#also fuck wendy spector

[mrcspectr]

Oh Elias is such a complex character. Wendy is irredeemable, but there's room to argue that what Elias has made is mistakes. I suspect there will be more to unpack with him with Jake, though.

Oh exactly, exactly, and I love how they managed it with so little screen time or exposition. It was very much a show, don't tell sort of thing, which is one of my favorite methods of storytelling. They didn't have to outright say, yeah, Elias was in a weird position and he did a bad job of it so Marc left anyway. (Which is boiling it down to the bare minimum, but you get where I'm headed there.)

We feel Elias's love for Marc, we see him continue to reach out to him even in the midst of an unspeakable tragedy. We see him literally chase him out the door, the very first time Marc runs away. He's the one that calls Marc when Wendy dies, so in a way, he's the one that starts breaking down the walls between Marc and Steven.

I want to know more about him. And to be honest, I want to know more about their childhood that we don't see, hell, that maybe Marc and Steven don't even see. What happens that brings Jake forward? What about their parents has Jake protected them from?

#i just #goddamn #every time i think about it i start pounding my fists on my desk #i physically need to know at some point in my life #we spent six episodes hinting at jake's introduction i just #want to know more about him #and it's like #a pointed thing that they haven't just outright said 'yeah this character's story is done now sorry we're not doing anymore' #like it makes me crazy #every other disney+ show/character is growing expanding exploring other avenues and i just #like c'mon just give it a chance #ragnell #asks #mk meta #also fuck wendy spector #i don't think i said it before but the intent was there

[friendlyneighbourhood-parker]

nagging and napping

pairing: Steven grant x reader, Marc spector x reader, Jake lockley x reader

Summary: after a good-bye party for Layla you get hurt and the moonboys have to manage taking care of you on their own ways while making sure you remember that this wasn't your fault

Word count: 12 k

Warnings: child abuse, wendy's mentioned, panic attacks, wound patching as a way of showing affection, implied smut, the wounds really don't make sense i'm sorry, intrussive thoughts, negative self talk, mentions of blood and wounds angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort

A/N: This wasn't supposed to be so long nor take as much time to write as it did! this started as a bucky fic back when Falcon and the winter soildier was airing but never really liked it. now I love it and loved writting it so I hope you guys like it too! also I think it looks way nicer on ao3 but if you want to read it here I won't be mad about it

special thanks to my amaizing betta reader @devilish-mirage her notes and sweet words are what motivated me to continue!

also to @bassist-vortex whom I now own a lollypop bcs it's longer than 6k and didn't mind when I texted him at 2 am about being so fucking done drafting this.

Come on, breathe

In, out. In, out. One, two, three

“Fucking hell!!!” You winced avoiding to look his way, your hands quickly trailing up to cover your mouth, muffling the string of curses.

Your mind frantically ran through every and any single possible scenario trying to detach itself from the notorious pain from the side of your body, the sting running across your back when the soaking cotton made contact with the wounded skin.

Breathe, just breathe

Teeth sunk into your hand trying your best to drown the scream creeping from your throat, your other hand trembling while holding up the t-shirt you wore to make his job easier.

God

You couldn’t even look at him not when the probability of seeing him frowning at you was huge. One of his hands held you keeping you as still as he could while the other cleaned away the scrapes on your torso.

“Told you to be careful”

It was the first thing he said after getting home, Marc placed you on top of the kitchen table and ran to get the aid kid from the wardrobe in the back, cursing at Steven for moving it from the top of the fridge.

In and out, breathe

He tried his best not to prolong the pain, dabbing carefully and looking up to check your reaction, or at least he tried to but your eyes never shifted from the window and even if they did they never fell into him.

His tone was harsh fuelled by his immense worry, he shook his head pouring alcohol into a new cotton. He knew his way around this but the way your chest moved and breath picked up made him nervous, the hand that was once holding you trailed along the outside of your thigh trying to ease you, and yet you thought he was furious.

“¿Te lo dije, o no?”

 “Fuck off” You hated getting scolded like a child, the guilt bubbling in your chest.  You side-eyed him before shutting your eyes and slamming your hand on the table.

¡Respira maldita sea!

You tried your best to regulate yourself before looking back at him. His eyes never left the place where the wound was, sitting on a chair to be head level to it and with the trash bin on his side to discard everything he used.

You were scared and yet his fear was greater, he was about to fucking scream.

He’s done this thousands of times before, not as many as Marc but his sudden ‘shutdown’ left him with no choice but to attend your wounds.

For fucks sake Marc, couldn’t you choose a better time to freak out?

To be honest he didn’t blame him, it was only his nervousness taking the best of him. In the past he had attended his own wounds before making that stupid deal with the moon god that got him the suit, but it was you they were talking about, none of them wanted to see you in pain and the mere thought of not being able to help you was enough for Jake being pushed forward.

He tried his best to be quick, to not linger in his mind and finish up so you could rest, but the voice of the worried British man that lived in him didn’t make concentrating any easier.

“Steven, si no te callas juro que-“ He whispered to himself and sighed looking back at you “Mi amor, I need you to stay still, ‘kay?”

You nodded lifting the t-shirt even higher, finally deciding to grip it with your teeth, it wouldn’t get in his way and would work wonders muffling you. The pain was worst, He expected you to flinch when he started stitching the cut on your shoulder but for some reason your knuckles turning white when you gripped the edge of the table seemed to have a greater effect on him as his hand began to shudder. He took a deep breath and glanced at your pained expression before continuing.

Where was Layla in a moment like this?

Took them home, remember?

The reason why he had to clean you up in the first place, the guy who you saw across the pub bothering a girl and her friend. The thing is you knew the guy, he ruined the night out you had with a couple of friends some weeks ago. The boys weren’t at home when it happened and Layla had to travel thanks to her line of work to recover some stolen goods, so you decided that going for drinks with your best friend was a good idea.

And it was, it really was until that twat started to roam around you just like he was doing with the girls. You were out as a makeshift ‘goodbye party’ for Layla before she had to leave to secure a buyer for the recently collected stolen goods. Marc went for more drinks while she excused herself to the restroom, you? You walked across the venue to strike him as soon as his hand tried to reach for the girl’s bum.

There is a downside about being constantly surrounded by people who commune with the gods, you sometimes forget you aren’t more than a mere human, you don’t have powers nor a fancy suit and every blow you get can be mortal.

And so when his fist collided against your side taking almost all your breath out of you, it was your doom and yet the second blow seemed even worse, some people ran to help you, others held him but your mind was only on the young lass who shivered on her friend’s arms.

On the bright side Marc and Layla got there before he tried anything else and yet it seemed to be a tad late, you were dizzy and needed to go home. It wasn’t really that big of a deal and yet the pain was present, mostly from your ego being hurt, some from the actual punch.

Marc made sure he was kicked out and you companied Layla to bus stop after she offered to take the girls home, you craved the air on your face and the feeling of it filling your lungs once more not expecting to be followed on your way back to the car. You could see Marc waiting for you, leaning against the passenger’s side, you held your hand up ready to call for him when you felt it. It didn’t come to your mind that he would take it further than a punch, but the sharp pain on your shoulder and your blouse being tinted in crimson made you let out a loud scream, one of pure pain and fucking regret. Just in time for Marc to watch it.

“Just a few stitches left baby” He tried to reassure you but it only made your need to go at him grow “Come on, breathe”

It’s not like you weren’t reminding yourself of that, to just focus on your breathing and forget about what was going on, to detach yourself from the pain but it wasn’t that easy.

“¡Mierda Lockley!” You tilted your head to the side heavily breathing.

“that’s right” once you snapped back to reality he was throwing away the last bit on cotton and placing a bandage to secure the stitches and rubbing your back carefully “We’re done”

He placed a kiss near where the bandages were, the pearls of sweat glistened on both of your bodies and a tired laugh came from within your lips, still high on the adrenaline you locked eyes.

“Thanks baby”

“Just please… don’t try that shit again” You felt his touch, his hands brushing your hair away, the sweet gesture making you close your eyes nodding to his request.

But he knew better.

He knew just like every other occasion you wouldn’t listen, not to Marc, not to Steven and most certainly not to him. He would have to use both his hands to count how many times he had to drag your ass out of situations like this, times when he got in time before something bad happened and the line of curses directed at the other person slowly died down on the way back home.

“You should’ve let me”

Your arms were crossed in front of your chest as you stared at the road, Marc was the one fronting that particular night, driving both of you to the flat.

“I don’t want anything happening to you” he sighed, his eyes never leaving the road “I wouldn’t be able to take it”

Not all of the occasions where the same but had few things in common, you wanted to help and they had to talk some sense into you before the reckless part of your brain decided to take action. This time was different tho, they didn’t have the opportunity to stay on the talking stage of the little routine, resulting on the little pep talk you were immersed in.

He reached for you carefully trying to lift you but the touch was met with your hand pulling his away before resting your back on the table. He was confused but didn’t complain.

“Leave me here” your voice was barely audible as you dozed off “Wait for Layla in bed”

Layla, one of your best friends and the one who used to have your place in Marc’s heart. At first they tried but their relationship was complicated, too many lies and too many betrayals can doom any marriage, they knew that, they knew how much damage the lack of communication had caused and yet they couldn’t part from one another. Too much history and feelings to even try and explain, but she had to move on to find peace and so she left for a while with the promise of being for him whenever he needed her, the silence and loneliness being something he grew accustomed to and yet it left him aching for the love she gave him.

 Then you appeared in the picture, Jake was fond of you since the moment his eyes laid on you, going out of his way to rearrange for you and Steven to meet, let’s just say both of them fancied the tiny moments they had with you, Steven taking you out in the mornings for a cup of tea to his favourite spot and Jake preferring to drive you around the city at night even if you didn’t know it was him. Then you found out about Marc in the worst way possible, at a pub drunk as he could get.

 He knew it could trigger him to switch with more ease but there was also the possibility of his mind going quiet for a second, to forget that the woman he loved wasn’t on his side for just a moment, to think that he would find her when coming back home. That’s when he felt your touch on his back and a kiss on his cheek followed by the little pet name.

“Hi amor”

Fuck he was confused as to why in the middle of him grieving and yearning for Layla there was another person who touched him the same way he expected her to do so. Then he opened his mouth letting his confused tone swoon you.

Wasn’t this Steven? Wasn’t this the man you’ve been seeing for the past month and a half? You were pretty sure he was and yet the strong American accent said otherwise. Until there wasn’t one, his gaze softening and his lips twitching in a broken smile as he tried to explain what was going on with the same accent you’ve grew to love.

You worked things out but not before scolding Jake for letting you believe they didn’t understand those little confessions of love you offered in your mother tongue. That’s how you started to date the three of them, completely mesmerized by every part of your moon boys. Then Layla came back, but not as the lover she used to be but as a friend, as the shoulder Marc could lay on whenever he needed, a place he could feel safe and someone who slowly became just as much as a necessity for you as it did for him.

“Mi amor, she’ll kill me if she finds you here alone” he laughed when you pushed his face softly “y no quiero dejarte”

“Jake, ya… porfa” He saw the way your chest movements slowed down finally falling asleep. He went towards the bed grabbing a pillow and blanket, placing it carefully under your head and covering your body to keep you warm.

 You’ll probably be sore in the morning but right now the best he could do was leave you to rest.

He sat back where he once was, right next to you and his hand instinctively reaching for yours. The flat would’ve been in complete silence if it weren’t for your soft snores and the humming form Jake, singing under his breath a song he heard not so long ago, the one you played that rare morning while making breakfast. The aroma of coffee and tea dragging him out of bed only to find you wearing his t-shirt and underwear, moving your hips to the melody and mouthing the words.

“How are they?” Layla creeped through the front door slowly trying to not wake you up.

“Tired…” he rubbed his eyes trying to remain awake.

“It seems they’re not the only one” She kissed the top of his head and tapped his shoulder “You should go to sleep, I’ll keep an eye on them”

“Nah, nah. I stay, you can take the bed”

She shook her head as amused as irritated, she always knew how stubborn her boys could be, always wanting to have the last word and yet they hadn’t learn. There’s no use on fighting with her, she would be the one in the right but it amazed her how they always tried. She pushed his curls backwards leaning to be on eye level.

“Jake Lockley, either you go to sleep or I’ll drag you to bed”

He chuckled rolling his eyes grabbing her by the shoulders.

“Yes ma’am”

The cold of the night slowly became a chill morning as the hours passed, the drapes didn’t do much to cover the light that came through the window hitting your face, those moments after waking up were precious, where everything seemed fine thanks to having no recollection of what happened the night prior or even who you were, until you tried to move putting all your weight into the wounded arm and the sharp pain finished the job of waking you up completely. You kicked the blanket out of the way and saw the bruising and scrapes creeping from under your clothes.

“Mierda” you slipped right back where you once laid with a thud, hearing the creek of the chair on your side.

Layla rubbed her eyes yawning and her hand moved some curls out of her face, she was still wearing the same clothes she had on last night, her leather jacket hung from the chair she was sitting on and the traces of makeup in her face told you everything you needed to know. She didn’t get much sleep last night either.

“Good morning trouble maker” her tone was soft as her hand reached to mess with your hair before walking to the cupboard where you store the glasses “The boys are sleeping… it was hard to convince Jake to stay in bed all night”

Your forearm laid on your face covering your eyes, now that the rush of adrenaline and anger from last night wore off it became easier to think, to realize how fucking reckless you’ve been and how punching a guy twice your size wasn’t the brightest idea you could think of, but it was hard to make up good ideas with an intoxicated mind and the fear on a young girl’s face.

And then stopping your mind was almost impossible as it recalled every single detail of the night, how Layla rushed to talk with the girls while Marc took the guy form the collar of his shirt dragging him outside followed by a blurry ride home with him talking to you and telling you that everything was okay. You knew those words weren’t meant for you but for him, telling himself over and over again that you were okay, because you had to be okay, he reminded himself that it was just a cut in your arm, that it wasn’t even that deep and even if it was the first time you’ve ever been hurt like this you would still live.

“I wouldn’t be able to take it”

He probably blamed himself for not reacting sooner and Steven was probably trying to ease him. Trying his damn best to stop the tears that built up in his eyes, gripping the steering wheel with such force that you knew his hands would probably hurt the next morning; Steven would’ve taken control then and there if he wasn’t just as scared as Marc was.

Puta madre

“I’m sorry” you sighed, voice breaking “I’ll never do it again”

The coldness of the glass against your arm made you peek from behind it to find her handing you some painkillers along with water. “I know” she simply said

“No use on getting emotional, ‘kay?” the closest thing to a reassuring smile formed on her face, it was the best one she could give you right now at least, to convince you it wasn’t that big of a deal and yet you could sense the undertone worry.

“You want me to help you before heading out?” she pointed at you and gestured towards the bed where your partner’s slept.

She saw you shaking your head before slowly getting up, she tried to help you but you brushed her hand away – you needed this, to know that you were still able to take care of yourself even after that mayor screw up – before embracing her in a much needed hug, she held you close while making sure not to squeeze to hard. She remembers the first time she got hurt like this and knew how painful it really was.

“Do you have to leave so soon? Marc’s more bitchy than usual after you’re gone” you closed your eyes to the feeling of her hair brushing your face, the scent of honey flooding your senses. She rested her chin on your unwrapped shoulder.

“I know” she breathed out, there was a slight undertone of worry on her voice, one so miniscule that you didn’t really catch it “But I know you can manage him”

You smiled.

She left you all alone, the light creeping in and the cold wood under your feet sending shivers down your spine, the painkillers were starting to take affect as you felt drowsier, you crawled into bed, careful not to wake up the man sleeping besides you or to accidentally hurt the damaged shoulder. The feeling of his arm instinctively reaching out for you was soothing you to finally go back to sleep.

~☽☾~

You expected after opening your eyes to be greeted by an empty bed, it wasn’t uncommon for you to be left behind like that and you really didn’t mind it. Both Marc and Steven thrived in the mornings, the rush of waking up early and get things done just before heading out, to be totally honest it amassed you how even after staying passed midnight Steven still managed to get up before the sun even rose while Jake was the total opposite, who’s only reason to leave your side and the warmth of the oh so comfortable bed – Steven had such a nice bed for someone who tried for so long not to fall asleep – was to be able to surprise you with a breakfast with some ‘flavour in it’.

His words, not yours. Poor Steven couldn’t seem to see the end of it when he cooked for the two of you, Jake pestering him about adding something that once lived and now tasted better with some hot sauce on top.

The morning birds and your night owl.

But the sight the morning granted you was worthy of heaven. Steven holding you close to him completely fixated by the shapes he traced on your thigh still covered by the blanket, he looked up after you inevitably left out the breath you didn’t know were holding in, you saw the small wrinkles on the corner of his eyes once he smiled at you.

“Morning love” it wasn’t long until you realized that his every move where slow and careful, almost calculated as if he was scare to shift a wrong way and cause you immense pain. He kissed your temple “Didn’t want to wake you up”

His accent was thicker in the mornings, a mixed of his tiredness and the dehydration from the night prior, you had the habit of taking a glass of water with you to bed, having it by your side in case either of you was thirsty but from all your boys, the only who refused to drink from the water you provided was Steven.

“Happy you didn’t” you turned to face him ignoring the immediate discomfort, you replicated his smile only yours was tinted whit malice “I would’ve kicked you out of bed”

He couldn’t help but laugh

“You’re… unbelievable” you felt him turning away, trying to get up but your arms moved quicker than your mind could proses it, wrapping them around his waist to prevent him to moved.

The pain from your torso came back, a quick reminder to keep you in place.

Slowly

“Stay” you tried to pull him closer but the pain was making it harder than it normally was “Please?”

He turned to look at you, the pained expression on your face made his gut stir, to say he was worried was an understatement, Steven was mortified by your state. It was written all over his face and in the way his fingers were almost shaking in the moment he placed a revel strand of hair behind your ear.

“I’ll make us some tea” he leaned in to kiss your forehead and his hand cupped the side of your face “It’ll make you feel better”

“I don’t want to feel better… I only want to feel you” your voice was low and raspy, you moved closer burring yourself in the crook of his neck, your good arm held the weight and while the other gently wrapped over his shoulders keeping him in place, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“How about this…” he said after a beat of silence, his hand rubbed softly the arm around him and the smell of citrus with a hint of cinnamon flooded your senses, his hair was messier than usual and you couldn’t see his face but from the way his breaths became more irregular you knew his eyes were glued to your shoulder and his mind to your torso “I’ll bring us some tea and we stay in bed, yeah? I was thinking maybe some movies”

Be careful

You nodded against his neck, your nose rubbing against his skin sending shivers down his spine, he gave a light pat to your arm before kissing it and walking away from your side, you almost could feel yourself slipping back, your arm giving up under the pressure only making you whine when your back hit against the mattress, you left your hands where they landed taking almost all the space in bed.

The mornings beside Steven were nice, starting your day with tea – while Marc preferred the taste of morning coffee and Jake settled with a cold glass of water – and vegan breakfast, sometimes there was toast with jam spread on top, other times it was scrambled eggs with beans to the side; today he completely outdid himself, coming back with a stack of pancakes drizzled with honey and frozen berries on top, a little cup filled with bananas and your tea in hand. He placed your cup by your side and kissed the top of your head while his hand cupped the crane of your neck and the little gesture sent sparks to your heart.

You tried to reach for the cup but Steven beat you to it, passing the hot beverage to you. It was milky and smelled like cinnamon and honey.

“Wait…” your head turned to look at him once both of you were tucked back in bed, your laptop proned on his chest so that both of you could see it while cuddling, he turned to look at you raising his eyebrows “Does this mean the bookstore trip is cancelled?”

“We can do that later” you used his arm as a makeshift pillow while he held you close, his hand covered your eyes playfully “right now you need to rest”

“No I don’t” you shifted to your side, putting your weight on your elbow almost peering over him.

From there you saw how he rolled his eyes and still kept a tiny smile on his face, how the laptop was placed on the floor for a moment so he could shift on his side. Now that you both were staring into each other’s faces you could see it, it was faint but it was there.

He was scared, the doe eyes he tried to suppress where still there as his worry ate him alive. You really fucked up, didn’t you? He reached for you, brushing the side of your body and accidentally making pressure near your waist. He saw first-hand how your face screwed up and you hissed at the sudden contact.

Too harsh

“I think you do” the tired tone didn’t match the perked up eyebrow adorning his face, he turned to reach once more for the electronic device and all you could do was scoff.

It really wasn’t the fact that you had to cancel your plans that bothered you, neither was spending away your Saturday evening watching movies with Steven, but you felt like a burden. You were the reason they had to come home earlier last night, why Marc couldn’t spend more time with Layla even if you knew how much he had been looking out for it and why now Steven couldn’t go out scavenging for new books to fill the blank spaces in his bookshelves, because even if you insisted for him to just go without you he wouldn’t even budge.

Calm down.

Steven was glad you couldn’t hear his thoughts or you would get a glance of how he really didn’t know how to approach you right now, he tried his best to just breath it out but his first instinct was to leave you in bed and just sit on the chair by the end of it, just coming closer when you needed something, because he didn’t want to cause you pain. But he knew better, he knew that the moment he went away from your reach he would be causing you an ever greater pain, so he settled for distracting both of you from it until it was time for him to bring you the next dosage of painkillers.

You picked the movie, an animated one that you haven’t seen since you left college. You laid with his arm around you, his warmth mixed with the blanket and heather helped you not to shiver, as the hours passed the temperature started to descend and the movie ended just in time for Steven to make a quick trip to the kitchen, bringing you back a glass of water and a tablet of medicine, you opened your mouth slightly sticking your tongue out so he could place it there before handing the glass to you.

You saw how he strolled back and forth before coming back to bed, taking away the dirty dishes and bringing both of you a new cup filled with tea, his was sweet while yours was sour. You liked the taste of sweetness in the morning when it was still blissful and quiet while opting for a more strong taste in the later hours, maybe it had something to do with the fact that you could never seem to find sugar at work and always forget to bring your own, and right now that’s what you needed the most, a sense of familiarity and a taste of your routine.

Like everything was fine, like you didn’t mess up.

“Steven?” the next movie had already been going for a couple of minutes before you decided to speak up, at this point you weren’t even paying attention to it, only using the sound from the laptop as a way to drown out the otherwise silent flat and loud mind.

“Do you need something love?” he paused the movie already getting up.

Keep calm

You shook your head and looked the other way, trying hard to avoid his stare.

“I just…” trying to gulp down the knot forming in your throat was hard. The guilt from yesterday’s events was revived and you couldn’t stop but think of how everything would’ve been different if you just listened “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the night or today for that matter, I really wanted us to go and– “

He called for your name as he moved closer towards you “It’s alright, you don’t have to apologize”

“But I do!” there was an urge bubbling in the pit of your stomach, to find a culprit and the only person available to be condemned was you “I was dumb and reckless, and you always tell me but I never listen, and if only I listened this wouldn’t have happened”

“You saw being picked on and you went out of your way to help” his hand cupped your face softly rubbing your cheek with his thumb “There’s nothing to apologize for that”

“Still–“ you felt pressure on your face as he pushed his forehead against yours, it was nice. It helped you to notice how you were tangling your hands with the blanket, gripping it hard.

“Tell that little nob of yours to stop nattering” you closed your eyes trying to focus solely on his voice and drown out the thoughts that crossed your mind, you felt the way the mattress moved under his weight when he approached you, his face finding its way towards your neck “And come take a bath… you stink” his words came through with laughter and your eyes suddenly opened as you gasped.

“You little shit!”

Taking your shirt off was a challenge he imposed himself, unable to stand watching you while you struggled to even move the arm, you tried to push him away but after a while of just fighting with it you left him do it instead. The fabric being pulled and thrown away, his calloused hands were soft against your skin careful not to tuck at the bandages that kept the wound shielded from his eyes, it was better that way, the immense relieve of not having to face it just yet, avoiding thinking about it, avoiding acknowledging it besides the lingering knowledge that he had to give you a new dosage of painkillers just after shower and not to be too rough near it.

He could just pretend it didn’t exist for a few more minutes before he had to clean it and change it. Out of sight, out of mind.

The same can’t be said by the bruising and scratches on your torso, splotches of purple and green mixed with crimson dashes reminded you of watercolour and your hand instinctively mode to it. It was captivating, brushing near it without making any pressure, oh but was it tempting. Alluring you almost, like a chant that made you compliant to the urge to dig into it, to just lean into the splashes on your side and make sure that it wasn’t just a trick of the light.

But it wasn’t the light, it was an admonition. Don’t indulge into affairs of the gods and don’t drift into the business of others.

He reacted quicker than you did, managing to pull you away from those thoughts, his hand guided yours away from your skin and his lips left soft kisses on your neck as it was the closest he dare to get to the wound.

Steven made sure the water was warm and not too hot or too cold before he helped you get into the tub. He sat right next to it, scrubbing away the sweat and worried from you with the help of a sponge, you wanted to move his hands away, to take it from him but you aching body wouldn’t let you. So you just indulged against your wishes to the care your partner provided, he made sure to not get to close to your shoulder and to clean away quickly near your ribs.

The water echoed in the tiled room and the light steam from the tub painted the mirror, his hands were all over you but it didn’t feel dirty at all, the care that grazed his gestures as he moved from your legs to your torso and finally your arm, moving it around slowly to scrub it clean, while making sure you were alright.

“Does this hurt?” “Just let me know” “Do you need a break?”

You tilted your head, peering from the edge of the tub to look at him, his figure was soaked, his arms covered in water and soap reaching to the rolled up sleeves of his jumper, the stains where the water had splashed were darker and somehow his hair had managed to also get wet, your heart ached with the need to pull him inside with you and repay the favour by scrubbing his worries away, clean him of the nasty thoughts that tormented him.

“Steven” If it hadn’t been by the calmness in your voice he would’ve thought that something he did hurt you, maybe his hands were harsher on your scratches, maybe he moved your arm too hard and your shoulder was resenting it or maybe he was just too worried to be around you at the moment. He looked back at you rising his eyebrow and with what resembled a smile “Thank you for this”

You closed your eyes in time for him to kiss your lips, it was soft and quick but filled with the unconditional love you had for one another.

“Any time, love”

~☽☾~

You had to call in sick for work and explained what happened, you tried to push it back for as long as you could but Saturday came to an end and with that the deadline was something you had to face, at the middle of your peaceful Sunday Steven went away as Jake pushed himself to front ‘quiero ver tu carita hermosa’ was the excuse he gave that granted him with you smiling immensely and rolling your eyes, for him it was amusing seeing you faking being annoyed.

Right now you couldn’t be gladder to be sleeping and waking up beside him, after Steven thought it would be a great idea to put pillows in the middle of the bed to keep you ‘safe’, to keep you away from his touch. But Jake just laughed at the thought as he embraced you in his arms, softly but steady, feeling your chest moving as you breathing relaxed him into sleeping better, the pressure in his arms helping him to sleep through the night and the strong scent of his cologne having the same effect on you. You got up thanks to the smell of breakfast and the feeling of emptiness besides you, it was weird that you missed it but right now being left behind was the last thing you needed.

“Buenos días dormilona” he took the pillow on his side of the bed, letting it fall right in front of your face and this muffling your groans “roncas horrible, did ya know?

That little bitch

A shit-eating grin was plastered on his face, the one you’ve got to know real well, his hair was pristinely combed back and was wearing only a pair of boxers – which wasn’t unusual –, while Marc preferred to wear them combined with a t-shirt to bed and Steven couldn’t even fathom the idea of not wearing pants while sleeping. He preferred to lay with you like that, to be able to feel with every inch of his skin that you were there besides him, to know you were his and – right now – to know that you were okay.

“Mira quién habla” you scoffed at him, pulling the pillow into your arms, pressing it down a bit against your chest, the markings on your torso being something that don’t bother you as much anymore, and you were grateful because that meant that you could enjoy being able to feel his rougher grip on your waist as he hugged you against him. “You talk in your sleep and I never say shit about it”

He licked his lips trying to supress a smirk.

“I’m confessin’, mi amor. That’s between Konshu and I”

His tone was condescending and yet you knew he meant no ill intent by it. He saw you get out of bed and how you were struggling to get out of the shirt you wore to sleep, but he didn’t budge, knowing that if you needed his help you would ask for it. Eventually you did, he didn’t mind at all helping you take them off, enjoying the sight of you and to leave a trail of kisses along your back, on your shoulder blades and slowly coming up to the nape of your neck. You kept those little instances close to your heart, savouring the moment with closed eyes and total silence, to hear the loud ‘smack’ that his lips did against your skin. His hands trailed from your stomach, past the bruises and scratches on your waist and ribs to stop barely under your chest.

The movement was made with ease as if he knew not to tiptoe around you. To not make you feel weird about it.

Maybe it had something to do with your upbringing, after all, growing up in a house were movement meant working and that correlated to the amount of recognition you got, the praise and love being tide with how useful you made yourself to be. You couldn’t stand to be put, feeling ill and remaining still making you anxious. For some reason you thought that feeling couldn’t be topped by anything else and then you discovered it, being a burden was something much worse.

But Jake somehow knew about that, at times you felt like he could hear your thoughts just glancing at you, reading you like an open book. And so his steady grasp was there when he help you get a new shirt – one with the smell of his cologne – with all the unsaid feelings and longing for each other.

You could feel how much he craved to pull you closer, to forget about what had happened and just loose himself in your lips. For his mind to go quiet as it couldn’t focus on anything else but you, in your hands pulling him closer, to be engulfed by you. Or maybe you were the one with those cravings.

You walked up to the kitchen, taking a look at the now empty glass still placed on the table, the droplets of water rolling down from the water Jake took a few minutes ago.  You ate the breakfast he cooked, the boiled eggs with enchiladas bringing you some remembrance of peace, you tried your best to stay grounded, to be present in the moment but he noticed how your mind trailed in the midst of it, a look he knew too well because he has been the one wearing it in the past. He was worried about you, not so much for the wounds that adorned your body, he knew how tough his partner was and that they could take that shit with ease, no, what really worried him was your mind.

Because he knew you like the palm of his hands and know how it wouldn’t give you a rest, filled with thoughts that even if Steven tried his best to scare away they still remained. He would do anything to help you stop them, he just needed you to open up about it. There was something else, something you weren’t telling him, something that bugged you with no end but he couldn’t quite place his finger on it.

He called your name like someone does after being ignored for a while, maybe it was because of the way your fork had been circling against the empty plate or your lost gaze that’s being seeing right past him or even just because he has handed you the tablets of medicine as he refilled your glass with water.

You felt exhausted and scared that he might share the sentiment.

“Lo siento” you took the pills from him plopping it in your mouth and drowning it along with your words.

“Esta bien mi amor” his hand was now on your hair messing it up, he knew how much it annoyed you but he didn’t care because he also knew how much you tried to supress the fact that you actually enjoyed whenever he and Layla did it. “You don’t have to apologize”

“No, es que…” you inhaled sharp, looking up at him. His body was leaning on the table, his weight on both of his arms and the dangling star adorning his neck. “I messed up that night and-“

“I know what you meant, but you don’t have to worry about it” he crunched down, now he being the one looking up at you and you slouched feeling the back of his hand rubbing against your cheek “The bastard is gone, we made sure of that. And you’re okay”

“Wait you did?” You saw him nod content, there was that relief washing your features, not more furrowed eyebrows and worried eyes. “When?”

“no importa amor, lo que importa…” he got up helping you do the same, the feeling of your hands on his was something he couldn’t get enough of, the softness of them against his tainted skin sending a shock of tranquillity through his body “is that you lived to be annoyed by me for another day”

He saw the hesitance creeping back in your eyes and how this fixated in the way your thumb rubbed the back of his hand, tracing the scars that remained on them.

“Hey” his voice was soft, your foreheads pressed against each other and his nose softly brushing yours “Everything is okay”

“You promise?”

“I do” his grip on your hands became sturdier “And I’m no liar”

You left out a tired chuckle “Only when it benefits you”

“Hate the game not the player” the corner of his lips tugged up once more in that stupid grin you fell in love with. He came closer, his hands coming up to grab your head, you leaned into the touch, your hands wrapping around his wrists with a smile on your face.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how the saying goes” you rolled your eyes but you weren’t actually annoyed, he knew that and you knew that he did.

“I’m pretty sure it is” he closed the distance, pressing his lips against yours and your arms trailed slowly around his neck, the discomfort was there and yet it was eclipsed by the pure ecstasy of tasting him, of having his hands not caring of your damaged skin, grabbing it to keep you right there for him.

Your leg moved up and he helped you to place them around his waist, to have you pressed against him. You could feel your stomach beginning to swirl in anticipation, your shirt riling up when he carried you carefully through the messy apartment back to bed. That bed, that precious bed that held you still like a home you don’t seem to be able to leave, your place of rest for the past two days. Coming to the point of feeling chained to it but right now, in this moment felt more like a throne than a prison.

Where you normally found desire and desperation with torn fabric and sloppy kisses was only love and peace, the care that he felt being transmitted to you. He needed you to realize and understand how much they loved you, for you to understand that forgiveness wasn’t something they could grant you, because it was something only you could give yourself. They didn’t blame you for anything that happened and you needed to understand that, god he really hoped you understood it. It wasn’t your fault.

It was written in all his actions, in how his lips grazed over the purple, green and scabs in his way down, because he knew how it felt to be ashamed of having a wounded body – even if the damaged was caused by protecting someone – and he refused on giving you that option. His hands holding your legs in place while he ripped sweet sounds of pleasure right from your throat.

Those words he gave you just minutes ago replaying in your mind like a chant that would be cemented in your brain for the rest of your days. “I promise, everything is okay”

His lips pressed against yours, shaky breaths clashing against them as you felt his grip on your hips and the way his eyes roamed your face for a sign to stop. There wasn’t.

Everything is okay

His curls hanging on your face while he kept a steady pace, not to rough but not to slow. Just like you needed, he mumbling sweet nothings in Spanish right against your ear, the words falling almost in desperation for you to catch them and keep them near your heart.

Everything is okay.

Your hands intertwined together faces adorned by blissful smiles.

Everything is okay

~☽☾~

Your arm was extended In front of you, the back of his hand against your palm as you tried to analyse every aspect of it, laying on the couch was nice, after talking for a bit while scavenging through the flat and realizing you were all out of snack both of you decided to go buy the missing ingredients for cinnamon rolls, the grocery bags laid on the kitchen counter still packed as the two of you laid together on the couch with a blanket laying across your lap, your back leaned against his chest and his fingers playing with your hair with the occasional kiss being left on the crown of your head.

“How about I become a vigilante?” you jokingly said, the humorous tone made him tilt back his head before nudging it against yours.

“How about ya don’t?” he said only half joking, if you didn’t know him as well as you did you would’ve thought he was angry at you, but he wasn’t.

It was hard reading Lockley sometimes, to the untrained eye it would seem like his waking days where just a cruel joke he had to live through, that he was angry just for existing but in actuality he just had that kind of face, the one that keeps people at arm’s length even if he is nothing but polite, forcing him to just cherish the company of the few people who seemed to look past it. Enjoying his time with the ones he cares about, going out of his way to see Crawley every now and then, going to Gena’s dinner whenever he had the chance, texting with Layla every other month and spending all the time he could by your side.

“Come on! It would be fun, I could star sparing with-“ you took a deep breath before continuing “At least you have to admit I would look great, covered in battle scars” you let go of his hand and leaned to the side to look at him comfortably.

He shook his head.

“Me gustas asi” he left a kiss on your wounded shoulder, it was loud but didn’t leave traces of pain “no te cambiaría nada”

The feeling of him pressed against you was comforting, the warmth of his body making the pain tolerable and traces of guilt only an afterthought that you didn’t even focus on instead the migraine inducing reminder that it was. And yet your mind didn’t seem to feel like giving up, making that aching question that you’ve managed to push back for a while something more present and distracting.

“So…” you said elongating the ‘o’ “I know you’re not mad at me”

He hummed for you to continue, there was a small frown on his face as he paid close attention to your words.

“And I know neither is Steven” you tried your best to find the exact words to describe what you were feeling, thinking, aching to ask but it was hard, why was it so hard? You sighed “But I… ¿Qué hay de Marc?”

“¿Qué con él?” His fingers grazed through the side of your arm as a way to tell you ‘hey, it’s fine! You can do it’

“Is he mad at me?” you blurred out, finally spitting out the thought that made your stomach swirl, you glanced at him before looking down to your hands, resting on your lap “I mean, even Layla has called to check on me and-“ you sucked in a breath, his hand reaching out to tangle in between yours “I haven’t heard from him since it happened”

“No mi amor” he pulled you in closer to him, as close as he could without harming you in any way. “He’s ashamed”

He couldn’t stand the tint of guilt creeping back into your words or the way you seemed to become smaller, hunching away from his embrace, how the seemingly nice afternoon turned slowly in something more. You turned to look at him, scooping to the other side of the sofa away from his reach.

“He feels like… this is his fault” he confessed, his eyes looking briefly to your shoulder before coming back to meet your gaze and his hand reached to his temple “and he’s fuckin’ yellin’ all of the sudden”

You wanted to ask for him, to be able to hold Marc and reassure him that none of this was his fault, but you were hesitant, never demanding any of your boyfriends to front before. But the need was there and it was big, so scared of what his mind could be telling him, because for a moment it reminded you of the echoes of your own thoughts. You knew Marc, how he could get caught up into himself, so blinded by the bad thoughts that kept him in place. Sure you had bad days but you also saw how hard his ‘good days’ seemed to be, coming close to those where you weren’t able to leave the bed without some encouragement.

Yet Jake seemed to understand just what you needed without having to spell it out for him and in a split second he was gone, pulling marc to the front. You saw how his eyes grew larger with hesitance and the fear that coated them, how his eyebrows were furrowed and the way his lip trembled as he backed, pressing his back harder into the sofa, and a sudden rush of coldness passing through made you shiver. You reached for his arm but he flinched at the movement, the striking paint going from the tip of your fingers to the wound in the shoulder and tearing a whine out from the depths of your throat.

“Fuck” he said, his eyes frantically looking at you – trailing from your eyes to your chest, down your hands, hips and back to your eyes but not the shoulder, never the shoulder- as he couldn’t stop his body from shaking, It felt weird seeing him like this, frail and scared. Like those nights he would wake up drenched in sweat from a nightmare and would plea you to go back to sleep before going for a new glass of water. But right now it was a bit different, looking like a stray animal that tried to find shelter out of reach from reckless kid that tried to pet him.

Because of you

You saw him becoming stiffer in front of you, how his breath seemed to come to a pause as his hands tried to reach out for you even if his mind screamed to do the opposite, to keep you away where he couldn’t hurt you anymore. The thing about Spector is that he knew deep down, under all the love and longing that he had for you how much danger you were in just by knowing his name, by wrapping your arms around him as you slept together with his back against your chest, and by having a knight for company.

Because that’s what he was and with that came the responsibility of protecting you, even if you insisted and proved how capable you were on taking care of yourself, it was something he felt obligated to do, to keep you safe since that tumultuous night you stumbled into him. Since he fell in love with your soft words and careful touches as if you knew how much damage he has gone through and just how badly he longed for someone to soothe him back to sleep.

When his mind decided it would be great to bring back those faces of the people he had managed to cause pain along his path.

In a loud house a silent room is a blessing, tucking his heart under the bed where the noise doesn’t reach. It’s only a matter of time until he learned that a loud house is something out of the ordinary, something to fear and want to escape from.

Fuck the loud noises, the yelling and screaming. Fuck the shattered plates and thrown pots, the cracking belts and the stinging hands.

He just wanted the peace, security and quietness of a tranquil house, a noiseless home. Things that you handed to him with ease, as if it was something so common, something that didn’t come from obligation, because it was so normal and yet he couldn’t comprehend that something like that could ever be given to him, even if someone had already done it before.

And yet you did. You gave it away without whining or expecting anything in return from Marc because the spark in those brown eyes and the creases that formed around his mouth whenever he smiled was enough pay for you. Feeling the need to scream into the wind how much you loved Marc Spector, to let the world know that no matter what happened you would be by his side. No, to be by their side, because your love didn’t stop at one of them, it seemed like your heart was made in the perfect way to fit into theirs, like a puzzle piece that would be incomplete otherwise.

He tried his best to remember that, to know that everything was okay but he saw how much he had been a toll in other people’s lived and he dreaded the idea of becoming one in yours. He noticed how less frequently your mom called since you started to date him, how you made up excuses not to go back home since you started to live together and how your spark seemed to die down whenever someone pointed out your hometown, it was miniscule but it was there and it pained him.

“Marc” you called for him, he had no idea when both of you left their place on the sofa or when you took his hands in yours, your eyes trying to catch a glimpse of his, making his chest ache in the process, seeing the worry building up in your features.

He should be the one taking care of you, not the other way around.

His hands left yours as soon as he realized, blinking to fight back the tears that started to pile up in the corner of his eyes. This was too much, the air starting to feel heavy and the walls seemingly closer than normal and yet to far apart, no matter how much air filled his lungs it wasn’t enough and he just wanted to go.

“Hey” you took his hand slowly placing it on your chest, his eyes following along. He saw the way your chest moves steady and slow, he tried his best to mimic the rhythm closely but it was hard “breathe” you mouthed, noticing how hard it was for him to actually listen to your voice.

Run

You saw the way he shook his head creating more distance between the two of you, not bearing to touch you knowing what he had caused.

“I- I shouldn’t have…” he tried to speak up but the dryness of his throat made it almost impossible, his hands reached to his chest pushing down on it in hopes for ease the pain growing on it and maybe even being able to push out the words in the process “It’s my fault, I should’ve gone with you, I shouldn’t have left you alone”

He stumbled through his words, trying hard not to listen to what his mind was telling him and instead stay with you and talk things through, he wanted to scape, to go back inside so whoever wanted to take his place could but he pushed through it, feeling both Jake and Steven close to him as if reassuring him with those same words he kept repeating to himself this past days ‘everything is okay’.

You wanted to run and pull him into a hug, to keep him safe and snugged against yourself with your hearts beating near each other but didn’t know if that was the right thing to do.

“Marc” you breathed “It wasn’t your fault, I wanted to go alone”

You were crunched over still trying to even out your breath, it was hard almost impossible with the circle of people around you, leaving barely enough space for you to think.

Layla was too focused on calming down the brunette girl that seemingly could cry a river all by herself, the one that trembled under her friend’s touch as she dragged her hand along her back to ease her. You wished the world would go silent for a moment so you could hear what they were saying without having to move.

That’s when you saw him walking back, almost sprinting to your side after getting rid of the guy that punched you. He wanted to make him pay for what he had done but the thought of you heaving here all alone while Layla made sure the girls were okay was enough to drag him back with that need being unfulfilled.

He reached out to you, helping you to get back on your two feet and getting a whine out of you.

“Are you-“

“Okay?” you cut him out nodding, the pain was there but nothing you couldn’t breathe through “Yes, don’t- yes bebé”

“Hey so…” Layla leaned on Marc’s shoulder once she was back “the girl’s came alone, apparently her birthday? Also exchange students” she sighed “They have no one who can pick them up or take them home”

“I- We can take them” you heaved through, still trying to recollect your breath.

“No” she shook her head and placed a hand on your shoulder “You need to rest, I’ll go with them, make sure they are safe”

You looked at them understanding that there was no way of changing that.

“I guess” you sucked in a breath and closed one of your eyes in a pained expression “But let me walk you to the bus stop, I need some fresh air”

Her eyes drifted away from you as she thought about it for a while, desperately wanting to say no but once she looked back at you, she understood exactly what you were thinking of.

“I guess” she finally said.

“I’ll go with you” he voiced out, his eyes left Layla’s to look back at you, he knew just how stubborn both of you were but hoped he could convince you somehow.

You shook your head chuckling and patted his chest “It’s not far, I’ll see you at the car”

You needed this, to be alone for a second. To know that you could be one minute without being scared, to know that this wouldn’t become something you’ll be afraid of next time you wanted to go out.

“I should’ve insisted” he wanted to step back but for some reason his legs weren’t responding to his commands, hot tears beginning to stream down his face.

You moved slowly towards him, afraid of making a wrong move that would scare him away. One hand resting on his chest while the other reached to wipe away his tears and slowly guiding him to look at you.

“Oh bebé…” it was soft and short but full of memories.

“No” he shook his head placing his jacket on ready to go down street with you “I’m going”

“Marc, please…” you weren’t asking anymore, you were begging to him and he noticed it “I need this”

He was afraid of the funny feeling in his gut telling him to not let you win, to push back and go with you even if you would be all moody in your way back home but the pleading eyes were too much, the sound of your desperate voice asking for his trust.

He sighed

“It’s my fault” he said once more and you couldn’t tell if those words were directed to you or to himself. His voice felt tinted by the bitter ring of Wendy’s and Jake grew angry at them while Steven felt pure sorrow.

“It’s not your fault” pushing through the pain your hands guided his head to press his forehead against yours “everything is okay”

It wasn’t much of a reminder this time, it was a promise.

It took a while to get him out of that heavy mind-set, his breathing becoming less frantic when he finally started to listen, to actually understand what the words that you gave him meant. He tried hard not to flinch away when your fingers reached for his, keeping the little hiccups at bay when your hand ran through his back, his eyes were red and puffy from all the crying, and he told you how his nose felt stuffy when you passed him a napkin. You tried to cheer him up, cleaning away the mess from his face while he apologized for ‘everything’, you didn’t exactly know what everything meant for him though and you wished to believe he only meant to apologize for forgetting how none of this was caused by him, for forgetting that his arms where the place that made you feel like you were truly home. Of course you reminded him with a simple ‘it’s fine’.

“How about we make the cinnamon rolls?” his eyes remained closed and his head leaned against your touch when you brushed his dark curls away from his face, enjoying the view of his now relaxed expression.

You always found it funny how your lovers shared the same face and yet they had their unique way of making it ‘theirs’, how they managed to look so different.

“Yeah, I’d like that” he replied nodding slightly, he felt you pulling your hand away and held it in place to leave a small kiss before any contact between the two of you was lost.

“Just… remember to double check” you laughed seeing him rolling his eyes, he pushed softly your hip with his fist before leaning to take out the bowl you always used while baking.

It was nice, knowing he wasn’t scared of being around you as he was a couple of hours ago.

“I swear the salt and sugar look the same!” he wrapped his arms around you.

Careful

He reminded himself once more, this time it wasn’t directed to Jake while patching you up or to Steven while dressing you down but to silence all the other nasty thoughts that threatened to ruin once more his time with you. He wouldn’t let them win, not this time at least.

He couldn’t let them because he wanted this, to spend his time away next to you, craving desperately to hear that laugh that melted his heart away and forget once and for all that anything bad could happened or that occurred in the first place. Nothing would keep that pleasure away from Marc, not even himself.

By the time you were done there were splotches of flours on your clothes and face, not even the kitchen counter and floors were speared of the mess. Marc’s proud smile when he passed you the sugar instead of the salt container was picture worthy and you tried multiple times to sneak a taste from the uncooked batter just for him to smack your hand away making you giggle.

He took a little bit of glazing with his fingers for you to taste, it was delicious.

You were laying on the floor, the cool hardwood floor contrasting with the heat coming from the oven, it was nice, the mix of the cool temperature on your back with the slight warm on the air, there weren’t a lot of things left to say emerging yourself in the comfortable silence, it only being disrupted by the ticking clock on top of the counter that counted down the seconds until the rolls were finally done. After a little while of lying next to Marc he finally spoke up, a little ”hey” rushing from him.

You turned to look at him, his eyes set on the ceiling and a smile slowly making itself present on his face, shining like stars in the night sky.

“Have I ever told you, what I thought when I first saw you?” it came with traces of laughter, the embarrassment of reminding that night mixed with pure disbelief.

You shook your head “No”

“I just- I just wanted to kiss you” the lights were dim making it hard to see, but you knew his face would be glowing in a lovely shade of crimson as he moved his hand covering his eyes “I couldn’t believe someone like you would walk up to that mess and call me amor”

It was late at night in the pub near his old apartment, the one he used to share with Layla, he couldn’t be further from home but he didn’t mind it – Steven’s flat never really felt like home to him anyways – as he could use some time walking alone with his thoughts, it wasn’t that late into the night but he was already as drunk as he could be and it was time to get going, he just needed to remember where his keys were.

It would also be really helpful to be able to stand up without gobbling and plastering his face on the floor. His head rested in between his hands leaning on the bar with a glass of whiskey he didn’t remember ordering next to him.

The pressure from a hand on his back made the man turn faster than you expected, not even his fuzzy senses could manage to slow down his reaction when he felt your lips pressed against his cheek. And then he heard it, your voice ringing in his ears and bringing him an unexpected sense of peace, one that he hadn’t realize would be possible since it left packed inside his ex-wife’s suitcase, fuck! Why was he thinking of her? That was the solely reason he had even gone out tonight.

To forget

“Sorry… do I know you?” his Chicago accent was stronger when he drank and in the mornings, but it’s not like the person in front of him would know that.

The hand left its place on his back as if the mere contact burned harder than fire and he couldn’t explain why he wanted to ask for it back, was he that desperate? That touch starved that he would feel the need to ask a stranger not to back away? To just keep you close to him and your touch on his aching body.

“Steven?” when the name fell from your lips it all made sense and he couldn’t help but feel worse for longing the touch from someone that wasn’t his to long for. He couldn’t be selfish and keep love away from his alters just because it was kept from him.

Fuck, his eyes focused on your lips feeling himself slipping away, his gut stirring at the urge to beg Steven to give him just five more minutes with you and maybe get to know each other.

This definitely would be a night impossible to forget.

The little bell from the oven rang and you turned with excitement, Marc got up and helped you so your eagerness for a sweet treat wouldn’t hurt you in the process, it was still a while for you to actually eat them and you knew that but fuck were you excited for it.

“I wanted to ask you” he was slicing the still hit rolls for you to finally have that sweet you were craving, after all your impatiens was notable when it came to stuff like this “about your má”

“Yeah?” your eyes jumped from the plate in front of you to him, going to the fridge and taking something to drink for both

“Did something happen?” he sat on the opposite side of the table, hand playing with his wristwatch.

“No, why are you asking?” you moved your plate to sit next to him, your hand reaching for his and your head resting on his shoulder.

“I’ve noticed she hasn’t called” he reached for the box of meds that made its home on the table, handing you some water along with them.

“Oh yeah, she’s just busy” you smiled and plopped them in your mouth “Starting a business is hard”

“What?” he tried hard not to sound as confused as he was but failed miserable “I thought- when did that happen?”

“Well… she’s always talked about it and, after a while of pushing I finally managed to convince her to open her own restaurant” you sighed and shrugged “told her I could go down there to help out for a while but she told me not to worry. I know she is busy and all but sometimes I just… it wouldn’t even make sense for me to visit her right now if I’m not going to help, you know? Don’t want to be a-“

You fell in silence, not knowing how to put what you were feeling into word.

“Burden?” he heard you hum and shook his head “You’re not. I really thought you fought or something” he was relieved to be in the wrong.

“Why would we?” he shrugged “well we didn’t so stop worrying about it”

“Is that why you haven’t gone?” he saw the way you rolled your shoulders, the pain no longer there.

“A part of it, yeah. But maybe we could go together next time? I would love for you to meet her”

You’ve talked with her about your boyfriends, it took her a while to understand what it all meant but once she couldn’t help but be glad her ‘little baby’ was loved by someone so strong and capable, sometimes she would say hi to them when you were on facetime.

“I would like that too”

You kissed his shoulder and then his neck, trailing up to kiss his lips, his hand cupping your face

And in that moment there weren’t big descriptions to be made.

Only silence and kisses with taste of cinnamon rolls.

me adding the translations? wow that's something new

¿Te lo dije, o no? - I told you so, didn't I?

¡Respira maldita sea! - breathe god dammit!

Steven, si no te callas juro que-“ - Steven if you don't shut up I swear-

Mi amor - My love

¡Mierda Lockley! - shit Lockley!

y no quiero dejarte - and I don't want to leave you

Jake, ya… porfa - Jake, come one… please

Mierda - shit

Puta madre - fucking hell

quiero ver tu carita hermosa - I want to see your pretty face

Buenos días dormilona - Good morning sleepyhead

roncas horrible - you snore horribly

Mira quién habla - look who's talking

Lo siento - I'm sorry

Esta bien mi amor - it's alright my love

No, es que… - no, it's just…

no importa amor, lo que importa… - doesn't matter love, what matters…

Me gustas asi - I like you like this

no te cambiaría nada - wouldn't change a thing

¿Qué hay de Marc? - what about Marc?

¿Qué con él? - What about him?

No mi amor - no my love

bebé - baby

má - (short for mom)

#jake lockley #marvel #moon knight #steven grant #moon knight system #marc spector #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x y/n #jake lockely x you #i'll die for soft jake #steven grant x you #marc spector x you #marc spector x reader #marc spector fanfic #jake lockley fanfiction #steven grant fanfiction #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending

[sequencefairy]

You want a guy like Spector when you’re going in blind, he’s good in close quarters, fearless in the way that usually means he’s got nothing to lose, but there isn’t that streak of recklessness that usually accompanies it. He’s careful and he’s competent, he’s ruthless when he has to be, but he’s good to bum a smoke off if you need one. He’s not the kind of guy that raises his voice, so if he ever yells you know shit’s gone absolutely FUBAR. He’ll get you out, even if you’re sure you won’t make it.

Marc Spector: Marine. Mercenary. Moon Knight.

Rating: M, Chapter 1/6, 11k words

Relationships: Layla El-Faouly/Marc Spector; Steven Grant & Marc Spector; Jake Lockley & Marc Spector; Jean-Paul DuChamp & Marc Spector

Characters: Steven Grant (Marvel); Jake Lockley; Jean-Paul DuChamp; Raul Bushman; Khonshu (Moon Knight); Wendy Spector; Elias Spector; Abdallah El-Faouly

Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence; Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence; Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD; Implied/Referenced Child Abuse; Implied/Referenced Self-Harm; Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt; The nomadic life of a globe-trotting mercenary; so much of Marc's life is so fucking miserable so I also tried to give him some nice days; Dissociative Identity Disorder; (Marvel's Version); The Jake Is My Oyster; Canon-Typical Character Death; (He gets better as we all well know)

#moon knight #moon knight fanfiction #sequence fairy's fic #welcome to marc's very bad no good horrible life everyone

[romanarose]

Cleaning out my Closet (Passover)

Marc Spector

Summary: Years ahead of the events of Moon Knight, Marc Spector is happy. He's happily married, has three children he adores, has a good relationship with his dad, Steven, Jake, Layla, and his brother-in-law. Still, none of it erases what happened to him, and in entering his childhood home again, he must grapple with feelings he still has. As he packs up his childhood home, he unpacks his past.

A/N: This fic serves as a epilogue to Seattle (linking to the AO3 bc tumblr messed up my links, and everything on my masterlist is under construction. If you like it, please consider leaving a kudos!) but is specifically written to stand alone. Seattle has an OC, Rebecca, not a reader, however, this fic is meant to serve as a one shot, but id dint want to do reader, the OC is just referred to as her/she, but I capitalized the pronounce to differentiate for simplicities sake.

HOPE YOU ENJOY!!! Pesach Sameach!!!!!

Warnings: References to child abuse and death of a child (the usual stuff for Randall's death and Marc's abuse), mentions of ableism on Wendy's part talking about Marc being autistic (vague). I think that's it? This is Jewish as fuck. Seattle has had episodes with Rosh Hashanah, Purim, and Hannukah so I thought it was fitting to write for Passover too. Maybe we'll have something for Yom Kippur, who knows. Any antisemitism will simply be blocked.

************************

I'm sorry, Mama I never meant to hurt you I never meant to make you cry But tonight I'm cleanin' out my closet

Marc Specter hung in the doorway of his childhood bedroom, taking deep breaths as he worked up the courage to enter. She had offered to come with him, but Marc told her he needed to do this himself. Together, with the kids, Marc and Her had come to the home he grew up in to help his dad move. In recent years, Marc had come back into contact with Elias, frequent phone calls and occasional visits, although usually with Elias visiting him and his little family, as traveling with kids is a struggle. There was, also, the fact Marc didn't really enjoy coming to Chicago. He had been, here and there, but She went more than him to visit Her brother who had moved back to the city.

Things had been much better, great, even. Marc was married and in love with his childhood best friend. Her brother, Asa, and him had reconnected again, becoming once more the little brother that Marc always thought of him as, and a name on the list of several close friends he had; a life he never expected for himself. Him, Steven and Jake were as close as brothers and fought alongside Matty, Peter, and Frank, keeping New York safe on a small scale the avengers couldn’t be bothered with. Marc had forgiven his dad, and had a life now where he could really call himself happy.

Going to Chicago again, however, was still a struggle. He hadn’t been in this house for years now, and hadn’t really planned to ever again, but he had a duty as a son to help his dad. Elias had mentioned hiring movers when it was decided that he needed to downsize after a minor fall attempting to get upstairs. Her and Marc decided this was an undertaking they couldn’t just leave him to, and made the 800 mile car trip with two five year olds and a baby in the car to help move. Entering the place him and Randel grew up in, a place that once was happy and loving, and turned into his own personal hell… it was difficult, but he did it. 

It was soon to be passover weekend, they had driven a few days before and planned to get some packing done before celebrations, and they got a good chunk of the first floor packed up, Marc not daring to enter upstairs, not yet. Frequently, he had to take breathers. Sometimes he’d go for a walk alone, sometimes She would come outside to talk or sit with him, or Steven or Jake might take over for a while. Marc’s son, AJ, always seemed to have a sense for when his dad needed him. Marc hated the idea that he couldn’t always be strong for his kids, he never wanted them to feel like his emotions were their responsibility, but She said it just meant AJ was empathetic, which was a good thing.

Marc kept working as She and Elias got going on the Passover Seder, but Marc was too in his thoughts, damn near obsessive as he packed things, almost a cleanse of sorts. A set of fancy wine glasses, one missing that Wendy threw at him and shattered; pack it away, it's over, it’s done. Pictures of their family before Randell’s death; pack it away, it’s over, it’s done. The knife set Marc was washing as his mom screamed at him, wondering if he used them for self defense, if he’d go away to prison forever… pack it away, it’s over, it’s done. Piece by piece, Marc sorted through parts of his life he had always thought better left alone. Marc tried not to react heavily around his dad; they made amends and he loved Elias, he didn’t want to hurt him more, not again… She, his dad, Steven and Jake seemed to recognize this fact, and allowed him the space he needed to get through this daunting task, taking care of the heavy lifting while Marc went through the smaller things, sometimes sitting in silence for several minutes just staring at an item or two.

That’s how he ended up here. He had to get to his bedroom at some point, it may as well be now. Him and Randell shared a bedroom growing up, so when he drowned, his stuff had been packed away. That would be a task to go through for another day, for now, Marc was just focusing on not throwing up. Everything looked the same as the day he left, no doubt the room had been shut away after he ran away, Wendy attempting to pretend he had never existed most days. She had her moments, moments she was a good mom... Even in before she always favored Randell, but how could you not? He was an easy kid. Randell didn’t melt down when is clothing was a bad texture or things were too loud, Randell didn’t refuse to eat for days until something was made he could stand to taste, Randell didn’t need to stim or fidget, Randell acted exactly as Elias and Wendy expected for a child, eye contact and hugs and normal ways of playing… Marc wasn’t that. 

But none of that is to say things were bad in the first 8 years, things were good, actually. Elias was a patient man and Wendy tried her best, she showered Marc in affection and praise… but that almost made it worse, didn’t it? Marc often wondered how his psyche would have been if he hadn’t been given a happy family at the start, if he didn’t know a mothers love, if he didn’t have to wonder which version of his mom he’d come home to after school. Marc learned early on that love was conditional, and that had very much played into his relationship with Her. He struggled to believe She could love him in all his flaws when his own mother couldn't? But that wasn't entirely fair… Wendy had moments, she tried. A few days in a row she might sober up and there would be a bit of hope, no matter how much Marc had been played, for years when she’d suddenly act nice, taking him to the zoo or to a movie… he’d always think ‘maybe this is it, maybe she’s changed…’ but she never did, and a few days later he’d be trying to sooth lash marks from a belt.

Looking around, Marc saw a room that was so incredible… normal. There was a Star Wars poster with a very sexy princess leia in a dress she absolutely did not wear in A New Hope and very muscular Luke Skywalker despite the fact Marc knew damn well Mark Hamil did not have a 6 pack in that movie. There was a Cubs poster and a signed bat hanging on the wall (the bat was Randell from a game they went to for his birthday.). Finally taking a step in, Marc slowly wandered around the place he spent most of his time in the house, hoping to stay out of her way.

Wendy violated the sanctuary of his room, however, so this was far from a safe place. It was here that Steven first appeared, necessary to his survival, during a particularly vicious attack, Steven protecting him like his father never could.

There was a thin layer of dust on the surfaces, but light enough to know that Elias apparently learned in there, took care of it. Looking over to his book of baseball cards, he saw clearly it had been touched recently. How often, over the last 20 years, had Elias come in here and reminisced? Marc knew he had regrets, he knew Elias wished he had done something… but there's no use thinking on that now. Still, the idea of his dad missing him so much he’d come to his room just to feel a semblance of him was comforting.

Packing all this would have to wait for another day, it was taking a heavy toll just being here, refamiliarizing himself with his room again. He wanted to be able to celebrate Passover properly, She loves this holiday, and he wanted to pass on the importance of it to their children. It wasn’t lost on him, the irony of serving under an egyptian god, but a deal had been made; no killing. He did things the way Matty did, and felt damn good about it; the bad people were punished and his conscience rested clean. What Jake did… that was his own business.

Marc wandered over to his closet, looking over the clothing he left behind years ago, clothes that wouldn’t fit anymore but would be in good donating condition. On the shelf on top, Marc grabbed a poster and unrolled it. ‘When danger is near, Steven Grant has no fear’ the poster read, and Marc smiled, just a bit. All the bad that happened, he always had Steven, and Jake, although he didn’t know it at the time. Kneeling down, Marc began to look through the boxes on the floor, old toys he grew out of, many of which he played with Randell; the wooden train set, his lite bright, long dead tamagotchi, and the Mouse Trap that was never touched after Randell died.

It wasn’t fair, really, it wasn’t. He didn’t care how long it had been, how his mom had been dead for years now, he was angry. Not the all consuming anger he used to feel, not to ever present over-boiling rage, but the anger that was usually at a simmer, a low simmer, that only came out when prompted… He was good at keeping it at bay, he refused to raise his kids like that. The twins had seen him vulnerable, to be sure, and he tried to remind himself mistakes happened, but if he ever thought for a moment that they feared him, he wouldn’t know how to react, and it would take everything in him not to run away.

As he kept sorting through his old things, thinking about just having a huge bonfire and burning it all, when he heard footsteps in the hallway.

She stopped at the doorway. “Hi, sweetheart, can I come in?” 

Marc’s sweater was on the floor, he had clearly been crying a bit and it had been… fuck, had it been an hour? “Yeah”

Slow, She walked over to him, sitting on the floor where he was “Do you want to talk about anything in here?”

Marc shook his head. “No. I think this room is gonna be hard to pack up.”

Nodding, She pulled Marc into a side hug. “It’s okay, we can take it slow.” She patted his head softly. “Layla’s here, Asa said he’ll be here in ten”

Pulling himself off her, he wiped his eyes. “Right, sorry, I’ll get it together”

“No, no” She assured him. “I was just telling you, there's no hurry, baby.”

“Where are the kids?” Marc said with a soft sniffle.

“Layla’s in the backyard with AJ and Ester, Rachel fell asleep in your dads arms, it’s pretty sweet.”

Marc nodded, taking a breather for asking. “Is the food ready?” 

Bursting into a laugh, She leaned into Marc who smiled and wrapped an arm around her. “Would some food and wine make you feel better, sweetheart?”

“Yeah” Marc chuckled. “Yeah I think that would cure me.”

She kissed his forehead. “Remember the story behind Pesach, my love. It’s about hope, faith, community…”

“I know” Marc sighed. “I didn’t have a lot of hope growing up… but I do now” For a long time, his faith in Her was what kept him going, but in recent years he found his faith in God again. Growing up and for years after, Marc regarded Passover with disdain. A holiday that commemorates the Passing over of Jewish first born sons struck him with anger. He was saved from the floods in the cave, but he would have traded all that in a moment to have Randell alive. Randell wouldn’t have been beaten for Marc’s death… Marc shook his head. It was done, there was no going back. 

Gently, She touched his back. “I’ll be downstairs, honey. We’ll all sit down when you’re ready. Oh, and Elias found that book he wanted to give Steven, make sure he doesn’t forget it, or the cookbook for Jake.” She stood up to go.

“Honey?” He asked, staring into the closet still.

“When we get back to New York… I think I’d like to go to a Mikvah bath.”

She paused at that. “Really? You know you… you have to be-”

“Fully submerged, yeah, I know. I want to.”

“Are you… are you doing alright, Marc?”

He nodded. “I’ll be okay. Just… after all this is over, I want to be… cleansed. I’m packing this all away, and when it’s done… I want it washed out”

Smiling softly, She nodded. “That sounds like a good idea, sweetie pie.” She bent down and kissed his forehead. “You are doing so good, you are so strong, and I am so proud of you.”

Marc smiled up at the love of his life. “Thank you, baby. I’ll be down in a minute.”

With loving eyes, She smiled back at him before heading down stairs, and Marc heard the sound of her greeting her brother at the door.

Staring into the abyss of his closet, a place he used to hide in that was now piled high with boxes of broken memories, he spoke to someone he didn’t know could hear him or not.

“It didn’t work, ma. You didn’t win. I know you wanted me to hurt, to hurt the way you were…” His voice wavered. “But I already was! I was a kid! A kid whose brother died and I was left to deal with it alone! You left!” Marc took a steadying breath, composing himself. “And for a long time, it worked, you made me as angry and miserable as you were, I let myself become what you always said I was. Angry, jealous, a killer.” Marc shook his head, closing his eyes. Could she hear him? Wherever she was, would she know? He wasn’t sure. Not a lot of emphasis on the afterlife in Judaism, and the whole run-in with Taweret complicated matters on what Marc believed happened, but that wasn’t really the point. 

“I got out, I got better. I’m married and got three beautiful, perfect kids. Esther looks a lot like you, if I’m being honest.” He sighed a quick laugh to himself. “You’d love her, she’s incredibly bright, always dragging AJ around everywhere, always getting into things… AJ is her anchor though, always making sure she doesn’t get hurt, he’s always thinking of others… Takes after his mom like that. AJ's real name is Asa, I don't know if you know that or not. I don't know what you know, honestly. We named him after his uncle, Her brother. Esther is probably obvious, She always loved Purim, t was her favorite holiday, the first one we celebrated together once She and I were reunited...Rachel’s just a baby right now, but she’s got her mom’s hair, looking like she got my height right now” A genuine smile appeared on Marc’s face as he talked about his family, relaxing. "She's named after Randell. Maybe it's a bit of a stretch, Rachel, Randell, but it sounds similar, and She and I planned to stop at three kids... we might still have another, I don't know, but I wanted to name one of them after Randell, but I just... I wasn't ready when the twins were born." A loud, deep sigh.

"I guess I don’t know what you wanted for my life. You tried, sometimes, even if it wasn’t a lot, even if it wasn’t for long, you tried… but it wasn’t fair to me, it wasn’t fair to dad, and it wasn’t fair to you, holding on to all that anger… I hope…” Marc’s body shook with anxiety as he desperately tried to speak his piece. “I hope you found some kind of peace in the end, mom. I do. I hope you found peace wherever you are now. Because I did. I’m happy, I have friends, I have a family, I have a life I’m proud of… I hope we were that for you, in the beginning… there were good years, weren’t there? Yeah. There were. The Four of us, a happy family… Then everything changed in an instant…” He shook his head. “What’s done is done, I’ve moved on. It still hurts, and I think it will always hurt, but I’ve moved on. Shalom, ma, Baruch Dayan Ha’emet”

Marc Spector stood in the stairwell of his childhood home. Decades ago, this is where his mom first screamed at him, but now, things were so, so different.  Layla was putting Rachel in her high chair, Asa was getting Esther down from precarious surface she had climbed up on, AJ helped Her and Elias set up the table… Things were so different now, so, so much better. He was cleansed, he was happy, he was hopeful...

Free.

I guess we are who we are Headlights shining in the dark night I drive on Maybe we took this too far

I want a new life, one without a cause So I'm coming home tonight, well, no matter what the cost And if the plane goes down, or if the crew can't wake me up Well, just know that I'm alright, I was not afraid to die Oh, even if there's songs to sing, well my children will carry me Just know that I'm alright, I was not afraid to die Because I put my faith in my little Girls, so I never say goodbye cruel world Just know that I'm alright, I am not afraid to die

************************

Thank you for reading!!!! I love any content that highlights that the boys are Jewish so if you got anything like that for passover send it my way!!

Wish me luck bc I got a paper due tonight I havn't started and I still got serivices tonight lol

Anyway Im excited this is my first passover and my temple is having a community seder so im super excited!!!!

For those who aren't familiar with eminem lore, (im so sorry but i love his music) the title and first lyric in this fic are from his song, cleaning out my closet, which is a very angry song about Eminem's moms abuse. It was so bad she actually tried to sue him over it. The second set of lyrics comes from an album about 11 years later, a reflection of their relationship after Eminem got sober. It a great song detailing the complexities of a relationship with an abusive parent who you still love. I like it because it doesnt make excuses, but understands the external factors that lead to how he was treated.

None of this fic is meant to tell anyone how to fell about thier abusive parent, it's simply how I think marc might feel years on when he is in a better place, and somewhat my feelings too.

@welcometostayingawake @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @ninebluehearts @sofi786 @myfandomlikesandstories @tippycakes26 @ahookedheroespureheart @arsonfrogger @milkymoon2483 @0bsessedwithfictionalcharacters @miraclesabound

#Marc spector #marc spector fanfiction #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight #marc spector angst #marc spector hurt comfort #marc spector moon knight #moon knight hurt comfort #moon knight angst

[ao3feed-moonknight]

The Glow of Morning Comes With Small Arms Fire

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53368654

by sequence_fairy

You want a guy like Spector when you’re going in blind, he’s good in close quarters, fearless in the way that usually means he’s got nothing to lose, but there isn’t that streak of recklessness that usually accompanies it. He’s careful and he’s competent, he’s ruthless when he has to be, but he’s good to bum a smoke off if you need one. He’s not the kind of guy that raises his voice, so if he ever yells you know shit’s gone absolutely FUBAR.

He’ll get you out, even if you’re sure you won’t make it.

Marc Spector: Marine. Mercenary. Moon Knight.

Words: 11029, Chapters: 1/6, Language: English

Fandoms: Moon Knight (TV 2022) , Moon Knight (Comics) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Characters: Steven Grant (Marvel) , Jake Lockley , Jean-Paul DuChamp , Raul Bushman , Khonshu (Moon Knight) , Wendy Spector , Elias Spector , Abdallah El-Faouly Relationships: Layla El-Faouly/Marc Spector , Steven Grant & Marc Spector , Jake Lockley & Marc Spector , Jean-Paul DuChamp & Marc Spector Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence , Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence , Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD , Implied/Referenced Child Abuse , Implied/Referenced Self-Harm , Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt , The nomadic life of a globe-trotting mercenary , so much of Marc's life is so fucking miserable so I also tried to give him some nice days , Dissociative Identity Disorder , (Marvel's Version) , The Jake Is My Oyster , Canon-Typical Character Death , (He gets better as we all well know)

#ao3feed #fanfic #moon knight #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fic #mcu

[daredevile]

that was so not the laters gators i asked for

#what a fucking heart wrenching episode #i genuinely forgot marc and steven are played by the same actor #GIVE MY MAN OSCAR ISAAC ALL THE FUCKING AWARDS #also fuck you wendy #moon knight #moon knight spoilers #marc spector #steven grant #text #arya.txt

[iamcalmdammit]

Like father, like daughter || [Marc Spector x reader]

summary: Marc finds out that he has a daughter and he doesn't hesitate to ask you to let him be a part of her life.

note: This is technically "Of dreams and nightmares" part 4 BUT it can be read as a one-shot. / part 1, part 2, part 3

words: 2.4k

Lucy looks just like you.

This is how it started, with this short, innocent sentence. Your mother had unknowingly planted a seed with these five words during Wendy Spector’s shiva, and now, four months later, you watched as this overgrown monster was eating Marc up from the inside. He was standing in front of you again, this time demanding answers to what this sentence was supposed to mean.

During the past five years, you had managed to hide your daughter from him. No personal meetings, not even photos online. It was an evil thing to do, but your relationship had been based on sex alone since he left. Sure, you talked every now and then, but it wasn’t the same type of love that you used to have. How could a child fit into that? And Marc was at a bad state of mind at the time you found out you were pregnant so you couldn’t shock him with the news he would become a father soon.

“It’s nothing,” you told him with a poker face. “She just misses you—this is why she’s projecting.”

But Marc wasn’t stupid. “Y/N, come on, why did she say your daughter looks like me?” he asked.

“Just drop it, okay? It doesn’t concern you.”

“Don’t do this, I know you, I know you’re hiding something important from me.”

By now it was crystal clear he knew the truth deep inside, he just needed you to verify his theory.

It was strange. You felt bad for lying to him through all those years, while also feeling angry that you were cornered and forced to tell him the truth. But maybe it wasn’t even anger. It must have been fear. Fear of the unknown that was waiting for you once he found out he was a father. 

Based on what he’d been telling you, he was some sort of a mercenary since being discharged. How could he fit a family into that life? It was dangerous and came with a lot of unexpected traveling. Children needed stability, parents who were there by their side.

“Remember when you visited my after you were discharged from the military? When you got all weirdly dominant and were hell-bent on fucking the hell out of me?” you asked him to which he replied with a nod. “Well, you were too mad to think, I was too worried about you to think, and so we forgot about protection. Turns out birth control pills are not fail-safe.”

“You’re telling me I have a daughter?” he asked cautiously with a look on his face that you couldn’t quite decipher.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m telling you. But don’t worry, I don’t expect you to—”

“I have a daughter and you never, not once thought I have the right to find out?” he said angrily, taking an almost threatening step towards you. “I had nothing left after I was discharged. My life was in ruins. Finding out I was going to be a father would have given me a purpose. I could’ve been the kind of father I never had.”

Oh, shit. You fucked up. You fucked up big time. “I didn’t think you would be interested,” you admitted quietly, avoiding his gaze.

“Y/N, I loved you! I never stopped loving you. Having a family with you is something I wanted since we were in high school.”

He was desperate and you saw tears running down his cheeks as he spoke. The sight was breaking your heart. Marc was telling the truth, he really wanted to be a normal family man. With your stupid and selfish decision you had taken five years away from them, five long years they could've spent bonding. Gulping loudly, you looked down at your hands. There was no way you could look him in the eye now.

Then Marc told you to stay here while he went out for a walk because after hearing this, he needed some air, he needed to be away from you. You couldn’t blame him. He just found out he had a daughter, that you had been lying to him for years even though you met every now and then. How in the hell could you think hiding it was a good idea? Your parents were right, you were an idiot.

“Who knows that I’m her father?” Marc asked when he returned about half an hour later.

“Only my parents.”

“What did you tell her about me?”

“That you have to work and travel a lot. I didn’t even tell her your name.”

He took a deep breath and bit the inside of his cheek. Whatever he was thinking about, it made him emotional in a way, he was definitely trying to calm himself down. “And her name is obviously not Spector,” he said with a sad look in his eyes.

You nodded. “No, it’s not.”

“Can we change that?”

Changing your daughter’s name? If she was one, maybe two, it wouldn’t be such a big issue, but she was five. Wasn’t it late for that? “I don’t know, I don’t want to confuse her,” you admitted.

But Marc didn’t give up. He didn’t want to let it go and apparently he was willing to compromise to get what he wanted. “What about using it as a second surname? She can learn it, I’m sure about that.”

“So you want to be a part of her life?” you asked, ignoring his suggestion for now.

“If you let me, yes,” he replied with a nod. “Can I finally meet her today? I’d really appreciate it.”

Today? Wow, he wasn’t wasting his time. Lucy had gone to the Shedd Aquarium with her friend and her mom in the morning, and something told you it was enough excitement for one day, but you agreed nonetheless. You kept them apart for long enough, there was no need to keep them waiting even one day more.

Marc wanted to know what to buy for Lucy because—thanks to you—he knew absolutely nothing about her or kids that age for that matter. So you told him to go with a stuffed toy, preferably something pink and cute. Knowing your daughter, the shiny new toy would become an instant favorite with a reserved spot on her bed.

About two hours later she was brought home, so you sent a text to Marc to let him know it was time. He knew the choreography. You ask Lucy if she wants to meet him, and if she says yes, you go to the front door to let him in. It was all up to her now.

“Hello, honey. How was the aquarium?” you asked as you kneeled in front of her and helped her out of her jacket.

“It’s was so good!” she replied with a beaming smile. “Can we go back next week? Please.”

“We’ll see. I have a surprise for you. There’s someone who would really like to meet you.”

“Who?”

“Remember when I told you your dad has to work a lot? Well, he’s here, and he would like to see you. Do you wanna meet him?” Lucy nodded without hesitation, jumping up and down excitedly.  “Okay then. Go to the living room, we’ll be right there.”

Seeing the excitement in her eyes made you wonder how those five missing years would affect her on the long run. Was it a wound that would never heal, even if her father was around from this point on? But you cleared your throat and stood up when she left, trying to push your fears to the back of your mind.

Marc was waiting patiently at the front door, holding something behind his back as he stood there. He looked unusually nervous, although that was understandable in this situation. You told him to follow you and you made your way to the living room where Lucy was waiting for you. Your gaze shifted back and forth between the two of them as you couldn’t decide who was more vulnerable in this situation.

“Marc, she’s Lucy,” you said eventually. “Lucy, meet Marc, your dad.”

“Hi,” she said timidly. That was probably the first time that you saw your daughter act like this. She was usually a little know-it-all with a big mouth, but now she was speechless.

“Hi, sweetie. So you went to the aquarium today?” Marc asked with a warm smile as he crouched down in front of her. When Lucy nodded, he went on. “Did you see some nice fish?”

“I did. But I liked the sea otters a lot more,” she replied.

“They’re cute, aren’t they? Oh, this is for you,” Marc said as he gave her the present he’d been hiding behind his back.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “A pink elephant?”

“What? You said pink and cute.”

“I love it!” Lucy squealed as she hugged the stuffed animal.

“Um, what do we say?” you asked with knitted eyebrows.

“Thank you.”

Marc patted her head with a smile. “You’re welcome.”

“I think you can handle it from here,” you told Marc quietly with a reassuring smile before leaving them alone in the living room.

You wanted to see how it went, but you didn’t want Marc to hold back in your presence. And who knew, maybe you not being there with them would help Lucy loosen up a bit. When you sat down on your bed, you pulled out your phone from your pocket and called your mom to tell her about what was happening in your home. She was mortified when you told her it was her comment that made him suspicious, but you quickly assured her that it was okay, that maybe it was for the best.

Time flew by and you fell asleep while waiting. It was an emotionally tiring day and this short break helped you relax a bit. Relax until Lucy ran screaming into you room. You were freaked out, afraid that something bad happened, but what she said blew away all your worry in a moment.

“Can dad sleep over tonight?” she asked with a wide grin.

Before you could say anything, Marc showed up in the background, watching you with a pleading look. It was your daughter’s idea, you knew it, but…

But why not? It’s not like he was a complete stranger.

“Sure, he can have the couch.”

The three of you cooked and ate dinner together before settling down in the living room with a big bowl of popcorn to watch a cartoon Lucy was obsessed with these days. You glanced over at Marc who sat on the other end of the couch with your daughter curled up by his side. She kept explaining things to him about the movie—the characters, the story—and Marc listened carefully, even asking questions. They were on the same wavelength and it was a wonderful sight, you didn’t even try to deny it.

In the middle of the night, you woke up to feeling thirsty so you went to the kitchen to get some water. You couldn’t help but glance over at Marc who was sleeping on the converted sofa bed, and that’s when you noticed he wasn’t alone. At one point after she had supposedly gone to bed, Lucy came to the living room and occupied the empty spot next to her father. The two of them were now sleeping peacefully, with Marc’s arm protectively wrapped around the little girl.

So this is what you took away from them. Maybe his request regarding her full name wasn’t that insane. Lucy would surely be happy once she found out she would have her father’s name as well, and he would also get what he wanted. Sure, it required some paperwork, but other than that, it wasn’t a big deal.

“Are you stalking me?”

With a questioning hum you looked over at Marc from the kitchen and saw that he was watching you with his head raised from the couch. Smiling, you raised the glass of water in your hand then walked over to him with quiet steps.

“Did I wake you up?” you asked in a whisper.

“It’s okay. Why don’t you stay with us?”

“I thought I would be the last person you wanted to see.”

“What? No. Wait, let’s not wake her up,” he said as he cautiously stood up and walked over to the kitchen with you. “You think I’m still mad at you?”

You nodded. “Why wouldn’t you be? I see how well you two get along. I kept her from you for so long, I wouldn’t blame you.”

Marc tenderly cupped your face with his palms as he watched you with a gentle smile. “I already told you that I never stopped loving you. There’s nothing you could do that would make me hate you. And the fact we have this amazing, beautiful little girl is just the cherry on top. This is exactly what I always wanted,” he explained.

Leaning into his touch, you tried to process his words. Did he really forgive you just like that? “Are you sure?” you asked uncertainly to which he replied with a nod. “Can you stick around and stay in her life?”

“I can… make some changes to make it work. I’ll find a place nearby so we could spend more time together.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

He nodded with a playful smirk on his lips. “After tonight I think I’ll be fine.”

You started laughing but quickly put a hand in front of your mouth to silence yourself. “This was just one night, Marc. Wait until you see her on her bad days. She’s a nightmare.”

“This little girl? She can’t be that bad,” he said naively.

“She inherited her temperament from you.”

It took Marc’s brain a few seconds to catch up. “Oh, shit. That’s not good.”

You laughed—silently this time—as you watched him run a hand over his face. But it was true, that little girl could be a loud, screaming nightmare when she didn’t get what she wanted. But maybe Marc would be able to handle it since they were so much alike. And now that he was here to stay, life might get a little easier for you two.

#moon knight #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector imagines #marc spector imagine #moon knight imagines #moon knight imagine #moon knight x reader

[newagesispage]

                                                              FEBRUARY             2021

 PAGE RIB

 The contents of someone’s bookcase are part of their history, like an ancestral portrait. –Umberto Eco

*****

The world is about to change with Biden and Harris in office. It is great to have Harris in there. More women in power is so important. Women don’t think with their dicks. I mean, a pussy likes to fuck just as much but we can also get some work done. Men are rarely as good at multitasking.  The inauguration went off with high security after the Trump insurrection. 5 were killed as the traitors stormed the Capitol on Jan. 6 but Biden still became the President on the 20th. Hooray for Pastor Raphael Warnock and Jon Osoff in Georgia for taking the Senate. We are off to an interesting start with Merrick Garland nominated for AG.** Janet Yellen is the 78th US Treasury secretary and the first woman!**John Kerry is the envoy for climate and Pete Buttigieg is up for secretary of transportation. ** Biden reversed the ban on transgender troops, stopped the Muslim ban and signed many other executive orders.

*****

Kudos to Bill Maher for giving out  his Baldy award and talking about Henry Waxman. And I was glad to see Waxman mention it and the many others who do the hard work, the real work of running this country.

*****

Elon Musk is now the world’s richest person.

*****

Did ya see the Wendy Williams night on Lifetime?  I have known friends and family with her behavior, this complete lack of self- confidence and yet completely self -absorbed. Yes, she was married to a jack ass and she can be entertaining but whew.. high drama.  I learned one thing.. Her Father and brother are HOT!!

*****

Neil Young sold stake in 50% of his song catalogue to Hipgnosis songs fund in Britain.

*****

John Mulaney is in rehab.

*****

The Little things with Jared Leto, Denzel and Rami Malek was tops at the Box Office.

*****

Olivia Wilde and Harry Styles?? Ooh la la!! What a beautiful couple!!

*****

Thank you Cleveland Browns for all the hope!!** And..C’mon Packers.. U should have won that!!** Seahawk Chad Wheeler was arrested for domestic abuse.

*****

Think before you speak, read before you think. –Fran Leibowitz

*****

The Zodiac killer cipher was solved by amateur codebreakers David Orandak in Virginia, Jarl Van Eycke in Belgium and Sam Blake in Australia more than 50 years later.

*****

Rebel with Katey Sagal looks pretty good.

*****

Richard Lewis will not be in season 11 of Curb due to his many surgeries. Miss ya Richard!!

*****

Elliot Page has filed for divorce from Emma Portner.

*****

In the ‘some things never go away’ category, there are new shows coming of V.C. Andrews and the Great Gatsby.

*****

Dylan McDermott is joining Christopher Meloni in Law and Order: Organized Crime.

*****

Cigarette sales are up.

*****

Crayola is recycling old markers at colorcycle. Never throw away markers again! Less Waste!

*****

Days alert: The big reveal FINALLY came on Days about Gwen from Peoria. She thinks she is Jack’s daughter! It looks like the DNA will prove it. The plot will thicken as Laura returns with a secret and bad things happen to her. Susan Banks is also back and gets in the middle of a couple of stories. I am always glad to see Ivan but unfortunately Vivian is close behind. The twins story should come to a head. Please don’t push Rafe and Nicole together!! Word is that Patch and Kayla will remarry on their old anniversary of Valentine’s Day!! Best of all, Ciara is back and has thoughts of Romeo and Juliet. Find her Ben, before you get close to Claire.

*****

Tom Brokaw has retired from NBC after 55 years. I remember when he retired from the news desk way back when.

*****

Ex- Chester county Sheriff Carolyn Welsh has been charged with stealing from a K-9 unit charity.

*****

Succession has added Sanaa Latham, Jihae and Linda Edmond.

*****

People are filling in for Robert Costa on Washington Week while he is off with Bob Woodward writing their book.  Yamiche Alcindor was a great host!!!!

*****

Some last headlines and thoughts and facts about the end of the worst Presidency in our history. Let’s hope this is the last of the news about the Traitor in chief except for paying for his crimes. Unity does not mean there are no consequences for criminals. Make no mistake Trump and some of his followers are criminals. **Here are a few things I ran across: Vanilla Ice played Mar A Lago for NY Eve.** After the riot many rats started to jump ship like Elaine Chao, Hope Hicks and Betsy Devos. The American Federation of Teachers reaction to Betsy Devos resignation: “Good Riddance.”** Mo Brooks had told the crowd, “Take names and kick ass.” Plans for a Sen. Hawley book were scrapped.** Adam Kinzinger of Illinois was one of the first to call for the 25th amendment that never happened.** People are trying to get to the bottom of the Riot with questions like, “Who paid for the buses?” ** These types of people are the reason we can’t have nice things. **  Scary Clown is off Twitter for good. Funny how it took Senators, companies and voters so long, 2 weeks before he leaves office to make him a pariah. Trump was too dangerous for twitter but not for the nuclear codes?? ** To anyone complaining about a private media co. kicking Trump off their platform: Think of twitter as a Christian bakery and Trump as a wedding cake. _William Cusack**The riot proved that blue lives really don’t matter to them.** U.S. rep for Colorado Lauren Boebert was given $70,500 by Ted Cruz just as he asked for a probe into Netflix. Her husband, Jayson was arrested for exposing himself to a minor and for domestic abuse.** Trump was impeached again.** “Republican colleagues broke down in tears saying that Republicans are afraid for their lives if they vote for this impeachment.- Congressman Jason Crow.** Mike Pompeo cancelled his European trip after Luxemburg’s foreign minister and top European union officials declined to meet him.**232 was the number of votes to impeach him and the number of electoral vote in his loss to Biden.**Trump’s interior secretary had his own flag** Trumps EPA guy made super- secret phone calls in his own phone booth and had 24 hour security.** Toby Keith and Ricky Scaggs received the National medal of arts. ** The Supreme Court tossed out a lawsuit claiming that Trump violated the emoluments clause. ** Dominion voting systems sued Rudy.** Trumps impeachment lawyers, Butch Bowers and Deb Barbier quit. Word is that they refused to say the election was stolen. The new team seems to include Bruce Castor who would not prosecute Bill Cosby and Epstein’s would be lawyer David Schoen. That sounds about right.

*****

Hey Manson didn’t stab anyone. Incitement is a real crime. –Michael Mckean.

*****

ABC News President James Goldston has resigned.

*****

Everyone is talking about the SNL Krasinski/Davidson kiss.

*****

The NRA is bankrupt.

*****

Lenny Kravitz paid tribute to his Godmother, Cicely Tyson.

*****

Colbert could take a tip from Larry King. Ask simple direct questions and let the interviewee talk. We are watching to hear what they have to say. The beginning of the show is the host’s moment so shut up later!!

*****

R.I.P. Dan Dettman, Floyd Little, Pierre Cardin, Phyllis Mcguire, George Gerdes, Joan Micklin Silver, Carl Panzram, Gerry Marsden, Tanya Roberts, Kerry Vincent, KT Oslin, Tommy Lasorda, Michael Apted, Dave Creek, Jamie O’Hara, Dr. H. Jack Geiger, William Link, Neil Shehan, Joanne Rogers, Duke Bootee, Phil Spector, Don Sutton, Siegfried, Sheldon Adelson, Larry King, Ved Mehta, Bruce Kirby, Cicely Tyson and Cloris Leachman.

[mrcspectr]

please PLEASE go feral about The Scene w/dr harrow honestly i adore reading your metas and thoughts about the moon knight boys i don't care if it's 50k words i would LOVE to read what you have to say ^^

ALRIGHT YOU ASKED BESTIE.

This is quite possibly one of my favorite scenes of the entire show. It's not just the fact that they were cofronting so easily. It's not just the fact that this was essentially the biggest mindfuck right into Harrow's psyche, the way they turned a direct attack on their identity and mental stability, sharpened it, and threw it right back at him in retaliation. That it's implied that this is their final interaction with him before they hide this broken man and his imprisoned god from the world in a psychiatric hospital, just like Harrow did to them.

What really gets me is how Marc and Steven are on equal footing as the dominate parties in the entire interaction. It's usually Marc that's more forceful and tries to control the situation right? Lemme explain.

This is not the face of Steven Grant afraid. We've seen Steven scared, the way his eyes can take over his whole face and just shine with it. This is Steven feigning discomfort, faking concern at Harrow's words. His eyes are darker here, have more focus and purpose to them. He's pretending. Steven has to make him believe that what he's doing is working because that's what Harrow assumes about him, that he's the fearful one, the one that's easier to manipulate.

He plays it so damn well and then he gets to be the one to drop the façade. But do you believe that Khonshu and Ammit are real?

Do I? No.

And then Marc slips in, and the transition is like a whisper, there's no struggle in the way it happens anymore. They've planned this out amongst themselves, pinpointed the exact moment to drop the act and twist the knife so that it has the desired effect, makes Harrow start to question in the same way he wants them to question even now, even when he's losing.

And what if we disagree Doc? What if we believe somethin' different?

The boys are hovering over him, looking down at him, and that's the moment we see Harrow experience that first pang of fear because of them.

Then our work here continues. And Harrow tries to walk away, tries pulling back and taking control, but look at Steven. The way he's watching for something, anything that gives him away. Because Marc's the one that mentions the blood, but Steven sees it first.

It's the way they have so very clearly hatched this plot together, and worked together to just.. Essentially "playing with your food before you eat it," so to speak. And then Steven, oh Steven gets to be the one to drive the point home, and it's so satisfying to see. It's the world's biggest gotcha moment.

Yeah, I don't think you know as much as you think you do.

This is Steven playing an equal part in not just saving the world, but in their own story. It's his subtle sort of revenge against Harrow for everything he's done, and everything he's tried to make Steven believe about himself, about Marc.

This is how the boys finally win.

While it is tempting to accept your diagnosis Doc, we'd rather go save the world.

And they love it. They love having the final say, that last word, they find their own sort of amusement in it because they did it together. We don't have to listen to you because we bested you. I remember watching this for the first time and thinking oh wow, they're unstoppable now because if they can do this, if they can grow into this teamwork and continue to use it for good, who even needs the suit anymore.

#it lives in the forefront of my mind all the time #it is a MASTERPIECE like it's the culmination of everything marc and steven have worked toward the entire show #YA'LL ARE GONNA MAKE ME ACT UP #there's also sort of a parallel to the boys looking down at him here to marc looking down at him in the tomb #with a crescent dart in his hand #but it's a vastly different outcome #'you have a choice' and this was how they chose #and with this choice they both had equal input on how it would go #and there's also a lot to be said about this being a moment of emotional/mental abuse #and they finally found the strength in each other to stand up to it #and and and it's what would've paired so well with the goddamn fucking CONFRONTATION SCENE OKAY #BECAUSE CONFRONTING WENDY BRINGS US FULL CIRCLE IN THAT IDEA OF THE DENIAL OF ABUSE #god damn okay i'm sorry this was so so long but i guess you asked so #anonymous #asks #mcu #moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #mk meta