#steven grant x reader angst

[loud-mouth-loser]

not him - 3

summary: you meet steven for tea...

pairing: marc spector? x reader, steven grant? x reader

tags: angst, feelings, confusion, miscommunication, tension, cliffhanger, all the good things we hate, an incredible use of italics and em dashes, no marc :(

wc: 2.4k

note: hey...it's been (checks the blog) a year and a few months...hi...

ch. 1 | ch. 2

[an extended author's note is at the end of the chapter to avoid spoilers!]

---

Your POV

Warmth seeps into the pads of your fingertips as you clutch the paper coffee cup in front of you. You initially ordered a medium iced coffee, but when your name was called you were presented with a hot cup of something else. 

You took it without complaint, eyes briefly glancing along the long line by the register before returning to the misspelled name scribbled onto the side of the cup. You’re sure the baristas are overworked, so as long as it’s caffeinated and palatable, you’ll be fine.

Some may call you spineless because of this, but you like to think you’re just…easygoing, flexible – able to adapt to unexpected changes without too much fuss. But now, with those soft brown eyes staring back at you from across the table, you realize that change is harder to face than you initially thought.

Steven has his usual Earl Grey steaming in a lidless cup next to a pile of tea-blotted napkins. He already found a way to spill his drink on the table before taking a single sip. He mumbled a censored curse, quickly using three folded napkins to soak up the herbal puddle before it could drip to the floor. 

You couldn’t help but watch silently as he cleaned up the mess, his dark brows furrowing as he evaluated the table that separated the two of you. His eyes flashed with a brief spark of harshness directed at the empty space before him, masking over his usual gentle look. You could see the flood of self-reproaching thoughts that rushed through his mind as he pushed the soggy mess to the side. The short bout of frustration painted on his face immediately reminded you of Marc –

And suddenly you're reintroduced to the issue at hand.

Other than the portion of tea on the napkins, Steven’s drink is full, sitting there untouched as he looks back at you like he’s waiting for you to start the conversation. As if he wasn’t the one who invited you out. You’re used to him babbling through the silence, even if the conversation holds no substance.

You fiddle with the cafe’s logo sticker on your cup, peeling it off halfway before pressing it back, an attempt to distract you from looking back up at him. You can feel his stare backing you into a corner. 

Thoughts rush through your mind as an unfamiliar tension surrounds the two of you. 

He doesn’t know, right? 

No, he can’t.

Marc was fronting last night and Steven went to bed early. It’s not like he’d tell him anyway. 

Why would he?

– 

Steven’s POV

“Good day at work?” Your voice comes out softer than he’s used to, hesitant…testing – as if you haven’t heard yourself speak since you left his flat. 

“Work?” Steven takes a sip of his drink — not because he’s thirsty, but to buy himself some time to come up with an excuse for why he missed work today.  He winces slightly from the heat of the tea. He can’t lie to you, but he can try to soften the truth. “Right, I-um…” And the truth was: Marc decided to use one of his rare vacation days to mope around because of what happened the previous night. “...slept through my alarm again today.” 

You finally look up from your cup and meet his stare, eyes rounded with concern. “Steven.” He scratches the back of his neck, feeling guilty for lying to you, but you interpret his sheepish expression as a response to your usual soft scolding about him missing work. “Donna is not going to be happy. You’ve already missed a handful of shifts this month!” Donna, his manager, has always been hard on him – no matter how many extra shifts he picks up or how late he stays, it’s never good enough for her. 

Steven hides his small relieved smile as he watches you fuss over him, murmuring about different ways he could get a better night's rest or the various alarm clocks that you’ve read about. It’s only now that he notices the warm feeling he gets when you worry about him. 

“It’s okay, I just called in sick last minute.” This time he isn’t lying, he did call in once he got the body back, but Donna wasn’t happy to hear about it. But really, when is she ever happy to hear from him?

“This is coming out of your paycheck, Stevie.”

Oh, how he hates that nickname…

But he doesn’t want to think about that now, he’ll deal with the consequences of Marc’s actions later. 

Right now, he wants to deal with…the consequences of Marc’s other actions.

You reach across the table and take his free hand, a comforting gesture you’ve often used in the past to capture his attention whenever you sense his mind is racing with hundreds of thoughts. 

“Alright, but if you want, I could call you in the morning to wake you up? I’m already up at that time anyway.” 

Steven almost flinches when you wrap your fingers around his. He can’t help but stare down at your touch. Your hand is so soft, and warm, his eyes flit to your face, just like your li– 

Wait, what is he thinking? That wasn’t even him! 

You’ve done this countless times before, so why does this feel different all of a sudden?

—

Your POV

You watch curiously as his gaze grows distant, “Steven?” You softly squeeze his hands to wake him up from his thoughts.

“Um, call – alarm?” Steven pulls his hand from yours and fiddles with the collar of his shirt which suddenly feels quite tight against his neck. “No, it’s fine, I just think Marc had a lot to drink last night, that’s all.”

Your eyes widen. Right.

You pull your hands back from where they'd settled on the table, abandoned by Steven’s touch, and rest them in your lap. Fidgeting nervously, you shift your focus to the neglected napkins at the edge of the table next to Steven, eager to avoid his gaze as his alter is suddenly brought up.

“Well…you should tell him to not drink so much when you have work in the morning…”

You can tell that Steven noticed how you retracted from the conversation as soon as you heard Marc’s name, but he doesn’t bring attention to it. He just chuckles nervously in response. 

“I’ll try…” 

The two of you remain silent for a moment. The comforting energy that was once fuelled by your friendship feels distant now, overshadowed by the tense anticipation of the inevitable confrontation. 

He takes a breath before breaking the silence, “Love…I have a question.”

“Okay.” You bite at your bottom lip nervously. 

Here it comes.

“Are we still up for movie night this week?” A weak smile cracks from the seam of his lips as his eyes find yours again. 

…Or not

You immediately cover up whatever anxious energy you are sure you were overflowing with – putting on your usual smile, the one made just for him. The one that always makes him feel at ease. 

“O-of course, Steven. I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Oh, okay, good.” 

–

After confirming your plans, Steven went on to ramble about the movies and shows he wants to watch with you.

Of course, he’s already seen each one at least two or three times, but he enjoys watching them with you – seeing your reactions, answering your questions, telling you fun facts… 

You can’t keep up with the conversation.

Your mind is running in circles, anxious about returning to the crime scene and possibly seeing him again. You’re not ready for that confrontation yet. 

You left the cafe feeling worse than when you arrived. 

How are you supposed to keep going on like everything is okay? 

Like your world hasn’t been turned upside down?

—

The warmth of Steven’s flat is comforting. You swear it was designed to be homey – which is why you never understood why Marc always looked so tense in here. The low hum of the kettle on the stove, the faint smell of old books and tea—it’s familiar. Safe. 

But not tonight.

You’re curled up on his worn couch, clutching a fluffy blanket tighter than necessary, trying to focus on the show playing in front of you. You can barely register the actors on screen. Your pulse thrums loudly in your ears, drowning out every word of dialogue.

Steven ended up choosing Sherlock because “each episode is 90 minutes – basically the length of a movie – so we’ll have at least a month of movie nights figured out!” You can tell he has a big fat man-crush on Cumberbatch’s Sherlock…just look at the way his eyes sparkle brightly when Holmes starts deducing – but you don’t say anything. You’re too anxious to tease him tonight. 

Steven sits beside you, a careful amount of space between you. He’s been quiet, unusually so, eyes flickering between you and the TV. You can feel it every time his gaze lingers—soft, curious, hesitant.

Sure, you’re used to this back and forth habit he has when you come over, but usually he’d be chiming in throughout the movie or show with a “you see that?” or “did you know that [insert actor here] was actually [insert fun fact here] during filming?” 

Tonight he’s barely made a peep. 

It’s freaking you out. 

And then, halfway through the episode, you feel it.

The slight shift of the cushions – Steven trying to scoot closer. 

Not boldly, just inching forward like someone dipping a toe into cold water. Your breath catches in your throat. His knee barely grazes yours, and it feels like a shockwave ripples through you.

Again, you’re used to his cuddly side. You’re supposed to be used to it. 

Used to the way he’d lean against you, his head on your shoulder as you both read books in comforting silence. Used to the way he’d intertwine his fingers with yours during tense scenes in a movie, squeezing when the sound effects get too loud – though he’s seen the same scene a handful of times already and should know what to expect (he’s still a scaredy cat). Used to the way he’d let out those soft breaths when he’d fall asleep with his head in your lap, your fingers running through his perfectly messy hair. 

You were. 

But since his confession about Layla, it’s different. Since what happened between you and Marc, it’s different. 

You could hear an intake of breath, signaling that he wants to say something, but before he can get it out, the kettle whistles loudly. He gets up, a bit rattled by the sudden interruption, and tends to the tea. He doesn’t even pause the episode. He always pauses when he has to get up. 

Clearly, neither of you are focused on the show tonight

He comes back with two steaming cups – chamomile because “having caffeine after the sun goes down disrupts your circadian rhythm” – and he sets them on the coffee table in front of you. You’re surprised he can even find enough space for them because the table is usually – 

It’s clear… 

You didn’t even notice how uncluttered his flat is. 

You take a second to look around. There are still overflowing bookcases, excessive amounts of cuddly blankets and pillows, and a couple of mugs out, but otherwise, it’s neat. And that can only mean one thing: Marc is stressed out. 

The one time you’ve seen Marc during the day, by accident and before you really knew him, he’d been grumpily cleaning the flat. 

You could tell that something more was happening behind the scenes, something other than frustration towards his alter for attempting to read 5 books at once, then falling asleep at his desk before being able to put them away. He was antsy, muttering to himself as he meticulously organized the bookshelves by author and subject. 

You assumed it had something to do with his strained relationship with Khonshu, but you didn’t ask. Steven had warned you against mentioning anything Khonshu-related in front of his alter in the past and you heeded to it. Instead, you left the bag of takeout on the kitchen counter and quietly slipped out.

Unfortunately, you’re aware of what’s stressing him out this time. 

“Do you like the show so far?” 

You’re immediately pulled from your thoughts. Steven is back in his seat with his hands cradling his mug for warmth. He’s noticeably further away from you than before. 

“Yeah, I actually can’t believe I haven’t seen it yet.” Your voice is soft as you lean forward for your drink. You take a sip.

You must have been lost in your thoughts for a while as the tea had cooled enough for you to easily drink it. You look down at the tea bag sitting at the bottom of the cup, unsure what to say next. 

You hear Steven sigh before the TV is shut off. Whatever Sherlock was monologuing about is cut off, replaced with the quiet buzzing of the A/C. You look up to be met with an equally hesitant gaze. 

He situates himself on the couch so he’s facing you more directly.

“Steven…?”

“Are you okay?” He finally says, “Because you’ve been distracted all night – Haven’t even said anything about the show, or asked for snacks, or sit in the way you usually do when you use me like a footrest…”

“Um, no, I’m fine.” You dismiss his worries and place your mug back on the table, hoping he’d just drop the subject. “I’m just tired, you know? Had a long day at work is all.” 

“I know that’s not it.”

You turn away from him just to stare at the blank TV, “Yeah? And how would you know?” Your words sound harsh but your voice is soft and unstable. “Aren’t you too busy worrying about Layla?” You regret saying it as soon as it leaves your mouth. You don’t know what drove you to say it, but something about him trying to care is frustrating you. 

“W-what, this has nothing to do with her.” He places a hand on your shoulder to get you to look at him. It works. You hate how the warmth from his hand can instantly calm you and have you itching for his touch. “Look,” He looks at you with guilty eyes before letting it all out, “I know that you and Marc kissed.” 

The warmth between you instantly disappears.

You freeze. 

Your mind races with excuses, stupid ones, and straight lies, but they’re all stuck in your throat – you can’t say anything. 

Steven continues to speak, “I just can’t help but wonder…” He pauses briefly and you watch him roll the words through his mind before taking your hands in his. He squeezes them like he does when he’s watching a thriller movie and it gets too intense – “...were you thinking of me when it happened?”

If you were shocked before, now you’re floored. 

---

author's note:

like I said with the last chapter, i'll have a chapter half written out and left in my google drive until I finally, painstakingly, finish it. 😭

i really want to write a lot and have it out for you guys immediately, but i'm simply not a writer so i can't do that. i don't ever have a plan for these chapters or the story as a whole so if it's messy just know: it's all me, baby :)

i genuinely could NOT write out the confrontation -- but how did you like the twist? or should i say the AUDACITY of steven 😼 (if you hate it, i am sorry 🙏 truly). the reason why i wrote out all of this was so you could get an idea of the dynamics around steven and the reader. i wanted to make some hints at your past friendship and how this situation has ruined it. i know this story is slow asf (and not just bc of my inconsistent posting) but i swear i want to see where it goes just as much as you guys do. unfortunately, i'm in charge of figuring it out.

sorry again for the delayed chapter. 👋 see you in a year i guess...

[thesecretwriter]

nightmare - steven grant.

pairing: Steven Grant x female reader

warnings: angst – steven has a nightmare which leaves him startled, fluff – you’re there to comfort him, smut – smutty undertones, ooc!steven grant.

summary: in which y/n comforts steven after he has a nightmare.

word count: 900 words

a/n: been thinking of steven lately and how much I would love a man as soft as he is! 

minors/ageless blogs dni.

masterlists  

The first emotions that ran through your body when you heard his muffled cries were empathy and concern. His form was trembling next to yours, faced etched with fear. Your first instinct was to wake him up.

“Steven, wake up baby. Its okay, wake up,” you said as you leaned over him and stroked his hair comfortingly.

Sweat collected at his brow and his curly hair was a mess at the top of his head.

Your gentle touch to his head seemed to bring him out of his dazed state.

Even in the dark you could see the fear in his expression. He looked around the room alarmingly before settling his gaze on you.

He leaned up on his forearms.

“Darling?... it- the nightmare. I’m sorry,” he couldn’t form a proper sentence as he tried to reel his mind back to form coherent thoughts.

“Shh, its okay baby. It was just a nightmare. S’not real,”

You moved your body closer to his and let him settle his head against your chest as he leaned into you. Your hands made their way to his face and head to comb through his hair.

“It felt real. You were there one moment and gone the next. It all happened right in front of me and I couldn’t do anything,” he explained as he recalled his nightmare.

It’s obvious he was talking about his nightmare, and you knew the one thing he needed right now was someone to listen to him. 

“The thought of losing you… its terrifying. You’re all I have,” he whispers into the dark room.

“I’m here and not going anywhere. You will always have me here with you Steven,” you lay a kiss to his forehead as he closes his eyes for a second.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to go back to sleep,” he says sadly.

“And that’s okay,” you exclaim, knowing that he is going to feel bad.

“I’m sorry I woke you up like that,” he apologizes.

“Baby. One thing I know for sure is that you are not going to apologize for something you cannot control,” you make sure his eyes is on yours as you say this to him.

A small smile graces his lips.

“I love you so much,” he says and leans up to connect your lips.

The kiss is soft and gentle.

“I love you too,” you say back as you break the kiss.

You knew that you wouldn’t be able to sleep either if you knew Steven could not sleep. So, you opted for making some tea.

“I’m gonna make us some tea, okay?” you ask him as you get out of bed, causing Steven to move off you and lay on his side of the bed.

He lays in bed, staring up at the ceiling when his thoughts begin to wonder to the many times you had helped him in such situations.

You both had been dating for roughly over a year at this point. Having your presence in his apartment felt normal, like this is what his life was meant to be. Having you there in times of need and returning the favor if you ever needed it Before you, he lived life by a schedule, scared to come out of his comfort zone, but the moment he encountered you – that all changed.

He decides to join you in the kitchen, wanting to be near you in that moment.

You’re facing away from him when he walks into the kitchen. You were pouring the sugar into the tea cups since the water was still boiling. 

You feel him before you hear him. Steven stands closely behind you, caging you between the kitchen counter and his body by putting his hands on either side of you.

“I don’t think I appreciate you enough,” he murmurs into your ear as he lays soft kisses down toward your neck. His hair tickling you as he angles himself to kiss your neck. 

Goosebumps erupt on your skin as his hands roam your body beneath you sleep shirt. 

By now Steven has his body flush against yours and you feel all of him.

You feel your arousal growing for him.

“Steven,” you whisper.

“Yes baby?” he whispers back with a hint of a smile in his words.

“Need you,”

In a split second, he turned you to face him and hoists you to sit on the counter, being careful as to not push the teacups over the edge.

His lips are on yours in an instant, he wastes no time, getting straight to the point of wanting to feel you close to him. You’re pulled flush against his body as he kisses you sloppily in the best way possible.

“Fuck,” he murmurs as he pulls away from the kiss.

You look into his eyes and see them filled with desire. You always feel the most beautiful when its him that looks at you. There’s just something about the way his eyes look into yours.

“I guess we’re not having tea,” you chuckle as he hooks his arms around you, and you tighten your legs around him. He carries you like this back to the bedroom.

[pimosworld]

Stranger in my house

Pairing-Moon boys x F!reader ( Secretly Jake x f!reader) Marc Spector x f!reader/ Steven grant x f!reader

CW-18+,MDNI,Angst,Fluff,Insecurities, inaccurate depiction of DID, reader is semi aware of Jake. Protective Marc, Steven being sweet as always. Established relationship with Marc and Steven.

WK-1.6k

Summary-Snippets of a life where Jake struggles to stay in the shadows.

A/N- Dedicated to my moonknight babes. I have not forsaken you.

[Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

You notice him one day.

  A year into your relationship and Marc is fed up with Steven and yours overflowing books on the floor of the flat. “We need another bookshelf.” He grumbles at your suggestion because he would just get rid of some if he had the choice. 

  That’s how you find yourself curled up on the couch with some tea and ironically a book while you watch Marc put together the new shelf you and Steven picked out. 

  It was ornate with cherry wood accents and came with a miniature ladder to help you reach the top shelf. You didn’t think it would be too complicated but it seems as Marc stares at the pages like they are ancient hieroglyphics, you may have caused a bit more of a headache than you intended. 

  He mutters something incoherent under his breath ‘déjeme ver’. You don’t bother to ask if he needs help when the scowl on his face deepens even further into an almost unrecognizable version of your boyfriend. 

  You glance up occasionally to watch the way his back strains against the tight black t-shirt, or the way his ass looks in his jeans when he bends over. Marc and Stevens movements are so unalike and yet even now the way he stands up and straightens as he rolls his neck is so unlike Marc. 

  You stop ogling to resume your book and find yourself several chapters in when you look up to see it finished. “Oh honey, it looks so good.” 

  The look he gives you when he turns around is more of a smirk of amusement. You glance down briefly to mark your page before standing from the couch to inspect his handy work. You don’t notice the way he’s watching you as you slide your hands along the smooth wood shelves. You grab a few of your favorite books that were piled on the floor and strategically place them in some specific secret order that no one but you is privy to. 

  You turn to him and wrap your arms around his neck, waiting for him to scoop you up as he usually does. His hands hover hesitantly at your waist and then he pulls you flush against him. You almost have no room to breathe as you chuckle lightly into his neck. You swear he smells your hair before he abruptly lets you go. 

  “Hi love, do you like the bookcase?” Your sweet Steven has a slightly wild look in his eyes as waits for your response. 

  “Of course I do, we picked it out together silly.” You lean in and kiss him on the cheek and he relaxes at your touch. “If you’re listening Marc, I love it, since you disappeared on me.” 

  “Right ya…Marc. He says you're welcome.” 

  ****

  You notice one day

  You had spent all afternoon preparing a special dinner and dessert for Marc. The flat is adorned with candles and smells of fresh pasta and apple pie. 

  When Marc walks through the door you can see it written all over his face. He doesn’t say anything about you making his favorites because technically it’s not his birthday. It’s the day after. 

  You enjoy each other's company in comfortable silence as you wait for him to finish. He raises an eyebrow at you as you hand him a small box, unwrapped because then it’s not a birthday gift. 

  He opens it slowly to reveal his watch that broke months ago, the small hand ticking away right in front of his eyes. 

  You should thank her mate

  She didn’t need to do all this for my birthday 

  Well it’s technically not anymore is it? 

  He doesn’t say anything but you decide to press on with your plan. Even if it’s not exactly the reaction you were expecting at the very least he’s not protesting it. 

  “I have one more thing.” You stand from the table and head to the kitchen to retrieve the apple pie on warm in the oven. To you it’s just a dessert, a non cake related dessert that just so happened to be his favorite. Steven helped you with the vegan crust because he was not about to let Marc have all the fun. 

  You return to the table with a slice and a fork to share. He stares at it for a moment and your heart sinks a little. 

  “I know what you’re going to say…”

  He cuts you off before you can finish, he stands so suddenly it startles you. He kisses you slowly at first, savoring the way you moan into his mouth. His hand is on the back of your head and the other around your waist and it feels so different. It’s like you’re sending him off to war and this is the last kiss you’ll ever share. Your lungs burn from lack of air but you don’t want to be the first one to break. 

  He pulls away as you look up at him. His eyes are squeezed so tightly shut as he tries to catch his breath. 

  “Honey,look at me.” 

  His brow softens as he opens his eyes revealing that deep chocolate brown, with a look that could only adorn your sweet Stevens face. 

  “Thank you, love.” 

  ****

  It goes like this for a while. You noticing him…him noticing you. 

  You notice as You quirk your eyebrow at him in the kitchen when he picks out the tomato on his sandwich and drops it in the trash like it personally wronged him.  

  “I thought you liked those?” 

  He notices After a long day at work in shoes you know we’re too uncomfortable he picks up your feet and places them in his lap. He rubs them at first bordering on painful that settles into something soothing. His fingers brush the bottom of your feet and you flinch at the ticklish feeling. He tsks at you under his breath and you still your movements when you meet his unfamiliar eyes. 

  You notice When he doesn’t hear you enter the flat. He’s at the kitchen sink washing dishes, shirtless in those gray sweatpants you love. He’s humming some tune you’ve never heard as you place your things down and toe off your shoes. You didn’t mean to startle him as your cold hands met his side and he turned quickly knocking a glass off the counter. 

  “Mierda quédate ahí!” You don’t speak Spanish but you’re too stunned to move anyway. He grabs you with one arm around your waist and carries you like a duffel bag over to the couch away from the glass. 

  “Sorry love, clumsy me. I’ll get this cleaned up.” Steven doesn’t look at you as he grabs the broom from the closet. 

  ****

He notices when he slinks in through the window in the early hours. It’s still dark outside as he strips himself of his moon knight clothes, the blood only distinguishable on his hands. As he slips past you to the shower he can see your shallow breaths while you lay out flat on the bed. 

  After a while you feel the bed dip beside you as you try to calm your breathing. He wraps his arm around you as he pulls your back flush to his chest. His breath is hot on your neck and you can feel his heart beating rapidly against you. 

  “You’re a terrible faker mi amor.” Your breath hitches in your throat as he speaks the words into your ear. 

  “You have to slow down your breathing if you want to pretend to be asleep.” His voice a low growl as he places his hand on your chest. You can feel him take slow deliberate breaths as you try to match the rise and fall of his chest. ‘así’

  “This isn’t how you lay when you're asleep.” His hand leaves your body momentarily and you miss the heat of his touch. He grabs your thigh behind the knee and pushes it gently until it’s bent. His hand slowly guides you to your stomach while his other arm supports the weight of your head.‘es mejor’

  He envelopes you under the blankets and it takes all your willpower not to roll him over and straddle him. You don’t even know him. He buries his face in your neck and sniffs again inhaling your scent. You’re practically skin to skin in your satin slip dress and his bare chest and boxers. 

  “Is this okay?” His voice barely above a whisper as you nod your head. His lips ghost over your back before he kisses your shoulder. It’s those soft sleepy kisses adorning your body until the real sleep claims you both. 

  ****

  You awake to the feel of cold sheets beside you as you feel around for him. A sliver of light hits the room from the bathroom door slightly ajar. 

  “I swear to god Jake, if you fuck this up.”

Jake -he has a name

  It’s mostly Marc speaking idle threats as you listen in to a one sided conversation. Whatever his reservations may be, it's none of your business. You do know that he would never do anything intentionally to fuck this up. 

  Your boyfriend exits the bathroom still dressed only in his black boxers. “Love…we need to talk to you about something.” 

  He sits on the edge of the bed as he rubs circles on your legs under the sheets. 

  “I know.” 

  They knew…it’s why they can’t be mad when you finally talk about the stranger. You fell in love with him a long time ago. The one they tried to keep a secret. He no longer wanted to be kept in the dark. He loves you too much. This stranger in your house. 

@chichimisaki @simpforbritgents @casa-boiardi @missdictatorme @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @melodygatesauthor @missbeverlyhills

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

Dejeme ver-Let me see

Mierda quedate ahi-Shit stay there

Asi- just like that

Es mejor- that’s better

[blue-sadie]

A Dark Slumber

they accidentally hurt you when having a nightmare

Steven Grant

The nightmares only started after the whole experience death and finding out his purpose of living he felt used and betrayed, he couldn't stomach looking at marc for a while let alone talking to you about it but what hurt him most was his mother's death.

You both layed soundly in your bed the only noise was from the fish tank that released bubbles every few moments, it was peaceful well for you, Steven's nightmare started with his leg twitch then to his hands pulling at the covers, he started muttering words no one could understand.

He woke you up when he accidentally smacked you in your face making you squeaked out which made him sit up in alarmed by your noise, he'll look around frantically intill his eyes landed on you holding your cheek and he immediately knew what he did.

The first thing he did was ask if your ok he wouldn't come close to you unless you tell him it's ok, he would feel ashamed and full of guilt and breakdown he would tell you everything that's been on his mind mostly about the nightmares and of the things he saw when he died "i-ive just been so stuck in my mind I guess my feelings were just catching up to me"

Marc Spector

He always had nightmares from his childhood but they've never been this bad, after the countless missions he's done he would think that killing would get easier that the guilt feeling would subside but it never did it was actually getting the best of him sometimes.

You were pretty used to his slight movements and bumps in the night he was a restless sleep it was very rare when he had a peaceful slumber, his hands would grasp the blankets tightly his breathing uneven as he twist and turned.

You woke up gasping as you felt your air way close your hands immediately wrapped around his he would only wake up probly when you gasped out his name, he would immediately release your neck and stare blankly at his hands.

He would quickly raise fron the bed and refuse to get back in, you'd have to coax him back in after nights of him on the couch he would take alot of convincing and time to even touch you again the images of him strangling you crossing his mind everytime he comes into contact with your skin "I don't know what came over me it felt as if I lost control of my whole body it was... scary".

Jake Lockley

He never had dreams only nightmares but that hardly ever happened anyway since he normally stares up at the ceiling as you slept beside him, he'll do anything to stay awake the thought of sleeping repulsed him but it was actually the fear if what he'll see that stopped him.

He only closed his eyes for a minute only wanting a slight rest but that was quick to turn into a long slumber but that miracle turned sour as his body started to flinch and his rapid eye moments were frantic, his body thrashed around kicking the blankets off of him and he squirmed around.

The thing that woke you was when you came into contact with the ground the coldness and shock of the fall caused you to scream making him fling himself out of bed to your rescue but it took him a minute to figure out it was his doing that got you onto the floor.

He would profusely apologize and help you back into bed while cursing at himself in spanish as he took got back into bed, he would cuddle you whispering apologizes and praises while making internal promises to himself that he'll never sleep in your presence again afraid it would be worse next time "I'm so sorry mi amor I promise I'll get better"

[l0caltiredgirl]

when i want fluff/angst fics and all i’m getting is smut

the struggle is real

[luffyssa]

i got bored so here's a meme

[zaynesdesimc]

Magic

Moon Boys x reader<3

summary: you were married to Jake and after the events of moonknight, the boys get to know of jake and of you. Steven adores you but Marc just sees you as a friend. Right?

A/N: okay the timeline is a bit wonky but here's what i thought while writing the fic. Jake dated you for a year and a half before putting a ring on it. And you've been married for three years. You met Steven and Marc a year ago and have been dating Steven for eight months. Marc became friends with you a month after meeting you. please comment and reblog if you liked it!

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort

@jake-g-lockley

Marc was a lot of things. Pig-headed, stubborn, horrible at communication, a fighter. But he wasn't arrogant He could admit it when he didn't know something.

But right now he knew one thing and one thing only, that Jake was a prime idiot.

Marc stayed in the background when Jake was fronting around you, most of the time. Not always, of course. He wasn't a perv and one to to intrude between a husband and a wife. But he knew you. So did Steven, and you knew them.

He'd considered you his friend. Maybe one of his best, just months after meeting you. You and him shared many a night after Jake's missions talking and watching movies, when your husband was knocked out. You made him fall in love with chai, something that knocked Steven's socks off and he'd taught you the basics of baseball so you weren't clueless when you watched baseball with him.

It wasn't always so nice.

"You're married?!"

"Yeah, what's your problem with that?" Jake had become defensive, he wouldn't let Marc or Steven breathe a single ill word towards you.

"No, it's no problem at all, pal." Marc seethed, outraged, "except for the fact that I was married to Layla! God what if she almost say you when we were married? No wonder it ended!"

"Fuck off, man. You know full well why your marriage didn't work out with Layla. And unlike her, I told my lady fucking everything. She knows everything, from the cave to the sarcophagus. So she knew what to do and what to be careful of, including you. So don't blame my marriage for the reason yours didn't work out."

This was when Steven had interjected, he was unsurprisingly on Jake's side.

"He's right, Marc. If his wife knows everything then you can't blame him, and it's honestly rather mean and unfair of you to be angry at someone you haven't even met."

It took a few hours for Marc to calm down, and actually, apologise to Jake.

Hesitantly, Jake offered, "Y'know, if you want you can meet her. She practically knows everything about you and uh, Steven's most probably seen her around. She goes to the museum every week."

"Wait a minute! That lady with the Van Gogh tote bag?"

"Yup."

"Oh wow! She's really sweet, and beautiful! Hell, mate. You scored."

Jake had to smile at that, he knew he scored with you. For the longest time he felt like you were too good for him and that someone as kind, clever, intelligent and beautiful as you shouldn't have had to settle for someone like him. But you'd kiss away every ill thought he had about himself and reassure him. Communication was a very, very vital and important part of the relationship and you had helped him learn that it wasn't selfish to voice his thoughts. Especially because he put everyone's needs before his for so long.

"I know, man."

Steven had readily agreed to front and meet you, and Marc was okay with being co-conscious during the interaction as well. So on one fine day, Jake had brought them to the house he considered his home. He worked to contribute to it's rent, and buy things for it and for you. It was home, after all. You were his home.

Marc didn't know what to expect but when Jake had stepped in and hung his jacket on the stand and taken his shoes off, footsteps could be heard running from the main bedroom and he saw you running straight into Jake's arms. Jake laughed wildly, picking you up and twirling you around, much to your delight as you kissed the life out of him.

When he put you down, he could get a clear glimpse of you. Your hair was messy and your t-shirt was rumpled. And when he saw you smile he knew why Jake had fallen in love with you. Why Steven thought you were beautiful and sweet. Verything about you screamed, home.

Your greeting to Jake threw both the boys off, "Who the fuck are you?"

Jake smirked, "The fuck you mean, ma?"

"I mean, who." you poked him once, "are." twice, "you?" thrice and Jake started giggling. Fucking giggling like some little schoolgirl. You laughed too, and hugged him tight.

"Hey, baby." he kissed your forehead and you smiled.

"Hi." you kissed his nose.

"I have two guys who'd like to meet you."he raised his eyebrows.

Your jaw dropped a little, "For real? Wait, you're being serious, you're not screwing with me?"

"Why would I screw with you, when I could just screw you?"

The men in his head and you all let out a simultaneous groan.

Steven met you first, and it went swell, you'd both bonded over history and literature. And a love for Taylor Swift. But that was a secret. You liked him a lot and he positively adored you.

Marc, on the other hand, was much more closed off, he'd be polite, but he'd be curt as well. A combination you didn't know was possible.

After a few weeks of trying to bond with him, resulting in almost a small meltdown. It had taken Jake being knocked out after a mission and being too tired to eat to actually get him to talk to you over a meal.

It was one of the best things he'd eaten in his goddamn life and the groan he'd let out after the first bite brought a laugh out of you.

So yes, Marc would consider you one of his best friends. Steven and you had started going out with each other a few months ago and it was going so well.

But not Marc.

Because he didn't like you like that.

Of course not, you were his friend.

You were his friend who made him laugh because you had the same dark sense of humour. You hugged him when he needed one but was too uptight to ask you. You, who googled the Cubs and learnt everything you could about them just so you could talk to him as well, the way you talked to Steven about Jane Austen and the Indus Valley.

He didn't know when it became something more to him.

And he didn't see how you'd look him at him when he laughed, or when he was focused on the TV, or when he made you tea the way you liked it, Jake had taught him how to do that.

No, to him, you were just his best friend.

And you were currently crying your eyes out because Jake and you had gotten into a huge fight. He'd missed your anniversary because of a mission and he was working with Hathor's avatar. He failed to mention the part where he was forced to pretend they were a thing to prevent being caught and you'd caught him smelling of her perfume and gotten rightfully furious.

Not because of her, but because he didn't tell you that it had been happening for a few days. That the week he'd spent away from you, he'd had to pretend he was someone else's and he was too scared to tell you. That's why you were mad, because you thought he didn't trust you.

You'd raised your voice as he turned his back on you and he turned around, face contorted in rage. Steven tried calming him down as he stalked over to you. You stood your ground, Jake would never lay a hand on you. You knew that. But it was what he said, that broke you.

"You're being a fucking nuisance. Instead of trying to understand, you're being more of a burden by finding shit to get mad at. Grow the fuck up."

That prime ass had the audacity to call you a burden. A nuisance.

And then he had the fucking nerve to leave and complete his mission and give control to Marc. Steven had chewed the fuck out of him and Marc would have loved to as well, but he needed to see you. See if you were okay.

As soon as he stepped in, he saw you on the sofa, rapidly wiping your tears away. You sagged again when you knew it was him. Somehow you always knew.

He furrowed his eyebrows at your disheveled state. Your eyes were swollen and wet with tears and you were breathing very heavily and in quick spurts.

"What do you need?" Marc asked you, sitting down beside you.

"C-can I have" you coughed, "a hug, Marc?" you said in a small voice, looking away.

Marc immediately moved to hug you close. Shushing you when you began to cry again.

What hurt was that he knew, and Jake knew, and Steven knew that you hated being a burden or an inconvenience to anyone. And today, the one man you trusted the most in this world had made you feel like that. And he couldn't even apologize.

'Jake you fucking idiot.' he rocked you a little, 'you better come out and fix this. she may be our friend but this is because of you, fix this.'

Jake remained silent in the reflection of the mirror next to the door. He looked wrecked at seeing you sob, and tears were falling down his own eyes.

'Mate.' Steven spoke up, he sounded mad, 'You made our girl cry. Stop being a fucking coward and fix this!'

When he was met with silence, Steven seethed, 'Marc, gimme the body.'

You knew exactly when it was Steven hugging you, and you kissed his cheek and breathed him in.

"Oh, love." he tried to comfort you, "I'm sorry. You're not a burden, I promise you." he kissed your forehead.

"I know that, Steven. I know I'm not a burden to you. I'm scared I'm becoming one to him. He doesn't even want to look at me!" you sniffed.

Steven glared at Jake in the mirror, who was wiping away his own tears.

Steven and Marc knew why Jake was so worked up. They knew that whoever Jake and Hathor's avatar was after called their bluff. They knew that those people had found the woman's partner and Jake was terrified for you and he couldn't even tell you because he never, ever wanted to be the reason for any feeling you had that wasn't bliss, happiness, content, or pleasure. And because he was sure he could find those assholes and beat the living shit out of them for even thinking of harming you.

But it wasn't their place to tell you, that much was apparent. Jake dug his grave, and then jumped into it. He had to crawl out of it on his own now.

"I just want to be someone he's happy to be with." you whisper and that's when Jake straightened up, heartbroken.

"Give me the body, hermano."

"All yours."

Only Jake scrunched the back of your shirts when he hugged you and you moved to hug him tightly as he whispered apologies in your ear.

"Baby, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry I made you feel like you were a burden and that I was anything but fucking delighted to be with you." he kissed your nose and then told you everything. Looking away because he was scared.

"I didn't tell you at first because I didn't want to just say that I had to pretend I was dating someone else and then fuck off for a week. I made a mistake in assuming that'd you get mad and it's because if I was in your place, I would be. But you're stronger than me, tesoro, and I failed to see that and I'm so sorry."

"Baby, I forgive you." you replied and he breathed out a sigh of relief, "But please, don't keep stuff like this in, okay? You can trust me, you know that."

He nodded fiercely and then he kissed you. Noses nudging and lips parting as he breathed you in like you were his lifeline, and he yours. He cupped your face and held you tight against him and when he pulled away you smiled at him, your eyes shining.

Steven fronted again with a little smile and you kissed him lovingly with a whispered 'i love you'. He just winked at you and kissed the back of your hand and then your forehead again before Jake took back control and carried you to the bed, kissing you deeply all the way.

----

Marc was fine, no he just needed a glass of water. He'd carefully rolled off the bed, thankful that he was at least wearing sweatpants and padded to the kitchen.

He should have known that you were a light sleeper.

"Marc." you began, your voice raspy.

He hummed in reply and held out his glass to you. You accepted it and drank your fill, giving it back to him.

After a few more moments of silence, you spoke up, "I thanked Steven for comforting me. But I didn't thank you." you cleared your throat, "Thank you, Marc." you said, sincerely, "You're one of my best friends."

Marc smiled at you. Actually smiled. And you smiled back and kept going, "And Jake and Steven know this and are okay with it so I-"

"You don't have to thank me, honey." he patted your shoulder, trying to conceal his tears as he looked away because god he was dumb. Dumb enough to realize now, that he loved you, "I'm glad I'm your friend."

To him, you were everything. You were sunrays and moonbeams and everything that he believed was magical as a boy. Everything he stopped believing in as he grew up. The first time you made him laugh and joined him he felt sure that magic existed after all, because what else could you be?

He tried walking past you but you held his hand and he froze, tears streaming down his cheeks.

You walked over to him and held his face in your hands. His eyes shut as you wipe away his tears. And he whimpered as you kissed his forehead.

"Marc. Open your eyes and look at me." you said softly.

He was terrified. That you'd seen past his mask and were going to let him down gently. Because to you, what could he be? Certainly nothing more than a friend.

"Sweetheart. Please."

When his eyes finally opened, they met yours.

"Marc. I fucking love you." you confessed and he let out a sob. Pulling you into a tight hug.

"I love you. God I love you so much, Sweetheart." he says into your hair, kissing all over your face, but not your lips.

"Can I kiss you?" you asked him, looking at him with those beautiful eyes of yours.

He nods and your hands travel to his locks and pull them lightly as you bring your lips to his own. Humming sweetly as he wraps his arm around you and licks into you.

Yes, he reasons yet again as you hold his face in your hands and smile at him, magic does exist. And it's in his arms. He loves it and so do the men in his head who cheer for him, albeit sleepily, looking at you lovingly.

And they'd never let you go.

[anonymityisfunwriter]

"Slut!"

Pairing - Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader Summary - It was perfect. Lovelorn and nobody knows. Love thorns all over this rose. You almost forgot just how hard the fall back to reality is. But if they call you a slut, it might be worth it for once.

Steve Rogers Masterlist | Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist

"She goes through guys like a train-"

You immediately change the channel. The next one isn't better. You don't know why you thought it would be.

"The Stark last name and the long list of ex-lovers, that's her claim to fame. I mean, let's be honest here, she's a slu-" The tabloid reporter is abruptly cut off as the screen before you goes dark.

You look up to find Steve with the remote in his hand. He glares at the screen like the reporter was still talking, "You shouldn't be watching that."

"I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't be. It's despicable. They were - the things they're calling you-"

"A slut," you finish for him.

His eyes dart to you, that furrow between his eyebrows getting deeper and deeper with every word spoken, "It's not true. This isn't journalism, it's slander."

You weren't sure how this happened. Sure, it was only a matter of time before they found you out. This wasn't the first time. Not the second or the third either. If the press was to be believed, you were love sick. Love struck with a new man every week.

It wasn't the first time someone called you a slut. It certainly wouldn't be the last.

You stopped living your life in fear of what people would say a long time ago. Being this young was an art. And up until now, you thought you mastered it.

It was simple. You even had your rules. You followed them and no one got hurt - or at the very least, it minimized the damage.

They were going to stare at you. Strangers. Press. The flashing cameras. It came with being a Stark. If they're going to look, you gave them something to look at. You didn't so much as step out on the street with a single hair out of place. You were flawless. Always.

You were nineteen, and on the heels of a breakup with your second ever boyfriend, the first time someone spit that word at you - "slut!" It hurt, but it didn't hurt as much as you thought it would. It almost made you laugh. You realized that they didn't really care about your love life or about the trail of broken hearts you were supposedly leaving behind. They wanted a spectacle. They wanted a show. If you're going to be drunk, might as well be drunk in love.

It was easier after that. You knew the truth. The people around you knew the truth. You let everyone else believe what they wanted. You did what you wanted. You lived your life without worrying about being called a slut. They were going to call you one anyway. And if they call you a slut, you might as well make it worth it.

You gave just enough to keep them satisfied. Never anything too real. Never too much. Just enough that they wouldn't dare peak behind closed doors. Just enough to be able to live your life.

There were was a cost, of course. No one took you seriously. You dealt with the vague humiliation of the rumors constantly swirling about your hips and thighs and whispered sighs.

And though you inherited the Stark genius, no one cared about what you thought, what you had to say.

In that, the reporter was right, your love life was far more interesting than your thoughts on quantum mechanics or the military industrial complex. That was what you were known for.

For the most part, you were okay with it. You were willing to pay it all.

That was until you fell in love with Steve Rogers. Suddenly, you weren't willing to give them crumbs. You weren't willing to expose a love that felt this delicate.

You sit on the couch, huddled in your sweatpants, pensively staring at the blank screen.

This time, it was different. This wasn't a show, not a spectacle. It was real, an exposed nerve that the world decided was fair game. You were fair game and it was open season.

Steve settles beside you, draping an arm around your midsection. He kisses your temple, "Tony thinks it's probably best that you lay low for a while."

"Yes, well, my brother is the expert on PR damage control."

It wasn't the same though. You both knew it. Tony had done far worse with far more women. Yet, he would never pay the price you were paying in this very moment.

Steve's arms tighten around you like he's shielding you from the storm, "It's not right. It's not fair that you're being forced to sequester yourself. You're being punished but what exactly was your crime?"

"I fell in love with Steve Rogers, that was my crime." You fell for the man everyone wanted, the man who was in the wrong place at the right time.

"I'm sorry," he whispers against the crown of your head.

"For what?"

"You warned me this would happen."

It was true. You told him exactly what would happen, but even you didn't anticipate exactly how bad things would get.

You'd been with Steve for just under a year. And up until a week ago, only a select few knew. You both agreed to keep it a secret from the public. You felt protective over the love you shared, it was more real than anything else you'd ever had. You wanted to keep it to yourself, out of the hands of people that would tear you both to shreds without a second thought.

Steve felt the same. Though he was more worried about the enemies he made over the years.

It made sense to protect the relationship, to protect yourselves until you were both ready. You wanted to protect him from what you knew was lurking around the corner. Steve was still so new to the 21st century. Dating in the public eye wasn't easy. Dating a Stark wasn't easy. For almost an entire year, you used every publicity trick in the book - and it worked.

But then, you heard it, the whispers, rumors bubbled about your newest future ex-lover.

You only agreed to going public because everyone told you it was time, because they promised that the timing couldn't have worked out better than this. It was better to do this on your own terms than have it leaked.

No one knew how bad it would get.

"Are you sure? There's no going back after this," you whisper, standing in the hallway of your apartment. You could practically hear the cameras flashing outside your apartment. You'd never been this nervous to leave your apartment before. You'd been through the plan a million times. You'd be exposed to the cameras for a matter of seconds. Happy was already waiting with the door to your SUV open, ready for you to jump in. You'd walk outside holding Steve's hand - a sort of silent announcement to the world. "It won't be easy."

"I don't care," Steve promises, kissing the palm of your hand. "I'm tired of hiding. I'm proud to call you mine."

You tenderly stroke his cheek, "And if it blows up in your pretty face?"

He smiles down at you, "You're worth it."

"We'll pay the price, I guess." But deep down, you know. You'll pay the price, he won't.

The cameras had never been that loud before. Even though your announcement went off without a hitch, even though your publicist couldn't have been more pleased, not even they could have predicted how bad things would get.

It seemed like the whole world was calling you that four letter word.

At first, it was mostly online. People were mean, you knew that. You were prepared for nasty comments. Steve's most staunch supporters thought he could do better. People rejoiced in the spectacle your love life turned into. You were a laughing stock all over again. All that you were prepared for. Then some rabid fans leaked your phone number.

You decided that it would be a good time to disconnect anyway.

But it didn't end there. Not even close.

The day after you were expected to make an appearance for a charity you founded. It was just a quick 2 minute speech. And though the event had been throughly vetted, you'd never forget the way your blood ran cold when mid-sentence someone screamed that four letter word over and over again until security dragged them out. You continued until your speech was done, but there was no hiding the way your hands trembled.

From what you heard, the video was still making its rounds online.

You were expected to make an appearance two days after that. An event honoring your father. An event you poured your blood, sweat, and tears into to make sure it was impeccable, an event worthy of honoring your father. The same event you were practically uninvited from.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's just me. I come in peace," Tony jokes.

"I'm glad," you sigh. "I was worried I was going to have to get another number."

Tony sighs into the phone, "How are you holding up?"

"I've been better."

"I'm afraid I don't come bearing good news."

"What now, Tony?"

"That event you had Friday night, the one for dad?"

You pinch the bridge of your nose. You already knew were this was going. "What about it?"

"They want me to take over for you."

You bitterly scoff, "This week just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?"

"You say the word and I'll tell them to fuck off."

"No, don't do that. It's for dad."

"You planned this whole thing single-handedly. You deserve to be the one up there." You don't say a word. He's right, you both know it. It doesn't change the situation you've been put in. "You are still going, right? Come on, you have to go."

"They broke into my house, Tony."

"What? Are you okay?"

"Happy just told me," you explain, sparing Tony the most gory details. "The one in L.A. Apparently, it is now covered in spray paint. You wanna guess what they wrote?"

"Where was your security?" Tony demands.

"Here. Trying to keep people off my sidewalk."

"I'm so sorry."

"I just - I don't think it's a good idea. At least until I get more security."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm glad you've got Steve there. At least I know he'll keep you safe."

You almost smile. Tony was never his biggest fan, but you mostly credit that to him being an overprotective big brother. And the situation you'd found yourself in did nothing to win Tony's over good graces, "It's not his fault, Tony."

"It kinda is, but I digress. Listen, we'll figure this out, alright? I'll go streak in front of the Tower if that'll take some heat off of you."

And though you effectively doubled your security in the last two days, nothing would change anyone's mind about you. You were the villain tainting their hero.

You broke down after that call, violently sobbing against Steve's shoulder. He just pulled you in even tighter.

It reminds you of why you're doing all this. So you can be together, out in the open. That in a world of boys, he's a gentleman.

You squeeze his hand, "You're worth it."

"I'm not worth having your reputation torn to shreds."

And maybe they're right about you. Maybe you do get love struck. Maybe his eyes are like the world's strongest liquor, and it went straight to your head. Maybe you do get love sick. Sure, your life has momentarily fallen apart. It's magic, madness, heaven, and sin, all rolled into one. But if they're going to call you a slut, it might be worth it for once. "But what if all I need is you?"

Steve Rogers Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams @shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes @beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a

[flippinpancakes64]

The Wobbly Third Wheel

Summary: You and Steven have been going strong for a couple of months now. The only bump in the road is Marc, who for some reason, can't even seem to be cordial with you...

Marc Spector x Reader-centric, fluff and a lot of angst, mostly just a look at Marc's character

Note: I'm finally branching out past Twilight someone take a picture omg. But this is my first try writing for something different, so hopefully it goes well. I saw a Moon Knight edit on TikTok and now I'm back in my MK phase so... Anyways Enjoy!

In the beginning, you told yourself it was just him getting used to you.

Steven already told you all about Marc's past. His history with his mom which led to Steven's creation, the whole situation with Layla, Khonshu, being Moon Knight, basically everything.

So you weren't all that surprised when the grumpy American didn't exactly want to be your best friend. That's fair after all. You never asked to be best friends.

What you did ask, though, was for something like a mutual respect. A peaceful coexistence where you could both exist in your own spaces and interact in a kind way if you needed to.

Only, Marc seemed hellbent on, well, giving you hell.

He would go out of his way to order food for himself and not you, even if you were sitting on the couch right across from him. There have been a couple of times where you and Steven were out on a date, and Marc suddenly fronted. He would walk off, leaving you stranded and frantically searching for your boyfriend without any explanation or apology later on.

But the worst were the nights.

You had spent the night at Steven's place again, and it was currently the middle of the night. The moon was high in the sky, and London was quiet. You two were intertwined like vines, one of your legs between Steven's, his arms wrapped around your body in turn. It was hard to distinguish where you ended and he began.

It was nice, everything was peaceful.

Until Marc woke up.

He slowly blinked his eyes open, scanning their bedroom for anything that might have caused him to wake up. Finding none, he looked down at you.

And promptly got up.

That was always one of the worst things he did. Whenever you and Steven would be cuddling, or hanging out, or even just talking, if Marc fronted, he would always leave like there was a fire. Never an explanation, never a warning, just a complete tonal shift.

You know the boys can't necessarily control who comes forward, when they do, or how long they stay out. You know they have some level of control over it, but not a whole lot. And the way Marc looks at you when he suddenly fronts definitely leads you to believe that he's not the one behind the switch.

The surprise, followed by annoyance and slight disgust. His signature look whenever he saw you.

Marc roughly twisted out of your hold, not really paying any mind to if it woke you up or not. He sat up on the edge of the bed, running his fingers through his hair and sighing as if he just got off a long shift.

Truth be told, he doesn't really know why he pushes you away like he does. He thinks you're nice enough. And clearly you love Steven. But there's just something about it, about even entertaining the idea of holding someone else close just like how he used to hold Layla.

Steven sometimes catches him fidgeting with his bare ring finger, running his fingertips over the indent left by his wedding band from all those years ago.

Layla moved on a long time ago, so why can't he? He doesn't know, and he doesn't really want to look too far deep into himself to figure it out.

You moved on the bed, groaning softly as you reached out for him. No, not him- Steven. You were reaching out for Steven. And he doesn't really want to think about the way his heart clenched when he thought of that.

"Steven," you groaned, your eyes blinking open sleepily as you turned to face him on the bed. His back was to you, but you recognized the tense line of his shoulders. The way his head was perpetually hung low like he was always guilty. Always a poor puppy waiting for another kick to land.

"Not Steven," he responded, his voice low and quiet. He wanted to be gruffer, to make himself sound tougher than he really did in that moment. But his body betrayed him, something it's been doing for years now.

"Marc," you whispered. He could hear you shuffling around on the bed, and when he glanced over his shoulder, he saw that you were now sitting up. No closer to him than before, still giving him the space he needed. He appreciated that.

"Just... just go back to bed," he sighed, running his hand over his face tirelessly. It was too late for this bullshit. Too late to be having a late night conversation with his alternate personality's partner who he's slowly starting to develop feelings for too.

"Are you alright?" you asked, your voice infinitely caring. So caring and kind and understanding that it grated on him.

"I'm fine. Go back to bed," he grumbled, moving to stand up.

"Wait," you called, grabbing his arm before he could go too far. "Please, can we just talk?"

"We have nothing to talk about. I'm not your boyfriend," he gritted, his voice tight.

He could hear your tired sigh, and he felt his heart clench at being the source of your sadness.

"I know you're not, but you're a part of him. A big part of him. Please, can't we just talk for a little bit? I'm tired of this passive-aggressive act you've had going on for weeks now," you pleaded. When he turned back to look at you, he was met with those sincere, loving eyes. The same ones he's seen through Steven's. A patient, caring gaze that you save only for those you love most. And he's part of that.

He huffs, trying his best to play the part of the annoyed, grumpy man he's always portrayed himself to be. "Fine. Talk," he grits, sitting back down on the bed and facing you.

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. You realized this might be the only chance you have to change things, to at least convince Marc to be civil.

"Okay. Look, Marc, I'm not asking you to cuddle with me, or to kiss me or dote on me like Steven does. You're not him, we're not dating, I know that," you started, looking deep into his eyes. Marc hates to admit how his chest tightened at that, how he had to fight back the urge to do exactly that.

"All I'm asking is that we can coexist. I love Steven, and I want to be able to spend time with him without feeling like I'm intruding on your space," you continued.

"You are intruding on my space. This is my apartment, this is my bed, you're wearing my clothes," Marc grits before he can stop himself. The way you sigh and bow your head afterward makes him want to hurt someone. Mostly himself.

"I know... I'm... I'm sorry. I promise, I don't want to make you uncomfortable. That's what I'm trying to get at. But I can't work with you if you don't work with me," you pleaded.

He wants to scream. He wants to tell you that you're always welcome, that you don't need to work around him. But he can't. His pride is too fragile, his ego too small. To turn around now would be to wound himself.

"Well I don't know what you want me to do," he settled on instead. A non-answer he always gave Layla when they argued. It had the same effectiveness now as it did back then, which is not much.

"All I want is some communication. I'm not very good at picking up the differences between you two yet. And sometimes it happens so quickly I can't catch it. It's jarring, you know? To be cuddling your boyfriend one minute and then the next minute he just gets up and leaves with no explanation," you said, your voice dripping with worry and sorrow.

"So what do you want me to say?" he gritted. He needs to backpedal, he needs to go back, but he can't stop himself. "'Hey, it's not Steven anymore, so fuck off,'? Is that what you want me to say? 'Hey, it's Marc, get out of my goddamn apartment, I don't want you here and have never wanted you here'? Do you want me to tell you that you're a nuisance? That you take away from my limited alone time because you're always fucking here? That I can't get a moment's peace?"

The look on your face told him everything he needed to know. The lines between your brows, the slight purse of your lips, the wobble of your chin.

"If... if that's what you want to say, then go for it," you whispered, barely hiding the hurt in your voice. No, no, no. He doesn't want you to cry, he's never wanted you to cry.

But this is just who he is.

He's Marc Spector. Moon Knight. The guy who always manages to fuck up everything good that comes his way. The guy who ruined not only his life, but has managed to fuck up Steven's too. The one his broken brain made to be the good one, the one who was supposed to be happy and live a good life away from all of their trauma, he pulled him into it too. And now they're both broken. Everything he touches breaks, and clearly, you're no exception.

Your hand on his shoulder that pulled him back down into the bed, the one that urged him to keep talking, that was when fate was set. And the proof is right in front of him.

The love of his life, his second chance at happiness, crumbling to pieces in front of his eyes.

And yet all he could do was watch.

A tear slipped down your cheek, falling from those eyes that hold so much love, so much patience. He knows if he watched long enough, all the love that you held in there for him would disappear too, so he looked away.

He didn't say anything after that, he just got back up off the bed and stalked out to the kitchen. You were left to tremble silently, to reel and mull over what he just said.

The next day, Steven told you that he didn't mean it. He reassured you that Marc doesn't hate you, but you don't believe it. From your eyes, Marc has only ever pushed you away.

This is what always happens. Marc breaks your heart over and over again, constantly proving that he doesn't love you.

But when it's the dead of night, you don't notice your boyfriend's arms tightening around you. You don't hear the whispered confessions of love that slip from his mouth, missing that signature British accent. You don't feel the hesitant kisses he places on your cheeks and forehead, ghosts of affection that he believes aren't supposed to be there.

Marc thrives here, in the shroud of darkness where no one, not even Khonshu, can see the love in his eyes. No one can hear the vulnerability in his voice. No one sees the tremble of his hands or the reverence they hold. And no one, not even Steven, can feel the longing for love inside of him.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Hii can I please request Steve rogers x fem!innocent!reader where she was a civilian in NY during Loki’s attack, and she was hit by a blast directly from Loki’s scepter, and the way it hit her one, knocked her out, but also gave her powers. “SHEILD” finds her during the cleanup of NY (they at first thought she was dead), the “SHIELD” agents who found her are unfortunately the ones who are the infiltrated Hydra agents who definitely saw this as an opportunity. Maybe her powers are similar to Wanda’s mind manipulation ones, which Hydra would definitely benefit from. This is angsty but they use Bucky (The Winter Soldier) to keep her in line, both from threats and just being rough with her. She’s absolutely terrified of The Winter Soldier as a result. Pierce has Rumlow keep Y/n near him when the agents are at the hospital trying to find Steve after he had that elevator fight with them and escaped “SHIELD”. So she’s at the hospital when Steve (in his hat trying to hide his face) goes back to find the drive Fury gave him (you know when he confronts Natasha privately, you know, when he pushed her into the room). Y/n sees Steve push Nat into that room (the Hydra agents do not) and she somehow sneaks away from them in their panicked search for Steve and she goes into the room Steve and Nat are talking, and she says she needs to talk to them. They’d both be on edge, and Steve would probably push her against the wall demanding to know who she is and if she’s with Hydra, and the poor woman breaks down crying and begs him to help her because Hydra has had her captive ever since the attack on NY (so 2 years) after they found her after she was blasted with Loki’s scepter and gained powers (that Hydra has forced her to use for their gain). After verifying her story, Steve promises to protect her from Hydra and the Winter Soldier, and he has her stay in Sam’s apartment while Sam, Steve, and Nat stop Pierce, the Helicarriers, and Steve’s fight with Bucky. Flash forward when Steve has Y/n move into the Avengers Compound, she’s still very jumpy and scared, but Steve is her safe place and over the year they fall in love. When Steve finds Bucky and he joins the Avengers and moved into the compound, as soon as Steve walks in with Bucky, Y/n starts shaking and trying because she’s completely terrified of him and she begs Steve not to let him (Bucky) hurt her and ever time she sees Bucky around the compound, she cowers away. Steve helps her try to trust Bucky 🥺 Mayba Hydra comes back for Y/n when Steve is on a mission, and Bucky saves her life and protects her. Steve holds her close when he gets back and is so thankful for bucky saving the love of his life 🥺

Safety and Trust » Steve Rogers/Captain America

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Enhanced!Female Reader with the Avengers, and Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Summary: Steve makes you feel safe and you learning how to trust Bucky after HYDRA.

Warnings: Angst (not you and Steve), Fluff, language, HYDRA, crying, boyfriend!Steve/girlfriend!reader, kissing, trust issues, attempted kidnapping, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the lovely request @kpopgirlbtssvt 🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

Chaos was unfolding all around you. Everyone was running around to get somewhere safe. Loki’s reign of terror on Manhattan, New York was not something you were expecting when you woke up today. No one expected this today. As you were running to get somewhere safe, you were blasted by Loki’s scepter, which sent you against a brick wall of a building. Everything went dark for you after that.

Many hours later after Loki’s attack, during the clean up, a couple of SHIELD -HYDRA- agents found you on the ground along a building. They flipped you over onto your back and checked for your pulse. You had one. They exchanged looks before picking you up and taking you to the HYDRA base.

A couple more hours go by when you finally woke up. Your head was pounding and your body was sore from being thrown into a wall from Loki’s blast. You had no idea where the hell you are. You went to stand up, only to find out that your arms and legs were strapped down to a chair.

“What the hell?” You mumbled, tugging at the restrains.

The sound of the door opening echoed throughout the room. You looked up to see a man dressed in a suit and a man dressed in all black tactical gear.

“Good. You’re awake.” Pierce says.

You just stared at the two men. You didn’t dare to say a word.

“I’m Alexander Pierce.” He introduces himself. “We took the liberty of running tests on you while you were passed out. The tests showed us that you have powers that we can use to our advantage.” He explains.

Powers? You were beyond confused and scared at this point.

“Rumlow.” He says.

Brock nodded. He undid the restrains. You tried to take that opportunity to run away from them. Brock grabbed your arm with a bruising grip before you got to the door.

“Nice try.” Brock says.

Brock practically dragged you down the hall. He threw you in a cell and closed the door and locked it. You got up from the ground and ran out to the door, pounding your fists on it. That’s when all the pain and trauma began…

———

HYDRA meant what they said when they said they were going to use your powers to their advantage. You don’t like it when they make you do things you don’t want to do, but you don’t have any other option. When you don’t do as they say, you basically get forced to doing things by the Winter Soldier.

As of right now, you’re getting trained to use your powers so you’ll be good when you get sent on missions. HYDRA trains you to use your powers by moving things. Like right now, they’re trying to get you to move a knife off the table, but you haven’t been able to achieve it yet.

“Do it again.” Brock says.

“I don’t want to.” You mumbled.

“What?” He asks.

“I don’t want to.” You repeated.

Brock looked at the Winter Soldier, giving him a nod. You know what that means. You’re about to get forced to do something you don’t want to do. You walked backwards as he walked towards you. Your back hit the wall. The Winter Soldier was staring down at you as you looked up at him.

“Listen.” The Winter Soldier says.

“N-No.” You stuttered.

You should’ve known better than to say no to the Winter Soldier. You know the consequences of it all too well. It happens often, especially when you’re not listening. His right hand grabbed your arm with a bruising grip, making you whimper in pain. He shoved you forward, making you stumble, but you didn’t fall. You stood where you originally were a moment ago.

“Do it again.” Brock says.

You didn’t want to do it again, but you wanted to avoid the consequences of the Winter Soldier. You sighed before trying again. You focused on the knife and tried to get it to move, your eyes glowing green as you did so. It began to move a bit. Then the next thing you know, it came flying towards you. You shrieked and ducked to the floor to avoid getting stabbed. The Winter Soldier grabbed it. You looked up at the same time he was flipping the knife in his right hand. Your eyes were wide, surprised that you were able to do that.

———

You don’t know why you got dragged to a hospital with a bunch of HYDRA agents who are posing as SHIELD agents at the moment. You didn’t dare say a word the whole time you were there. Any time you moved, even if it was just shifting your foot placement on the floor, Brock would take that as a sign of you trying to escape so he would grab your arm and yank you towards him.

You saw Captain America, in disguise, looking in the vending machine that’s down the hall from where you’re standing. At first you thought he was getting a snack, but he’s not. You seen a red haired woman approach him from behind. You watched as he pushed her into a supply closet and closed the door behind him.

That gave you an idea. If you’re somehow able to get away from HYDRA, you can ask Captain America for help. You looked around you. Brock wasn’t near you and the other HYDRA agents weren’t paying you any attention. You sneakily walked away from them, keeping your head down. You began to panic as you were looking for the room Captain America is in. You opened a random door and hoped it was the right one, in which it was. You quickly stepped inside the room and closed the door behind you. Steve and Natasha averted their attention to you.

“I need your help.” You say in a shaky voice.

Steve and Natasha stared at you for a second before Steve grabbed you and pushed you against the wall.

“Who are you?” Steve asks.

“My name is Y/N.” You tell him.

“Are you with HYDRA?” He asks.

“No.” You answered. “HYDRA found me a couple years ago. They told me that they wanted to use my powers to their advantage. When I didn’t do what I was told, the Winter Soldier would get rough with me.” You explained, your eyes tearing up.

Steve stared in your eyes to see if you’re lying or not before letting go of you.

“What kind of powers do you have?” Natasha asks.

“Mind manipulation.” You tell her. “From what I remember, I got blasted by something a couple of years ago.” You explained.

That was enough to tell Steve and Natasha that you got your powers from Loki’s scepter.

“Please don’t make me go back to them.” You begged, your eyes tearing up.

“We’re not. We’re going to help you.” Steve says softly.

“Really?” You asked.

“Yes.” He almost whispers.

To disguise you, Natasha took her jacket off and put it on you so no one, especially HYDRA, suspects a thing. Steve poked his head out of the room to make sure the coast is clear. When it was, you walked in between Steve and Natasha, keeping your head down.

Steve made a call to Sam, asking him for his help, which he happily agreed to do. Steve and Natasha took you to Sam’s apartment to keep you safe.

“Make yourself at home.” Sam says to you.

You gave him a soft smile as you looked around his apartment. You took a seat on the couch to help yourself relax. Meanwhile, Steve, Sam, and Natasha were coming up with a plan to take down Pierce. You could hear them talking and you were curious to know what they’re talking about so you went to the dining room.

“What are you guys talking about?” You asked.

“We’re coming up with a plan to take down Pierce.” Steve tells you.

“Do you guys need my help?” You asked.

“Thanks for offering, but you’ll be safer here.” He says.

“Oh ok.” You say softly.

Steve stood up from the table and hugged you.

“You’re safe now. I’ll protect you from them.” Steve almost whispers.

———

Shortly after Steve took down Alexander Pierce, you and Steve started dating. You also moved into the Avengers compound. Steve was able to track down Bucky too, but you didn’t know that. Bucky moved into the compound and became an Avenger. You didn’t know that either. Steve was giving Bucky a tour of the compound while you were in the lounge room watching TV.

“You have to meet my girlfriend.” Steve says.

“You have a girlfriend? That’s great, man!” Bucky smiles, patting Steve’s shoulder.

Steve walked in the lounge room with Bucky following next to him.

“Sweetheart, I want you to meet someone.” Steve says.

You looked up at your boyfriend with a smile. Your smile faded away when you seen Bucky. Your breathing became uneven and you started to shake.

“N-No…” You say shaky voice.

Steve sat down next to you on the couch and wrapped his arms around you.

“What’s wrong, honey?” He asks.

“Keep- Keep him away from me!” You say, pointing at Bucky.

Bucky shifted his stance. He felt guilty for what he did to you.

“If I may-” Bucky begins softly, but you shook your head at him.

Tears began to stream down your face, making Bucky feel even more guilty than he already is.

“He’s not going to hurt you, sweetheart. He doesn’t do that anymore.” Steve says softly.

“You- You don’t know that!” You cried.

“He’s right.” Bucky chimes in. “If you let me, I’d like to make amends with you for what I did.” He says softly.

You shook your head no frantically.

“Maybe later.” Steve says.

Bucky nods softly and left the room, not wanting to upset you even more than you already are.

“Sweetheart, it’s ok.” Steve whispers.

“He hurt me.” You mumbled.

“I know, but he doesn’t do that anymore.” He says softly.

You know what Steve is saying is true, but the memories of Bucky as the Winter Soldier hurting you are still there.

“You have to remember that he was under HYDRA’s control when he did those things to you. You know he’d never intentionally do anything to hurt you or anyone else.” He says.

“I’m not ready to trust him.” You say quietly.

“That’s ok. Just give it time.” He says softly.

———

Now, anytime you see Bucky around the compound, you coward away and try to avoid him. It’s makes Bucky feel even more guilty about what he did to you. He wants to make amends with you and be your friend, but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you.

Like right now, you’re walking to the kitchen at the same time as Bucky. Your eyes go wide and you stop in your tracks, freezing when you see him. Bucky watches with sadness in his eyes as you slowly walked past him to get to the kitchen.

“Is it ok if I apologize?” Bucky asks softly as he walks in the kitchen, keeping his distance. “You don’t have to talk. I’ll do the talking.” Bucky says.

Maybe hearing his apology will make you want to trust him. You nodded.

“I never meant to hurt you. I would never intentionally hurt you. HYDRA had me under their control. I just wish that I could’ve broken through their control on me to help you. I mean it from the bottom of my heart when I say I’m sorry. If it means you don’t want to trust me yet, I’ll respect that. If it also means that you don’t want to be my friend, I’ll respect that too.” He explains sincerely.

You could hear the sincerity in voice. You almost want to walk over to him and hug him. Keyword- almost.

“You hurt me.” You say.

“I know. If I could go back in time and change things, I would.” He says.

“I-I need time to think about your apology.” You say.

“That’s ok. I understand. Take all the time you need.” He says.

———

Later that same week, Steve went on a mission with the Avengers. Steve told Bucky to stay at the compound to keep an eye on you without overwhelming you.

You still distanced yourself from Bucky, which he understands. You’re not ready to trust him yet, which he also understands. You’re ready when you’re ready.

Bucky was walking past the monitors that’s hooked up to the security cameras when something caught his eye. He walked in the room and looked at the cameras. He got a closer look at the camera that’s at the back entrance. He saw you getting shoved in a vehicle and it drove away.

“No.” Bucky says to himself.

He quickly suited up and got his gun and knife. He got on his motorcycle and followed the vehicle you were in, which wasn’t too far away. Bucky sped up, getting as close as he could before shooting one of the tires on the vehicle. The vehicle lost control and hit a nearby tree. Bucky parked his motorcycle and ran over to the now totaled vehicle. He ripped the door off to see you crying and shaking.

“I got you.” Bucky says softly, holding his hand out for you.

You grabbed his hand and he helped you out of the vehicle. The HYDRA agents got out of the vehicle as well. Bucky gently pushed you behind him, shielding you from them.

“If it isn’t the infamous Winter Soldier.” One agent says.

Bucky cringed when he got called the Winter Soldier. He has been called that in a while.

“You know, you can make this easier for us and help us.” Another agent says.

“I don’t do that anymore.” Bucky says.

“So you think you’re a hero now?” The agent says.

“He is.” You spoke up.

It warmed Bucky’s heart to hear you say that. That means you’re beginning to trust him.

“No one asked you to speak.” The agent says.

Bucky’s jaw clenched. He didn’t like the way that agent was just talking to you. Bucky pulled out his gun and shot the agent. The rest of the HYDRA agents held their guns at Bucky. You decided to help him by using your powers by blasting them, which knocked them out. Bucky looks at the HYDRA agents on the ground with the look of approval of what you just did.

“Let’s get out of here.” Bucky says.

You two got on his motorcycle and went back to the compound. Bucky called Steve and told him what happened. You two got cleaned up and met up in the lounge room. You two watched movies to take your mind off what just happened to you.

“I’m sorry for not trusting you before.” You apologized.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for. I’m the one who should be apologizing.” Bucky says softly.

Bucky was caught off guard when you hugged him. He felt his heart warm up even more. He smiles and hugs you back.

“I accept your apology and I want you to be my friend.” You say softly.

“I’d like that.” He whispers.

Steve came running in the room when you and Bucky pulled away from the hug. He walked over to you and hugged you tightly.

“Bucky told me what happened. Are you ok, sweetheart?” Steve asks.

“I am now. He saved me.” You say.

Steve walked over to Bucky and hugs him too.

“Thank you for saving the love of my life, Buck.” Steve says.

“Y/N is my friend now. Of course I was going to save her.” Bucky replies.

“You two are friends now?” Steve asks, looking from Bucky to you.

You nodded with a smile on your face.

“I accepted his apology too.” You say.

“That’s great!” Steve smiles, happy that his two favorite people are friends now.

Steve walks back over to you and kisses you passionately. Bucky smiles at the happy moment in front of him.

“You two are so cute together.” Bucky says, making you and Steve smile.

From that day on, you trusted Bucky and he’s also your best friend. You’re also willing to forgive and forget about what Bucky did to you as the Winter Soldier.

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

-Bucky’s Doll

[mgparker]

Come Back to Me

Marc Spector/Steven Grant x F!Reader

Summary: Mark leaves on a mission for Khonshu while you deal with a confrontation of your own. Unfortunately, this particular foe is aware of your specific skill set and uses your weakest spot to deliver a fatal wound. Laying there defenseless and abandoned, your final desire is to speak to the love of your life one last time.

warnings: ANGSTTTT!! (the fav), character backstory, flashbacks, character death, reader wound, sadness, despair etc etc, cliffhanger

masterlist!

“M-Mark?” Fuck. Fuck. Your voice was wobblier than you had expected.

“Baby?” You heard some shuffling. “What’s wrong?”

You pulled the phone away to clear your throat. “Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Despite your assurances, he wouldn’t be fooled. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Yeah, I just wanted to talk.”

The pain was spreading from your side, crawling through your torso like deadly vines. It was nearly blinding. Pulling the phone away from your mouth, you tried to steady your breathing.

This isn’t how you wanted to go. Whimpering in pain and regretting every decision that got you here.

No. What you wanted was to hear your lover’s voice one last time. The warm timbre of his essence. Your favorite sound in the entire world.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He pressed. “Where are you?”

Your man was nothing if not stubborn. “Yes, baby. I’m okay—“ you really weren’t. “What—what did you do today?”

Marc sucked in air through his clenched teeth, gripping his phone with white knuckles. “It was meant to be a surprise, but I’m coming home for a few days… our leads haven’t gotten us anywhere and Khonshu believes we just need a comfortable place to think.”

You would’ve scoffed at that if your chest and throat weren’t on fire. Khonshu believes?

The big bird knew what Marc would be returning to. He knew you were lying in a pool of your own blood.

The thought sent a surge of panic through your body, even as the pain was beginning to overwhelm you. “No! Uh—um you— you’re already so close. W-what are you stuck on?”

Tears welled in your eyes, it felt like a blazing iron rod was being shoved into your chest and dragged up slowly until every organ could feel the flame.

It was silent on the other end for a heavy moment, before Marc’s deep voice hesitantly spoke your name. His tone lifted, suspended in question.

A shake courses through you, fear beginning to blossom in the pit of your stomach. The last thing you wanted was for him to panic… and now you’re beginning to panic as well.

You weren’t ready.

A sob broke through your lips before you could stop it. As if you even had the strength to.

“Marc,” you sobbed, turning your head to gaze at the phone beside you. As if it would give you one last glimpse at the love of your life.

His breathing picks up frantically. “Where are you? Tell me now.”

On his end, fabric is wrapping around his body at a faster rate than it ever had before. He could feel the strength of Khonshu enter him, the god’s presence filling the void.

The corners of your vision darkened and just when you thought you’d scream from the pain— it was gone. Miraculously, you felt nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Your heart dropped.

“I’m sorry,” a daze washed over you. There was nothing else to do but wait. A forlorn smile graced your paling face. “I’m so sorry, baby. There isn’t much time left.”

“What time?! Stop this shit, where are you? I can make it there as soon as you tell me.”

“There’s not enough time,” you pressed. You were coming to terms with the distant bright light that was supposed to be illuminating your vision.

You would’ve wished that that was what you were seeing as you drifted off, but one wish stood above all the others—

Your desire to be with Marc and Steven.

You barely notice the frantic yelling on the other end of the line before you’re cutting it off weakly.

“I—“ you go to clear your throat but the numbness had spread too far now. “I love you. Every part of you, baby. I just— I just wanted to hear your s—sweet voice one last t-time. Okay? I love you…”

The last word died on your tongue. And the darkness had taken over before you could hear Marc’s broken response.

A strangled yell left Marc’s lips. His stomach was knotted. The shadow of Khonshu appeared in his peripheral vision.

But Marc was rooted in his own grief. His lips were quivering, snot mixing with salty tears as he bared his teeth, shaking from the pure emotion of it all.

Why wasn’t he home? He had vowed to protect you, shield you from the horrors of the world— his world— but it wasn’t enough.

He couldn’t be there all the time, and you’d always reassured him that it’d be okay. That you didn’t feel like you constantly had to look over your shoulder, you didn’t want Marc or Steven to spend every second of their life protecting yours.

It’s his fault. God, the thought made him choke. Hands flying up to grasp at his throat as if he could stop it from tightening. It’s all his fault.

Maybe—maybe it’s not too late. Maybe, just maybe, you’re alive.

He could still feel Khonshu’s presence over his shoulder. “Take me to her.”

It’s silent. The wind breezing past his ears, the serenity of the night sky brazenly mocking his wild panic.

“Now, Khonshu!” He spun around quickly, voice wavering in rage.

If it hadn’t been for the God’s power over him, Marc would’ve been with you. The only person who truly matters to him in this world.

By some beautiful twist of fate, Khonshu unexpectedly relents, nodding his giant head in the direction of a portal.

Marc couldn’t find it in himself to thank him, everything else had faded away until all he saw was your mangled body on the other side of it.

His feet took him across the rooftop at an immeasurable feet, practically flying over the distance, until his surroundings had changed completely.

“No,” he cried, dropping to his knees painfully. Shards of glass pierced his skin as if he weren’t already bleeding out with you. “Baby? Baby, wake up. Wake up!”

Your body was lifeless in his arms, and the embrace felt strange, nothing like how you’d lay in his arms at night. Fingers gripping his necklace loosely, head tucked into the crook of his neck… legs tangled with his as if your bodies were one.

Blood left a trail from your nose to your chin and shaky hands went to wipe it away before pausing in midair to hover over your face…

“Love?”

Bewildered, Steven nearly gave himself whiplash as he snapped his head away from the sight of your bloodied body.

And despite wanting to run away, his hands tightened around your frame, his lungs failing.

Everything burned, his chest, his stomach. God, his arms and legs were going numb.

And where Marc couldn’t go, Steven went.

Denial.

“Love, come on,” his head has turned to you again but his eyes were squeezed shut. “Wake up. The gag has gone long enough.”

No response. Your laughter wasn’t shaking your frame, your voice wasn’t reassuring him that it’d all been a silly, cruel joke.

“Lovie…” he knew how much you hated the name and despite it, absolutely nothing.

Weren’t you going to argue? Playfully punch him in the shoulder as you giggled at him to never call you that again. Weren’t you going to put on that half-assed angry frown that you always did before smiling and pulling him to your lips?

Weren’t you going to kiss him and tell him everything would be alright?

His heart dropped with the realization that you already had.

You already spoken those words sweetly and he’d dismissed them, twisted them into something rageful when all he should’ve done was pulled you into his arms and never let you go.

“Steven,” you tried, grabbing onto his hands with an unusual hint of desperation. Almost as if you knew something he didn’t. “Sweetheart, it’s going to be okay. Everything is going to be alright.”

The sincerity in your eyes practically sparkled or maybe that was just the pure love that you felt for him. But it didn’t get through to him this time, instead his panic and anxiety twisting his words and actions into something else.

“How can you say that?” Steven stressed. “How can you be so positive all time?! Consider the possibility that maybe sometimes you’re just wrong!”

His soul shattered when he realized… it was the last time he’d ever hear those words.

He hadn’t believed in them and now this happened.

Steven forced his eyes to open slowly.

In the pale moonlight, your face was still as beautiful as the first time he ever saw you.

It was early in the morning; the sun was barely over the horizon and the streets of London were not all too busy for this hour. 

Thankfully for Marc, the little coffee house that was nestled in the array of buildings on Russell Street was practically empty. Save for the steady stream of customers who would fly in and out with a streaming cup of coffee or tea in their hands.

But tucked in the corner of the large window seat was you. 

Exactly as he’d seen you in his numerous hours of laborious research. Hair tucked behind your ears, oversized round glasses slipping off the tip of your nose, lips tucked in concentration, a loose sweater hanging off your shoulders. 

There was a sense of tranquility about you. A stillness despite the bustling customers mere feet from you. 

A girl immersed in her own world; a utopia all within the threads of your pale green sweater, the gentle sway of your feet under the table, the hint of a smile at the corner of your lips.

How odd it was to find such astounding beauty in someone you knew everything and nothing about. 

Because in your little world, you may have been closed off from the reality around you, but an open book to anyone who cared to look. 

And Marc couldn’t see why anyone wouldn’t.

He just hated that he had to be the one to shatter your universe.

“Excuse me,” Marc said when he finally worked up the courage to enter the shop. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

Then you looked up at him and he knew it was a sight he’d remember for the rest of his life, an image that would flash behind his eyelids whenever he closed his eyes.

Your eyes piercingly studied his through your eyelashes for a long moment. The hint of a smile was gone. 

“Sure,” you eventually smiled brightly. 

A dazzling smile that kept him rooted to the spot a little longer than necessary. 

Thankfully, you didn’t seem to mind it. “You’re American?”

Marc finally sat down next to you, gripping his chocolate muffin tightly. “Actually, I’m from Chicago.”

If your chuckle was charming, he couldn’t imagine your laugh. 

“Which is in America, if I recall correctly.”

“You do, it is... in America.” God he needed to work on his social skills. He felt like a bug under a microscope. Partly because of your particular line of work, mostly because you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. 

You shut your book softly. “What brings you to London?”

Marc was sure you would’ve shut him down by now, questioned his intentions or tried to put his ass down. But you were graceful, serene... Seemingly not worried at all about his intentions.

If he’d asked, you would’ve told him that you had a keen eye for vibrant souls. His being one of the brightest you’d stumbled upon. 

“Uh, work,” he replied unconvincingly. “What about you? You’re a fellow American yourself, aren’t you?”

“What gave it away?” You were teasing him.

Maybe he could hear that laugh again after all. “Your accent and the whole sweater thing you’ve got going on? Practically screams California.”

Your laugh was surprisingly booming, genuine. He found himself smiling at the sound of it.

It can’t be this easy to fall in love with someone you just met. 

“It’s New York actually,” you corrected between fading giggles. “Close enough.”

Embarrassment tinted his ears red. “It’s not.”

Smiling widely, you shook your head in agreement. “It’s really not.”

It’s silent for a few moments and just when Marc thinks you’re going to open your book again, you speak softer than before. 

“I’m assuming you sat in my little corner for a reason, Mr. Spector.”

The gravity of your simple statement uncharacteristically flew past his head. Instead, he was a little more focused on trying to hear that twinkling laugh again. 

“What’re you doing?” You rose an eyebrow, watching as the man wildly looked around the space you were occupying. From the two adjoining walls to the wooden round table. 

“Looking for any indication that this is in fact entirely your corner. So far I see nothing except...” There was no way he wasn’t making a fool out of himself but he was in too deep to stop--

The pin suddenly dropped.  

“I didn’t tell you my name.”

A nonchalant expression adorned your face. “People like you don’t seek people like me unless they need something.”

His brain short-circuits. 

“People like me...” Marc repeated, his voice lifting slightly as if almost in question. 

“I’m aware of every single entity within my range whom fit the qualifications of a very secure database. Yelena Belova, Alexei Shostakov, Spider-Man who happens to be around on a school trip...” you listed idly, twirling the little stick that was stained with your hazelnut coffee. “... Marc Spector.”

The rose-colored glasses were slowly slipping off. His years of servitude under Khonshu’s hand began to harden his exterior until he could finally look at you as a threat. Just to be sure. 

“Why would I be on that list?”

You motioned toward the untouched muffin. “Are you gonna eat that?”

“Why would I be on that list?” His jaw clenched.

“Well, why wouldn’t you?” You take a sip. “Moon Knight is an incredibly promising prospect in the eyes of those who protect our world. You’re incredibly powerful.”

Marc scoffed. Is that what he was to you? A potential business deal, a recruit?

“But it doesn’t really matter to me anyway.”

His eyes shot up in interest. The corner of your lips had turned up again.

“I don’t work for any agency anymore,” you explained. “I’m just a girl with an incredible skill set and impressive resume.”

“Humble much?”

There was a knowing twinkle in your eye. “Only when I need to be.” 

Your stares met with a shared interest. As if you two were really seeing each other for the first time. 

To Marc, your beauty was astounding, ethereal. He could only hope that you’d choose to stay in his life.

“I did come for a reason... I have a mission and I could use someone with your specific skill set.”

“You need help.”

“Well, I didn’t say that exactly--”

“It’s what you meant,” you narrowed your eyes playfully. “Thankfully, I’m a woman of the people. But why should I help you?”

“I’m backed into a corner. I’m just trying to do things right in the best way I can. But I need you to trust me.”

“Trust is gained, Spector.”

“Then allow me to earn it.” The mercenary countered.

You allowed your eyes to look over him. At his open grey button up, his ironed white shirt and black pants. His ebony hair, brushed away from his face, sprinkled with a hint of grey. The scruff on his jaw and the brown of his eyes. 

Falling in love with someone you just met can’t be this easy.

Your resolve crumbled and you knew he was going to be in your life for the unforeseeable future. The fluttering in your abdomen pulled you in before you could stop it. 

Not that you wanted to. 

“So what does this mission entail?”

Slowly, a genuine smile curved Marc Spector’s lips, one that you reciprocated with a blinding beauty that made his heart nearly stop.

And as he walked out of the coffee shop that morning, your number scribbled on a note that was neatly folded in his pocket, there was a sudden change... brief but enough for Steven Grant to suddenly find himself on Russell Street. Confused and a bit frightened, but only for a quick moment-- 

Until he turned his head and gazed into the large coffeehouse window...

To see you for the first time, with eyes that had adoringly gazed upon yours for hours. 

And the sight was like a breath of fresh air, filling his lungs with something he didn’t quite know he needed. 

The close-lipped smile that spread from cheek to cheek behind the fist of your closed hand, idle strands of hair that fell to cover your joyous expression, the simple rise and fall of your chest...

And between the moment that he saw you and Marc reemerged to front, Steven Grant couldn’t help but wonder who had made your eyes light up in that way. 

Steven Grant wondered if he had the chance, could he make you happy?

But he couldn’t see the light in your eyes anymore. Eyelids rested over those effervescent eyes and a part of him finally shattered. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered brokenly. Bringing your forehead close to his, his lips tenderly touched your warm skin. “I’m so sorry, love. I’m sorry.”

Softly, as if to not disturb you, he reached for your hand, catching a glimpse of the fading paint job he’d done on your nails before he left last week. 

“I-I-I can’t, I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He couldn’t breathe anymore, gasping against your body as he tightened his embrace. 

Acceptance. 

With a shudder, Marc kept his eyes closed despite the sudden switch. 

This way he could imagine that you weren’t dead, you weren’t cold and lifeless. No, you were alive. Finally squeezing in a nap between your tireless research, hours upon hours at the computer, hacking databases and trying everything you could to help the boys. 

Yes, yes, he could take a moment to indulge in that fantasy. 

Because once he opened his eyes, it was finally over. Marc Spector would have to live without you. 

“How wasteful...”

That pent-up anger reared its ugly head. “What?”

If he wasn’t holding onto you, Marc would’ve committed violence against the god. 

“To let such a valuable asset go would be a pitiful waste,” Khonshu drawled from behind his avatar. 

Marc shook his head at the audacity. “I don’t want to hear this. I--I don’t want to hear this.”

“Perhaps you do, Spector,” the god insinuated. “Feel the warmth of her skin... look at the color beneath her skin...”

This was cruel. “No...”

“Your grief may be premature--” what? “-- her fate lies in no one’s hands but her own.”

He finally looked up. “Stop with the riddles. What the hell are you talking about?”

“Just as I once appeared before you, the goddess Isis requires an avatar. Your lover is still in the fight between life and death.”

Deception was a skill Marc was certain Khonshu had mastered but yet, he found nothing but the truth in his tone. He felt the god’s sincerity. 

Shock stilled his body, mouth slightly open as he stared into the night sky and then slowly back at you.

Despite his aversion to serving a god, the only thought running through his mind was the desire for you to come back to him.

In any way, he’d have you. 

Otherwise, neither he nor Steven would make it. 

“This is up to you, baby,” Marc whispered into your hair. “But fight. Please... fight. Come back to me.”

Please.

Come back to me.

The voice bounced off the walls of the chamber, echoing until it faded away.

It was the voice that would always bring you back. 

“You have a choice to make,” a different voice reminded you, sweet and smooth. “Be my apprentice and help me restore the world to what it once was.”

You were on the tip of the iceberg, held back from what you’d seen Marc and Steven deal with for years but itching to get back to the broken man that was begging for you. 

“What does that even mean?” You groaned. 

Isis gave you no further explanation than what she’d told you before. You glared at her for another moment before feeling a phantom pain shoot across your body. Well, metaphysical body.

You realized you’re running out of time.

“So I do this or what? Die? I love how you all deal in absolutes,” your snark was still intact. “Any room for negotiation?”

The Goddess of Magic and Fertility towered over you, mighty with large wings that spanned the length of the golden chamber. Eyes that pierced into your soul, quite literally, and a beauty that wasn’t made to be seen by mortal eyes.

It was easy to tell why. Such beauty was captivating, breath-stealing and enough to send any man or woman to their knees.

But yet here you stood, slightly annoyed and about three feet under. 

Unamused, Isis blinked expectantly. 

Please... Air caught in your throat. Baby...

The decision suddenly wasn’t hard at all. 

And it seemed as if Isis knew it as well. 

“Will you be my apprentice and help me restore the world to what it once was?” She repeated.

The other half of your soul was missing and you knew how to soothe the agonizing pain for the both of you…

“Yes.”

[petertingle-yipyip]

SO LONG LONDON - STEVEN GRANT

Pairing: steven x reader (established) (and then marc shows up)

Word Count: 2,489

Summary: Dating Steven was always a bit of a gamble. So when a beautiful woman comes to town claiming your boyfriend as her husband, you find a whole new side to the man you love.

//honestly idk what happened here, just go with it//

It made no sense.

You two were scheduled together all the time. Donna claimed it was the only way to make sure Steven actually showed up to his shifts. And for the most part, it worked. Occasionally, you two would have a day or two different and he wouldn’t show or would be ridiculously late. But you were usually able to explain it away to your manager so Steven wouldn’t get in trouble.

But now, it has been three straight days of Steven pulling no-calls-no-shows. Even when you tried to call him, it went straight to voicemail. Like his phone wasn’t even on.

You were walking around the city that day after work. You picked up some lunch and were looking at your phone, contemplating whether or not you wanted to try calling out texting him again, but the sharp whizz of a woman on a moped cut you off.

You stopped so suddenly in your tracks that your phone fell from your hands as you scrambled to catch your food.

“I’m so sorry!” The woman said quickly, suddenly in front of you with your phone in hand. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” You shrugged it off and held a hand out for your phone. She went to pass it back to you but her eyes lingered on your screen where Steven’s contact photo was waiting.

“It was my fault for not looking.” You tried while she quietly stared at the screen. Your fingers hooked on your device and with a slight tug, you got it back.

“I’m Layla, by the way.” She said when you had moved to leave.

“Y/N.” You nodded. “Nice to meet you.” You tried to leave again but she spoke up.

“Boyfriend?”

“What?”

“The guy on your phone.” She gestured to your hand where your phone still sat. As subtle as possible, your thumb hit the lock button to hide the photo that was still waiting. “Is that your boyfriend?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “He’s M.I.A. right now so I’m starting to worry. Normal girlfriend things, y’know? He’s a bit of a sleepwalker so…” You finished awkwardly.

“Would you…” She began and your brows raised. “Would you wanna get some coffee maybe? I think we should talk some more.”

“Oh, well.. Thank you but I should get home. I’m like three missed calls away from a missing persons report.” You tried to joke.

“It’s just that your boyfriend looks an awful lot like my husband.”

“What?” Your heart sunk.

“Yeah, uh..” She hurried to pull her phone from her bag. “My husband, Marc Spector. Maybe you’ve heard his name? He comes and goes for work but then I got a call and now I’m here trying to find him.”

“Oh!” You sighed in relief. “Okay, it’s probably a coincidence because my boyfriend’s name is.. Steven… Gra…”

Your sentence trailed off as Layla showed you her screen and a photo of her and someone who looked exactly like Steven faced you. His posture was different and you assumed his aura was as well. His hair was styled differently and he even wore different clothes than Steven would. Too similar to ignore but too different to convince you.

“Wow, um, that resemblance really is… Y’know what, maybe we should get some coffee.” You agreed.

After a while of you two talking, neither of you were convinced the other person was talking about the same person. Layla’s ‘Marc’ seemed to have a completely different personality than Steven. He seemed rougher, insufferable even. To be able to completely abandon your wife with no explanation was borderline appalling, and Steven would never. He hardly even went to run errands without giving you a full list of everywhere he intended to go.

As far as you could tell, the only similarity was their looks.

You offered to bring her to Steven’s apartment to show her that he was a different person with a different life. But when you knocked, your usual habit just in case he was home, he actually answered the door.

“Hello, Love.” He smiled at you, though the expression quickly faded when he saw yours. “Something wrong?”

“Steven, this is Layla. Layla, Steven.” You introduced before she had pushed past you both and into the apartment.

Steven looked at you in confusion but you smiled in apology with a small shrug. He stepped aside and gestured for you to come in so you did. Layla was investigating the small space and Steven was staying close to your side. You could feel his fingers tapping the back of your hand, his silent request to interlock your fingers together, but you put your hands in your jacket pocket instead.

“This is your flat, Marc?” She asked and you were thankful someone finally spoke to break the tension.

“I’m Steven, actually.” He answered.

“And you live here with her?” She gestured to you.

“No.” You answered for yourself. “I stay a few blocks over.”

“It’s my mum’s flat, actually.” Steven defended.

“You guys are talking again?” She asked as she found one of the poetry books on his shelves.

They exchanged remarks about the French poet and the hieroglyphics on Steven’s desk. You watched quietly and were finding nothing that could indicate Steven was Marc. But then again, the one French poet he knew just so happened to be Layla’s favorite. And his explanation of hieroglyphs was the same as hers.

Was it possible?

While the two turned to argue about divorce papers and Steven’s identity, you were distracted by the unusual gym bag on the table. You glanced and saw them take their conversation to another side of the room so you went over to the bag. You were thankful it was already unzipped so you pulled the sides apart and were dumbfounded by what you saw.

Stacks of money, a gun, a golden bug, and a passport.

You were drawn to the document so you pulled it out quietly and opened it, seeing a different name printed on the page.

“Marc Spector.” You read to yourself and your heart came to a screeching halt in your chest.

“Who’s Marc?” You asked suddenly, drawing attention to yourself. You held up the passport expectantly.

“Oh, jeez, uh…” Steven rushed over, crumbling the divorce papers under his arm as he reached for the passport.

“No.” You held it further away. “Who are you?”

“C’mon, love. You know me.” He tried, almost desperate for you to be on his side.

“I don’t think I do.” You said sadly. “Who’s Marc? Is he your twin brother or something?”

“I don’t know.” He answered quickly.

“He is Marc and he needs to tell me if we’re getting this divorce or not.” Layla spoke up and snatched the papers from under Steven’s arm.

“You seem lovely, Layla, truly. But I’m not Marc Spector.” He insisted and you so badly wanted to believe him. “I’m Steven Grant and I work at a gift shop. Well, I used to work at a gift shop. I just want my life back.”

“Doesn’t seem like you know which life that is, do you?” You slammed the passport against his chest.

“Y/N, please wait.” He reached for your hand but you backed away.

You nearly ran down the hall to the elevator. You needed to get away. From Layla. From Steven or Marc or whoever the hell he was.

It felt like you didn’t know him anymore. A different name you could live with. A secret job, sure, you could get over that. But a wife? An entirely opposite personality? That shook your entire world, the very foundation of your relationship. You could justify the rest but the idea of him loving someone else so wholly and being someone else so entirely, it had you questioning everything you knew.

About him. About life and love. Even about yourself.

It made you wonder if you could walk away from it all. Say so long to the quiet london boy that stole your heart.

You were back in your apartment before you knew it and you leaned against the closed door for a moment once you were inside. Your head was spinning with the new situation and you decided you didn’t want to think about it. You pushed yourself up and headed to your fridge, picking out one of the cans you usually reserved for after dinner or nights you had friends over for drinks and movies. You took it into your room and got changed before dropping onto your couch.

You put your can on the side table and picked up the remote, flipping through channels until a familiar movie played. You let it run as background noise while you read your book and slipped your drink. But despite your best efforts, Steven was still present in your mind. When you were picturing the main male character, all you could picture was your boyfriend. One of the female characters started to look like Layla. It drove you insane.

You threw the book to the coffee table and dropped to your back across the cushions. You didn’t know how long you had been staring at your ceiling when someone knocked on your door. The first time the noise came, you didn’t move. Surely whoever it was would leave. But after a few seconds the knocking came again, with more authority than the first time. so you hauled yourself up and shuffled over. 

Opening the door, you were greeted by the ghost of your boyfriend. For the most part, it was the same man. Same clothes and same facial features. But his dark curls were pushed out of his face. His posture stood taller and his shoulders pulled back.

It didn’t take long for you to recognize you weren’t looking at Steven.

You moved to close the door when his hand shot out to stop you. You tried leaning some of your body weight against the door but it hardly budged. You muttered a small complaint to yourself before stepping back and opening the door fully.

You stared at the imposter expectantly.

“Not gonna let me in?” He asked, gesturing slightly towards your apartment.

Even his voice was different. Missing the accent, deeper and fuller than Steven’s. Seeing the more mature sound come from your boyfriend’s face sent goosebumps across your skin.

“Why would I? I don’t know you.” You shrugged.

“C’mon, Y/N.” He groaned and ran a hand down his face. “You really wanna have this conversation in the hall?”

You sighed heavily and as if on cue, your nosy neighbor was leaving her apartment. You grabbed Marc’s jacket and pulled him in, giving the woman a quick wave and a tight smile. You heard her question who he was but you shut the door before having to answer. You stared at the door for a second to collect yourself before turning to face Marc, who had already made himself comfortable on your couch.

“Little early in the day for drinks, don’t you think?” He tried to joke and shook the empty can but you didn’t laugh.

“Well when I find out my boyfriend is married and absolutely not who I thought he was, I’m entitled to a spiked lemonade… Just be glad it isn’t the bottle of vodka in my freezer.” You countered, the words spilling faster than you could control them. “So who the hell are you this time?”

“My name’s Marc.” He began and you rolled your eyes. “Steven and I are…”

“Twins?” You tried your earlier guess. You just desperately wanted something simple for an explanation. A case of mistaken identity among twins was simple enough.

“No, not exactly.”

“But you are the one married to that girl, Layla, right?” You pressed.

“Yeah.” He nodded and a small smile crossed his lips. “Steven’s never met her till today.”

“Well…” You said awkwardly, coming a few steps closer. “She’s very pretty.”

He smiled a little wider for a second before he seemed to remember why he was there.

“Listen, I came here because I wanted to try and explain what I could to you.” He began carefully.

“Is Layla right then, Steven’s just an act?” You cut in sharply. “A fake name so you can lead a life away from her? Because it seems to me that that woman loves you. Why she would is baffling to me and why you would divorce her is even more ludacris.”

“He’s not an act and he’s not fake.” He seemed to flinch at the last word. “Maybe he’s not all that real, either. It’s…” He blew out a heavy sigh. “It’s complicated, Y/N/N.”

“Don’t you dare.” You said tightly, closing the distance to put yourself in front of Marc. “You’ve existed to me for all of ten minutes. You have no right to call me that.”

“You’re right.” His hands went up in surrender. “I’m sorry.”

“How do you know about that anyway?”

“I know pretty much everything about Steven’s life.” He shrugged innocently. “You, the gift shop, his really shitty boss. I know what bus he takes, that goddamn fish. Jesus, I even know what underwear brand he wears.”

“How? Why? I just-“ You groaned and pushed your hands into your hair. “What the hell is going on, Marc?”

“Sometimes…” He spoke carefully, as if he was treading around land mines. “There were a few nights when you would come to Steven’s, or walking back to his place after work, it wouldn’t be him… He wouldn’t take over in time and it would be me. Kinda got to know you through that.”

“Oh my god.” You said quietly, your hand covering your mouth as you sunk into the chair beside you. “When he would be super quiet and just nodding or making little humming noises…”

“Yeah…” He hesitantly agreed, clearly embarrassed. “I tried to kind of push him forward but- I don’t know how this shit works, Y/N. I’m just living with it at this point.”

“So… You’re Marc and he’s Steven, but you’re also the same?” You questioned as the information tried to sink in. “Like you two are-“ You interlocked your fingers together.

“Same body, different people.” He nodded. “I know it’s a lot but don’t.. Don’t leave him over this.”

“Leave him?” Your brows furrowed and you almost laughed. “I’m not gonna leave him over this.”

“Really?” His brows raised quizzically. “Cause it didn’t seem that way when you walked out.”

“I can handle personalities, I think. It’s the marriage that’s a problem.”

“To be fair, it’s my marriage.” He offered. “Like I said, he never knew her.”

“I just need a day or two to let it process.” You confessed. “And I think you need a day or two to figure out things with Layla.”

“Yeah, probably right.”

“And if you two work it out, me and Layla are gonna have to figure out an arrangement.”

[loud-mouth-loser]

not him - 2

summary: marc has had his eye on you for a while now. he's seen your interactions with steven and has held himself back from taking you for himself, but what happens after he finally makes a move?

pairing: marc spector x reader

rating: more angst

cw: pining (really intense pining), jealousy, miscommunication, mentions of past kiss.

wc: 2.7k

part one

[author's note is at the end of the chapter to avoid chapter spoilers!]

---

Marc’s POV

It’s your laugh, that soothing, sweet sound – so inviting that he wants it to soak right into his skin. When he hears it, he holds it close to him, making sure he doesn’t miss a single note. Letting it replay in his head until the next time he sees you. 

Marc has never considered himself a funny guy – or hadn’t for a while. He never had a reason to joke around, a reason to smile or laugh, but then there was you.

So now he tries his best to incite that laughter, if only for a mere taste of your sweetness.

He’s equally addicted to that view. The sight of soft lips parting into a bright smile, your shoulders shaking with each stilted breath, your eyes glistening with unerupted joy; a bliss that he’s craved to know since the day his brother passed. And it’s genuine. 

Everything about you is genuine. 

Then, when you come down from the laughter, you look up at him with a ghost of a giggle still thrumming in the air, still tugging at the corner of your mouth. He can’t help but stare back, wishing this moment could last forever. 

It’s just you and him, nursing sweating bottles of beer on his ratty old couch, the TV running quietly in the background as you unconsciously lean closer as the night progresses. He plunges into that gaze wrapped in innocent moments and admiration, a look that whispers unspoken sentiments and unattainable promises. 

You are looking at him, yes, but you also see him. 

He feels it wrap around him, a warmth that reminds him he’s worth being around, that you want to be there with him. It sparks a revelation within himself that if he could make you laugh, or even look at him the way you do, maybe…being him is ok. 

And maybe he wants to stay.   

But then there’s that smile – no, not your usual amused grin or the bashful one he attempts to lure out whenever he gains enough confidence to tell you how pretty you look – the cherry-red lie that’s specially curated for Steven. 

It’s a mask you use to preserve your friendship, to convince the oblivious man that you’re happy for him even when your side of the bond is crumbling, struggling to stand up straight. 

The first time Marc saw that smile was from the reflection in his apartment. 

He usually doesn’t stir or interfere while Steven is fronting, unless there’s an emergency of course, but there was a pang of energy that woke him up. And now he’s wondering if it was you. 

He watched broodily from the fish tank; jaw clenched tight as Steven sat in front of you holding your hands in his. He knows he shouldn’t be jealous, but he can’t help the ire burning low in his chest as he watches you position yourself closer to Steven, eager to hear what he has to say. 

Marc’s eyes drift from your hopeful face to your joined hands. 

He wonders how that feels: to hold your smaller hands in his, to squeeze them just so as to remind him that you’re real and there with him, to feel you squeeze back and run the soft pads of your fingers over his callouses. 

Your softness smoothing over his jagged ends. 

You like it – the touch. Steven’s touch.

He can see it. 

But you’ve always liked it when Steven gives you physical affection, even if it was all platonic. You’d lean into him, practically craving it, eagerly presenting yourself to his hand. And he’d give it to you, merely enjoying the closeness you offer him – nothing more. 

Your eyes are wide, and you lean in, listening intently, but at the same time, you’re not hearing a thing. Marc can see that you’re lost in Steven, a feeling he’s often had around you. 

The giddy comfort you felt from his touch instantly dissolves as he continues to speak, “And we kissed…” You lean back from him, quickly covering your reaction with a blank expression. Marc can see right through it. 

Needless to say, Marc also isn’t too happy hearing about Steven’s escapades with his estranged wife; He’s always been protective of Layla, but now more than ever. Layla had once been his rock, keeping him grounded as life attempted to sweep him away. She was the only person he trusted for a while, the only one he could lean on and hold whenever he wanted to give up. 

Because of that, he left. 

Too much of a great thing can only lead to a horrible ending. 

Right?

He convinced himself he did it because he didn’t want her to get involved in his life of violence, of his life as an avatar. She was always getting dragged into business that wasn’t hers, used as bait to lure him out of the shadows, and Khonshu was starting to hint at making her his next avatar. 

That is a reason, a sound reason, but he can admit now that that wasn’t the main reason. At some point, Marc realized could never love her the way she wanted him to.

When he first felt it, he couldn’t shake it. He was forced to face it until it utterly consumed his thoughts, until he could taste it hanging from each word, turning every whisper into a sour void. He felt unworthy of her affections and ashamed that he continued to take and take, drinking in every last drop of warmth she could supply. Anything to numb that looming darkness that threatens to drag him under the bloody viscous waves of his past. 

And all he could give in return was surface-level words and cool kisses. Guilt dripped from his embrace and soaked against her soft skin, and he knew he had to pull away. 

Steven, the lovesick puppy, was completely oblivious to what he was inviting her back into: danger, violence, and an unspoken truth.

Marc should be jealous that his wife and alter are continuing to fraternize behind his back, or angry that Steven went against his wishes and welcomed her back into his life, but he’s not. Mostly, he’s nervous to face what he wasn’t strong enough to do, scared that he’ll continue to push it away until it swallows him whole. 

Then there’s you.

Your eyes are glassy and empty as you nod robotically as Steven rambles, lost in his own words. “...the most brilliant woman I’ve ever met.” Your hands attempt to retreat from his and Steven doesn’t notice, but he does. 

The audacity of Steven to talk about this stuff to your face astounds him. How can a man who shares his body be so clueless? So stupid to not see what’s right in front of him, offering herself for any ounce of attention he shows.

“I love her.” 

And there he sees your heart shatter. 

“That’s great, Steven. I’m so happy for you.”

—

All he can do is stare back, eyes taking in your swollen lips and wrinkled clothes. Your bodies breathe together, catching a breath as you process what just happened. There’s a voice in the back of his head urging him to pull you back in, to drink the ambrosia of your lips until you melt against him and beg for more, while he still has the chance. But he knows that if he were to move the spell would be broken.

And he was right.

When the stare breaks so does the moment. You clumsily slip off of his lap and sit back on your side of the couch. His hand hovers over your figure as you move away from him, a ghost of the touch he once had on you, desperate to stop you from leaving him. Fingers grip painfully into his palms as they curl into a fist of frustration and loss.

You both sit there for a second. It’s easier to think when your bodies are pressed against each other. When you aren’t tempted to lean in for one more kiss.

This wasn’t supposed to happen, he wasn’t supposed to get this far. 

Ever since meeting you, he’s tried his best to keep his distance, to watch you pine for Steven from afar as he harbored his own longing for you. Marc never believed he deserved it, you, always taking three steps back before he could touch a perfect thing. Before he could ruin what was already breaking. 

He’s supposed to be detached from real life, from anything outside of his work. He’s convinced himself that he was okay with letting you go, even promising Steven he would give him complete control of the body once he was done with Khonshu. But now he doesn’t think he can. He can’t leave you.

Marc finally builds the courage to look over at you. 

Your eyes are closed, not squeezed shut, just closed. The soft glow of the TV pools over your body. You could probably feel his eyes on you so you begin to talk. 

“I’m confused.”

“Confused.” He repeats with a soft nod, letting the word settle in his mind.

He doesn’t know what else to say. Of course, you’re confused, this whole night has been a series of bold actions and heated words. One second you’re having a pity party at your crush’s flat and the next you’re crawling on top of his alter. You still haven’t had time to really go through your emotions.

“You like me…” You finally look at him, brows furrowed as you navigate through your thoughts.

“I do.”

“And I like Steven…” He frowns at that but nods. You both know it, that’s how you ended up here in the first place. “..And Steven likes Layla, but you’re still…married?”

He sighs, “It’s been over for months, sweetheart.”

“Well, aren’t we a group of lovers?” You joke. 

Neither one of you laughs.

Deep brown eyes meet yours, “I meant what I said. Steven is blind if he can’t see what’s right in front of him.”

“I-I don’t know where to go from here.”

He places his hand on top of yours. And you let him. 

“Stay…” He didn’t mean to say it out loud, didn’t mean to say anything at all, but when he’s with you, he feels out of control. 

He sees the little furrow of your brows as you digest the implications of his suggestion. Stay and forget about the consequences. Stay and pretend it's just us. Stay and let me love you.  

“Marc –” 

He interrupts you before you can finish your thought. 

“For tonight.” He just isn’t sure he’d be able to take what you were about to say. If you could stay like this, even for one more night, just you and him and the memory of that embrace, he thinks, maybe he’ll be okay. Even if you leave him in the morning. Even if you run away from what could have been. “It’ll be easier to understand after a night of rest.” 

You stare solemnly at the edge of the couch, “Yeah.” For a moment he holds some hope that he’ll be able to hold you tonight and sleep like everything is right in the world. But then you gently slip your hand out from under his. “I should probably go though.” His palm burns. You push yourself off the couch in search of your discarded jacket and shoes.

“You can crash here,” He feels desperate. You’re slipping from his hands and he’s frantically grasping at the evading warmth. “It’s late and there’s more than enough space in this flat.” He wants to reach out again but he’s afraid you’ll reject his touch this time.

“Steven has work tomorrow morning.” You say sheepishly as you slip an arm into your jacket. Of course, you’d know Steven’s schedule. “He needs to wake up early…and it would be awkward to find me on the couch.” As if he’d let you sleep anywhere but in his arms.

“Ok, but I should walk you home.”

You tug at the bottom of your coat, flattening it onto your body. “It’s fine,” You look back at him, hovering by the door, “Really, I’m fine.” He doesn’t miss how you’ve switched from talking about the situation to yourself.

He murmurs your name, not knowing what he can say to make you stay.

“Marc.” You echo back, voice soft and – tired. “I guess I’ll see you later.” 

—

“Whot was that?”

Steven didn’t wake up for work the next day. In fact, he didn’t ‘wake up’ at all. Marc did. He woke up around 1 pm with a throbbing headache and a loud, berating British man yelling at him from the inside out. 

After you left, he sat there in silence and moped, hoping you’d stop in the middle of your commute home and realize you wanted to come back to him. You didn’t. Once he received the ‘got home safe.’ text from you, he decided to drink whatever was left in the fridge before passing out. He’s regretting it now.

“Steven, please.” He presses a hand over his forehead, trying to soothe the ache as he blearily stares at the mess of empty bottles from last night. “Not right now.”

“Not right now?! You snogged my best friend!”

“Oh, come on.” Marc tugs on a shirt before making his way to the bathroom. In the small cheap mirror, Steven stares right back at him, a disgruntled glare burning right into his skin, “You weren’t going to do it.” That makes him blush. 

“If–If I had known…”

Marc tries to ignore him, splashing some cool water on his face to wake himself up. How can Steven even complain about it when – “Wait – how did you even find out?”

“I saw her…” He says uneasily, “pulling away.”

Marc groans into the towel as he dries off, “You were there? How much did you see?” 

“It’s not like I planned for it! I’m not a perve or anything, I was just…pushed to the front all of a sudden!” Shit, he must’ve gotten too excited. “I tried to leave as soon as I got there.”

“For the record, I wasn’t planning on any of that happening either.” 

“Why would you do it then? You’re going to confuse her.”

“Confuse her? Steven,” He shakes his head, “She’s obviously in love with you and you still wave whatever weird relationship you have with my wife in her face.”

“Well, hold on a minute–”

“Go back to sleep, Steven.” Marc walks over to the couch, longingly staring at the spot he was in last night. “I gotta clean up.”

–

Your POV

Your hands nervously fiddle with your phone, opening, closing, and reopening your messaging app. You stare at the text you sent last night:

‘got home safe.’

You actually got home 15 minutes before sending the text, but he doesn’t need to know it took you that long to type out 3 words. It’s crazy, you tell yourself, how many texts you drafted, edited, and deleted before hitting send. What if he doesn’t want to hear from you again? What if Steven gets it instead of him? What if he thinks you’re being clingy just because you shared one kiss? One, blissful, enamoring, show-stopping, kiss?

He hasn’t answered it yet. 

Read 1:56 am

Which is fine. You’re fine. It’s only 3 pm and Steven is probably still at work, so he hasn’t had a chance to text you back. It’s fine.

You hate the way your heart skips a beat when a typing bubble comes up. Fuck, did he see your pathetic attempts to text him earlier? You quickly exit the app, not wanting to expose yourself if he sends the text and you immediately ‘read’ it. The phone vibrates abruptly in your hand as a banner drops from the top of your screen.

‘Hey 🤠! –’ Already from the emoji use you can tell it’s Steven, ‘–Wanna meet up for tea ~4:30? Let’s go t…’

You let out a sigh. You know you shouldn’t feel disappointed. Steven is your best friend and you love hanging out with him, but there’s this anticipating giddiness when you think about Marc. The feeling you used to have about Steven…

It’s crazy how one kiss can flip your life so completely. Not just that, but how fast you went from mourning the chance of one relationship to melting into the development of another.

You open up the conversation. You really should talk to him. 

‘okay 🫡 i’ll meet you there'

---

a/n: sorry this took so long (literal months). i had half of this written for a while and was so sure i'd get it done within a few weeks, but then I let it sit in my drive until I picked it up TODAY and finished it lmao.

so most of this chapter delves into marc's thoughts before and during what happened in the first part, some of steven's thoughts + the aftermath of the kiss. i know a lot of ppl wanted a confrontation between the reader and steven, but I didn't want to rush into it when we don't even know how marc really feels ab the reader :3

i thought it would be interesting if steven found out about the kiss through marc (and I also didn't know how to write out the reader admitting it to him) bc that's how marc found out ab steven breaking the readers heart. i also wanted to explore how the reader is grappling with her feelings towards the two guys!

i def want to write more, but I can't promise when the next part will be out. I'm a notoriously inconsistent and SLOW writer, so bare with me. thank you for all the support on my angsty journey and I hope you enjoyed this chapter <3

[blue-sadie]

Save Him

Moon System x Ex Reader

Summary: he thought he could save you but leaving you was the worst thing he ever did

Warning: pet death, dog name = buddy

Yn/3rd person pov

I groaned out in pain as I dragged my battered body across my floor crawling over to my fur baby "buddy" I chocked as I finally reached him I felt my eyes glaze over with tears as I looked over his wounded body "buddy".

My hands trembled as they went to touch him "no no no" I cried and slowly cradled him into my body "please stay with me please" I kissed his snot "p-please don't leave me".

The tears fell from my cheeks onto his fur dampening it I screamed out hoping someone would come help me "someone please" the tears flowed down my cheeks like a river and my lips quivered.

I let my eyes wonder over the recked apartment searching for anything that could help me my eyes locked on my phone I threw at the intruders "come on" I cried and slowly clawed my way to it still holding buddy tightly in my arms.

"Fuck" I coughed seeing a small splatter of blood land on the floor infront of me as I reached out for my phone screaming out as it damaged my wounds more.

I opened the phone as fast as my bloodied finger tips let me going straight to contacts my heart froze I didn't have anyone to call and for the life of me I couldn't remember the emergency number 'why can't they all be 911'.

I scrolled through my contacts knowing if I couldn't get a hold of anyone soon it would be the end for me, my hand stopped as I came to his number he was the only one in this area that could help me.

We didn't end on good terms so would he help me anyways I sighed in pain and pressed call it rang for a few minutes before being sent into voice mail "fuck" I cried and hit call again "please please pick up" I pleaded.

It went to voice mail again "m-marc, please I-I don't have anyone else to call, they broke in and I'm wounded buddy is hurt please.... I need you" my voice wavered as I spoke the last words.

My thumb hesitantly pressed the hung up bottom and it was like the whole world fell into a maddening silence except for the sound of my short breathes.

I placed the phone down beside me and sat myself up against the flipped over couch keeping buddy close to my chest hugging him tightly because I was afraid he'll disappear.

The minutes that passed felt like ours it was funny how when your in pain time almost slowed down into a complete stop, with each passing minute breathing started becoming harder and my vision started to darken.

I looked towards the door praying for something to happen and that's when I heard it the thundering foots coming down the corridor and the familiar voice I once loved "yn" he sounded breathless as he banged on the door.

I watched as the door flung open to reveal a very freaked out marc who rushed towards me "s-save him" I choked trying to pass buddy to marc but I didn't have the strength "shh I got to help you" marc whispered and gently took him from my arms and layed him beside.

I tried pushing his hands away from me "save him, save him please" I sob and tried to get out of his arms as he picked me up to get back to buddy's side "he'll want me to take care of you yn" marc tried calming me down but I just pushed my head into his neck trying to convince him to go back but all my words were landing on deaf ears.

He gently layed me in the back of the car and rushed to the driver's seat and as soon as the door closed I could see him change "t-take me back jake" I whimpered my throat tightening as I started to cough "I'm sorry mi amor" was all he said before driving towards the hospital but all I remember was rounding the first corner before sleep took me.

Jakes pov

I paced back and forth in the waiting room as steven frantically tried to calm himself down while marc didn't speak at all "this is all our fault" I stared at Steven in the mirror that was to the side of me "we did this to her they did this to her because of us".

We just listened to him because we knew he was right "Mr Lockley" I snapped turning towards the lady calling out to me "any news" I asked and walked to her swiftly she shook her head "she is still in surgery but I think it's best you head home we have your number for any updates on your friend".

My heart stung as she called yn our friend, I looked towards the mirror again and saw marc watching me with puffy eyes "ok gracius" I murmured and slowly walked out the door to my car "why are we abandoning her" steven shouted but I just ignored him and got in.

The drive was almost silent, Steven's shouts had turned into mutters and whispers, I was on autopilot I've driven there so many times I could do it blind folded "what are we doing here jake" marc spoke up for the first time "the least we can do is clean up the mess we caused" i muttered I closed my eyes and let steven take control.

Steven pov

I climbed up the stairs and with step getting closer my heart felt more shattered, I paused outside the broken door taking a long breath before pushing it open, I looked over all her ruined belongings "what have we done" I whispered and with shakey legs went inside.

My eyes locked on buddy's unmoving body I slowly went to sit close to him but not touch him, a single tear ran down my face as I stared at his blood covered fur I covered my face as the tears got worse "we could have saved them" my breathes quickened as I cried.

"If we just came earlier" I sunk further into myself with each word I spoke flashes of all the good memories we had filled my mind "she didn't deserve this" I whispered into my hands, "steven" I ignored marc and didn't even bother to look up "Steven" this time it was jake.

"What" I whispered my breath catching as I looked up "buddy" I asked causing the small dog to bark I looked around the apartment to see if this was a joke but no one else was there "buddy" I cried out in joy and brought the dog into my arms he squirmed in my arms and licked my face barking in excitement.

"H-how" I frowned my brows in confusion I looked behind me once more to see khonsu there "she is what we protect" he spoke calmly "she is the light no one shell extinguish" "thank you khonsu" I murmured and gently put buddy down.

My sadness felt lifted "let's fix this place up shell we" I smiled petting buddy one last time before standing up I sighed out and looked around the room "let's get to work" I murmured, I just did the basics like picking up all the broken pieces of her gadgets and shards of glass and putting back all her furniture back and when I was done with that I just felt like to do extra.

I washed all of her dirty clothes that were all over her bathroom floor, changed her bed sheets, I did the dishes sorted out her fridge and pantry even decided to vacuum and mop all her floors in till the place was spotless "good days work" I smiled admiring all of my hard work but suddenly a yawn escaped my lips "a quick nap won't hurt" I murmured and slowly collapsed onto her comfy couch.

Marc's pov

I stared at the familiar ceiling for I don't know how long its been about 5 days since the break in, I was stuck in my head for most of it, my hands softly petted buddy as he layed on my stomach I thought of many different ways we could have prevented this from happening or how I could stop this from happening in the future "we should go see her" steven murmured but I just sighed and moved buddy carefully off of me "she doesn't want to see us steven" I said and rubbed my face.

I looked towards the door as I heard nearing footsteps to the door the person knocked lightly and spoke "ms yn, it's the adoption agency" I tilted my head I confusion as I got up and opened the door "oh your not ms yn" the woman murmured looking down at her clip board in confusion "I'm her... friend im house sitting for a while may I help you with something" I sighed crossing my arms she nodded eagerly and brought out a cage that was behind her.

"Um this is her cat she has the food and everything the last time I check" the lady rambled and pushed the cage into my hands I nodded lifted the cage up to look in, my eyes softened as I saw the kitten we talked about adopting a few months perier "does he have a name yet" i asked "yes let's see here" she dragged her finger down the page "uh khonsau chandu I can't say that" the lady huffed and showed me the paper I laughed "khonsu" I whispered.

The lady nodded "here please sign here and here" I gently placed the cage inside and signed the paper "ok have a good day" the lady walked off hurriedly I closed the door quietly and slowly opened the cage so I didn't frighten it "come on little guy" I smiled to see the little kitten shyly walk out it looked around its surroundings his gaze landing on buddy who just sat patiently staring at him with curiosity I smiled fondly at the two.

My phone started to vibrate in my pocket and I took it out and answered it "hello" I murmured "hi Mr lockley, this is the hospital phoning to let you know ms yn is being released now and is being taken home I'm sure it would be easier if your there as well" I confirmed with the caller that I was already here "that is all thank you" the caller said before hanging up I popped my phone back into my pocket and took a deep breath "everything is going to be ok".

Yn pov

I stared out the window, he didn't come visit once maybe he hates me more now and just saved me out of guilt "we're almost there" the driver smiled back at me through the review mirror I gave him a forced smile back, I didn't want to go back and deal with the whole mess and... buddy I bit my lip I have to stay strong, my body trembled as the car came to a stop I felt weak and just wanted to srivel up and disappear "here we go ms" the driver opened up the door for me and helped me out.

"Do you need me to walk you u-" "I got it from here thanks" my eyes snapped to Marc's as he stepped out from my building the driver looked at me for confirmation I nodded slowly "ok have a nice day ms" the driver said before getting back in his car and driving off, I just stared at Marc not knowing what to saw "hi" he said nervously, I let out a shakey breathe "I'm sorry for getting you involved" I murmured making him frown his eyes in confusion "you don't have to apologize for that yn it wasn't your fault" he reassured walking up to me.

He wrapped his arm around me carefully "now come on we have a surprise for you" he smiled and helped me into the building "I swear Marc if you stuffed my dog I will chop of your balls" I murmured half jokingly, for some reason it almost feels like we're back to normal he chuckled and shook his head and urged me first into my apartment I hesitated for a minute "it's ok" he whispered rubbing his hand comfortly up and down my back I let out a sigh and opened up the door my eyes instantly widening.

"H-how" it was like time has been rewinded "buddy" I squealed out and caught the dog as he leaped into my arms I stumbled a bit but marc caught me "and look over there" he murmured his hands still around me as he pointed I looked over to see the cat I adopted slowly walking towards us I placed buddy and watched in aw as the two played, i glanced at marc to see him already staring at me, I felt my heart full once again "thank you guys" I smiled and leaned up onto my tip toes and layed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

He blushed and dark red his hands tighten around me keeping me close to him "I'm sorry yn" he whispered making me shake my head "you were only trying to protect me" I murmured "but that almost got you killed" I could see the tears welling up in his eyes I gently raised my hands to his face and caressed his cheeks "you did even though you ignored me the first time" I squinted my eyes playfully at him making him chuckle "you protect everyone every single day so you can protect me" I murmured and pecked his lips.

"I will always protect you, I thought I was by leaving you but it just shows me how much I need you and I'll never miss up like this again I promise you"

Tag.List

@sweetirilly @greekgods15 @neteyamyawne

[nolovelingers]

PLEASE DONT LEAVE ME ⋆ ˚｡ ୨୧ steven grant

⋆ ★ a desperate, emotionally charged steven, who is not ready to let go of you after you decide to leave him, realizing he's been hiding many secrets — short blurb !!

cw ᝰ.ᐟ use of y/n ,, gender neutral reader ,, sfw ,, angst ,, break up ,, desperate steven

(y/n) stood in the small hallway, their heart pounding in their chest as they gazed at the neatly packed suitcases by the door. they had been living with steven for nearly a year now, and while the beginning had been a whirlwind of excitement, the novelty had long since worn off. beneath the surface, a gnawing sense of unease had taken root, growing stronger with each passing week.

it wasn't until recently that (y/n) had begun to realize the true extent of steven's secrets. at first, you had brushed off the odd comments and strange behavior as quirks, the result of a stressful job at the art gallery. but as the months went by, the cracks in his facade became impossible to ignore.

late night phone calls in a language you didn't understand, whispered arguments with an unseen presence, and the occasional lapses in memory that left him disoriented and confused, even acting like a completely different person at times. (y/n) had tried to be patient, to give him the time and space he needed to open up to them. but as the months went by and the secrets only seemed to multiply, they knew that they could no longer go on living in the dark.

just as you were about to make your way to the bedroom to confront him, steven appeared in the doorway, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and fear. he looked disheveled, probably haven just woken up, his hair a mess of tangled curls, and his shirt partially unbuttoned, exposing a glimpse of his toned chest.

"right, what’s this then?" he asked, his voice tight with anxiety as his gaze flicked from your face to the packed suitcases. "youre not leaving, are you?" there was still an edge of playfulness in his voice, like he was trying to diffuse the situation.

there was a beat. a second of stilled silence filling the air like static as you took a moment to compose yourself. only then did he realize this was no joking matter.

"i can't do this anymore, steven," your voice was soft, trembling with a cocktail of sadness and frustration. "not when you're still hiding so many secrets from me."

stevens brow furrowed, and he took a step closer to you, his hand reaching out to grasp your arm. his fingers were warm and gentle, a pleading resonating in his eyes. "wha’dya’mean, love? what secrets?" he asked, his voice rising in pitch as the realization of what was happening began to sink in.

you pulled away from his touch, unable to bear the weight of the lies that still lingered between them. "don’t play dumb," you said, voice hardening with a mix of anger and sadness. "you know exactly what i mean." you shook your head, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over.

steven's face paled, and he leaned against the wall for support, his body trembling slightly as he tried to process your words.

"(y/n), I... I don't know what you're talking about," he said, but there was a hollow quality to his voice, a sense of desperation that belied his words.

your heart clenched at the anguish in his eyes, the raw desperation that clung to his words like a second skin. you wanted to reach out, to pull him close and promise that everything would be alright, that you would never leave his side. but the weight of his secrets, the knowledge that he could never truly be open with you, held you back.

taking a step closer to him, your eyes searching his face, seeing the fear, the panic that gripped him like a vice.

"I've tried to be patient, I've tried to give you the time and space you needed to open up to me. But it's been nearly a year, and nothing has changed."

your voice rose with each word, the emotion you had been holding back for so long pouring out like a flood. you could feel the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, the ache in your chest growing more intense with each passing second.

"i love you, stevie. god knows I do. but I can't be with someone who won't let me in."

you paused, your breath catching in your throat as you tried to steady yourself. you knew that the next words you spoke would change everything.

"im breaking up with you. im sorry”

“no…”

desperation, raw and all-consuming, gripped steven like a merciless tide. It crashed over him in waves, threatening to drown him in its icy depths. his heart raced, pounding against his ribcage like a caged animal desperate to break free. the blood rushed to his ears, a deafening roar that drowned out the sound of your voice, your words lost in the cacophony of his own panicked thoughts.

fear, primordial and bone-deep, coiled around his spine like a serpent. it squeezed the air from his lungs, leaving him gasping, his chest heaving with the effort of drawing breath. the terror of losing you, of watching you walk out of his life and out of his reach, filled him with a horrifying clarity.

stevens mind reeled, a whirlwind of fragmented thoughts and half-remembered memories. the weight of his secrets pressed down on him, a physical burden that threatened to crush him beneath its immensity. the truth of his fractured psyche, the ancient curse that bound him to the will of a long-dead god, clawed at the edges of his consciousness, desperate to be unleashed.

a flicker of defiance sparked to life in the depths of his eyes. It was a stubborn, unyielding flame that refused to be extinguished, no matter how hard the tide of emotion threatened to snuff it out. he let out a dry, bitter laugh. shaking his head like he was trying to convince himself this was all fake. “no…” he repeated.

steven reached out to you, his hand outstretched and trembling, his fingers aching to feel the softness of your skin against his own. he tried to speak, to form the words that would keep you by his side, but his throat constricted, the muscles seizing up in a spasm of fear and desperation.

"love, please," he choked out, his voice a broken, jagged thing. "please, don't say a thing like that. lets not be rash.”

“steven…” you try to object, but he cuts you off, seemingly in denial.

steven stumbled forward, closing the distance between them in a desperate lunge. his hands gripped your shoulder, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your arms as he clung to you like a man drowning and you were his only hope of salvation.

"im begging you," he rasped, his voice ragged and hoarse with emotion. "please, don't go."

he paused, swallowing hard as he fought to regain some semblance of control. but the panic was winning, the terror of a life without you clawing at his insides like a wild beast.

"i know ive been a right bastard, keeping things from you. but it's not because i don't trust you. im terrified of losing you."

his breath hitched in his throat, a sob threatening to tear its way free. he blinked hard, trying to hold back the tears that burned behind his eyelids, but it was a losing battle. they spilled down his cheeks in hot, stinging rivulets, cutting trails through the stubble on his jaw.

his head dropped to your shoulder, his face burying itself in the warm, soft crook of your neck. his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you against him, as if he could somehow fuse your bodies together and keep you from leaving him. the desperate, broken plea spilled from his lips like a prayer.

"you can't bloody do this to me," he gasped out between shuddering breaths, his voice muffled against your skin. "pleasepleasepleaseplease. dont do this to me. im begging you, love, im bloody begging you."

his tears soaked into the fabric of your shirt, leaving damp patches that spread like spilled ink on parchment. the heat of his breath, ragged and desperate, seared the sensitive skin on your neck, raising goosebumps in its wake. his fingers tangled in the silky strands of your hair, fisting the locks gently and using them to anchor himself to you.

"you’re the only thing that keeps me sane. without you, im lost. nothing. i’ll bloody fall apart, (y/n). i swear i will." he choked out, the words vibrating against your collarbone.

stevens body shook with the force of his emotion, the vibrations racking his lean frame.

despite his fervent pleas and the desperate, almost violent way he clung to you, (y/n) remained unmoved. your expression softened with sympathy and regret, but the resolve in your eyes never wavered. you could feel the hammering of his heart against your chest, the tremors that wracked his lean, muscular frame. yet, you could not bring yourself to succumb to his pleas, not when you knew the truth of what lay beneath the surface.

gently but firmly you pried at his fingers, unwrapping his arms from around your waist. you eased his head back from your shoulder, cupping his face in your hands. his eyes were wild, the irises nearly swallowed by the black of his dilated pupils. tears clung to his long, dark lashes, and his cheeks were flushed a blotchy, agonized red. the sight of him reduced to this desperate, begging wreck, made your heart ache with a sorrow that threatened to consume you.

still, you held fast to your decision. you couldn't build a life with a man who kept you in the dark.

as you spoke, your voice was soft but unwavering, a gentle but unyielding reminder of the boundaries you had to maintain. "im sorry, steven."

you brushed a tear from his cheek with your thumb, a tender, almost loving gesture. but really it was a farewell caress and steven could tell by the lingering of your touch.

he shuddered as your thumb brushed away a tear, leaning into the tender touch like a flower turning towards the sun. his eyes fluttered closed for a moment, a pained expression flickering across his face as he registered the unspoken goodbye hidden beneath the gentle gesture. a stronger sense of desperation surged through him.

his hands flew up to grasp your wrists, his fingers curling around them, touch soft as ever, careful not to hurt or scare you. he pulled you closer, as if he could make you a part of his very being. all the while, he shook his head in violent negation, dark curls whipping around his face as he repeated the word like a mantra.

"no, no, no," he gasped out, his voice raw and ragged. "no, sweetheart, please. dont say it like that. please dont say it in that tone."

hysteria edged his words, a thread of madness that spoke of a man teetering on the brink of a abyss. his eyes, when they opened, were wild and haunted.

"I swear, if you walk out that door... if you leave me..." he paused, his breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps. his eyes bored into yours with a intensity that bordered on manic."...I'll be on your doorstep every damn day, begging you to take me back.”

a part of you wanted to give in, to take pity on his anguish and promise to stay, if only to spare him this agony.

but as you gazed into his eyes, seeing the secrets that lurked beneath the surface, you knew you could not. you had to be strong. to leave now.

drawing in a deep, shuddering breath, and straightening your shoulders, you shook your head slowly, as you spoke with a quiet but unwavering certainty.

"no, baby. no more." your voice was low, almost gentle, but with a steely undercurrent that brooked no argument. you took another step back, putting more distance between the two of you, as if physically severing the invisible bonds that had once tied you together.

"I love you." he tried, taking a step closer as you take a step back. you sigh, realizing hes unbudging, and continue to walk towards the door.

“i know.”

he stood frozen, watching helplessly as (y/n) took a final step back, then turned away from him. he opened his mouth to call out to you again, but the words died in his throat as the door clicked shut behind you. the sound an oppressive silence inside the flat, a grim reminder of the events unfolded.

steven stared at the closed door, his heart pounding a unsteady rhythm against his ribs. a part of him wanted to run after you, to throw open the door and beg and plead until you had no choice but to listen. but he remained rooted to the spot, held back by a grim realization. you had made your choice,

and it wasn't him.

` ੈ˚ ★ a / n : me after falling off the edge of the planet with writers block and not writing for an entire year then suddenly my reboot card got picked up and i have inspo again hiiii

started 1.14.2025. finished 1.14.2025.

©️ nolovelingers 2025

[imtryingbuck]

Too Late.

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Summary: Y/n’s Steves girlfriend and she’s been taken by Hydra, will he get to her in time? Will she want to go with him if he does?

Word count: 2,237

Warnings: angst. cheating. nat and steve are terrible people. pregnancy. miscarriage. tiny mention of being sick. swearing. ending is terrible sorry.

A/N: women aren’t failures or less of a woman if they have miscarriages, unfortunately and sadly it’s a natural thing.

Part 2

Masterlist

Why he kept doing it was beyond him.

The first time it happened both swore that it was a mistake, second time was a mistake too. The third time was to blow off steam from a rough mission. The fourth time, a mistake.

Now they’ve lost count of how many mistakes there’s been.

They know there’s been too many “this is the last time” before they end up in the same position.

Even though he knew what he was doing was wrong he just couldn’t stop.

When he woke that morning he knew he had fucked up. In the whole time that they’d been fucking he never fell asleep, he always headed home afterwards. He never once woke up with her in his arms. This was intimate, something that they didn’t do. It was just sex. They barely kissed, it was rough, he barely touched her other than her hips or his hand on her head as he pushed her face further into the pillow, further away from his mind - from his guilt.

Finding his phone he jumped up out of the bed his heart in his throat at the 22 missed calls and the one text message. He made her have a number that she would send to him for emergencies. For when she wasn’t or felt safe.

He received the number 4 in-between the many missed calls.

“Shit, baby pick up.” He chanted as he picked his clothes up off the floor and shoving them on in a hurry.

“St-Steve?” A woman’s voice came from the bed.

“Get up. Somethings wrong with Y/n”

“Shit”

Natasha took the sheet to cover herself as she rose from the bed, her too putting her clothes back on in a hurry.

Steve ran out of the room finding the team in the kitchen, Natasha soon following. “H-has Y/n called any of you? Somethings wrong”

Receiving a chorus of no’s his heart plummeted in to the depth of his stomach. Not giving any thought to it he took off running to the garage.

Speeding through the busy streets Steve kept trying to ring Y/n, heart rate going through the roof every time he heard her voicemail. Not even parking the car he jumped out and ran up to their apartment, Bucky and Sam quick on his heels.

“No no no no no” the door was open halfway.

“Y/n? Baby, I’m home…” he tried, Bucky and Sam swore they never heard Steve’s voice sound so small.

Taking small steps into the apartment he has shared with his girlfriend for the past three years he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

The grey couch was tipped on its side, cushions once nearly placed on said couch now lay on the floor. Pieces of glass from the photo frames they had hung up, littered the ground. Trinkets and ornaments belonging to Y/n, that took her ages to get a nice collection going was broken on the floor amongst the mess.

But that’s not what caused him to loose his breath, no, it was the small puddle of blood in the middle of their living room, droplets leading to where he stood and behind him.

Bucky made his way around the wall that was Steve and did a sweep of the apartment in signs of his best friends girlfriend. Sam took off in the direction of where Bucky was calling his name. Five minutes later they both emerged from the bedroom, Bucky holding two things in his hands.

“S-Steve…”

“What are they?”

“A phone…and um, a…a pregnancy test.” Bucky stuttered out, his heart pounding violently.

“W-what does the test say?” Nat questioned quietly from behind Steve as she stood with the rest of the Avengers.

“It-its positive”

No one moved as Steve hunched over and puked up.

Just as he was about to stand the phone started ringing. Bucky answered and put it on loud speaker.

“You’ve been a naughty boy Steven so we took your girlfriend. You have less then… ten hours to find her, hopefully she won’t be too mad at you. Hail Hydra” the voice on the other end of the phone chuckled darkly before hanging up.

“What the fuck is going on?” Tony demanded.

“I-I don’t know, we need to find her. I can’t lose her”

“We’ll find her don’t worry” Nat says as she put a comforting hand on his arm, Steve looked at her hand in disgust and yanked his arm away as if she had burned him.

“Don’t. Ever. Touch. Me. Again.” Steve growled in her ear quietly, even Bucky didn’t hear.

Her head throbbed, her whole body ached and was sore when she finally came to.

“Ah you’re awake, finally. I’m Conrad and I’ll be here to help you through this very tough time”

“W-where am I?”

“With Hydra darling. Believe it or not but you’re safe, I promise”

“Really? You pricks attacked me and you want me to believe you when you say I’m safe?” She chuckled with a head shake.

“I know, that wasn’t suppose to happen but we didn’t realise that one of Captain Americas girlfriends was so feisty, well we knew one was but not you” he says.

“W-what are you talking about?”

“Oh didn’t you know? Weird. Steve has another girlfriend. You know her, Natasha also known as the black widow.”

Her heart cracked but she didn’t believe him, he was a member of Hydra for Christ sake. “Your lying”

“Hold on. Matthews turn the screen on and let’s show our guest where her hero is.”

The bright light from the tv screen she hadn’t even noticed was there, nearly blinded her. Conrad told Matthews to press play, her soul felt like it had died.

There was her boyfriend on six years thrusting in and out of her best friend.

“T-t-turn it o-off”

“No. Look in the right corner where his jeans are, open your eyes and do it Y/n.”

Complying with his order her eyes slowly peeled open and look where he had told her. There on the floor was the jeans she had brought him when he needed some new ones, every few minutes there was a flash.

“Want to know what that is? It’s you, you was ringing him when we came knocking. You was running and hiding ringing for him whilst he was fucking another woman. Matthews fast forward to the best part”

The footage fast forwarded and she saw Steve sleeping and Natasha climbing out of the bed, going to his jeans and picked up his phone she saw all the missed calls but instead of doing anything she put the phone down on the bedside table and climbed back into the bed.

“She’s not very nice is she? She knew you needed him but she didn’t care, that’s not a good friend is it?” Conrad mocked with a chuckle. “D-do you want a drink of water?”

The change in his tone confused her, one minute he was mocking her then in the next he sounded worried.

“H-here, take slow sips. It’s just water, look I’ll take a sip.” He says “see, it’s okay I promise.”

“W-why are you doing this?”

“I’m helping you. I’m not really the bad guy in this Y/n-“

“Why?”

Just as Conrad was about to respond Matthews ran into the room “they’ve arrived”.

“Ah show time”.

“Where is she?” Steve demanded clutching his shield tighter.

“She’s here, didn’t think you’d find us so soon Cap.” Conrad says from where he was stood, a grin on his lips.

“Where is she?” He repeated.

“Bring her in, nicely I don’t want any more harm coming to her”

The team watch as the door comes open from the left side of the room and Y/n came through it with two Hydra agents by her side.

“Doll-“

“How long.” It wasn’t a question but more of a demand.

“What are you talking about?” Steve questions.

Instead of answering him she turned to the others “did you guys know?”

“Know what?” Tony asks.

“Did you know that Steven was fucking Natasha?”

Both Steve and Nat flinch as she calls them by their full names. Natasha slowly backed up as the team looked at the pair.

“D-Doll whatever they’ve told you is a lie”

“I saw it with my own two eyes. How long”

“Doll-“

“A year.” 

Steve and Natasha spoke at the same time.

“A…year?”

“It was an accident Y/n/n-“

“Don’t call me that Widow. A year isn’t an accident, did the rest of you know?”

All shook their heads at her question.

“Y/n please, it was a mistake I swear! She means nothing to me.”

Before she could respond Natasha spoke up “I meant nothing to you?”

“No. Please Y/n let’s go home, your pregnant baby”

“Not anymore I’m not. I was two months ago but I lost it, I remember ringing you all night begging you to come home but you never answered a single phone call. Probably with her.” She quickly wiped the fallen tear from her eye as she remembers that night.

The night where her happiness had left her all alone on the bathroom floor, panic raising by the second. Ringing her happiness’s father just for him not to answer, blood flowing down her legs and hands that shook something fierce. She begged and begged for them to come back, promising that she’d do better and be the best mum she could possibly be.

Sadly her happiness had gone away.

Numbly she cleaned up the evidence of her failure, placed the baby onesie she had brought as a present to tell Steve that he was going to be a dad - back in the box it came in, she put the positive pregnancy test in the box along with the sonogram and then neatly placed them in another box, pushing it right to the back of her side of the wardrobe.

Over the next two months whenever she was alone she would take the box out and talk to the sonogram, telling the tiny bean that she loved them. She knew she should of told Steve but she had no idea how to bring the conversation up, she couldn’t bare to see his face light up when she said she was pregnant just to see it fade away when she told him that she had failed as a woman and that it was no longer with them.

To her she was protecting him by keeping it away from him.

“But it doesn’t matter now does it? You guys can fuck off now.”

“No no Y/n please we can figure this out-“

“No. There’s no figuring anything out. You betrayed me, you! I didn’t do anything wrong! You don’t love me no more? Break up with me! You wanted to get your dick wet by some bitch that wasn’t me? Break up with me!” Her voice got louder as she went on stepping further towards him, standing in front of him she felt sick at the devastating look in his eyes.

“I asked Conrad to kill me” she smile sadly at him “you guys need to go now-“

“Y/n baby please I’m sorry, I can be bet-“

“Don’t humiliate me even more please, I’ve wanted this for a while now so please just leave”

Steve opens his mouth but shuts it quickly when the agents of Hydra points their guns at him and his team.

Y/n walks back over to Conrad who leads her through the door they came through. The last thing the Avengers hear is the deafening bang they were all familiar with.

In the two years that had passed since he lost Y/n, Steve stayed far away from Natasha. 

The team had only recently begun talking to the pair again, they had lost a friend and to them it was Natasha’s and Steve’s fault.

Steve missed Y/n more than anything, sleep didn’t come easy to him not now not when the memories of his betrayal was always there as a constant reminder. Not when all he remembers is the pure devastation look in her eyes or how her hand glazed over her stomach when she spoke about their baby that they lost - a baby that he did not know anything about.

He had no one to blame other than himself for every time he hears a gunshot he’s transported back to that day he lost everything. Lost his world.

On the other side of the world in a woodland area away from the civilised society sat a lonely small farmhouse, surrounded by a large fence to keep the farm animals inside.

Y/n emerged from the wooden door with a small smile on her face, dressed in her dark blue dungarees that wore a deep green stain on the knees.

She didn’t lie when she said she had asked Conrad to kill her and he had agreed, when they went into the hallway she had fully prepared herself for the bullet to come, to end her life instead the bullet zoomed past her head and lodged itself in the wall.

“I’m not going to kill you Y/n, I-I want to help you leave but you need to stay quiet okay”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I’m not much of a bastard, come on we don’t have long”

Now in the two years since she had left she finally felt at peace, she found herself.

~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~