+ ron weasley x witch!reader
boy, the lack of ron fics on here is saddening. my goofy king is so under-rated so i just had to write someting. this is purely self-indulgent because i'm obsessed with auror!ron and miss hogwarts. can you imagine dancing with ron in auror robes? swoon.
tags: fluff, getting-together, aged up/adults, after hogwarts
You're not sure how long you've been staring. It might have been an embarrassing amount of time — if you cared to check.
Time has been good to him. He is taller than you remember, lankier than ever, cheeks hollowing out and accentuating his strong, angled jaw. He's dressed in Auror robes no doubt, the thick black material cutting into the pale, freckled flesh and contrasting tastefully with his fiery red hair.
You spot Harry Potter beside him, who, to no one's surprise, is surrounded by a swarm of people as Ron snickers at him from the edges of the group. Harry throws him a disgruntled look. Their boyish tendencies make you smile, as your mind's eye turns back in time, to your years at Hogwarts.
While most people in your year had been obsessing over the Boy who Lived, you had had your eyes set out for his best friend. He had been, after all, your then closest friend's brother. But nothing had ever happened except for him once borrowing a quill from you and then he was someone else's.
And now, years later, there's just a small flutter in your heart at the sight of him. The dysrhythmia induced by a school girl crush has long disappeared but he's plenty handsome and that is hard to ignore.
"If you'd like me to introduce you, you need only say the word," Ginny's voice stirs you out of your daze.
You blush, tearing your gaze away from the red-head and look at the witch beside you. There's an all too familiar glint in her eyes that makes you frown. You had already caught up with each other several minutes ago, delighted at finally being able to meet each other at this Hogwarts Reunion, which was otherwise impossible because of your busy schedules.
"It's Harry you should be worried about," you retort, gesturing at the sea of innumerable witches he has now disappeared amidst.
"Ron's not seeing anyone at the moment," Ginny notes nonchalantly and you almost choke on your drink.
"It was a school crush, Ginevra," you mutter, but your words sound hollow to yourself as you watch Ron Weasley tilt his head back and laugh at something Luna Lovegood had just said.
"If only you had told me before year seven...," she mumbles, trailing off into her own thought. Only when Harry, Ron and Hermione had famously left their last year at Hogwarts to go on a quest to save the world (a story that was now a bed time tale for the new generation of wizards and witches) did you confess to Ginny that you had had an unrequited crush on her brother. But then the world almost ended, lives were lost and you lost touch with your only link to the Weasleys.
"If only. Too bad a dark, evil wizard was trying to kill us all," you mutter and Ginny throws you a look.
"You're actually perfect for Ron, you know," she remarks and you sigh, sipping the last of the enchanted beer.
"Why are you trying to play cupid, anyway? Do you not have people to meet? Hear Slughorn's looking for you," you say, in a vain effort to change the subject.
"He was?" Ginny asks, suddenly perking up and looking around with a troubled expression.
"If he asks for me again, I was never here," she whispers, slinking off into the crowd and out of sight.
Finally managing to shake off the flaming presence of one, adamant Weasley, you weave your way towards the bar. You order another round of the butter beer and look off to your left and back, only to find yourself standing beside... Ron Weasley himself.
"Hi," you say, a little out of breath, having been caught like a deer in headlights. He looks shocked too, not expecting someone to ambush him at the bar counter.
"I'm Y/N L/N," you add, trying to compose yourself and smile awkwardly.
"Oh...Y/N...?" his expression remains blank.
"Ginny and I used to be close...," you say, trying hard not to let the disappointment shine through in your voice.
"Ahh," Ron mumbles looking away and you're not convinced that means anything to him.
You wish the ground would open and swallow you whole. You're about to make a run for it and apparate, to save yourself from the embarrassment, when Ron speaks up.
"You wouldn't happen to be the girl who set Dean and Ginny up back then, did you?" he asks, as he gestures for the bar tender - Mrs. Rosmerta's son you've learnt.
You frown. "No, I don't think that was me. Why?" you ask, curious.
"Oh they were trouble, don't know why anybody thought they were a good idea," he mutters and you chuckle.
"'Suppose it's better having your best friend date your sister," you note, grateful for an excuse to keep the conversation going.
Ron turns towards you. "You'd think. But every time he's home, she takes up all his bloody time," he murmurs, so very sincerely, that you can't help but laugh.
"Don't tell him I said that though," he says, turning his head to look at Harry in the crowd who has finally managed to find his way to his old friends. "Don't need his head getting any bigger."
You grin. "I doubt it'll ever come up but I'll keep it in mind," you chirp, pausing to take a sip of the drink hat the bar-tender's handed to you.
You fall into easy conversation then, the awkwardness disappearing as Ron's smile gets wider and you start feeling more relaxed. He's sitting much closer to you now, drink in hand, smelling slightly like an old comforter and toothpaste and you're so happy, you've forgotten your drink beside you.
"We had a good run here," Ron is saying. He looks up and around him, at the adorned walls of the Great Hall and you nod.
"She's still so beautiful," you murmur, looking at the ceiling that has been bewitched to twinkle like with sky with stars today.
Ron sighs, wistfully. "Merlin, I miss Hogwarts."
"What do you miss the most?"
"Everything, you know, the food, the teachers, these halls, the dormitories. Blimey, even the classes, the girls—"
"What was so bad about the girls?" you ask, pretending to be offended and Ron's ears turn red.
"No, hell, I mean, it was so difficult to talk to girls back then.... but I'd take that over what I have going on right now."
He looks at you sheepishly, running a hand through his hair.
You frown at him.
"What do you mean?"
"What with work and everything, you know, there's no time," he admits, sighing.
"I'm sure any witch would make time for a wizard like you," you muse, eyes twinkling.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron echoes, quirking an eyebrow at you but there's a playfulness to his tone.
"I mean— you're an Auror— a great, distinctly famous wizard— and a good man from what I've heard," you say, as the red-head's eyebrows shoot up higher.
"And you're gorgeous," you add after a beat, not quite looking at him but Ron turns crimson. It's bold, for your standards and you decide to blame the beer.
"It's not that easy you know," he says after a moment, clearing his throat.
You look back at him through your eyelashes. There's a new shine in his eyes, a little pucker at the corner of his lips that makes your heart beat a little faster.
You're in the mood to play, so you lean over. "Oh, it's not? Do tell..."
"Well, I've been sat here twenty minutes," he says, leaning closer, voice dropping low, "...trying to rack up the nerve to ask a witch out for a dance and been failing spectacularly so far."
A shiver travels down your back and you tongue the inside of your cheek to keep from grinning. "Maybe try now?"
Ron suppresses a grin.
"Do you...," he's turned a slight shade of pink and you can't help but smile.
"Do you reckon you'd like to dance with me?" he asks, running a hand through his hair, tousling it and you have a mad urge to smooth it out but resist. There's a blush tinting his cheeks but the bashful grin on his face makes your cheeks heat up.
"I'd like that," you whisper as Ron stands up and bows before you, extending his hand.
You weave through a large part of the crowd hand in hand, to a somewhat empty space is the middle and Ron pulls you close to himself, taking one of your hands in his and placing a gentle one on your waist, taking the lead.
You blush a little, surprised by the charge he takes. You definitely like this cooler, confident Ron with bits of awkwardness and goofiness sprinkled in.
"You're a lot different than I remember," you blurt out, regretting it the minute the words roll off your tongue.
To your surprise, Ron looks amused.
"You have memories from school about me?"
You start swaying to the music, falling quite easily into the step of waltz.
Trapped. "Well...I was one of your sister's closest friends and you were only one of the most famous wizard's best friend," you say quickly, before you can embarrass yourself more by letting out your secret.
The song slows down, as you gently sway to the music, painfully aware of how warm Ron's breath is on your face. The hall is quieter now, the couples swaying silently on the floor as others watch and the gravity of the situation sinks in.
You're dancing with Ron Weasley.
You try to contain the flurry of butterflies erupting in your stomach at the realisation, but it's hard to focus when he's so gently holding you against him. You dance in quiet embrace for the rest of the song, fighting a losing hormonal battle, and just as it segues into something slightly faster, Ron spins you out on one arm.
"I'm sorry I don't remember you from school much," he says softly.
It's nothing— it's a pinch, a paper cut if anything. You already know he doesn't remember you but you can't help the flutter of disappointment in your chest his words.
You roll back into his arm gracefully and look up into his piercing blue eyes.
"Quite a shame really, you'd think I'd not be stupid and remember one of the most beautiful witches I've ever seen," he says, a genuineness in his eyes that makes you falter.
You freeze briefly in your little step, a wave of heat erupting over your chest at his swift words. School-girl-you would've melted into a puddle on the floor at these words, but adult-you knows better and wills your rapidly beating heart to slow down.
"You'd think so," you reply breathily, feigning disappointment and Ron chuckles.
"I'm sorry. You've got to excuse teenage Ron, he was a right git," he says and you can't help but laugh.
"I forgive him," you say. "We were all gits when we were sixteen."
"You know," he pipes again, pulling you away from the center of the floor. The music has turned faster now and by the time he's pulled you to the very edges, the floor is a chaotic flurry of limbs.
"We could make up for lost time."
You quirk up an eyebrow at him, surprised by his forwardness.
"For someone who was struggling to ask me for a dance only minutes ago, you're being awfully direct."
Ron blushes but the grin on his face grows wider.
"Something an old friend told me about letting people know you fancy them when you fancy them," he mumbles and you quirk an amused eyebrow at him.
"You fancy me?"
He smiles sheepishly. "I thought it was obvious," he quips, pulling you closer by your fingers.
"I'd like to get to know you better then," you whisper. Ron smiles down warmly at you, turning your stomach to mush.
"I'd like to get to know you better too," he says, and his smile quickly turns into a smirk.
"Your place or mine?"
i write for harry & ron (and possibly others if inspiration strikes) please send in requests and your thoughts!
not him crossing his arms and being offended after his padawan insinuated his turn to the dark side he will forever be the galaxy’s menace
[mini series]
summary: things get pretty heated, in more ways than one, between you and elliot, who you absolutely loath.
fandom: euphoria
parings: elliot x f reader
warnings: smut, swearing, drug and alcohol use
smut: *
PART ONE *
PART TWO *
PART THREE *
completed
sooo im rewatching daredevil rn … if you’d like pls send me matt murdock or frank castle requests 🙏
THIS!!!!
i really don't mind nat dying on a narrative level (otherwise im fucking devastated) because like. yes, she was turning her life around. she was becoming better she was recovering and the yellowjackets fucked it all up. cause they make each other worse. they already fucked lottie up to the point she had to be commited, they killed nat, and they're probably gonna continue ruining each others lives
i don't think it's a coincidence both of them were the "queens" too. whoever gets the reigns crumbles under the weight of the others' faith
Masterlist
Summary: Things with Marc have been…touchy to say the least. Can things get better?
Pairings: Marc x fem!reader
Warnings: Swearing. Established relationships. Verbal conflict. Break up. Physical conflict with some asshole. Knife but no harm to reader. Everything is wet but not how you think. hurt/comfort. angst/comfort. i mean I hope the comfort is there lol.
Word count: 4.3k
A/N: this is for my first-ever fic request. never thought someone would ever want to ask me of all people for a fic. I hope everyone likes it. it kind of got away from when writing it sooooo lol
Things were fairly quiet in the flat as Marc enters looking exhausted. It doesn’t take him long to notice the sound of the shower running. You were home. Just great. With an exasperated huff, Marc makes his way to the chest of drawers to quickly pack for yet another mission. Grabbing the things he was looking for he begins to shove them in a bag, trying to hurry out of the flat before you can notice, but he was never that lucky.
The shower turned off as he was putting the last couple things in and in a rush Marc runs into a chair with a loud thud and a “Fuck!”
“Marc?” You called from the bathroom, hoping it was him and not some burglar, as you stepped out, wrapped in your towel. He had been gone for quite some time with no word on if he was okay or when he’d be coming back. You and Marc had been together a while now, so long that he actually trusted you enough to tell you about Khonshu and what being his avatar meant. It was a bit hard to believe at first, until Marc summoned his suit in front of you…there’s no denying it then. So you came to understand that what Marc was doing was for the greater good, that he was out there helping good people and punishing bad ones. The first few times he left on a mission, you were worried sick and oh so relieved when he got back no matter how long that would be for…but after a while, after many discussions about just a simple text being enough, some kind of indication he was alive and maybe even when you would see him again him being away also brought frustration and maybe a little anger. While fights had become frequent when his missions were brought up, you both managed to make up and move on…until it happened again.
“Shit…” Marc muttered under his breath, “Yeah!…yeah, it’s me. Just stopped by to grab some things…got a uh…long trip ahead.” He knew what was about to come, another fight, another round of the same old thing.
“That’s it?! You’re just grabbing things and going? Were you even going to say ‘hello’? Or ‘I missed you’? Or ‘I love you’? Just grabbing things and avoiding me now?” Your tone became more and more agitated with each question. You had been waiting for him to come back, like you always did, and had been looking forward to spending time with him. Did he seriously need to go on another mission right as he was coming back from one??
“I didn’t think you’d be home.”
“Do you even know what day it is? Of course I’m home, Marc.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
“Don’t get smart with me, Spector. How many more times do I have to ask you, to beg you to just send me a message or call me? If I didn’t know any better I’d say you really just didn’t give a shit.” By now you’ve shed the towel that was wrapped around you and began to dress yourself. You were fuming and you truly wondered if he did care, if he could change.
“Is that what you think?” Marc let out an exasperated laugh, shaking his head, his grin at your accusatory statement beginning to turn sour. “You’d like that wouldn’t you. To be right about me, huh? Someone who doesn’t give a shit about us, about you? Fine…you know what you’re right. I’ll save you the trouble and just get the fuck out of here.”
You could feel your heartbeat in your ears. Is he fucking serious right now? That’s it. “Good. And don’t expect me to be here when you get back.” The words felt cold even to you, but what else could be done? Sleepless nights, the secrecy, the blatant disregard for your relationship…you were basically like another goldfish for him and the flat your tank, just waiting for Marc to come back and feed you the little flakey sorry excuses for quality time or physical touch. It’s time to find open waters.
Marc couldn’t believe you, he didn’t believe you, that you would seriously leave. If he’s being honest with himself (which let’s be honest he can rarely be honest with the people he cares about let alone himself) he’s surprised you haven’t left him before now. Maybe he really is a piece of shit that doesn’t care…no, he can’t think like that. You’ve fought before and you make up and…everything’s okay. That’s right. You’re the one constant in his life and he really does look forward to seeing you after his missions…everything’s going to be okay.
He looks at you, intense brown eyes assessing you for your bluff…of course you’re bluffing…he shakes his head letting out a puff of breath through his nose before turning and walking out the door, shutting it a little harder than intended but not quite a slam.
Unfortunately for Marc…you weren’t bluffing.
As he makes his way out of the flat and on to his next mission you had begun to pack your things, anger simmering into frustration and heartbreak as tears roll down your cheeks. You try to steady yourself but you can’t stop the tears. Grabbing your things, or as much of it as you care to take with you, you walked out and locked the door. With the key in hand you looked it for a moment and sighed.
“Goodbye, Marc Spector.”
You knelt down and slid the key under the door, turning away and headed home.
~*~*~*~
Marc tries to quietly enter the flat like he had weeks earlier…once again he hadn’t called or texted you to update you on his mission, how he was, when he was coming back. This time however he was going to be able to just relax a while. Knowing things were left not on great terms, he had been ruminating on how to make it up to you. “I won’t be here when you get back.” The whole time he had been away those words stayed with him, he would tell himself you didn’t mean it, that you would still be here. After all, you were so patient and understanding of him, his past, and trying to help him make a better future.
Marc wasn't the best at keeping people close, especially the people he cared about. He told himself the reason he never called or texted you while on a mission was for your safety, he didn’t want anyone catching wind of him having something or someone to lose. He told himself it was the same reason that when he returned from a mission he would never come directly home. He would always stay at his storage locker a night or so or even stay somewhere else entirely before making his way back to the flat to see you. Of course he never expressed this. That would have made too much sense, made things too easy. And Marc was never good at making things easy, especially for himself.
He walked around the flat, looking for a sign you might be here. He didn’t see your bags or your laptop anywhere and he didn’t hear the shower or sink so you weren’t in the bathroom.
“Babe???” He called out. Maybe you were hiding? Yeah right, not really any place to hide in this open floor plan flat. “Baby???” Still he called out hoping just maybe you were hiding. He started back to the front of the flat, thinking you might have been in the kitchen (maybe with your headphones in listening to music) and he just didn’t notice. Marc was beginning to feel like a kid that had gotten separated from their parents at the grocery store. But when he got to the kitchen it was empty. Now he was beginning to panic. Maybe someone had found out about you and took you. He was already jumping to the worst possible scenario.
Clenching his fists, he hung his head trying to think of what to do, how to find you. His hands found their way into his curls as he gave them a tug getting more and more desperate with each passing second. That’s when the glint of something metallic flashed at him from a spot on the floor in front of the door. Confused and intrigued, he slowly approached it as if it might suddenly attack, but once he got closer he felt like he would have preferred a key monster attacking him.
Your copy of the key.
He knelt down, picking it up, examining it. This was definitely your key. Realization came crashing down on him. You really meant what you said. He really fucked up.
“Shit…SHIT!!”
He had to find you. He never wanted it to end like this, hell he never wanted it to end in general. It was one of those moments where you don’t truly appreciate what you have until it’s gone. Marc grabbed his jacket and keys and started back out into the chilly London night, thunder rolling in the distance. He had to find you and apologize. You deserved at least that. He told himself that even if you didn’t take him back, even if you didn’t forgive him, he wouldn’t blame you or be upset, you had every right to be upset. He fucked up royally after you begged him to be better. Maybe next time he would learn from his mistake, if he allowed himself to find someone else…but he didn’t want anyone else.
He managed to find a flower shop that was just about to close. Briefly summarizing his situation the shoppist took pity on him, letting him buy a small bouquet. Marc felt that if it was too big his apology might seem insincere or that he was just trying to bribe you to come back. No, the size he got was modest, but not puny. He hoped you would like it, even if you no longer liked him.
With an aching heart, he begins the trek to your place. You both hadn’t talked about moving in together just yet, but maybe if Marc hadn’t been such an ass maybe you could have.
~*~*~*~
The past weeks had been…hard, to say the least. You had gone home and cried and got angry and cried some more. By now the pain, though still fresh, had simmered down a little. You didn’t want things to end that way, but Marc just wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t change. It was hard having him gone so often, worrying if he was alright even knowing the suit would heal him. You just wanted to have him near you, hold you, and you wanted to do the same to him. He’s a good man deep down, but he just can’t seem to get out of his own way.
Your friends had been taking you out on the town since you broke things off with Marc, trying to get your mind off of it all. It worked, sometimes. Other times you would call it an “early” night and head back to your flat. This was one of those nights.
You had dressed cute, a very flattering outfit in both fit and color. You had a drink or two but nothing crazy, not like one of your friends. They all decided to stay out into the early morning, you however thought about your bed and sleeping in. The sound of your shoes against the sidewalk was really the only sound around in this sleepy part of town, aside from the thunder that seemed to get closer. Heaving a sigh, you cursed at yourself for not having brought a proper jacket or umbrella, but you were close to your neighborhood so maybe you could get there before it truly started raining. Now the bed was sounding even better than before, rain outside, cozy blanket, your comfort movie on, the feeling of being watched…your steps were no longer the only ones heard echoing in the night air. Your thoughts were yanked from the blissful thoughts of home to the very present moment and the gravity of just how alone you are this late at night.
You don’t dare look back, so you start to walk a little faster…the other steps picking up their pace too. Again and again, until you’re practically running, but try as you might those other steps are quicker. A strong arm suddenly grabs you from behind as a hand quickly covers your mouth as the body begins to carry you into an alley as rain begins to sprinkle down. The man harshly presses you against the hard exterior of the building…a glint in the dim light…a knife coming to hover in front of your face. As the rain begins to come down truly, it hides the tears that had begun to roll down your cheek.
“Hey, pretty lady. Where’s your friends, hmm? Seen you walking this way couple times…watching that ass move down the road. But that isn’t all I want. Give me your purse, your phone, anything of value…now.” His voice was harsh and his smell somehow still carried through in the rain. You hate how close he was, close enough to know things about him you never wanted to know. As he shifts against you, adjusting his hold on you, you can’t help but whimper in fear.
“Come on now! Don’t have all night pretty thing…out with it.” He barked in your face as your trembling hands began to comply, handing him your things.
“P…please just…please don’t…” Trying to catch your breath at this moment proved nearly impossible. Your heart pounding against your ribs, your lungs doing the same as your hastened breath matched your heart. This couldn’t be happening, why was this happening.
The man tucked your things away, to where you didn't know and didn’t care. You let out a whimper of fear of what might come next. The cold rain beating down on the both of you made you feel even more helpless, especially when a figure was suddenly standing at the entrance to the alley you had been dragged in. It was difficult to make out his features with the way the street light was lighting him from the back. Anxiety spiked as you began to wonder if this was another creep wanting to get in on the action, if they were a weird team or something, but more than anything you hoped it was some kind soul who would help you…though you were quickly running out of hope.
“Oi, what are you looking at huh?” The creep challenged the figure, so they obviously didn't know each other. You glanced around hoping the man would be distracted enough that maybe you could make a break for it, but before you could hatch a plan the figure was headed towards the both of you. “Are you deaf?! You better walk the other way and mind your business, yeah?!”
By now you had closed your eyes, you didn’t know what to do, words were failing you. All you wanted was to be home in bed and for all this to be some sick nightmare brought on by the night's tiring events. The sound of plastic hitting the ground was nearly drowned out by the pattering of rain. In an instant you were colder than before. Was this it? You stood there trembling as time seemed to drag on one agonizing second after another. You realized the creep was no longer caging himself around you, there was a thud and splash of a body hitting the puddling rain on the ground…then a repetitive thunk, thunk, thunk.
Your eyelids felt like they weighed a ton as you slowly opened your eyes, raindrops collecting on them before inevitably falling to your cheeks. And there you see the second man, pummeling the creep until he’s just a groaning barely writhing mess on the ground. When the man stood he gave the creep a swift kick to the gut causing him to cough and wheeze as the man wiped his knuckles clean before retrieving your things…and pocketing them himself. Oh shit, no this can’t be…not another asshole. Your legs could finally hear your brain’s commands as you started to hurry to the alley opening, the crunch of plastic as you stepped on what the man had dropped.
A strong, forceful, calloused hand grabbed your arm as you let out a scream. “NOOOOO! LET GO!!!” Somehow your fight had returned as you pulled against the man’s grip, his other hand coming to grab your arm. He was…saying something, but you didn’t want to hear it, you just wanted to run.
“BABY!!”
You froze, your eyes snapping to look at the man holding you still, eyes wide from adrenaline, fear, and shock. The street light no longer casting a shadow over his features, now the light shone on his damped tan skin and making his wet curly hair glisten.
“M…Marc? Marc…” You couldn’t help it, seeing him there feeling his grip holding you steady, everything came crashing in. A heartbreaking sob clattered from deep inside. Marc reached up, cupping your face in his hands.
“Shhhh…shhh it’s okay baby, it’s okay. You’re safe, baby. You’re safe.” His thumbs gently stroked your cheeks before slipping behind to pull you in close. The rain beat down on you both as Marc held you until you had managed to calm down enough so your thoughts could catch up with what was happening.
“Marc, you…how did you…why are you…?” You stuttered as his hand reached up, gently wiping your hair out of your face where it had clung to your skin.
“I uh…I was coming to see you…to apologize. Wanted to get my thoughts together on what I wanted to say…felt like walking was the best way to do that. Well, walking where I could. That’s when I heard a bit of…what was happening. I was already ready to step in and do something…but when I saw it was you I just saw red. Baby, I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” The way he looked at you, his chocolatey brown eyes seeming so dark in the late night, you still didn’t understand.
Marc carefully and slowly let go of you to pick up the plastic wrapped bouquet of flowers, now slightly trampled and looking a little rough.
“These were…these were for you. Though, I don’t blame you if you don’t want them now.” He turned the bouquet this way and that to examine the little bit of damage they sustained. Looking back at you, clearly still in shock, he hands you the bouquet and begins to take off his jacket, putting it around your shoulders. The jacket shielding you, it was warm and helped take the chill from your skin. Putting his arm around you, he began to lead you out of the alley and down the sidewalk to your flat. Once at the door, he helped you to unlock it.
“Well, um…you get inside and get warm.” He stood there a moment, not sure what to do really. Should he come in? Would you even want him to come in? Maybe you should call one of your friends to come over…Marc doesn’t believe you’d want him to stick around too long. So, he begins to take a few steps away from you and the door.
“Why did you come to find me, Marc? The flowers? What is…what is happening here? I mean—thank you, for saving me. For—for being there, I just…I don’t understand.” Shaking your head you still tried to make sense of what felt like a very strange sequence of events. You looked at him, like really looked at him. The man you thought you’d never see again except for an awkward exchange at a pub or a tesco. He resembled a sad puppy that had been left in the rain.
“That’s probably the shock. You’ll want to lay down for a while…like I said, I wanted to—to apologize. For being an ass, for not listening to you, for all the times you begged me to do something and I never did. Look,” Marc took a deep breath, his shirt now beginning to cling to his body. “I am in no way expecting you to forgive me or take me back or give me a second chance cause quite frankly I don’t deserve it. You asked me so many times to do something so simple and I had convinced myself that by me not doing that—not texting you or calling you—I was protecting you. That I was making it so people wouldn’t find out about you…and I should have just told you that. I am so sorry. If I had—if I had maybe you wouldn’t have been out tonight. Maybe you would have been back home waiting for me to come home, you wouldn’t have…” his chest began to rise and fall as his breath hastened.
He did this. He caused this domino effect where you could have gotten seriously hurt. It seems no matter what he does, he can’t help but hurt the people he cares about. Maybe it is better that he just not get close to anyone…as much as it breaks his heart.
While Marc had begun to spiral you made your way down the front steps over to him, taking his hand in yours.
“Marc, stop that. None of what happened tonight is because of you…sure I might have been somewhere else, but some creep could have found me any other night. He could have found me while you were gone on your mission, but,” you quickly added, giving Marc a stern look, stopping him from saying that that would have been his fault too for not being here, “you can’t blame yourself for that. Marc, do you know how long I’ve just wanted an apology? An acknowledgment of how you were hurting me.” When those words left your mouth, Marc brows knit together, causing that crease between them to appear, he looked positively gutted. Of course he was hurting you, there didn’t need to be some weirdo in the middle of the night or some enemy of his to cause you pain—he was already doing that.
“I know…and I should have said it a long time ago. I should have because you deserved that much…that’s why I came out to find you…why I got the flowers. I—You deserved better. I understand why you left and I’m sorry it had to end like that.” He did everything he could not to look at you, he thought if he did his heart would hurt more than it already did. “You deserve far better than someone that doesn’t realize what he has until it’s gone.”
Your hand reached up, gently cupping his rain slick cheek, the both of you thoroughly soaked by now, but not wanting to leave the other despite the rain. When Marc felt the warmth of your hand on his cheek he couldn’t help but lean into it, damn he missed this.
“Oh, Marc…damn it. I never wanted to leave. I wanted you to work with me. It broke my heart to leave, but I didn’t see any other way. You didn’t seem like you wanted this to work…wanted us to work.” Your other hand came up to move his hair from where it stuck to his skin like he had yours. This really hit Marc hard. He wanted to be with you, couldn’t imagine life without you. Well he got a glimpse of it tonight and the horrid taste it left in his mouth was something he wished to never taste again, but that wasn’t up to him.
He took a deep breath, a calloused hand coming to hold yours against his cheek.
“Come inside, Marc.”
“I—I shouldn’t.”
“I wasn’t asking. You say you don’t want a second chance, that you don’t deserve one, but if anyone deserves a second chance it’s Marc Spector.”
His eyes snapped up to find yours, slightly widened at this news. “Baby…”
“Marc, I love you. And I want you in my life, but if this is going to work, if we’re going to be together…some things have got to get better. All I’ve done since I left was think about you. So…promise me, if we do this, that things will get better.” You stepped closer to him, your body pressing against his as his other hand comes to rest on your waist.
“I swear. Baby, I swear. I’ll text you, call you, send postcards, anything you want. I’ll make it up to you, all the times I fucked up.” He pulled you closer, arm wrapping around you.
“Marc, let’s take this a step at a time. Okay? A new start. How does that sound?”
“Like heaven on Earth. Like I’ve been reborn.”
You couldn’t help but giggle at his flowery statements. Marc could be goofy when he wanted to, you felt like he was only able to relax when you were around and you didn’t mind that. It meant that you made him comfortable, that he felt like he could let down some of his walls and let you in.
Hearing your laugh made his heart lighter, a smile spreading across his lips. Marc was in awe of you, of your features, your laugh and voice, and your saint-like patience. He found himself leaning in, eyes drifting down to your lips, yours doing the same. You couldn’t help it, not with how close he was and how his hand held you against him.
“Marc,” you breathed out before his kiss took your breath away. He pressed his lips to yours like it had been a lifetime since he’d kissed you. The rain didn’t seem so cold anymore as you both embraced.
taglist: @saberlight1 @roseqzpd @rosecentaur1916 @ahookedheroespureheart @sleepyamaya @parkeepingparker @lockleysgrl @marc-spectorr @vermillionsails @harrys-tittie @n0ripeaches @missdictatorme @bitchyglitterfox @spacecowboyhotch @randomchick546 @teacupcollector @local-mr-frog @stevenknightmarc @ahookedheroespureheart @mccn-bcys @juneknight
Why do all these characters have nicknames and why can i never clock them. I’ve spent the whole time in the yellowjackets fandom slowly figuring out everyone’s given names from their nicknames and it’s psyching me out. It took me so long to figure out that lottie’s given name was charlotte and every time i remember that van’s given name is vanessa i have a miniature heart attack. Mari’s full name is probably maria. Fuck. Gen’s full name is probably genevieve. Shit. Jackie might be short for jacqueline. Crying rn. The fifth season is gonna come out or smth and tell me misty’s real name is mysterious quigley and i’ll have no choice but to keel over and die
my requests are normally open, if you like to send one in, the link to who i write for is here. there are more fics coming soon! much love <33
let the light in — lucy gray baird
my love, mine all mine — lucy gray baird
pretty boy — matt murdock
the red means i love you — frank castle
dazed love — natalie scatorccio
Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986) dir. John Hughes
dominic fike hive
the prophet & the queen