Jake Lockley x Reader, Marc Spector x Reader, Steven Grant x Reader

Words: 2600

Warnings: Cursing, mention of sex, break up, Jake can be a dick

Summary: Marc had a suspicion he had another person in him, Steven wasn’t the only one, that was evident after what happened with Harrow. But neither Marc nor Steven could be prepared when they met Jake.

When Marc realized that Khonshu tricked them, he was fuming, and so was Steven.

“You said you would let us go!” yelled Marc.

“I said I’ll let you and the worm free, never mentioned your third party.” Marc and Steven both felt as if their stomach fell, the feeling of being played was devastating.

They found themselves on yet another mission. A mission they thought was long over, yet here they were, standing in a weird temple and the worst is that Layla was with them.

“Khonsu, you liar!” she yelled. “You said you would set them free!”

“Again, I never mentioned the third one, if he chose to work for me, that has nothing to do with you.”

All three knew Khonsu had a point. Yet, still, they were super mad.

“You played us!” said Steve as he came forward.

“Can we get over this, please? We are here to catch someone very dangerous before you three decided to arrive, the plan was going swimmingly,“ said Khonshu.

Layla followed what he thought was Marc, that is how she got there and how thankful she was that she went.

Then they met the guy they were there for.

His name was Jacob Highs, according to Khonshu he likes to torture people and plays cruel games with them.

"Marc Spector, I know about you. Now, it’s time for you to face your demons!” the man let out a wicked laugh.

“Kill him Marc!” yelled Khonshu. “Kill him before h-”

—

“Marc?” he heard Layla’s voice.

“What happened?” he asked as he opened his eyes, he found himself in an old dingy house. From the window, he could see the outside was pitch black. No landscape, nothing, only darkness.

“I-I don’t know but…” Layla couldn’t finish her sentence as Marc was hugged suddenly.

“Oh, Marc! I thought you died!” said Steven.

“Steven? How is this possible?”

“Told you Highs is dangerous.” said Khonshu, "He likes to play with people. This is one of the realms he created.“

Marc finally stood up and he noticed another man, another him.

"So, you are Jake.” all three looked at Jake who rolled his eyes, not answering. The three started to talk trying to figure out what to do.

“How do we get out of here?” asked Layla who looked at all three men and Khonshu.

“We wait.” said Jake, finally speaking up, everyone looked at him.

“Wait? Are you out of your mind?”

“Technically, yes. I am.”

“How could we just stand and wait?” asked Steven as he looked at everyone.

“We will die here if we don’t find a way out.” said Layla.

“Yeah, let’s just start walking, get out of this filthy house and see what we are against.” said Steven as Marc was thinking.

“No, we need to wait.” said Jake again with a firmer tone.

“Why would we just sit here and wait?” asked Marc, annoyed with the man in the hat.

“Because, unlike you two, I have a girlfriend who is actually useful.” said Jake and just as he said that Jacob’s unconscious body flew in the window, shattering the glass as he landed. Jake made an ‘I-told-you-so’ face at the others before the door opened and a woman came in, you.

“Oh,” you looked at all the people in there. “Hello.” you offered a small wave. You looked at Khonshu. “So, he doesn’t speak and I didn’t want to kill him in case that would get us stuck here forever.” you said and then turned to the others. “Well, this is… awkward.”

“Hi, Mi Amor.” you smiled at Jake and placed a kiss on his lips, he pulled you close by your waist.

“There they go again.” said Khonshu as Jake whispered Spanish words into your ear before disappearing to find a way out.

The other three just watched in disbelief. Not it all made a lot more sense to Layla, whenever Marc forgot a date or he was late, or he had marks on him that wasn’t from fighting, Layla had a suspicion he had another woman, but she never knew Jake was there and that he had someone.

When you finally pulled away from Jake, he kept you close, kissing your neck, determined to leave a mark on your delicious skin.

“Sorry, this is a bit, come on now.” you tried to push him away, but it didn’t work. 

“Who are you?” asked Steven.

“You must be Steven, lovely to meet you and you Marc, and oh what was it? Lauren?”

“Layla,” said Marc with a very annoyed tone but you didn’t mind.

“Right, lovely to meet you all, Jake did mention you three, but as you can see he’s not big on talking.” just as you said that Jake pulled you closer, and it made you giggle but he also bit your neck a little. 

“My name is Y/N, I’m Jake’s girlfriend and partner in crime. I’m a descendant of a Goddess, not too sure which one, I have certain powers. Like I can see the angry pigeon standing behind you.” everyone turned to see Khonshu there.

Jake finally finished with your neck as he let you go, but still kept you close.

“I wasn’t able to find a way out.” he said before he turned to Jacob, he was out cold and he will be for a long time. “We will stay here and when he wakes up we will convince him to let us out.”

“Lovely, this is like camp when you are a kid. I would love to get to know you all better. Let’s start with you Steven.” you sat down on the floor, creating fire in the fireplace to keep you all warm.

And you talked.

—

You talked a lot. Marc was sure he has gone mad. Not that he wasn’t already insane but this.

To finally meet the man who killed many, whom he didn’t know about, who he cannot even remember, and he had a girlfriend?

Marc was loyal to Layla, always. 

But this, this was too much, and by Layla’s expression, he thought the same.

“So, how does this work?” asked Marc with a very annoyed voice. “We find out that Khonshu lied to us, we are still Moon Knight, and now this. Another me and you?”

“I know you feel cheated, Khonshu did hide this from you b-”

“And just who the fuck are you?!” Marc was now angry.

“Amigo! Watch your fucking mouth when you talk to my girl! If it wasn’t for her that fucker would be out there torturing us.”

“This IS torture!" 

Steven wanted to defuse the situation, he really did but he agreed with Marc.

"So, how does this work?” he asked the same question Marc just did.

“He comes to me, we go on dates, usually that includes killing people Birdie tells us to kill, then we go back to my place or to his, sorry, yours and have sex. Easy life. I leave before he wakes up or he leaves before you switch.”

The way you were so causal about this was disturbing. They all made a face.

“Look, I know you all are new to this, but I am a good fucking person okay? I help people, I save people and I knew what I was getting into when I met Jake. He told me about you three, he told me how this works, you all can be angry at me all you want, but you cannot deny a man from his love.”

Layla was too quiet during all this, even you noticed. It must be hard for her to hear all this, but this wasn’t just about her.

You loved Jake and Jake loved you, they all have to live with that as you live with the fact that Marc and Steven love Layla.

“Nah, I say we vote. It’s two against one. You two have to stop… this.” said Steven.

“Vote? Are you mad? Do you want me to crush your skull?” spoke Jake but you put your hand on his shoulder.

“Try me.” you said. “Try it, try and separate us, Steven, even you Marc, I challenge you to try.” They didn’t know what you were capable of. And for Jake, you’d do everything.

Suddenly everything felt cold, the windows started to freeze and the fire went out, the wooden floor began to get slippery with the ice on the surface. 

You weren’t joking, Marc thought you were, but you were not.

Powers? Definitely. You were scary, Marc didn’t want to mess around with you, not for one bit.

That fire in your eyes as you stood up for the one you loved, he had never seen that before, not even in his own eyes.

It made him question so many things.

And by the look on Layla’s face, as she excused herself to another room, he knew.

You watched as the two left, leaving Steven behind.

“So, Steven, I heard you work in a gift shop in a museum?”

“Used to work.” he corrected.

“Right, so, anything you learned there? Jake never really liked it, although he did like one of the tour guides.” you said sending a side-eye towards him.

“It was you? You asked her on a date to the stake house!” now it made sense even to Steven, he did find it difficult to believe Marc, who was married would ask someone on a date.

“Yes, but I found someone better.”  you smiled as Jake finally sat down beside you. “Tengo Frio, Amor.” he said and you put the fire back on. Steven sat down close to it, thankful that the ice was finally gone.

“Look, Steven, I understand this is a lot to take in, it was a lot for me as well. But I’m not going to let Jake just leave.  Maybe it is unfair to Layla, but if you take him from me, that is unfair to me. You have to understand, please. I love him. And I’m sure I can love you too. I mean no harm.”

You spoke so gently like you were trying to make a child understand something huge, and you kind of were.

You understood their side, you really did. But you were not willing to let go of Jake. Never.

When Layla and Marc arrived back, they looked… not happy. To say the least.

“Okay, now that we talked about this, ready to leave?” you stood up as did Steven and Jake.

“W-But I thought you said you can’t-”

“I never said I can’t get us out of here, all I said is that I’m not willing to kill him to risk getting us stuck.” you said smiling at Steven.

“Smart girl.” said Khonshu as he waited. You closed your eyes but then remembered one more thing.

“Oh and Mr Lockley, you better thank me for this! You know what I like!”

“Ice cream.”

“That, and you on your knees baby.” you winked and before anyone could answer, you quickly worked your magic.

—

Marc woke up in his bed, alarmed at what just happened, he wasn’t sure if it was a dream or not.

“Steven? Was it all a dream?”

“If it was, we dreamt the same thing. We have to go to work.”

Marc got dressed and let Steven take over so they could go to work. Both of them were thinking hard. Was it really all just a dream?

Steven worked as usual, having a smile on his face as he served everyone. And just like Marc, he couldn’t think of anything else.

He knew he will need to talk to Layla and you as well. But how would this work out? Would this work out at all?

—

Well, Layla wasn’t happy. At all. 

Is seemed like she understood the fact that Egyptian Gods were real better than that a person can have D.I.D. It broke Marc’s and Steven’s heart.

She left them.

Marc blamed you, of course he did, but Steven, he felt something else, curiosity. 

He wanted to find you, and he was willing to ask Jake for help. But he knew better than to mess around with Jake especially since Marc knew about Steven’s steps.

Another week ended, you let out a sigh as you stood in front of the museum. Jake asked you to come since he wanted to go to a restaurant. You eyed the woman he asked previously on a date.

“Damn, she’s gorgeous.” you said as she smiled at her colleague and left.

You turned around to look at the stairs, seeing one person coming your way. 

“Would you look at that, I was waiting for,” you checked your watch. “Five minutes…hmm… it felt longer.” You moved your arms around his neck as you kissed him.

But something was off, instead of his arms moving around you, he just froze.

“Shit. Steven?” you asked as you quickly pulled back.

“Y-Yeah.”

“Oh, sorry, Jake said he wanted to meet, I thought you were him. I’m sorry.”

You wanted to leave, disappear. 

“I-I actually wanted to speak with you. If you are up for it.”

“Sure, let’s go eat something I’m starving.”

You two arrived at a steak restaurant, you ordered a nice plate of steak while Steven only asked for a salad. 

“You are charming.” you said and it made Steven stutter.

“Thank you.”

“Charming, smart, handsome and British. Nice combination, makes all the panties drop.” you probably shouldn’t have said that especially while he was drinking, but you did.

“Layla left us.” he said with such a sad tone it made you feel bad.

“I’m sorry Steven.”

“It was her decision, she said she couldn’t bear the thought of Marc with someone else.”

“So, is he blaming me? Are you?”

“No, it was her decision, we could have made it work.” you could have, really, but if she wasn’t up for it.

“Alright then, Mr Accent. Let’s not talk about your ex on our first date. Tell me about you. You obviously know a lot. You might be able to help me.”

“Help you?”

“Yes, you see, I am really interested in my past, I’m still not sure where I got my powers from and I want to find out.”

He looked interested like a new quest just opened its doors for him.

“How much do you know?”

“Besides the name of the orphanage I grew up in, nothing.”

Then his eyes changed.

“Hi Marc.”

“I’m not angry at you, you didn’t make Layla leave, but what are you doing with Steven?”

“Asking for help, that’s all.” you really had no other intentions but you understood that Marc was protective over Steven.

“I’m sure you will grow to like me. I like Steven he is kind.” Marc was still not sure about you. Then you looked up at the building behind him, he did as well as he saw Khonshu.

When he turned back, you noticed the change immediately.

“There you are” you smiled as he finally appeared.

“Who was it?”

“Both actually, she left them.”

“Good.” Jake called over the waiter ordering a steak.

“Don’t be mean, she was nice.”

“She didn’t fit me. You do.” Jake was always harsh you were used to it by now, it also rubbed off on you a little so now you were the same from time to time. “Now, Marc has to get used to the thought as well. And you will be able to move in as I asked you before.”

“Whatever you say, Babe.” you smiled as you drank from your wine.

You could only hope that day would come. 

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~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Santiago Garcia x Reader

Summary: When the boys found you, you were bound to the wall, ankles and wrists blessing from the cuffs that kept you in that tiny jail, they had a feeling you haven’t even seen the light in a long time. You were scared and you didn’t even speak English.

It was Frankie who found you, he thought he heard a noise in the basement and surely enough, there you were. You were so scared you even threw a bowl and a small vase you found at him.

“We can’t bring her with us. She will slow us down.” said Ben as they all decided to do a small gathering and plan on what to do with you. Ben gave you a bottle of water and a poorly wrapped sandwich. You silently ate everything.

“So, what? You suggest we leave her?” asked Santiago.

“Probably not a good idea, she’ll be dead if someone finds her still here after what we just did.” Will made a good point. Everyone groaned.

“We can bring her to the plane, then we-”

“What we bring her home, Fish?! Are you insane? Stealing money is one thing but bringing an illeagal immigrant into the States is just-”

“I know someone, she will get a name, an identity.” replied Ben. “We can save her.”

“We are not her saviors. We can’t even talk to her, she doesn’t understand English! Can you speak to her? Spanish?” everyone shook their heads. “French” Again, everyone shook their heads. “German?” No. “Then what the fuck should we do?”

“Bring her with us, Benny’s friend will give her IDs and she will live. We killed enough people already.” said Santiago and everyone agreed, even if Tom wasn’t a fan of the idea, he decided to agree.

“We are going to save you.” Santiago said as he knelt down in front of you, offering you a smile.

You didn’t understand a word they were speaking, but you did understand their intentions.

They weren’t there to hurt you, they were there to help. Especially that really handsome one with the beautiful eyes and curly hair, you especially liked him, so you stuck with him. You followed him, watching his movement as he walked, you followed, just as silently.

You watched as they all panicked when you heard shots. You ducked behind a rock, but you couldn’t ignore that you saw an enemy with a gun behind one of the guys, you slowly walked there when no one was watching.

And just as Tom turned, he saw the gun, but the guy was pushed before he could fire and fell, Tom shot the guy before he looked up to see you crouching, he knew you pushed the guy.

“You saved my life,” he said as the others arrived.

—

You were confused. They all talked to you, saying things but you didn’t understand a thing. They all sat around a fire, talking to each other, laughing and you laughed with them, even if you had no idea what they were talking about.

You suddenly spoke up, saying your first name. And they all looked at you confused. They you said your name again and pointed at yourself.

“Ben.” one of them said.

“Will.”

“Tom.”

Okay, easy names, you thought.

"Francisco.” Oh Boy. “But call me Frankie.”

“Santiago.” another longer name.

You nodded and smiled to all of them.

You learned to say all their names. And when you finally got back, well, they got back, you were at a completely strange place.

You did what you knew would work, you stuck with Santiago. And you also knew what the gold ring on some of their fingers meant.

You were a foreigner not stupid.

Your journey with the men was… interesting to say the least.

They all made sure you were safe but Santiago in particular. And who were you to push away such a handsome hero?

—

“You can live with me while we figure this out, I’m the only one without a wife, girlfriend or kids so I don’t have any explaining to do, but you have to keep a low profile.” Santiago said and he repeated himself in Spanish, but you still didn’t understand a word. Yet, you still nodded, you understood his intentions, you understood that this was his home, typical bachelor’s home.

You were given a room and food. But you didn’t like that. Your room was too quiet, it felt cold like your cell. Even if the bed was the most comfortable you could ever ask for and the room was warm.

You still didn’t feel safe. You were lonely.

You often moved to Santiago’s room, trying to be quiet not to wake him up, you would silently laying down next to him, you felt better there, safer.

The first time he noticed you in his bed was when he woke up with you in his arms, in his sleep he unintentionally moved over to you and cuddled you.

He was concerned but he didn’t mind, he just didn’t want to overstep your boundaries. You were happy to cook for him, happy to watch movies with him, whatever he wanted really.

Days, weeks and months passed. You now had a basic English vocabulary.

“Dinner?” you asked Santiago as he was sitting on the couch.

“I’ll order something, come back the series in starting.”

This was your normal now, but you felt bad, ever since he and his team helped you, you didn’t do anything productive, and cooking doesn’t count. Not in your book at least.

You wanted to work, but with the language barrier, it was extremely difficult.

Later that evening, you were getting ready for bed when his phone started to ring.

It was Tom calling.

“What’s up?” asked Santiago as he answered.

“Pope, hi, how’s things with your new-found wifey?”

Santiago laughed a little.

“Not so bad, she can now talk a lot better, why did you call?”

“I know who she is Pope. She was taken from her village, I have a report. Her village was attacked, they killed everyone, even she is presumed dead. There was fire, gunshots, almost everything you can imagine.”

“That’s awful.”

“Yeah, and I also have some news, since she’s dead, well presumed dead, it will be difficult to get her past immigration, you are lucky I know a lot of people but she will need a new last name. I am filling in her papers and I-“

“I will marry her.”

“Sorry? You don’t need to play the hero Pope. It’s all good I put her down as a random, generic last name, but-“

“It’s not about playing the hero. I want to marry her. She’s perfect.”

Tom smiled on the other end of the line.

“Come over tomorrow, collect her papers, oh, and you better start teaching her fast, No government official will believe that she is American if she doesn’t even speak basic English.”

“Thank you, Tom.”

“I should thank her, she saved my life, this is the least I can do.”

You understood that this was needed. Giving you a new identity was difficult, but not impossible. With the correct connections, you were officially an American citizen.

“Now, you can leave the house.” Said Santiago as he gave you your brand new ID. “Leave the house, look for a house, job or whatever you want. But you can stay with me as well. I like you company you know that.”

“Stay with Santi.” You said “No leave. Stay and help.” It made him smile.

“Marry me.” He said, right there, in front of Tom’s house as you two were walking to the car. You tilted your head.

“Marry?” you thought that was a name.

“Yes, I’m asking you to be my wife.”

Now that word you understood.

“Me? Santi wife?”

“Yes. I love you.” You understood that word as well. And all those days you just thought it was one sided. That he only let you sleep next to him because he was kind.

“I love you too.” You said with a rather shaky voice. But it was the truth. Santiago smiled as he grabbed your jaw and pilled you close to kiss you.

You were so happy, you felt like your chest would burst. You not only were rescued from your prison, you got to know this lovely group of men, and you even found love.

This was the fresh new start you begged for every night in that cold, dirty disgusting cell.

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~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Marc Spector x Reader

Summary: You and Marc got married a long time ago, even before all this mess happened and he got the suit.

A/N: Potential SPOILER warning for those who don’t know about Marc in the comics.

Marc wanted to keep you safe. 

The less you knew, the better it was. At least that is what he believed. But you knew it all. 

You weren’t blind or stupid you noticed your husband changing, sure he was always a little weird, but you could read him like a book.

You could, yet it still hurt whenever he left you behind, telling you not to look for him, call him or so anything to even be close to him.

And you listened, you sure did.

Only sent him texts, to which he responded a couple of days later. Then a call came. Suddenly out of nowhere.

“Hi, Honey.” you said picking up.

“O-Oh Sorry.” the guy on the other end said with a heavy accent. It made you tilt your head and he quickly hung up.

You tried to call him back but he didn’t pick up, so you just let it go.

Then Marc came home, saying he will spend the weekend with you. And you were happy.

Happy enough to bring that strange call up.

“Soooo, are you going to tell me who the sexy English man was?”

He looked at you questioningly as he stopped the movie you were watching.

“You called me last week, I picked up but a British guy answered and after babbling he hung up.”

“Oh.” was all he said, and you just waited.

And then, slowly he stood up, sitting down at a chair by the table and started to talk.

He walked about his childhood, his life and his mental issues. He told you about his identity disorder too.

And it all made sense.

Your heart broke for him. Marc was such a great person, kind, affectionate and trustworthy. And yet, here he was breaking down like a child.

You on the other hand was the kind of person who would rather laugh than cry. And your aching heart needed a distraction.

So, after Marc finished explaining what happened to him, you sat there for a moment, thinking about what to say. And the best you could come up with was.

“So, you are like a two for one special?” you asked and Marc just stared at you. “You know like those special offers in stores. I got you as a husband but I also got Steven and Jake, or how does that work?”

This was probably the first time in your life that you have seen Marc confused and not sure what to say.

“Don’t get me wrong your trauma is awful, I’m here if you want to talk about it more. I’m just not sure how to help. Maybe Jake or Steven wants to talk?” he just blinked, and it made you sigh. “Did I say something weird again?” you had a tendency to say weird things when you wanted to defuse the tension. But you two just stared at each other.

This went on for about five minutes.

Then he finally moved his arms from his legs.

And he laughed.

“I can’t believe you said “like those special offers in stores”. Who do you think I am?”

“You’re my husband, and I just want to know, how- IF this will change things. D.I.D. is serious, Marc, and I just want to be sure you are at least okay.”

“You know I’m okay, Sweetheart. And this will not change a thing. I always will be okay as long as I have you. This-“ he said gesturing to his head. “Is something you have to learn to live with. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I’m sorry, I was scared of your reaction.”

“You shouldn’t be, Marc. I love you, all of you. Even if they might not love me.”

Marc made a motion with his head like someone just told him something before he smiled.

“They do, at least Steven does. And you met Jake before.”

“I sure did. He is a flirty one.” you did, but you only realized now that it was him and not Marc. You laughed and stood up to hug him. He hugged your middle while you ran your fingers through his hair, slightly scratching his scalp. “Thank you for telling me all of this.”

“I love you. We love you.”

“And I love all of you too.”

You would be lying if you said you weren’t worried, of course, you were, but you also knew that you loved him and as long as you had him and he had you, everything will be okay.

And just okay, for now, is perfect.

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~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Reunited

En Sabah Nur x Reader

Words: 560

Summary: It was only supposed to be a day, one day to get him into his new body. But that one day turned into weeks, months, years, decades, centuries. However, you never forgot him, you never forgot your true love, En Sabah Nur.

People used to worship him, pray to him. And yet, they betrayed him. 

You watched the pyramid collapse. And you understood why he didn’t want you to be there, this is what he feared, but now, you had to live without him.

You had to hide in order to survive so you could so him once again. 

And so, you hid your powers, you hid your true identity and let the world forget about you. 

You had powers, just like your love, but you were nowhere near as powerful, you could merely talk to animals and calm people. 

When word got out that En Sabah Nur was dead, “The fake Gods are gone.” is what they used to yell, you feared they’ll find you. 

And people’s intention was to kill you as well. So, you ran, far far away.

They used to call you by many names. But over the time, people forgot about you. 

However, you didn’t care about that. You just wanted to see your love, that’s all you ever longed for. Over the centuries you realized your anger was not there anymore, you were not angry, you were mourning. 

After so long, so many decades without your love, so many nights where you dreamt of him, and after so many changes in the world.

He was back.

You felt his energy, distinct. You immediately ran to him. Not even caring to lock the pathetic apartment you called home now. Who were you kidding?! You used to live in a palace!

You found him easily, or rather he found you.

“My Goddess.” he said and you missed him way too much, running into his arms so he could hold you once again.

“You are really here.” you wanted to cry. “After so long.“ you let yourself get lost in him. "You said it will only take a day to get a new body. A day turned into eternity without you, My Love.” he hold you tight just as you imagined and dreamt of.

“I am sorry.” he sounded sincere, although he was not one to apologize. “I was afraid after I realized so much time passed, I thought you might have found another.” You looked at him, holding his head in your hands. 

“How could I ever? You are everything to me En Sabah Nur.”

“I dreamt of you.” he smiled recalling his amazing dream where he entered his chambers after a long day and saw you, sitting there, surrounded by your cats, smiling at him, he loved you maybe too much. “I saw you in my dreams, being so perfect, always smiling.” he looked into your eyes for the entire time. He finally leaned in to give you the kiss you have longed for since the day he left.

You finally had him back.

“And now, My Goddess, we will take over the world, for what they did to us, they all deserve to die. We will build a new world.”

A new world with him. Sounds like a dream. 

A dream you have longed for so long.

Taglist:imreadinggoaway@fleursirvart​ @v-2buckyehsebastiancrunch-time-sports @pxstelrainbow​ablogbypeteparkerliamssmilersmexylemony@greenarrowhead​feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace@sincerelyfan@theoneanna@aestheticsandmarvel@rororo06@castellandiangelo@avengers-r-us@destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpstercelebsimagine @capsiclesdollsnoopy3000@firstangeldragonranch@puknowcrazzyter @alwayshave-faith@soleil-dor@alex12948scream-kiwi79 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​​​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Nathan Bateman x Reader

Words: 950

Summary:When your mother has an accident it was no question that you’d go to take care of her. During your time away, Nathan realizes a couple of things he rather not admit.

Nathan got out of the shower, water dripping down his toned back, he let out a sigh.

He was annoyed.

Annoyed with himself and with you.

You had to leave to go back home to your parents. Of course, Nathan couldn’t leave his work behind, so he stayed while you left.

This was two days ago and Nathan already missed you.

The day you left, he was relieved, he often told you how much you annoyed him, how much he wanted to be alone, so it felt like a blessing.

Then, on the third day, everything came down crumbling.

He woke up and realized you were not there, he went downstairs and you weren’t in the kitchen either. You weren’t there to make him breakfast, to annoy him with your terrible jokes, he was just like he used to be, alone.

Nathan was so used to having you there with him. For the last five years, you only left for vacations, but even then, he was with you.

Out of instinct, he yelled for you, “Y/N! Do you know where I put my phone?!” but no answer came.

He missed you, and he was too proud to admit it.

He wanted to call you, text you, anything. He wanted to hear your voice, see your smile.

Fuck, he MISSED you.

And he hated it.

He never wanted to get so attached to anyone. Which is why he had robots. But now, now he had you, now he had someone to miss.

And he hated it.

He hated that he loved you.

Then his phone started ringing. After a good few seconds, he finally found it, and he saw your name across the screen, he immediately picked it up.

“Nate! Hii.” he heard your voice, you were smiling, he could tell.

“Hi.” was all he could say.

“Hi, how are you? I hope you ate and slept well, I did leave you food in the fridge.”

Oh. He didn’t see that.

“Yeah.”

“Good, look so, Mum fell and twisted her ankle, but since dad has to work I will have to stay a bit longer than I anticipated. So, I guess you’ll get the peace and quiet you wanted.”

“Everything’s perfect…How long will you stay?” he asked although he was rather afraid of the answer.

“About a…month.” Nathan nearly chocked. “But it should be fine, you can get more work done with me gone, just like you said.”

He lied, of course he lied, why did you believe him?

“Yeah. I’ll be able to.” No, he won’t.

“Great, just don’t forget to sleep and eat normally please, I have to go now, okay, text me and I’ll call you tomorrow. I love you.”

“Okay, bye.”

You smiled and put your phone away, this was normal Nathan behaviour, little did you know just how much he missed you.

He couldn't even get one project done.

He couldn't focus. He had way too many emotions in him.

He was lonely, angry, and horny.

Oh, just how horny he was. He was seriously contemplating turning his old machine back on, but he knew you’d leave him if he did. And he would not even dare to do anything that would make you leave him.

He sat in his favourite chair with a beer in hand.

A week passed, then another, and he started to become worse and worse.

Even if you called him almost every day, it wasn’t enough for him.

He missed you too much.

So, he did what he thought to be the second most logical thing after drinking his sorrow away and packed a bag.

“Mum? Would you like something to drink?” you yelled from the kitchen to your mother. Even after two weeks, her ankle started to get a lot better but you decided to stay for Nathan’s sake. He needed the time alone, even if you missed him so much.

“I’m good, Honey, thank you.” she replied from her room. “Did you speak with Nathan today?”

“Not yet, I’ll call him after lunch.”

Then there was a knock on the front door, you dried your hands and headed to see just who it was.

“Nathan?" you were shocked to see your boyfriend in the door. "Wh-”

You wanted to ask why or how was he there but he was quicker as he captured your lips in a kiss. You didn’t even have time to fully process what was happening.

When he pulled back from the kiss, he pulled you in for a hug.

“I missed you too.” you said, smiling. You knew he would never admit it, but his actions spoke louder.

“Who is it Y/N?” asked your mum as she peaked out of her room. “Oh. Sorry.” she said after seeing you two in the doorway, you tried to pull back, but Nathan didn’t let you, he still wanted to hold you, just a bit longer.

Once the two of you finally headed inside, you noticed that Nathan looked tired.

Truth was he found out that he just cannot sleep now without you. He ate the food you left for him, but that wasn’t enough for him to feel better.

He needed you.

So, once he trimmed his beard, shaved his head off and slept, he looked like the man you left behind in that lonely house.

After that even, Nathan never, ever wanted to be separated from you. Maybe just for a couple of days.

Taglist:imreadinggoaway@fleursirvart​ @v-2buckyehsebastiancrunch-time-sports @pxstelrainbow​ablogbypeteparkerliamssmilersmexylemony@greenarrowhead​feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace@sincerelyfan@theoneanna@aestheticsandmarvel@rororo06@castellandiangelo@avengers-r-us@destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpstercelebsimagine @capsiclesdollsnoopy3000@firstangeldragonranch@puknowcrazzyter @alwayshave-faith@soleil-dor@alex12948scream-kiwi79 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​​​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Met Halfway [ Steven Grant/Moon Knight/Marc Spector x Reader ]

Summary: When Marc asks you to make sure Steven does not figure out about his mercenary life, you wind up making things more difficult.

A/N: Hello! Just want to clarify that this is ONLY based on the first episode, not the following ones as they have not been released! So if the storyline is a bit off or seems inconsistent, that is why! I wanted to write something already and have no patience lol

Other than that, I hope you enjoy and know that there is SPOILERS AHEAD!

Marvel MASTERLIST

-

It was a normal night, really, in your defense. There was not a thought in your mind that would have guessed you would be comforting your nice and mannered neighbor, Steven Grant.

Well, it was your promise to Marc to make sure he did not pursue the phone further or the reflection shaking his head in the mirror.

You had been relaxing peacefully in your apartment one Sunday night when you heard Steven screaming and yelling different things and doors slamming around. You were quick to react and exit your apartment only for the elevator doors to close with him in it.

It was difficult to keep up with this newfound life. Marc, who spoke normally and often had a confident manner, had approached you when you were trying to open your door with handfuls of grocery bags. He had offered you help and gotten to know you well.

However, sooner or later he knew that he had to tell someone the truth… and he quickly made the decision that you would be the exception. His neighbor who would likely hear his mercenary side kick in and experience it first hand. So, he revealed his alter and how he needed your help to make sure Steven did not wander too far off the deep end.

You surprisingly took it well as you were a retired SHIELD agent who took to London for a breath of fresh air after SHIELD had fallen to Hydra. It was a mess but London had screamed your name for an escape.

And now, once again you were wrapped up in a world of chaos and a little crush on both Marc and Steven. While Marc took control and was very adamant with you, Steven was often polite and kept simple conversations with you. Marc had convinced you to go out on a date with Steven to get more involved with that side of him. While you were often confused about your feelings, you fell for Steven who was always so confused and tired but was a love sick puppy.

However, when he agreed to your date, you found yourself wondering why you agreed to do this. You knew eventually this would fall apart, like Steven had told you… don’t get too attached because he does not know how it will all end.

But as you watched Steven run back from the elevator, you knew you were in for the long run.

“Steven! Everything alright?” You said hurriedly and ran to him. You met halfway and he immediately grabbed your shoulders.

“I don’t… I don’t know what I saw and everything is flickering and there was this mummy…” he was blabbering on and you knew that this would lead to nowhere good. You could almost hear Marc saying to defuse the situation.

“Hey, why don’t we go back inside your place and make some tea, okay? We can go and relax and get your mind off of this.” You smiled at him to hopefully help him calm, which helped him in the slightest. He would later admit that your smile was the one thing that always made his heart thump wildly and his thoughts seem to slip away.

You both entered his apartment where you began to set the kettle and Steven sat down on a nearby chair.

“I’m going insane,” he whispered and looked down at his shaking hands. He was on edge and you knew that you had to get his mind off of everything.

You knelt down to his level and grabbed his cold hands. He glanced into your eyes and there was a moment of complete, comfortable silence that he appreciated.

Steven knew you were not judging him but simply letting him calm down. He could trust that you would not run away, scared he was a mad man.

And for what he was too afraid to do the night of your first date, he leaned forward and you met him halfway, lips meeting and eyes closing in content.

He was gentle with you as he cupped his hands on your cheeks, while you placed your hands on his knees.

It wasn’t long before he pulled away and placed a delicate kiss on your forehead instead.

“Thank you,” he said quietly to you.

“For what?” You also spoke low as to not disrupt the special moment.

“For not being scared of me but rather offering to help me out. Others probably would have thought I was crazy and called the cops.” He chuckled, but you could tell it was not a genuine laugh. The brokenness and tired expression spoke for itself.

“Anything for my favorite neighbor,” you joked.

While the future was uncertain for you and Marc, you knew that at least you had Steven to worry about for the time being. And Steven wanted to worry about you too in a sense of protection and wanting to be by your side every day.

Marc and Steven regain consciousness expecting the worst.

I sobbed writing this.

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|Part 4|Part 5|Part 6|Part 7|Part 8|Part 9|Part 10|Part 11|Part 12|Part 13 | Part 14 |Part 15

Tagged:@simpforbuckyb,@gracehorses,@raging-trash-of-mind,@galactic-galabee,@wordacadabra,@lucy-sky,@im-a-slut-for-fluff,@startrekkingaroundasgard,@agustdeeyaa,@theratscorner,@villainarc-2,@daddysfavoritesexkitten,@nothxney,@just-call-me-non,@thefreshprinceofmirkwood,@jamiethenerdymonster,@storyteller-le,@unofficialavenger90,@whitewolfstar01,@rosaren2498,@darklingbrekksov,@gadsgikklesen,@ultrablackwidower,@revenge-of-the-bucket-demon,@rellasnowheenim,@natalieisfreeziing,@nyeddleblog,@21st-century-daydreamer,@nemtodd-barnes1923,@yes-im-your-mom,@sleepgod182,@sarcasm-n-insomnia,@allthecurls-misc,@moony-artemis,@whovian378,@flightsoffandom, @thepurpleaccount, @cole-silas, @christineblood, @1-800-vader, @roomiesoreo, @beebslebobs, @theclassicvinyldragon,@thelastemzy,@tsnelf7,@bex-tk1, @ineedmorejakelockley, @graciexmarvel,@later-gators12, @kezibear, @galacticstxrdust,@violet-19999,@dropdeadbec,@toracainz,@ahookedheroespureheart,@sunsetseb,@damndosebois, @auszimbo, @ddaeing,@soggumm​, @queen-cher-2002-blog, @sgt-morgan​

Warnings: blood, discussion of mental health

Gif Source: paper-n-ashes

Steven was too shaken to take control of the body, ceding it to Marc the moment they both became aware again.

The blackout had been shorter than the last one but more worrying. Fear of what they would find as they woke infected both men, sharpening their anxiety to almost unbearable levels. Steven could feel himself verging on hysteria in his desperation to know and yet not know what had happened while they were unconscious.

Marc expected blood. The last few times he had blacked out, there had always been blood and bodies, save for that moment in the taxi. All other times, it had been a massacre.

Therewas blood, but it had dried. You were clothed, long sleeves almost covering the bandages laced up your arms. The cuts had been deeper than he had realized, the flesh scored by your nails. In the time Steven and Marc had been unconscious, you had not only dressed yourself and your wounds, but you had also done everything necessary to render your nails blunt.

Marc didn’t know what to say or ask as he surveyed the surprising lack of damage in the space. Aside for a towel crusted with dry blood, everything was as he had left it.

“You’re…okay,” he managed to say.

You shrugged, stared down at your newly trimmed nails. Lethargy coated your movements, lined your face alongside mild strain. Whatever had happened had taken everything from you, leaving you exhausted and potentially numb, if your expression had anything to say about it.

Marc sat down beside you on the bed. He felt as clueless about how to proceed as Steven, who fretted in his mind and in the reflections of the room. What could he say in response to what he had seen? What could he say when he didn’t even know what had transpired in the blackout?

A sudden fear lodged ice cold in his stomach. Swallowing thickly, he almost didn’t voice it aloud, afraid to hear the answer. “Has that…happened before?”

For several heartbeats, you didn’t answer. You hardly stirred in response to the question, as though rendered comatose. The fear thickened in Marc’s guts, sending Steven haywire. If you said no, then that meant your hurt, the damage you had inflicted on yourself, was a direct result of their attempts to intervene. Instead of helping, they had hurt you, driven you to hurt yourself.

Marc wasn’t sure he could live with that. He had blood on his hands, but he could honestly say he had never put blood on someone else’s, least of all their own. The very thought drove him to the brink of despair and the most intense self-loathing he had ever experienced. If he had done this—if you had suffered because of him and Steven—then he was no better than his mother, perhaps even worse because he thought he had been helping.

You sucked in a breath, startling him to the present, sending his heart leaping against his chest. “Yes.”

Relief had never felt so good. Marc exhaled explosively, unaware he had been holding his breath so tightly, every muscle in his body coiled with anxiety. Your response slowly sunk in, dropping down like a stone through the depths of his relief, until it settled at the bottom, kicking up silt and muddying the waters.

“That doesn’t sound healthy,” he heard himself say.

“I know it isn’t healthy! But I’m not healthy, and I never will be, so I have to fucking make do, don’t I?”

Marc leaned back from your sudden vehemence. Tears rimmed your eyes, but you blinked them away furiously, knuckled them away hard enough to leave the skin underneath momentarily inflamed. You clenched your fists.

Some blood seeped through the bandages, staining it as your sudden violence broke open the healing flesh anew.

Guilt gnawed at him again. Again, he struggled to find words.

Hanging your head, you raked a hand across your scalp, blunt nails dragging audibly, and said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You were just saying the truth. I know, because I tell it to myself all the time. I know it’s not…but there’s this little part of me that says—that says I can handle it. That next time it won’t be as bad.” You stared down at your hands, scrutinizing them as though suddenly aware of the pain they could inflict. “Sometimes I tell myself I need help, and then in the next breath, I’m saying, No, I can’t expect someone else to understand. This is my burden.”

Marc went still, Steven along with him. Your words echoed in his skull, reflecting his own beliefs back to him. He knew those words, those fragile lies built into truths.

“You know that Christian thing about the footprints in the sand?”

“No,” he managed through the thickness in his throat.

“There’s this…I don’t know, story or whatever where it says you are walking along the beach, and God is walking with you. There are two pairs of footprints in the sand. But then storms come, and you’re suddenly alone, and it’s only one pair of footprints in the sand. And one day, when the storms have passed and God is beside you again, you ask, ‘Where were you? I needed you.’ And…” Your voice grew thick. “He answers, ‘I didn’t abandon you. When you saw only one set of footprints, they were mine. During the storm, I carried you.’”

You suddenly choked back a sob, so sudden and violent that it scared you as much as Marc and Steven combined. “And I want to believe that, but I can’t. No matter how hard I try, I can’t believe it, because I feel so alone. Those are just my footprints on the beach. There was never a second pair. And the storm is never going to end. I’m stuck in it forever.”

Your hands were clamped between your knees, your body shuddering with your attempts to stem the sudden emotion crashing through you. Strangled sobs slipped past your lips, preventing you from speaking further.

The emotions Marc had been feeling moments before relief, the despair and self-loathing, palpably radiated off you as you fought with yourself to rein them in. It oozed over Marc with a stickiness he recognized.

But instead of agitating him, it set him in motion. He reached out, gently touched your shoulder.

The sobs poured out freely the moment he did, as though he had given you permission.

Looping his arm around your shoulders, he drew you to his chest, let you cry into his neck and shirt. In moments his collar was soaked from your tears and snot. Your fingers clutched at him, seeking an anchor in the storm.

He helped you weather it.

Steven goes hunting for help.

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|Part 4|Part 5|Part 6|Part 7|Part 8|Part 9|Part 10|Part 11|Part 12|Part 13 | Part 14 |Part 15 |Part 16

Tagged:@simpforbuckyb​,@gracehorses​,@raging-trash-of-mind​,@galactic-galabee​,@wordacadabra​,@lucy-sky​,@im-a-slut-for-fluff​,@startrekkingaroundasgard​,@agustdeeyaa​,@theratscorner​,@villainarc-2​,@daddysfavoritesexkitten​,@nothxney​,@just-call-me-non​,@thefreshprinceofmirkwood​,@jamiethenerdymonster​,@storyteller-le​,@unofficialavenger90​,@whitewolfstar01​,@rosaren2498​,@darklingbrekksov​,@gadsgikklesen​,@ultrablackwidower​,@revenge-of-the-bucket-demon​,@rellasnowheenim​,@natalieisfreeziing​,@nyeddleblog​,@21st-century-daydreamer​,@nemtodd-barnes1923​,@yes-im-your-mom​,@sleepgod182​,@sarcasm-n-insomnia​,@allthecurls-misc​,@moony-artemis​,@whovian378​,@flightsoffandom​, @thepurpleaccount, @cole-silas, @christineblood​, @1-800-vader, @roomiesoreo​, @beebslebobs, @theclassicvinyldragon​,@thelastemzy​,@tsnelf7​,@bex-tk1​, @ineedmorejakelockley, @graciexmarvel​,@later-gators12​, @kezibear, @galacticstxrdust​,@violet-19999​,@dropdeadbec​,@toracainz​,@ahookedheroespureheart​,@astrolockley​​,@damndosebois​, @auszimbo, @ddaeing,@soggumm​, @queen-cher-2002-blog​, @sgt-morgan,@faefanatic​​

Warnings: religious discourse (may contain errors)

Gif Source: nicolatexla

You slept hard after your emotional release. Swaddled tightly in sheets and pillows, you breathed shallow but evenly, your expression smooth and slack. Marc and Steven watched you for almost an hour, checking to see if nightmares or something else disturbed your slumber. Only when they were assured that you were sleeping soundly did they retreat to the balcony outside the hotel room.

Sliding the glass door shut behind him, Marc paced, trying to expend the restless energy clawing through him. Your emotions had struck too close to him, brushing up against his with bristles that irritated him. The only person whose emotions had ever nearly triggered his was Steven, and that was a whole other box to unpack.

“Marc.”

Steven’s soft voice slowed him. Marc glanced at his reflection in the sliding glass doors. Steven attempted a sympathetic smile, but the slash of his mouth was grim, worn down by the emotional turbulence. Neither of them had signed up for someone as troubled as themselves.

“You sure know how to pick ’em, Steven,” Marc half-heartedly joked.

“Well, I picked you, didn’t I? Or, erm, you picked me.” Steven shook his head. “A month ago, we wouldn’t have made it through that, yeah?”

“No, we wouldn’t have.”

They sat with that thought, processing it. A month ago, they had been in denial, fighting each other with the conviction that only one of them was in the right. A month ago, Marc would have fled the room in the face of your words and emotional vulnerability, would have preferred to fling himself off the balcony in his efforts to escape.

That he had not only not run but had actually stayed to help, to hold you up, was progress. That he could live with.

“Next steps,” he prompted Steven, resorting to what he did best: action. “How do we find an expert on this stuff, like you suggested?”

Steven rolled his eyes. “The internet.”

“Right.” Marc pulled out his phone, realized belatedly it was not a smart one. “We need a computer.”

~~

An hour later, they sat on the balcony, nestled in the corner between the edge of the glass doors and the wrought-iron railing, a laptop balanced on their knees. Steven took over, having a better idea of what to look for.

He glanced through the doors frequently, checking on you while the hotel’s mediocre wifi took its time loading web pages. You slept soundly, the weight of your burden invisible or perhaps gone altogether in your sleep.

“Do we ever look like that?” he asked absently.

“We do now, those blackouts aside,” Marc answered.

“I can’t think about that right now.”

“I know.”

Steven resumed searching. He narrowed down his parameters to professors in psychology, sociology, and anthropology. Of the three, he expected the last to be the most fruitful.

After an hour and a half of searching, he felt like abandoning the idea. Nothing was yielding fruit. Tapping his fingers against the laptop, he tried to approach the problem from a different direction. He searched for biologists specializing in parasites, waded through twenty minutes worth of material before having to close out of the browser entirely in a futile attempt to delete the information from his brain, his skin crawling.

He cast his net wider. Searching through professors of literature across the world, he tried to find anything that even closely resembled knowledge of parasitic gods and their interactions with humans, even if it was only to be found in the pages of fiction. He sifted through folklorists and those specializing in urban legends.

Hopelessness began to snare his efforts. Rubbing his eyes, Steven leaned back in his chair, stared up at the night sky. Too much light pollution prevented him from seeing the stars, but the moon hung ponderously above him, staring down like an evil eye.

He refused to consider Khonshu’s prolonged absence.

“Maybe we have to do this a different way,” Marc suggested as Steven straightened again and stared at the blank Google search box.

“Do you have any ideas?”

“No.”

“Didn’t think so,” Steven quipped.

He googled theologians. Inundated in results across a variety of beliefs but mostly Christian, he searched half a dozen pages before returning to the blank search page. With an exasperated sigh, he typed in gods and humans.

The topmost result caught his eye immediately. Google had spat up a list of books and where to purchase them at the top of the page, the actual website search results underneath them. Two books from the left was something titled Human Nature and Divine Interference by a professor from an Ivy League university.

Hope flickered in Steven’s chest. He read the book jacket, then hastily typed the professor’s name into the search bar. Several results quickly populated, among them YouTube links to clips of various lectures the man had given around the world. Steven clicked on one called “When Gods and Humans Meet.”

The professor was perhaps in his early forties with a head full of short, silky hair. He unironically wore a tweed jacket with elbow patches, but his color scheme of navy, white, and tan worked well on him. He looked at home upon the podium, eyes bright with excitement as he conveyed his knowledge to the auditorium.

“The vast majority of Christians believe that divine interference is the best thing in the world. To have God step in and resolve problems is the height of faith. ‘Give it all up to God,’ they say, ‘for He is benevolent and only wants to help, if you let him.’ This, of course, is an incredible belief, built off the Judaic belief that God searches for man.” He smiled. “As an aside, please see Abraham J. Heschel’s quintessential work, The Prophets, if you wish to understand how God uses prophets in an attempt to do just that, as well as his God in Search of Man.”

Clearing his throat, the professor continued, “The reason these beliefs are so astounding is because all other faiths, Islam excluded, of course, did not see all their gods as benevolent. If anything, they were, at best, indifferent—at worse, malevolent. Consider the Greeks and their pantheon. Unlike, say, the Egyptian pantheon, which built its mythology on explaining abstract concepts and elements and nature, the Greeks populated their pantheon with gods that were all too human. They drank, cavorted, lusted, cheated, failed. They were as fallible as humans.”

He paused, scanning the crowd of faces before him. “What did this mean for humans?” He waited for a response.

“It explained their own debauchery and shortcomings,” someone answered off camera, their voice tiny without a microphone to amplify it.

“Yes, it did. But it meant more than that. Greek literature is filled with gods and humans. And what happens to each human that interacts with a god? Something terrible.”

Steven sucked in a breath, hunched over the laptop as the professor cleared his throat, made a show of shuffling through the papers in front of him on the podium.

“To interact with the divine was to suffer,” he said, his voice low. “If you came upon an unaware god in the forest, your punishment was swift and immediate, usually involving transfiguration from human to something like a tree or animal. If a god came to you, it could mean any number of things; if Zeus came to you, there was a good chance his vengeful wife Hera would follow to slaughter you and any offspring he sired on you.”

Uneasy chuckles rippled through the crowd.

“If you take anything away from this lecture, it should be this: If the deity isn’t God or Allah, run—and pray the deity doesn’t care. Otherwise, you’ll be in for a world of hurt.”

Steven leaned back in his seat, the excitement of discovery coursing through him. Drafting up an email, he shot it off to the address provided on the professor’s faculty page.

It bounced back seconds later with an out-of-office reply stating he was on sabbatical.

“Bollocks,” Steven muttered, slumping back in his seat.

“That just means we have to do this the hard way,” Marc stated.

“What does that mean?”

“We’re going to find him and pay him a visit.”

3 A.M.

Pairing: Marc Spector x Reader

Summary: What else is there to do in the dead of night when you can’t sleep besides baking and dancing?

Warnings: pure fluff

MASTERLIST

—

Y/N cracked an egg on the rim of her mixing bowl, humming along to the melody she had on a continuous loop in her head. It’s the dead of night and since she couldn’t sleep, her only option was to get out of bed and do something to wear her out. 

Too wrapped up in her own little world, she hadn’t noticed that she was not alone in the kitchen anymore. Marc had rolled over in bed to pull his lady closer to him but instead, his hand only came in contact with the cold sheets on her side of the bed. With a smile on his face, he watched in silence as she swayed her hips to whatever song she was busy humming away while she combined the ingredients needed to make brownies. Stealthy, he crossed the floor inching closer to her and once she was in arm’s reach, he snaked his arms around her waist and kissed the back of her head.

“Hello to you too, mister Spector.” Marc pulled her flush against his shirtless frame leaving kisses along the column of her neck.

“Couldn’t sleep?" 

"Nope so now I’m baking, which I won’t be able to keep doing if you keep kissing me like that.” Marc lightly bit down on her flesh and pulled away from their embrace.

“Tease.” Y/N continued mixing the batter and once it was all combined she poured it into her baking pan and popped it into the oven. 

While she was cleaning up the counter Marc decided to play some music. The familiar tune of Frank Sinatra’s song I love you baby filled the kitchen, bringing a smile onto her lips.

“Dance with me baby.” Marc left no room for her to fight him on this one as he plucked the dishcloth from her hands and threw it to the side.

You’re just too good to be true

I can’t take my eyes off of you

You’d be like heaven to touch

Oh, I wanna hold you so much

At long last love has arrived 

And I thank God that I’m alive 

You’re just too good to be true

I can’t take my eyes off of you

Y/N locked her fingers at the base of his neck while he pulled her flush against his body, securing his arms around her waist. The couple gazed into each other’s eyes with a matching smile on their faces while Marc gently swayed them to the beat of the music. Neither of them couldn’t recall the last time they’d spent time together like this but that didn’t seem to matter as they both got lost in the moment.

As the song went on, they both stole a few chased kisses here and there. Marc’s smile grew wider upon hearing her bubbly laugh that escaped her as he twirled her around; he’d do anything to keep hearing that sweet sound. The song came to an end and another began to play. Y/N thought they’d finish dancing but Marc held on to her tighter to keep her close to him.

“One more song.” 

She couldn’t say no to him so, one more song led to another and another until they both lost track of the time dancing in the middle of the kitchen. Y/N kissed him while he lowered her into a dip at the end of God knows which number song this was only to almost last on her butt at the scent of her brownies being burnt in the oven.

“Shit, the brownies!”

—

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