#😭😭 it’s so??? MAYBE RENDERING DARK CLOTHES IS JUST HELL FOR ME

[ashipiko]

would you draw... a single august a3! 🤲

<3 of COURSE user augustmishas

WOULD AUGUST DO A THUMBS UP. sure hope so

[marc-spectorr]

Callie, my looooooove, are you still doing the blurbs??? If so, can I have this line: "I can't pretend anymore" + Marc Spector?? 🥺🥺🥺

pairing: marc spector x reader

warnings: slight angst with a happy end :)

a/n: sorry for the delay!! writing has been so difficult to do lately but hopefully i can work through the rest of these prompts 😭

It's such a cliché, Marc thinks. Him standing outside your flat in the middle of the night, waiting for you to answer the door with his clothes drenched from the pouring rain, but he couldn't bring himself to care. 

He knows better. He knows that if he doesn't do this now, he may never work up the courage to do so again.

The sound of the locks undoing on the other side fills the silent air. Marc's heart pounds in his chest. All the words he's rehearsed over and over start fading to the back of his mind.

It takes you maybe ten seconds to open the door, but the moment seems to last longer than that. 

And when he finally sees you, he's suddenly rendered mute.

"Marc? It's one in the morning, and you're soaked to the bone," you say through a thick haze of exhaustion, your eyes barely open.

He feels guilty for disturbing you.

"I know, and I'm sorry," Marc breathes out too quickly and too low. "But I-I couldn't sleep."

Your brows knit together as you look up at Marc, confused. He half-expects you not to care. Hell, he seemingly didn't care about your feelings when he decided to ignore you for the past month and a half. It wouldn't surprise him if you told him to leave you alone and shut the door in his face. He deserves it.

"Why not? And why come over all the way here? I thought you were mad at me."

That tears a hole in Marc's heart. He could never be mad at you, yet it's the impression he had left when he began pushing you away with no explanation. 

He wholly regrets it now.

Marc swallows, the question not lost to him, but he doesn't say anything out loud despite the answer already sitting on his tongue. He mulls over it again and again, the reason why he's here. What has caused him to be distant to you— caused him many restless nights. 

Why couldn't he sleep? Simply put, it's because of you. 

He loves you, and it scared the hell out of him. 

So Marc ran. He ran as far away as he could, thinking that the distance would help. Hoping that these feelings would fade in time but all it did was make things worse.

He ended up hurting you— leaving you in the dark and putting the blame on yourself as the reason why he had gone.

God, he hated himself for that the most.

"I didn’t mean it. I-I didn’t mean to make you feel that way," Marc replies solemnly. His voice is soft and tender, almost like the way your gaze takes him in. "I'm sorry for everything."

"I-I don't understand… what–"

Marc strains away from the last bit of cowardice holding him back. With a shaky exhale, he steps forward, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek, warmth immediately spreading throughout his palm.

Your gentle eyes graze over his features; he could see traces of worry in them.

"Marc…" You whisper his name, and only then does he realize how close you are— how close your lips almost touch.

"I can't pretend anymore," he confesses, his breaths mingling with yours. 

Marc slowly closes what little gap there is between you with a chaste kiss, one that is as soft and sweet as you are.

When you start kissing him back not too long after, relief loosens his tense muscles, replaced by something so warm and delicate. Something familiar, something that is just you.

The kiss deepens until you soon break away for air. Marc forgets how sopping wet he is still— dripping curls sticking to his forehead as his sodden clothes cling onto him uncomfortably.

But none of that matters. 

Nothing does, except for you.

"You never have to pretend with me," you murmur into his skin, gentle like a comforting caress. 

Marc can't help the slip of a smile on his lips as he holds your hand in his.

He’s there now.

And he’s there to stay.