a collection of blurbs and headcanons from my tumblr, starryevermore.
ft. steven grant, marc spector, and jake lockley
[18+ MINORS DNI - INCLUDES EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT]
request: 🥃 marc spector and "I've never felt this way before, and truthfully it scares me. But, the idea of never trying scares me even more." - annab-nana
pairing: marc spector x fem!reader
word count: 753
warnings?: angst, not proofread
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It was a bit of an isolating life, being a mercenary. Never really put down any roots. Friends were hard to come by. You hadn't seen or spoken to your family in years. Most days, the only communication you had was with whoever hired you. But, that was the life you had chosen. You previously had been an agent of SHIELD, but after the organization fell when it was revealed that HYDRA had long since been hiding in the ranks, you knew you had little choice as to your career. The government was entirely keen on hiring SHIELD agents in the immediate aftermath, hoping to avoid any allegations of being HYDRA sympathizers. A lot of agents went on to work with the Avengers. That was what your former SO, Maria Hill, had done. But you had little faith in the longevity of the Avengers. Tensions were high since its inception, and it was only a matter of time before it crumbled, too. And so it did. Becoming a hired gun was really and truly your only option, given your particular skillset.
Eventually, though, things became less lonely. Meeting Marc Spector was not intended. But the man who hired you, hired him. Said something about needing the two of you to work together, that your individual skillsets were not exactly what he needed but combined, it would get the job done. Marc, like you, was the lone wolf type. It was not easy to get along together. It was a lot of fighting. It was a lot of going against the other. It was a lot of work. Yet, after the target was taken out, you were surprised to find him asking you to work with him permanently and you were even more surprised to find yourself agreeing.
Marc soon became your best friend. You would trust him with your life, and you often did. In this line of work, if you couldn't trust your partner, what was the point of having one? But...Well, it started to feel like it was more than just a friendship. The longer you spend with him, the more your mind started to wander. Started to consider what it may be like to be in a relationship with him.
The dreams of a white picket fence life had long since died, but...Well, Marc made you hopeful for something more. And so, you had to try.
"I need to tell you something," you said to Marc as the two of you packed after a successful mission. He looked up at you, telling you to go ahead. "I like you. A lot. At first, I thought it was some little crush but...The longer I've been with you, the stronger my feelings grew. I've never felt this way before, and truthfully it scares me. But, the idea of never trying scares me even more. So, I wanted to just ask...Would you like to go on a date with me?"
Marc looked back to his duffel. He didn't say anything immediately. Suddenly, your heart was falling straight to your stomach. "Y/N..." he started.
"I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you that," you said. You zipped up your own duffel, throwing the strap over your shoulder. You turned away from him, so he wouldn't see you cry. "Forget I even asked."
"I wouldn't be good for you," he said.
"I don't care about that. Do you think I would be doing this work if I cared about what was good for me?" You turned back around, wanting to see him when you asked your next question. "Be honest. Do you like me the way I like you? If you don't, I'll drop this. I'll never bring it up again. We can forget this moment ever happened."
Marc swallowed hard. He wouldn't meet your gaze. "I think it's better if we go our separate ways after this."
"That doesn't answer my question."
"I don't like you."
At all, you wanted to ask? Not even as a friend? As a partner? Had you misread everything? But, instead of asking the questions running through your head, you said, "Well, thank you for letting me know. I won't bother you again."
"Wait—" he started to say as you began to leave.
"There's nothing left to say, Marc. Goodbye."
And with every step you took, your heart broke more. Once again, you were left with nothing. Perhaps that was all you deserved. Perhaps this was as good as it was going to get.
