#c;marcus

The evening for the festival had gotten far more rowdy than he was fond of. He’d already been fed upon one time that night and he reached up to scratch over the bite marks at his neck. They would heal in due course-- but it didn’t mean that he enjoyed the feeling of walking around with the clear sign that he had already been used once that night. It either meant people were going to leave him alone or they were going to take it as invitation to do more. The slave had his arms crossed over his broad chest as he walked before he found himself spying a familiar face. He approached the man slowly and offered a smile, “Good evening, sir. May I get a drink for you?”

Marcus gripped the man’s upper arm, tugging him towards the hallway away from everyone else. “Look, I’ll sell you whatever you want, but you seem like a good guy and I think you might wanna think about what you’re doing.” His face was hard and cold. He shouldn’t be doing this, but he hated seeing people throw their lives away for a high.

   So when Marcus had made an appearance, he had attempted to move from his sight only to be caught by the arm. “Let me the fuck go.” He growled at the man before he was being guided. He wanted back to the party, back to the alcohol and maybe something stronger. Instead-- he was guided to a private room and he was hissing at the other as he was let go. “Go the fuck away, Marcus. I don’t want to see you.”

Marcus raised his eyebrows as he watched Archie through the night. The boy was clearly high. Marcus felt bad, he was the one selling it, but that was his job as an undercover cop. He licked over his lips, eyes trailing down the other’s body without thinking about it. He was cute. His red hair caused him to stand out and Marcus had been staring for awhile now. Standing up, the cop approached the boy and smiled easily, his hand outstretched. “Hey there... I’m Marcus. It’s nice to meet you, kid.” He had been in town for a few weeks, pretending to be some long lost cousin of some random family.

Eleanor hated violence. At the age of 16, she was more interested in fire than blood. And when her older brother, who was 17 came shuffling into the house, a large bruise on his cheek, it left her confused and extremely furious.

“What the fuck is that?” She demanded, Noah’s eyes widening the moment he noticed Eleanor. “I, uh.” Noah sputtered out. Eleanor’s face formed into a scowl. “Don’t lie to me, Noah. Who fucking did that to you?!” She growled.

It didn’t take long for her to find out what exactly happened when Marcus shuffled in just a few steps behind him, just as beaten and bloody as her brother. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?” She began, her gaze locking on Marcus. Within a second, her fingers locked around Noah’s wrist, and she pulled him into the bathroom. “Get into another fight, and I swear to god, you’ll have one more waiting for you when you get home, you hear me?” She spat out, wetting a wash cloth for her sibling. “Take care of yourself, I’ll be back.” She muttered, glancing back up and to Marcus.

She closed the bathroom door behind herself, shoving the ginger into the wall. “What the fuck, Red? You think that it’s cheeky and cute to get my brother into a fight? Let him get roughed up like that?” Eleanor was rambling, and she knew it. But she was furious. How dare he allow this to happen to Noah.

It was a spur of the moment type thing. He just wouldn’t shut up. And to be quite honest, Eleanor could careless about whether or not Wolverine was better than Charles Xavier. She was nerdy, but not into that type of nerdy shit. Besides. Wolverine was far cooler. 

Her lips were placed over his within three seconds. As soon as he brought up that she only liked Wolverine because he was attractive. She pressed him back into the wall, and the kiss took a far more deep turn than she expected. Though her lips were away from his five seconds later. He looked absolutely confused, “Will you be quiet now? I want to watch the movie.” She grumbled.

His smirk and question set her off a bit more than it should, and she could feel her ego building a bit. “Aw, Red? Are you into the vanilla chapstick?” She questioned, a soft giggle leaving her lips. But she didn’t wait very long for his answer before her lips pressed against his once more, her nails digging into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him close to her.