denied again. The reminder of the run down cheapness of your apartment still lingered your feelings of inadequacy.

It had taken about five shirts tossed carelessly onto your bed before landing on the one you hated the least out of the bunch. It almost felt stupid to try and do yourself up, what point would spending extra time making your hair look pretty, or fussing with what makeup didn’t make you just look like you were trying too hard. A change of clothes you suppose was all that was worth it.

The walk was cold, the evenings dropping to almost freezing temperatures as soon as it gets dark. Your cheeks stung from the cold and no doubt your eyes looked a little red from walking in the winds path. You were the first to get there, not really a surprise, you had a tendency to get anywhere early. It was though, a thought of if you should wait inside or out. Worrying if you waited inside you’d look impatient or uncaring, you leaned partially against the prick wall, hands shoved into your pockets firmly as your body fidgeted on its own accord trying to keep from getting too cold.

You heard them before you saw them, a laughing back and forth as they turned a corner. Missy tucked purposely into Marcus’s side no doubt shielding her from the wind. As soon as you were spotted, a concerned look splashed over his features and he rushed in front of you. “Jesus, it’s freezing you didn’t need to wait out here for us like this.”

You tried laughing it off but his concern remained. “I’m okay, I barley noticed it.”

In a move you didn’t expect, Marcus almost without thinking reached to gently cup your cheek, his thumb running over the obviously cold skin. “Your body says otherwise.” Oh boy, did he even realize what this combination felt like? Those words coming out of his deep voice mixed with a gentle touch? You felt almost overwhelmed, his large hand was so comfortingly warm on your face, his finger tips rough from so many years leading his team in the field. Your mouth opened slightly with a tiny intake of a gasp, too engrossed in a touch you had never really gotten to give him an answer.

When you didn’t immediately respond, Marcus pulled his hand away, but did only drop it to your side and slid to your lower back to start moving you to go inside where it’s warm. As you talked briefly to the hostess, you missed Missy and Marcus sharing a look that spoke a language all on it’s own.

Dinner, was surprisingly normal. There wasn’t any stiff formality or undertones of being at work or with your boss. No it just felt like having dinner with two people you’ve known for a while. There was a strategy at play here, Missy talked and prompted things to smooth out any awkwardness, but always handed the reigns over to her dad and let the two of you get engrossed in whatever you were talking about.

It was really nice, the anxiety and insecurity fading more and more with every laugh or smile you shared with him, and for a while you got to forget the things that plagued you all day. You both made fun of how big the portions were, than laughed together in success when Missy finally gave in and admitted she needed a take out box for the rest of it after stuffing herself past full.

Taking off unceremoniously to the washroom, the quiet between you and Marcus matched with the coziness of the booth and dim lighting above felt much more intimate than anything you shared with him at work. He rubbed his hands together for a moment, taking a peek around to see if anyone was watching before turning back to you with a gentle murmur of your name.

“Listen I, Missy shouldn’t have been the one to ask you here. I wanted to ask you myself, but..I’m just, not used to this anymore.” Your face went from a gentle confusion quickly to a look of pain. Seeing him in such a domestic setting, you realized it was so easy to forget that a giant part of their hearts were missing.

“Really, it was very sweet of you-both of you. I’m still new so I don’t have many in the friend department, but you’re my boss I didn’t think I should be bothering you with that. You were just asking to be polite, you didn’t have to do any of this.” Your voice was quiet, a bit timid but with an underlining confidence that you knew telling him the truth was the best.

Marcus put an arm flat across the table almost about to gently grasp your wrist, “Wait that’s not-”

In a small rushed out sentence you threw your hands out almost defensively, “No it’s fine really, I get it. If I burn myself out, I’m not doing you much good am I?”

Marcus was quiet. His brown eyes looking deep into yours as he stewed in his thoughts. Your hands had fallen back down, fingers fidgeting against each other much like you did when you were nervous in his office. His gaze finally made a slow path down from your eyes. Not a linger that felt creepy, his eyes barley even focused on anything but staring down at your nervous hands.

“Marcus, sir, I- I apologize I didn’t mean make things uncomfortable.”

Marcus’s breath hitched noticeably at being called sir, but for reasons you wouldn’t discover tonight at least. He watched your hands as he slowly murmured to you in a soft, delicate tone. “You always do that.” His hands slid forward a tad on the table, “You finally open up, and I get to see you just as you are until you remind yourself of your job, and you clam right back up like the first day we met.”

Finally his slow moving hands reached their destination. His fingers hovering so lightly over yours you could almost feel his touch yet not at all. “I didn’t want to ask you out for anything other than wanting to spend time with you.”

When you didn’t pull away he finally inched the final stretch and let his fingers trace over the skin of your wrist and hand. He was so warm it almost felt like he left a burn of his touch whenever his hand moved to another spot. His sudden raise of his head caught your attention. “I’m sorry about today. I just started overthinking things, and I guess I was...”

Your eyes trailed away with your voice, you hadn’t noticed your pinky reaching out and like the weight of a feather, traced over Marcus’s own hand. All you could feel was the harshness in your throat at opening up. “I was doubting myself, maybe I was reading into things but we just-”��

“Get along perfectly.” Your eyes met again, yours bordering on a bit of the sting that was typically followed by a feeling of choked up. Marcus’s was more warm this time. Unable to hide your gasp when he finally grasped your hand, just at your fingers as his thumb ran over them. “I haven’t felt anything for someone like this since her mom, I was worried today when you were so distant that I was overstepping. It’s easy to forget you work for me when I just look forward to seeing you everyday.”

You whispered his name, and it was almost obvious your heart was racing more. “I know it’s complicated, and you don’t talk to anyone else there the way you did me, and I didn’t know if I just fooled myself into seeing something that wasn’t there.”

“I like you.” His hand gripped yours tighter, unwilling to let go of your softness in that moment as he laid his heart out for you. “You can tell me no or to piss off if you want, but I do like you. A lot. The last thing I want is to scare you off, but if you ever decide your comfortable with it, I want to take you out. Properly like you deserve.”

Your heart filled up, it was such an odd feeling. This strange new life, and job and a whirlwind of emotions towards Marcus that realizing that this small intimate bubble you two worked in wasn’t just a childish fantasy you made up. You almost jumped when moving to cross your thumb with his only to be interrupted by someone knocking into your table as they passed by without so much as a sorry.

Your jump knocked yourself out of his hands, but Marcus stayed regardless. His head turning to watch Missy’s incredulous face at the people who had walked by only to realize what she may have walked in on. About to make an excuse to give you more time alone, Marcus beckoned her over with a fake annoyed tone. Yanking her into his side he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, mumbling something in Spanish that you couldn’t quite make out as she responded with a look you could only describe as proud of herself.

It made you laugh honestly. The tense overload of emotion simmered down back to a domesticity that seemed to very naturally fit all three of you. Finally relenting it was time to leave, Marcus had paid before you got the chance to even get your card out.

You turned and looked at him with a wide eyed amused look, and he was close enough to feel his breath on your face as he smiled back as he spoke. “You’re not paying even if you’re the one who asks me out next, okay? I was supposed to be treating you.”

A lightness in your chest filled you up, as you found the courage to smirk back. “If we’re playing by those rules, technically it was Missy who asked me out.” Your voice had lowered to a mocking whispered taunt and if his bemused eyebrow raise was anything to go on, you might be starting to accept he does at the very least enjoy you for you.

Missy on the other hand had her hands on her hips with a little pout, “I played matchmaker, if anything you should be paying me for my services.” Missing the incredulous look on Marcus’ face you knelt down to her eye level.

“Instead how about I pay you a free fresh baked dessert of your choice? I know you’re a sucker for soft cookies.” You and Missy both focused on each other, you definitely missed Marcus’s eyes flowing down to your ass before blinking whatever thoughts arose out of his expression and moving to stand beside both of you.

Her eyes narrowed as she contemplated the bargain. “Only if I get to eat some of the batter before you use it all.”

Marcus taking advantage of the offer as a hopeful plea of being able to spend more time with you. “La cocina de Morales is fully stocked and open all weekdays and weekends.” Your head looked up to him, before standing to your full height to better see his gentle eyes towards you. “You’re welcome over any day of the week.”

His tone less joking and sounding much more like an offer had warmth flowing from your heart out into your veins. You intended to answer jokingly, but what came out first was far from it. “You really don’t have to do that, I don’t want to intrude.”

Marcus took a small step forward, “Never.”

Both of you noticing more of a crowd starting to enter the lobby, you three quickly made your way back onto the cold streets. Without realizing it, you had begun to walk with them to the parking lot as if you were unwilling to let go of this little world you had finally felt with him.

It wasn’t until you were standing beside his car, as Missy opened the door to slide inside keeping the door open, asking Marcus if she could turn on the heat. Saying yes, he turned back to you as you looked up to him nervously before starting to fidget in place. “I guess uh, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Your face was wide eyed and hesitant, not at all matching the introspective gears turning inside Marcus’s head. “Let me at least drive you home.” His hand finding a home on your upper arm as he leaned closer, your name slipping from his mouth. “Please, it’s freezing out. I’d feel better knowing you can get home safe.”

“Marcus, I uhm...it’s not that I don’t- I mean I’m just not sure you-”

Cut off by his hand, somehow still warm despite the cold air, finding a place on your cheek. “You know I don’t look down on you for where you live right? It’s not at all what I would call a safe area but that doesn’t change how I see you.”

By your confused look, Marcus’s face turned sheepish. “Your address is in your file, I may have taken a look at the place a few weeks ago.” His hand slid from you cheek down to the side of your neck with only his thumb high enough to stroke the skin of your jaw under it. “I overheard you saying once that your neighbors made you uncomfortable but it was the only thing you could afford. I just wanted to know if you were okay or not.”

Missy at this point had poked her head out of the open door, “You could always come home with us and take advantage of the fireplace?”

Marcus turned his head saying her name in a warning. Grimacing she relented and got back into the car. You nodded when he looked back at you with an apology on his lips. “Okay, driving me home doesn’t sound too bad.”

A relieved smile graced his face, lighting up every handsome feature in an instant. “Good, great. Come on, Missy’s probably cranked the heat enough it’ll be a sauna at his point.” His hand fell to your waist as he turned you and opened the door for you.

Sure enough it was comically warm in the car. Marcus on the drive commenting how he didn’t understand how Missy could stand having the seat warmers on max for so long. It was a nice drive, but you knew you were being quiet. Not only did he know where you live, but that it wasn’t what you would call a decent area. You felt your stomach whirl at the prospect of being embarrassed once more by your differences, and wanting to feel giddy that he checked it out of worrying for your well being.

Luckily when you drove up, the outside was mostly empty spare a lone smoker desperately trying to get his lighter to cooperate. Missy turning partially to look at you with a smile, but this time less mischievous and much more small and shy. “I’m really happy you had fun with us tonight.”

Smiling at her you undid your seat belt and stroked the hair at the top of her head for just a second. “Me too. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

You weren’t sure of you meant just the days she comes up to her father’s office or if the invite to their house was genuine. Part of you still felt that insecurity of taking a place in their lives that you had no right too.

“Let me walk you over.” Marcus getting out as you walked side by side, arms brushing against the other. Your head down slightly shaking away the conflict rising inside, as Marcus eyed the rough state of the building with a harder scrutinizing look. He didn’t feel good leaving you in an unsafe area and a less than reliable apartment complex, but he knew his protective feelings towards you needed to be eased in slowly. He didn’t quite think it would scare you off completely, but he also didn’t want to come across as possessive about where you lived.

Getting to the front door, you turned to thank him for the evening only to discover he was much closer to you than before. “I had a good time Marcus, really.”

A more gentle smile graced his features, his palm one again filling your cheek with a thrilling warmth. “Listen, I know me being your boss could complicate somethings, but I need you to still know that I’m not trying to take advantage of you. This isn’t about what you do, it’s just...I’m not used to having feelings for someone again, but I don’t want to go back to pretending they don’t exist for you.”

Your own hand raised to cover part of his wrist and your hand. “If you want to stop, or take things slow I completely understand. The last thing I want is for you to feel like I’m trying to replace-”

He stepped in even closer, his lips so close to brushing against yours as he spoke. “You’re not. I promise you, sweetheart. You’re not.”

Watching his eyes flicker down to your lips, you held your breathe. The need in your heart feeling overwhelming yet unreal. Marcus though, didn’t quite have the same resistance.

At first his lips just barley brushed over yours, testing how okay you were with him, but as soon as he felt you start to lightly kiss him back it was as if a spark was lit inside of him. His grasp on your cheek held firmer as his other hand grasped at your waist pulling you in slightly.

His kiss was greedy but his mouth was unbearably soft and addictive. By instinct your hands gravitated to him. One hand sliding barley over his neck and collarbones while the other sat at his waist just keeping you upright against his growing need.

Marcus lost himself in your lips, his tongue gently teasing at you, giving your bottom lip a nip and taking advantage of the high pitched gasp to slip his tongue into your mouth. You let him dominate the kiss, the only brush you returned was as he explored your own.

It was only when his grip slipped to your hips, and stopped himself before he pulled them into his own. Taking your time to slow back down to a simmer, Marcus only pulled away after going back for one last small kiss.

Your eyes shut and chest heaving to catch the breathe he stole from you, Marcus tilted your head up to look him in the eye. “Be safe, please. I’ll pick you up in the morning, okay?”

Trying to resist you pulled away only to find yourself unable to overpower his strength. “Marcus, it’s okay, you don’t need to go out of your way just for me.”

Instead of any annoyance he smiled. Leaning in to brush his lips against yours as he spoke. “Quite the opposite. I just need a little extra time alone with you before I have to share your company again.”

Finally agreeing, he set the time he’d be there. You noting it was earlier then either of you needed to arrive there, you couldn’t help but feel a growing heat at his eyes looking over you. He left one last kiss on your lips.

He watched you at the door until you disappeared from sight up the stairs. No doubt he was about to hear it from Missy. Whatever inside of him kept flashing back to her mother, it seemed to be buried deeper down inside her. Marcus at first thought it was the feeling of betraying his wife when he no longer could deny how much he liked you.

But now he knew it was something a bit different. It was getting used to feeling alright in finding love again, getting used to the freedom to find happiness again after so many years of pushing it away. Missy might be more complicated, she was young when they lost her and she’s grown up mostly without a mother. That might be something to slowly be unpacked later. For now he felt happy, and so did she and for the Morales duo that was all that mattered right now.

It wasn’t until after you got out of the shower you saw a text from Marcus. He had never texted you before, only ever called. You bit your lip as you approached, a child like glee as you opened the message.

“Tell me if it’s too much, but I already started to miss you.”

It wasn’t too much. Something about him felt different, like he wouldn’t hurt you in ways others had before. So you kept him at ease, not wanting him to think you were apprehensive about it. The insecurity existed, but putting that on him wasn’t what you wanted.

“Missing me, or just missing my lips?”

He responded right away, as if at the ready for when you finally opened his first text. “Trust me I miss more than just your lips right now.”

There was a smile as you typed this out, it was a risk but you could still feel the weight of his tongue sliding over yours and it had kept your body in a state. “So you’re saying I shouldn’t tell you that I only read this right after getting out of the shower?”

Once again, right away. “Don’t start, baby. I’ll give you what you need, but only if you’re good enough to wait for it.” There certainly was more to this man then his kind look gave away.

You almost fell back onto the couch. How on earth were you supposed to just act like nothings changed tomorrow morning? “Do I get rewarded if behave like a good girl?”

Marcus’s resolve would shatter the next morning when he sees you. His original plan was to take you out for coffee, but after that message shot straight down to his cock, he wasn’t going to be able to resist the need to feel your lips and your bare skin against his. Luckily you had a boss that wouldn’t care if you were late.

“You tread carefully, sweetheart. You have no idea what kind of talk that’s going to get you into.”

“I’m looking forward to finding out, Marcus.”

“Me too. Now go get some sleep, I want you to feel refreshed when I finally get you all to myself tomorrow morning.”

If only you knew just how much both of you would take full advantage of being alone together.

Marcus Moreno was afterall, a constant surprise.

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