Marc Spector Angst - Tumblr Posts

𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 | 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐜 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫

pairing: marc spector x fem!reader

summary: you rarely fought, but when you did it got pretty bad.

warning: angst that turns into fluff

a/n: requests are open!

not my gif!

.°•*♡

you rarely fought, but when you did, it got pretty bad. hurtful things were being said left and right and that meant marc left the apartment fuming and you with a broken heart.

tonight was one of the nights where a fight was inevitable. marc stumbled into the apartment and an unholy hour of the night, he was beaten up and bruised and he didn't even bother to tell you how or where it had happened. he simply brushed off your questions and made his way into the bathroom.

"marc, would you just answer me!"

he grumbled and took off his shirt exposing a big scar that went from his ribs near to his navel. taking out the first aid kid that was under the sink; he grabbed some cotton and rubbing alcohol. hissing at the pain you looked away.

"what happened?" you tried again but still no answer. "marc, please i'm worried about you."

"then stop!" he hissed at you and slammed the bathroom door in your face. you gulped down the lump that was forming in your throat and walked away from the door.

you went into the kitchen and boiled some hot water, taking a mug out of the cupboard and a teabag of one of marc's favorite tea. after the water boiled you poured it into the mug and left it on the table. you also took his food out of the oven and placed it next to the tea with a fork and a knife.

when you were done you made your way into the bedroom, taking off the clothes from the day before and putting on one of marc's shirts and sweats, you also grabbed a pillow and a blanket from the linen closet making your way to the guest bedroom.

you heard marc move around in the kitchen, then you heard his plate being put in the sink, then you heard his footsteps going past the guest bedroom into the bedroom, then quickly turning around and coming to the guest bedroom.

he knocked softly, you probably wouldn't have heard it if you weren't focusing on every move he made. when you didn't answer he opened the door and leaned against the door frame.

"i know you're awake," he said but you only turned your back towards him. you didn't want to fight with him. you just cared about him. you just worried about him. all you wanted was an explanation.

marc moved towards the bed and sat down at the foot of the bed. "can you please come back to bed?"

no response.

"i'm sorry i lashed out on you."

again, no response.

"i know you worry about me, and i know i don't always appreciate it, but i do, i really do," he told you, rubbing a hand up and down your leg. he hoped that would pull something out of you but it didn't.

your eyes brimmed with tears, "honey, please. i'm sorry."

you only nodded. he climbed in behind you, pulling you flat against his chest. he kissed your shoulder to where your shoulder and neck connected and then behind your ear.

"i'm sorry," he whispered, his breath tickling your ear.

you turned around, "i care about you, i worry about you and i love you so much that if i lost you without knowing where or how it happened i wouldn't be able to live with myself."

"i know honey, i'm sorry. i'll try to be better at communicating with you."

you nodded, your thumb running over his cheek bone and light stuble. marc kissed your palm and then pulled you in to kiss your lips.

"i love you too," he said between kisses.

you smiled, "we can go back to bed now, it's kinda uncomfortable on a twin size bed."

marc chuckled and stood up taking your hand and leading you to the bedroom.

My love, mine all mine.

Summary: Marc and you had been childhood sweethearts, then he suddenly got colder and colder until he randomly left one night. You thought you’d never see him again, until one lonesome night where you meet the love of your life again.

Pairings: Marc Spector x reader. Warnings and whatnots: Unhappy ending, angst.

You stare longingly at the photo in your hand. Photographed nicely in the worn out and crumpled polaroid were you and your former lover, Marc Spector. You smile sombrely.

“Come on just one photo Marc!” You shouted into the wind that blew on your clothes, you were all smiles.

Marc looked at you, his usual grumpy expression painted his face. Yet, you saw something soften in his features. He raises a finger.

“Fine!” He shouted back. “Only one!”

He had quickly grabbed onto your body, bringing you closer as he took the polaroid camera in your hand. You lean closer to him, grinning as you had managed to convince him. He rolls his eye before smiling at the photo.

It was the last day you had seen each other, a calm before the storm. You still talked to each other on the phone afterwards but it was less talking and more arguing. You were frustrated and he didn’t seem to care, until one day he just stopped responding.

A week later, you stopped calling.

~

You never really got over him, evidently as you sit in the park outside a bar, on New Years, looking at the photo of him. You sigh and shiver at the cold night. You look at the bar behind you. Your friend had invited you out and they were too busy getting drunk to notice you leave. You sigh as you look at your watch, realising it was way too late to be out and that you should probably bring your blasted friend home.

You step into the bar, scouting out your friend. You furrow your eyebrows as you search for her, finally spotting them taking shots with a random guy. They see you and smile widely, waving and shouting at you to wait a bit. You shake your head, laughing at their behaviour.

You take a seat at the bar and look around the bar, until your eyes landed on a man seated at the counter. Your eyes widen as you see him. Was it actually..?

He sensed you looking at him and quickly raised his head, you look away, not wanting to make eye contact.

Your heart raced when you saw him. You had to get out of there. Your heart was conflicted, not knowing if you wanted to leave or speak to him. To see him and spill your heart out. You quickly stood up from your chair, pushing your way to your friend who was laughing widely. You grab their arm, telling them you had to leave but they don’t listen, waving your arm off.

Marc watched you from the bar, watching as you try your best to convince your friend to leave with you. Did he cause that? Were you that hurt by him that you cannot even stand to be in the same vicinity as him? He felt a pang of guilt hit his heart as he thought about how he had left you. He had heard about you sobbing and crying day and night from people but he could never come back and see you.

He purses his lips, you had shown him what his heart was worth. He would have died for you. He would have killed for you. Yet, he had left you. What kind of man was he? Leaving you just like that.

He observes you as you finally give up on your friend and head outside. His heart and head argued, not knowing if he should follow you or not. He desperately wanted to talk to you.

“Talk to her.” The bartender says, giving him a shot of vodka. “For the nerves.” He explains.

Marc looks at the bartender then at the shot. He inhales before grabbing the shot and downing it. He psychs himself up for the worst as he exits the bar.

You hear the door open and you turn your head, not expecting to have seen him. He looks at you, giving a small awkward smile. He hadn’t aged a day physically, and you hadn’t aged a day mentally. Your heart fluttered as he moves to stand next to you.

“Cigarette?” He says, offering you a pack. Your eyes fill with sadness. Maybe this really wasn’t Marc…

“I… No thanks…” You say politely.

The only sound that was heard was the wind rustling the leaves and the crickets chirping in the bushes. For you, you could here your heart throbbing and breaking everything he breathed.

“I…” You started to say before he quickly cut you off.

“I never meant to leave you like that…” He says. “It was just… I had a lot of things that I had to do and I just… couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t risk you.”

“Marc… You promised me. We’d go through everything together, why would this be any different?”

“I couldn’t get you hurt,”

“I couldn’t get you hurt, not you..” He says, sighing. “you are too important.”

“I… I spent so much time wondering what I did wrong and you suddenly waltz right back into my life, blabbing about how you didn’t want me to get hurt?” You say, a tinge of anger lacing your voice.

“No- I won’t accept that. If you didn’t want me to get hurt, you wouldn’t have left me. You wouldn’t be here in front of me, after leaving me all those years ago!”

“I… I really loved you Marc, and I still do… But, you can’t make those decisions for me. I’m grateful you want to protect me but, I need to learn to protect myself. With you.”

Marc stares at you wide eye as you put your hand up to his cheek. The corner of his eyes well up with tears and you felt your heart shatter. You pull away from his cheek.

“I’m sorry. I just- I couldn’t…” He starts but you just smile at him.

“My rides here.” You say, looking back at the bar where your friend still was. You hoped they would get home safe. You look at Marc. You hope he would get home safe.

“Goodbye Marc.” You say, and he watched you go.

He watched as you disappear into the distance like the moon at the end of the night, and the sun at the end of the day. You were his moon, and you always would be.

Ghost Of You (Marc Spector x GN!Avenger!Reader)

summary: y/n dies at Vormir instead of Nat

wc: ~1k

content: poor attempt at angst, mentions of y/n’s death, mentions of the blip, steven and jake are not part of the fic, marc is not the moon knight when y/n dies

Pov: second person

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the split of the Avengers, everyone that was on Steve’s team, you being one of them, was either in prison or on the run from S.H.I.E.L.D and the United States government. You were on the run. Those stupid accords had caused you to flee the country, and move to London. Granted, a more secluded country would’ve been more safe, however, moving to London had always been a dream of yours. While in London, you met Marc Spector, the most handsome man you had ever seen in your life. You were wearing your Led Zepplin shirt when you met. The same one you wore when you fled the United States. You and Marc eventually fell in love with each other and got married. A small courthouse wedding that was just the two of you. No guests. It was all you could’ve asked for. 

One night while you were laying in bed with Marc, you got a call from an unknown number. You looked at each other with confusion before you answered and put it on speaker phone. You and Marc looked at each other before you finally spoke up, “Hello?” You asked with slight fear in your phone. You jumped a little when the voice responded. It was your best friend, Nat.

“Y/N, I need you to come to Wakanda. It’s an emergency,” She said before hanging up.

“Who was that?” Marc asked.

“An old friend, and I guess she needs my help.”

“Do you know when you’ll be back?”

“No,” you sighed, “but until then, you’ll be just fine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The surviving Avengers in Wakanda took you back home in the Quinjet. You just sat there in silence, thinking about Marc. Wondering if he was one of the unlucky people to turn into dust. When you walked up to your front door, it was locked. You ran the doorbell hoping that Marc was there to open it, and he was. You lunged into his arms, crying as you told him everything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Five years later Nat decided to visit you. Her hair had grown longer and her natural red was conquering the dyed blonde. As the two of you were eating lunch at a small café, she brought up that the Avengers might have a way to bring everyone back and that they wanted you to help. You agreed and immediately headed home to tell Marc. Just like last time, Marc asked, “Do you know when you’ll be back?”

“No,” you sighed, “but until then, you’ll be just fine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Little did Marc know, that would be the last time he would see you in person. Steve had delivered the news about your death to him. Everyone wanted Nat to, but she felt like it was her fault that you died. She told you about bringing everyone back. She went to Vormir with you and left with the Soul Stone, but not you. It was nobody’s fault that you died. Marc was understanding that Nat wasn’t the one to tell him. Out of all the Avengers, she was grieving the most. You two were the closest after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One morning Marc decided that he was going to clean up the house. He put on your favourite playlist, and started with your coffee mug that was on the coffee table in the living room. It had been sitting there, unfinished, for months. The same mug you were drinking out of when Nat had arrived to London. Marc sighed, as he picked up the mug. Your pink lipstick stain had slowly been fading away over time. He put it away before heading to the garage to clean out old  boxes. He found a box that had your name on it, and opened it to see what the box had contained. Digging through, he found old photos of you and the Avengers, and below it all was your Zepplin t-shirt. Marc wiped a tear from his eye as he remembered that you wearing this shirt when you met, and how you told him it was the same one you wore when fleeing the states. Marc dropped the shirt in his lap and sat on the garage floor for what felt like hours before he heard the faint sound of your favourite song coming from the living room speakers. It was A Man Without Love by Engelbert Humperdinck. He got up and headed to living room to slowly sway with the song. It reminded him of you. The lyrics, and the fact that it was the song that was playing when Marc proposed. That was why it was your favorite song.

 “Every day I wake up, then I start to break up

Lonely is a man without love

Every day I start out, then I cry my heart out

Lonely is a man without love”

You played the song so often that one day Marc asked you to turn it off. He had started to get sick of it, however now, he felt as if he would never get sick of it. He turned it up and danced around the house pretending that you were singing the song, and dancing with him. That night, Marc decided to sleep in your shared bed, instead of on the couch like he had been for the past few months. He took your Zepplin shirt, placed it on your side of the bed, and put on A Man Without Love. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Within the next week, Marc visited your grave for the first time. He finally had some closure over your death. He placed down a bouquet of lavenders as he sat down,  telling you what he had been up to.

“So I drown it out like I always do,” he said through tears. “Dancing through our house, with the ghost of you.”

“And I chase it down with a shot of truth, that my feet don’t dance like they did with you.”