🥃 “I know you’re tired, but you have to stay awake.” and natasha romanoff
keep your eyes open ✧ natasha romanoff
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request: 🥃 “I know you’re tired, but you have to stay awake.” and natasha romanoff - annab-nana
pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader
word count: 269
warnings?: pet name (sweetie), not proofread
“C’mon, sweetie, you have to keep your eyes open,” Nat said, cradling your head in her hands. Your head rested in her lap, your eyes slowly blinking as you tried to stay awake. The Helicarrier tremored slightly as Steve flew it through the sky. Somewhere, Bucky and Sam were bickering about Redwing, the conversation occasionally pausing as you assumed they looked your way. “I know you’re tired, but you have to stay awake. I know it’s hard, but you gotta keep those pretty eyes open.”
“But I’m sleepy,” you whined.
“You’re concussed,” she corrected. “Remember? You hit your head?”
“I didn’t hit my head,” you mumbled. “One of those goons hit my head. Which was really rude, ‘cause now I’m left with the ouchie.”
“I think they have the bigger ouchie,” Steve said from the pilot’s seat.
“Huh?”
“Nat went into crazy killer mode,” Sam said. “Was almost sure she was gonna kill us next if we didn’t get out her way.”
“Note to self: If you want a mission done quick, have Y/N injured so Nat loses it,” Bucky chimed in.
Nat’s lip curled as she looked at Bucky. “If you ever think of intentionally putting her in harm's way, you’ll be lucky if all you get is a concussion.”
Bucky raised his hands, turning back to Sam, choosing to go back to the great Redwing debate.
“Can we get pancakes when we get back to the Compound?” you asked.
“After you go to the doctor and get checked out for any other injuries, we can do whatever you want.”
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request: Heyyy. In "best for him" could you do another part or a little drabble (no pressure obviously) like they met again somehow maybe reader was in danger or maybe Marc and Layla were walking together and somehow they make eye contact, just a fleeting moment between them or Marc/reader has been miserable and the other person got over the heartbreak. It’s totally up to you thank youu - anon
pairing: marc spector x fem!reader; nathan bateman x fem!reader; marc spector x layla el-faouly
summary: things have changed, and now you’ve moved on. it’s for the best.
word count: 1,764
warnings?: a lil angsty, not proofread
THE BEST FOR HIM (PART 1)
Layla had asked to go to the beach. They had been working together for quite some time, a romance quickly blossoming between the two of them. Marc tried to not let the guilt eat at him. But it had just sort of happened. He never planned for it to. He never wanted to be with anyone else besides you. But she was there, and she was kind. She cared about him. It wasn’t the same as being with you, it was different. Not better, not worse. Just different. And Marc didn’t want to make the same mistakes with Layla as he had done with you. He couldn’t handle losing another love. So, if Layla wanted to go to the beach, he would make it happen.
They were walking down the water, hands joined together, both carrying their shoes in their free hand. Layla had said something about it being nice to feel the sand between her toes, the waves tickling at their ankles as the water came in and went out. Marc didn’t care, but he wanted to make her happy.
He hadn’t made you happy. He had hurt you. And he had lost you.
“I’m glad we took this break,” Layla said, leaning her head against Marc’s arm. “You’re always so tense nowadays. It’s nice to see you relaxed.”
“Me too,” Marc said.
“Still a man of many words,” she teased, bumping her hip with his. “So, I was thinking, after we get done here, we go down to this bookshop close by? It’s supposed to have some really hard to find books that I’ve been looking for.”
“Sure. Sounds fun.”
Just as Layla was about to say something else, Marc stopped dead in his tracks. Oh, he wasn’t expecting this. He wasn’t expecting this at all.
“What’s wrong?” Layla asked.
Marc looked away, trying to pretend he didn’t see what he saw. But, he did. And he couldn’t ignore it. “Do you remember the girlfriend I had before you? Y/N?”
“Yeah, why?” Layla paused, realizing what had spooked him. “She’s here. Isn’t she?”
“Over under the big yellow umbrella, in the pink bathing suit,” Marc said. “I-I never thought I would see her again. I hope she’s okay. Happy.”
Layla searched his eyes, trying to find something. Then, she said, “You can go talk to her if you want. If it will bring you peace of mind. I know how much you love her still, even if you pretend like you don’t think about her.”
“Layla—”
“It’s okay. She was your first love. She was there for you for so much. And with how things ended, I understand why you still care for her.” She nudged him in your direction. “Go ahead. I’m going to look for some sea shells, okay? Come find me when you’re done.”
Layla let go of his hand, walking off to find some sea shells, leaving Marc alone to sort out what he wanted to do. What he wanted to say, if he said anything at all. He wanted to run away, to leave and forget that he saw you. But…He couldn’t let this opportunity pass itself by. He didn’t know if he would ever get the opportunity to see you again.
So, he swallowed his doubts and walked up to you.
You were reading a book, some sort of romance novel if he had to guess based off the cover. You almost didn’t notice him, until his body cast a shadow down on you. You looked up from the look, lifting your sunglasses from being perched on your nose to resting on top of your head. An eyebrow quirked. Your eyes looked him up and down. “Well,” you said, “never thought I’d see you again.”
He tried to ignore the near-venom in your voice. You used to always speak so sweetly to him. But those days were long gone. “I’m here with Layla,” he said. He wasn’t sure why he lead with that. “Um, and I saw you, and I just wanted to say hi.”
“Well, are you?”
“Excuse me?”
“Going to say hi. Because I’m really interested in my book, and I would like to get back to that. So, please, say your hi and then go on your merry little way.”
Ouch. That…That really hurt. That you would treat him with such hostility. He deserved it, definitely. He’d broken your heart. He didn’t deserve kindness, not from you. But…To be here, to hear you, to see how you looked at him, it felt like his heart was breaking all over again.
“Hi,” he said. He cleared his throat, looking away. “I…I also wanted to see if you were okay. I-I know we didn’t end things under the best conditions and—”
Your eyes zeroed in on the gold band on his finger. “You got married?”
Marc swallowed hard. Shit. He forgot about the ring. “Uh, yeah. It wasn’t really planned. Just sorta happened.”
“Musta been quite the gal to convince you to settle down.”
Marc looked away. The guilt ate away at him, burrowing deep into his chest. When the two of you were together, Marc had been insistent that he would never marry. Didn’t see the point in it, he said. What was marriage but a piece of paper and some tax benefits? His love for you should’ve been enough. Early in the relationship, you had tried to persuade him otherwise, tell him all of the things that were great about being married. But he didn’t want to hear them. His mind was made up. So, he didn’t listen.
And, really, truly, he hadn’t planned on marrying Layla. But he almost died—again. And Layla had been so distraught, nursing him back to health. When he regained his health, he decided he couldn’t just keep skirting around their relationship. At that point, they were a sort of friends with benefits. But now, she had been there for him, taken care of him—he wanted to marry her.
So he did. And he didn’t think about how unfair that was to you until you were confronting him over it.
“Yeah, uh, Layla’s great.”
“Layla? The one you were working with?” You hummed when he nodded. “She’s quite the lucky gal. Hope she knows that.”
“I’m the lucky one. To, to find love again after…I don’t deserve her. I didn’t deserve you, either.”
“No, you didn’t.” You set your book down after placing a bookmark in it. As you laid the book beside you, he, too, caught the glint of a gold band, coupled with a glittering diamond ring. “Though, I suppose I should thank you. I never would have met my husband if we hadn’t broken up.”
“Your husband.”
“Some men actually want to marry me. We’re actually on our honeymoon.”
“It’s not that I didn’t want to marry you, I just—”
“Who the fuck are you?”
Marc looked behind you as a man approached the two of you. He stood just an inch, maybe two, shorter than Marc. He had a shaved head, a full beard, and nerdy-looking glasses…And he was Nathan fucking Bateman, the CEO of Blue Book.
“Hi, honey,” you said, smiling at Nathan as he handed you a margarita. Nathan leaned down, pressing a kiss to your lips, but kept his eyes on Marc. “Marc was just about to leave.”
“Marc,” Nathan repeated.
“Mhm. He’s here with his wife. Just wanted to stop and say hello. Now he’s leaving.” You looked back at Marc, raising a brow, as if you were daring him to challenge you.
“You married a fucking CEO?” Marc asked. He couldn’t wrap his head around this. He had always figured you would move on but…Marrying a billionaire was far from the life he thought you would have.
“Like I said, some men actually want to marry me. And some men don’t know what they had until it’s gone.”
“Y/N—”
“She won’t outright say it, but I will,” Nathan interrupted. “Leave us, leave her, alone. We’re on our fucking honeymoon, and we don’t need you ruining our trip. Alright? So run back to your wife. We’re done here.”
Marc looked back at Layla, who was examining a scallop shell that she had found. He should be happy with her. He really should. But when he looked back at you, all he could think of was everything that he had missed out on. But you weren’t his anymore, and he would never get to experience life with you again. So, he swallowed what was left of his pride and said, “Don’t break her heart like I did.”
“You’re not exactly in the best position to be giving relationship advice, are you?” Natan said.
“Can you just promise me you won’t hurt her? Just give me that, and I’ll be out of her life for good.”
“I promise. Now get the fuck out of here.”
Marc spared one more glance to you, muttering another “I’m so sorry”, before turning and rejoining Layla.
Layla smiled when she saw him, lifting her hand to show off the sea shells she had found.
“Those look great,” Marc said. “Great finds.”
“Thank you. You were over there a while,” Layla said. “Everything okay?”
Marc tried to not let the tears prick at his eyes, but it amounted to nothing. They were still there, threatening to spill over. “She moved on. Got married. Couldn’t stand the sight of me.”
“Was she happy?”
Marc nodded. “I think so. Until I showed up, I guess. She, uh, found out we were married, and I think I hurt her all over again. I-I always told her I wasn’t the marrying type, so I guess she thinks I never wanted to marry her.” He shook his head, trying to forget about it all. “Her, uh, husband seems to be good for her, though. Seems to love her, makes her happy. Which is all I can ask for her. I only want the best for her.”
“I’m sure she knows that,” Layla said. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”
Marc took Layla’s hand again, letting her lead him off the beach, passing you by again as they left. You didn’t even lift your head as he walked by, instead laughing at something Nathan was saying. He couldn’t remember the last time you looked so carefree, so happy. And it hurt that he wasn’t the person making you so happy.
Congratulations on the 4K sugar!! So so happy for you!! I'd like to request for a 🥃 + "Is that my shirt?" "You mean our shirt?" + Bucky Barnes please? (And if it's not too much trouble, how about adding ABO dynamics to the mix?) Hope you have fun with it!! Thank you 💛🌌
your favorite things ✧ bucky barnes
angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)
request: Congratulations on the 4K sugar!! So so happy for you!! I'd like to request for a 🥃 + "Is that my shirt?" "You mean our shirt?" + Bucky Barnes please? (And if it's not too much trouble, how about adding ABO dynamics to the mix?) Hope you have fun with it!! Thank you 💛🌌- that-damn-girl
pairing: alpha!bucky barnes x omega!fem!reader
word count: 323
warnings?: a/b/o dynamics, fluff, not proofread
Bucky leaned against the door frame, watching as you flitted around the room. You were nesting, picking out the perfect pillows and blankets and pieces of clothing to add. You took the task very seriously, just like the good little omega you were. He had been watching you for a good fifteen minutes, returning home from work to find you running up to the bedroom with a bundle of blankets in your arms.
Finally, you turned to him, a hopeful look on your face as you asked, “Do you like it?”
“I would like any nest you make, omega,” Bucky said. He stepped out of the doorway, walking closer to you, His hands rested on your hips, tugging your body close to his. “But this one? I love it.”
You let out a happy chirp at his praise, resting your head on his chest, nuzzling your head, snaking your arms around his waist. “I’m glad you like it, alpha.”
“Love it,” he corrected. “Can I look at it?”
You nodded, unwinding yourself from him, watching as he took a step towards your nest, peering at your creation. You waited with bated breath, needing so desperately to hear your mate’s praise.
Bucky turned, a smile curled on his face as he pointed to a shirt in the nest. “Is that my shirt? My favorite shirt?”
Your face felt like it was on fire as he looked at you. “You mean our shirt?” you said. “Our favorite shirt?”
Bucky walked back up to you, pulling you in his arms. “I’m glad you love it enough to add it to your nest. Love that you use my—our—things in your nest.”
“It’s not finished yet, though,” you said.
“Oh? Need me to get you something?”
“Mhm. Need you to get your booty in the nest, then it’ll be perfect.”
Bucky laughed, the low sound rumbling in his chest. “Anything for you, omega. Anything for you.”
🥃 A leaves baked goods for B anonymously, but B already knows that it’s A. with wanda maximoff
her secret admirer ✧ wanda maximoff
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request: 🥃 A leaves baked goods for B anonymously, but B already knows that it’s A. with wanda maximoff - annab-nana
pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader
word count: 319
warnings?: fluff, not proofread.
Wanda watched as you flit around the compound’s kitchen, pulling out bowls and measuring cups and the various ingredients you needed. She could practically smell the sweet aroma of your cookies, even if you hadn’t even begun mixing up the batter, much less transferring it to the oven. And, oh, she was sure that they would taste just as delicious. They always did.
For the last month, you had been dropping off a tupperware full of cookies with a note saying “for an angel, xoxo your secret admirer” outside her bedroom door. You’d set them down, knock on the door, then take off down the hall, just barely ducking into your room before she would come out. And she would take the cookies, eat them, and return the tupperware to the floor outside her door with a note thanking her secret admirer for the baked goods.
She had known it was you from the moment she got the first batch of cookies. You were one of the few members of the team who even knew how to use the kitchen. Between you, Sam, Nat, and Bucky, it was quite easy to narrow things down. Sam tended to favor savory foods. Bucky exclusively cooked out of cookbook from the 20’s. Nat was an amazing cook, but suffered in terms of baked goods. You were the only option left, and the only option she wanted.
Wanda wondered how long it take for you to work up the courage to say something. For such a badass hero, you were so shy when you were at home. It was cute, endearing. It made Wanda wonder what you’d be like when you open up.
But she wouldn’t push you. So, for now, she returned to her room, knowing that within a few hours, there would be cookies outside her door. And, some day, hopefully soon, you would be waiting on the other side.
✨ + “You can be angry at me all you want. I'm doing this to protect you”
With Poe Dameron pls
following orders ✧ poe dameron
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request: ✨✨ + “You can be angry at me all you want. I'm doing this to protect you” With Poe Dameron pls - @tumblin-theworldaway
pairing: poe dameron x fem!reader
word count: 472
warnings?: light angst, fluff, not proofread
“Why the hell would you do that!?” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him.
“I was following orders.” His tone was clipped, as he was trying his damned hardest to keep his emotions at bay. He wouldn’t look directly at you, his gaze trained to the space just beyond you. Perhaps if he looked at you, his hardened shell would crack. Perhaps if he looked at you, he would crumble.
“Right. Because you’re so well known for following orders,” you scoffed. “After all, you didn’t get demoted because you disobeyed direct orders. That must have been another pilot I’m thinking of. ‘Cause it surely isn’t you! I actually like that other pilot! The one standing in front of me? I don’t know him, and I don’t really care to know him.”
Poe tilted his head back, looking up at the ceiling, his eyes falling shut. “Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what? Tell you how stupid you were being?!” You jabbed your finger at his chest, your voice a near growl. “I can take care of myself. I know that, and I know that you know that. So I don’t understand why you’re doing all this, acting like I’m some damsel in distress, but it better stop today! Understand!?”
You started to walk past him, your shoulder hitting his. Maker, all you wanted to do was crash in your bunk, pretend that this day from hell hadn’t happened. But then you felt warm fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging you to a stop. You stood there, staring down the hall, refusing to turn around. You couldn’t look at him. If you looked at him, you would crumble.
“You can be angry at me all you want. I’m doing this to protect you.” His voice was soft, you almost turned around. But you needed to stand your ground. You would not crack. “I know you can take care yourself. I know that better than anyone. But this…This time was different. I almost lost you, Y/N. And I don’t want to think about what will become of me if I lost you.”
“You’d move on. You’d have to,” you said. “The Resistance would need you to move on.”
“I wouldn’t want to.”
“You can’t say things like that, Poe. You’re going to make me think you care.”
“What if I did?”
“Did what?”
“Care. What if I cared?” Poe circled around you, standing in front of you now. “Because I do. I care more than I could ever describe.”
“…then I would say that we need to talk about this,” you said. “Because I care about you, too. But first…Let’s find something to eat.”
His mouth quirked up to a smile. “It’s a date.”
“Mm, not yet pretty boy,” you said, laughing quietly. “Gotta make you work a little harder for that.”
🥃 “You don’t have to hide your tears from me.” + steve rogers
no tears left to cry ✧ steve rogers
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request: 🥃 “You don’t have to hide your tears from me.” + steve rogers - annab-nana
pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader
word count: 307
warnings?: light angst, fluff, not proofread
You were used to not showing your emotions. As a trained spy, it was quite literally a matter of life and death if you dared to drop your emotionless façade. You avoided quirks of your lip, wrinkles of your nose, crinkles of your eyes. You could even avoid flashes of anger or hurt in your eyes. That, of course, didn’t mean that you particularly enjoyed hiding your emotions. But…well, it was all you knew.
Being with Steve, though…Well, he started to chip away at your walls. Being with him, it made you more comfortable with expressing your emotions around him. You let love flood in your eyes. You allowed a smile to grace your face. You didn’t suppress your laughter.
But this…He couldn’t see this. Steve couldn’t see this, the tears rolling down your cheeks, the sobs wracking your body. It would only hurt him to see you like this. You couldn’t hurt Steve. You just couldn’t. And yet…He found you anyways.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, kneeling in front of where you sat on the bathroom floor. He collected you in his arms, pulling you into his lap, holding you tightly. “What’s the matter? You can tell me.”
“No, no, you can’t see me like this!” you said, trying to wiggle your way out of his arms.
“Y/N…You don’t have to hide your tears from me. You don’t have to hide anything from me,” he said, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Please, let me help you.”
“I-I just need to cry,“ you said. “Please, don’t make a big deal out of this.”
“Okay,” he said, “as long as you let me hold you.”
And so you sat there, on the bathroom floor, crying your eyes out, until there were no tears left to cry.
(My prompt takes place in the Ex-Machina universe where Kyoko and Ava still exist. Perhaps this is something occurring canonically in the movie, minus Caleb, where the AI’s try to kill Nathan but reader saves him instead.)
You can also ignore my parentheses section above if you so choose and have fun! Never want to diminish anyone’s creative ideas. That’s just where my initial thought process went to.
💕 Thank you for all your contributions. Hopefully I did this right? 😂
bleeding love ✧ nathan bateman
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request: 🥃 + “If I survive this, I'm requesting hazard pay.” + Nathan Bateman. (My prompt takes place in the Ex-Machina universe where Kyoko and Ava still exist. Perhaps this is something occurring canonically in the movie, minus Caleb, where the AI’s try to kill Nathan but reader saves him instead.) You can also ignore my parentheses section above if you so choose and have fun! Never want to diminish anyone’s creative ideas. That’s just where my initial thought process went to. 💕 Thank you for all your contributions. Hopefully I did this right? 😂 - the-infamous-coat-of-baron-zemo
pairing: nathan bateman x fem!reader
word count: 592
warnings?: implied character death, angst, ambiguous ending, not proofread
When Nathan Bateman asked you to come work for him out of his secluded mansion, two thoughts ran through your head: (1) this was easily the most important move you would ever make in your entire career; and (2) if there were ever a chance that you would be murdered, this was it. Granted, back then, you thought you’d be murdered by Nathan. After all, it’s always the eccentric billionaire types that commit the crimes, isn’t it? And being asked to move to the middle of the woods? Where you had to hike a mile into the woods to even reach the damn house because he refused to let anyone see it? Yeah. Yeah, if you were going to die a gruesome death, you were sure it would be by his hands. You never expected that it would be a fucking AI that would take you out.
Nathan had brought you to his mansion to look over his code. He never really told you what the code was for, only ever gave you bits and pieces to look over. It was interesting, working with Nathan. He was incredibly dedicated to his craft, and you admired that. Really, actually, you admired him. Sure, the man was rough around the edges. But he made you laugh, he respected your intelligence, often asking for your opinions on his work, even if it wasn’t technically in your job description just because he valued your opinion. And then, of course, were the dance parties. God, you’d never seen a man more attractive than him.
Then—he finished his work. Or, at least, got to the point where you could see what he was doing. He’d been working on AI, and he wanted you to judge his latest project, Ava, to see whether she was genuinely capable of thought and consciousness. And it had been going well.
That is, until you realized Nathan had built an AI who wanted to kill you and him and join the real world.
Well, actually, you don’t know if she wanted to kill you. She was trying to kill Nathan, but you had jumped in the way of her blade and suddenly you were the one collapsing to the floor.
“DON’T YOU FUCKING TOUCH HER!” Nathan shouted, striking Ava in the head with…something. You couldn’t quite see. All you could see was a decapitated Ava falling beside you, Nathan falling to his knees, pressing his hand into your stomach, shouting at Kyoko to get the first aid kit.
“If I survive this…” you started to say.
“Shh, save your energy,” Nathan said. “And don’t talk like that. You’re going to be fine. You’ll be fine.”
“…I’m requesting hazard pay,” you finished. You placed your hand on top of Nathan’s, patting it slightly. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. Don’t feel like you have some duty to me.”
“Of course I have a duty to you.You’re my employe, and you’re my…” Nathan sighed, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment. As he gazed down at you, you could see him holding back tears. “I’m not good at this sort of thing. I really care about you, Y/N—”
“Shh, I know,” you said. “You don’t have to say anything. I, uh, think I’m gonna close my eyes for a sec. I’m really sleepy.”
“No, no, don’t—”
But all you could focus on was how heavy your eyes felt. You just needed to close them for a second. That’s all. You just needed a second. And then it all faded to back.
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request: ✨ + 41. Did you always know that you are going to leave? & 46. I'm not good enough for you, aren't I? with Marc Spector please! It's from the darkloadofthesimp prompt list. Like the reader found out that marc is leaving her because she found out about layla or something idk if its allowed to ask for one shot/fic/blurb containing two prompts, but if its not, then you can pick anything out of the two 🏼 so excited for your sleepover event!! 💥🏼 Love your blog babes ❤️ - @jakelcckley
pairing: marc spector x fem!reader
summary: things have changed, and you must let him go. it's for the best.
word count: 1,038
warnings?: angst, break up, not proofread
THE BEST FOR YOU (PART 2)
Marc was different. He had been different for some time now. You had been blaming it on Khonshu, the god who had saved his life at the cost of Marc having to serve him. Now, Marc was having to fight Khonshu’s fights, being dragged across the world, coming back to you more battered and bruised than you had ever seen him before. He was constantly exhausted, collapsing on the bed when he finally got home. You almost never saw him anymore. It almost felt like you were more like strangers than a couple these days.
It weighed heavily on your heart. You had thought that you and Marc would be together forever. Perhaps never married, you weren’t sure Marc was the marrying type. But you always thought it would be the two of you. Now though…You weren’t so sure.
And, as you saw notification after notification from a woman named Layla pop up on his phone, you began to realize why he might not be as close to you as before. The messages coming through were innocent, but…When you saw the smiley face emoji beside her name, knowing that Marc was never the type of person to use emojis at all, it left you with a sinking feeling in your stomach.
“What’s on your mind?” Marc asked. No term of endearment. No baby. Not even a hint of love in his voice. Maybe you were strangers now.
You looked up at him. Water dripped from his hair—had he taken a shower? He used to always invite you to take a shower with him, even if you didn’t always agree. He loved to wiggle his eyebrows at you, tug you close to him, whisper in your ear that it was very important to save water.
Clearing your throat, you glanced back at the phone, raising it for him to see. Your heart sunk a little when some of the color drained from his face. “Someone named Layla was texting you. I was about to find you to let you know, seemed important.”
“Oh.” He held the phone tightly when you handed it to him. “We’ve started working together. She…Her father was one of the people who I…It’s—”
“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain anything to me,” you said. Except, you kind of wanted him to continue. To confirm your suspicions. You knew Marc would be the type to cheat, at least not physically, but you could tell his heart no longer lied with you.
“Nothing’s going on between me and Layla.”
“I never said there was.” You glanced back down at your lap. “But, I do have a question for you.”
Marc gave a curt nod. “Shoot.”
“I’m not good enough for you, aren’t I? Not anymore, anyways.”
When you glanced back up, he was staring down at his feet. And that was all you needed to know.
“It’s okay. I kind of saw this coming, if I’m being honest.” You rose to your feet, stepping closer to him. You took his face in your hands, lifting his head so he would look at you. “I mean, it does still hurt. But, I can’t make you stay somewhere that doesn’t make you happy.”
“You used to make me happy. I used to only feel happy when I was with you,” Marc said. It was hard to look into his tear-filled eyes, but you did. You knew you would probably never look into them again. “It’s just…”
“You don’t have to explain. Really, I mean it. Some people just grow apart. That’s life. I won’t fault you for that, because neither of us are at fault.”
Marc shook his head, a tear slipping down his cheek. “We didn’t drift apart, though,” he said. And you knew that was true. You just hated for him to feel bad. You hated for him to feel guilty. Even as he had been breaking your heart, you didn’t want to break his. “I pushed you away. I’ve been pushing you away for a long time. I-I never wanted you to be hurt, and I knew that being Khonshu’s avatar—”
“It’s okay, hon—Marc. It really is. I—” But you couldn’t keep lying anymore. Not to yourself, and not to him. Shaking your head, you asked, “Did you know? Did you always know that you were going to leave?”
“I never wanted to leave you,” Marc said. “But so much has happened. So much has changed. And I can’t let you get hurt.”
And you hated yourself as you asked, “But, you can let Layla get hurt?”
“Layla can take care of herself.”
You tried to ignore the edge in his voice. The sort of protectiveness he used to hold towards you. “And I can’t.”
“It’s not—”
“That’s alright. I mean, it’s not a lie. I’d probably break all of the bones in my hand if I threw a punch. I’d sooner drop a gun before I could shoot it. If Layla’s working with you, clearly she can fight. She’s not someone you have to look after, to protect. She’s capable where I’m not. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up. She doesn’t have anything to do with this.” You cleared your throat again. “I’m sorry things are ending like this. I’ll just get my things and go.”
“Y/N, you don’t have to leave—”
“It’s your place. Your name on the lease. If anyone should leave, it’s me.” You took a step back, letting go of him. You turned to find your bag, grabbing some of the things you had strewn about up. “I will miss you, you know.”
“I’ll miss you, too.” Marc said. He sniffled slightly. “And I love you. I’ll always love you.”
You paused for a moment. “You don’t have to. Love me always, I mean.”
“I know, but I will.”
You didn’t say anything more, not wanting to argue anymore. And neither did Marc. By the time you finished shoving your belongings into a bag, he was gone. Sighing, you left the apartment, hoping that he would be okay. Because, even if Marc broke your heart, you still only wanted the best for him.
