Sheriff Marcus x Reader

Twenty-Five

With a loud creak, the heavy wooden door opened and gave way to the stuffy, warm inside of the bar.

Skeptically you looked around in the dim green light.

The atmosphere was anything but pleasant. Grim eyes watched the two of you. Cigarette smoke was in the air.

People in old, shabby clothes sat at the round tables, armed and ready to kill anything they didn't like.

Marcus, however, was not impressed by the dangers and walked ahead to find a place at the bar with you.

The bartender gave him a quick glance, then looked you up and down.

Marcus shook his head, signaling him to shut up with a grim look.

"Two beers and some food to get us started.", Marcus said, tossing extra coins on the counter.

He preferred to play it safe. His visits to this bar were not infrequent, usually coming after Silco had gotten on his last nerve. Granted, it may not have been his best idea to bring you here, but in Piltover, as sheriff, he couldn't afford to walk the streets drunk.

Besides, the influence of the alcohol brought an insatiable craving to eat fried things that were only available in the Undercity.

Marcus had no idea until this day what exactly it was that he ate in quantities every time he was drunk, but it tasted good and satisfied his cravings.

Actually, he hated everything about Zaun. Everything except what this bar had to offer, deep fried and served with watery booze.

With a growl, the bartender dropped the bowl of weird fried tentacle-like stuff on the counter and pushed two big mugs of beer after it.

Eagerly, you took one and chugged it down without faltering.

Impressed, Marcus watched you do this while he was finally able to consume the delicacies.

"After all those years, you still did not learn some manners.", he noted, mouth full.

With a grin you put the mug down and had to hold in a burp.

He frowned, halfway disgusted and halfway shaking his head over how weird you were.

With an apologetic grin, you shrugged. You eyed the food skeptically.

"What is this?", you asked, tapping one of the things carefully with your finger. "Is it alive? Is it dead? I don't know what I'd prefer."

He offered you one.

"It's really good. Give it a try.", he wanted to shove it into your mouth, but you refused.

"The question is, will it kill me slowly from the inside? Seriously grumpy, I need to know if the last thing I'm feeling will be a... tentacle thingy... moving through my insides before I meet my maker."

Rolling his eyes he had to suppress a grin.

"Just try it.", he said.

"Fine...", you opened your mouth but stopped before chewing. "Please tell me there's nothing inside..."

"Crunch from the outside, soft seafood from the inside. I think..."

"No slimy stuff?"

"No slimy stuff."

With your eyes tightly shut, you bit down on it, only to be pleasantly surprised by the crunchy but not dry coating. It tasted a bit like flour, mixed with something spicy that came awfully close to the taste of dark beer mixed with chilli. It was good, you couldn't deny that.

"Holy shit.", you grabbed another one.

Smiling in a way as if to say he told you so, Marcus chuckled and emptied his beer to order another round.

The time flew by.

Laughing, you let Marcus tell you everything that had happened during your absence, how his training days as an enforcer were, his stupid love stories and all, while the alcohol flowed and the mood improved.

It was already a little harder to sit upright, as someone suddenly interrupted the conversation.

With tired eyes, Marcus looked up at the man who had stood in front of him and now cast a large shadow over both of you. He had already drunk quite a bit himself. The color in his face was stronger now, as if his blood circulation was finally working properly.

Briefly, he eyed the stranger from top to bottom. He knew the guy, just one of Silco's many men.

"I paid for everything.", Marcus said, clearly, so that his opposite understood that he had already paid the extra money for closed eyes, ears and mouths.

The bartender behind the counter nodded to confirm the statements.

But the man had no interest in the hush money.

Roughly, he grabbed Marcus by the collar of his shirt and dragged him from his chair.

Out of reflex, your hand jumped forward to grab the man's wrist and squeeze tightly.

Suddenly everything went silent. All eyes were on you.

With a threateningly peaceful grin, you stood up. Warmth tickled your through your spine and it felt like magic was about to take control again.

"I don't think that's yours to take.", you said, freeing Marcus. "Today he is mine. Do you have a problem with that, big boy?"

The man frowned in confusion.

"He shouldn't be here.", he growled, and pushed you away. "Not when he's not needed."

You slammed into the counter. With the impact you knock over the mugs of beer. Everything got wet, covering your hands and boots with sticky, half warm alcohol.

"Asshole.", you growled, convinced by the alcohol that it was a good idea to pick a fight.

Behind you, Marcus straightened his back. His eyes jumped through the room, counting the people. As he raised his fists, he looked strangely convinced that this was an easy win.

"I'll take the right?", he asked, his eyes fixed on the guy in front of him. "Watch my back."

Chuckling, you jumped to his side. Blue sparks rose from your skin. Your (H/C) hair slightly danced as if a breeze stroked through the strands. The magic inside of you awoke. Senses sharpened and eyes narrowed.

"I bet you fifty bucks I can take more than you, grumpy.", you said and let a bag of coins fall onto the counter. "Or are you chickening out?"

With a laugh, Marcus threw a glance over to you.

"You insult me, (Y/N).", his biceps tensed, revealing how fit he really was. "I'm not gonna loose against a midget like you."

You chuckled.

"Bet, meatball!"