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petertingle-yipyip · 22 days

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NEVER FELT SO ALONE - MARC SPECTOR

Pairing: Marc x Reader

Word Count: 2,579

Summary (Request): hey!! i just finished moon knight and was wondering if can request a marc spector x reader fic or basically all of the moon knight boys where marc cheats on the reader so she doesnt get hurt and by cheating on her there would be no questions or suspicions coming from the reader n all. (basically same way how marc tries to divorce layla but she ended up finding out the truth in d end) angst with happy ending pls <33

//i don’t like cheating tropes so i didn’t actually have marc cheat and also… marc spector brainrot. love it. him and matty have permanent spaces in my brain//

“He’s been gone too long.” You paced your living room with your phone in your hand.

You were speaking to yourself, of course, given that your boyfriend was out on the town yet again doing God knew what. You knew he kept secrets, he always had. Just getting him to talk about what music he liked or what movies he liked was like pulling teeth. But of course, it wasn’t always like that. There were more goods than bads so you were willing to put up with his distance and fight and poke and prode to get him to tell you something of substance because he knew you.

He loved to hear you talk about your life. Your childhood, family and friends, work. He liked to hear you talk about your favorite shows and books, ranting about what stupid things your beloved fictional characters were doing and how you knew they were smarter than that. He asked you about school and sometimes brought food to your campus if he had time before he disappeared on some job. He’d leave a few hidden notes before he left too - usually under your pillow, in your wallet, and under your favorite bowl. You once found a note between pages of your book, his own anticipation of how far you’d get while he was gone.

Problem this time around was that there were no notes this time. There was no text or voicemail. There was no explanation. Admittedly, it happened sometimes. Sometimes it was so sudden he didn’t have time to let you know anything, but even then, he was never gone that long.

This time around, before he left, you noticed some odd things. You noticed more hushed conversations, hidden phone messages, darting glances, looking over his shoulder. He spoke even less than usual, as if he was building a wall between you two. Looking to put distance. You noticed his phone was being turned off when he left the house and a few times during his absence, you could’ve sworn you’d seen him running into the local museum.

Usually you could shrug off his odd behavior because, overall, Marc Spector was an odd man. You knew his life had been challenging and naturally, it closed him off in some regards. But shutting you out completely, going radio silence at the drop of a hat, that just wasn’t like him.

So you did some digging.

Given his phone was off, you couldn’t track any sort of locations from there. You didn’t know who he worked with when he left, save for one woman named Layla who was often as off grid as he was, so you couldn’t ask anyone. He hardly talked about family and you weren’t even sure he had friends other than you so that was a dead end. The only real starting point you had was that museum.

When your last class ended, you hopped on the crowded bus and headed over. You were welcomed by the man at the front security booth and wandered the vast space. You had to squeeze past tour groups and couples on dates, kids running around with novelty swords and replica headpieces. You squeezed between people until you found a bench that allowed you to breathe, despite the heavy crowd. You hadn’t expected it to be quite as busy and you were so tired. Just as you were about to give up, you saw him.

The spitting image of the man you loved. Only his clothes were different, baggier and plainer. His curls fell across his forehead more and he seemed to hold hismelf shorter than Marc. Maybe it wasn’t him after all.

You sighed to yourself and headed towards the exit, catching a small snippet of his voice. It was softer, tinted with an almost fake accent, with more inflictions than Marc had. You shook your head slightly as you headed out, trying to clear the idea of the doppleganger from your head but the notion seemed to keep you around the museum. You found yourself sitting on the steps outside, near a streetlight so you could try some of the assignment you needed to finish. You hadn’t even realized how long you had been there until your headphones beeped in your ears that their battery was low.

As you were putting the headphones into your bag, you noticed Marc’s doppelganger heading to the nearby bus stop. He noticed you at the same time and made his way over to you, which made your body run hot for a moment.

“Hello.” He smiled slightly. “I, uh- I saw you inside. Can I ask why you’re still out here?”

“Yeah, it looks a little weird, huh?” You laughed, trying to contain the whirlwind of thoughts set off by the man’s voice. It was so strange to hear such a soft, relatively hesitant tone coming from a face that you knew to be much more confident. “I just thought I saw someone I’ve been looking for… Turns out it wasn’t him.”

“Old friend?”

“Boyfriend, actually.”

“Oh…” He nervously wrung his hands and you almost laughed at how out of character that movement seemed. “Wait, why are you looking for your boyfriend?”

“No reason.” You shrugged. “Just thought I saw him.”

“Right… Well, are you alright to get home? It’s not like a… “we’re in a fight and he kicked me out” situation?”

At that, you did laugh.

“I’m alright, thanks.” You shook your head with a smile. “But if you hear about a guy named Marc coming around, tell him Y/N needs to talk to him, yeah?”

“Marc? Uh.. Alright, yeah. Yeah, okay. You said Y/N?”

“Mhmm…”

“Have we…”

Your brows raised while the gears turned in his head. His eyes darted around your face, down to your clothes and back to your eyes while he tried to put the pieces together. He opened his mouth to say something before he shook his head, seemingly confusing himself in the process.

“You okay over there?” You asked carefully, leaning in slightly for your own examination.

“Yeah, just… I don’t know. Deja vu maybe.”

“Hmm.” You nodded and leaned away. “What’s your name, anyway?”

“Steven.” He tapped the pocket of his jacket and you saw a little pinsized hole for where you assumed his nametag usually sat. “Steven Grant.”

“Cool.” You said simply. But you recognized that name as one of the characters that Marc told you about, from one of the things he used to watch with his brother that turned into their own little roleplaying game. And maybe it was a coincidence but something was strange. “See you around, Steven.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

A few days went by before you saw him again. You had tried going by the museum but he wasn’t there. You even asked the man who watched the cameras and he said that Steven - though he called him by some unrelated name - hadn’t been in since the night you met him. You were at another dead end.

You wandered the streets when you got a vague text with an address. It was an unknown number and the relatively common text style gave you no clues. Automatically you assumed it was Marc from a burner phone. Who else would it have been? With as much of a hurry as you could without drawing extra attention, you made your way to the apartment.

You gave a quick knock to the door and it popped open, seemingly on its own since no one was on the other side to greet you. You wandered the cramped space, finding a bed in the center of a sand circle, books stacked on books on every table, a small trashcan overflowing with crumpled balls of tape, A vast fishtank stood in the middle of the room and you leaned in to see the fish, a small thing missing a fin, and caught glimpse of the man watching you from the other side. His near sudden appearance made you jump and bump your head against the glass.

You mumbled an apology to the fish as he scurried to another corner of the tank and you stood straighter.

“You’re the one who texted me?” You asked simply, not wanting to take a guess if it was Marc or Steven that stood before you.

“Yeah.” He said in the same plain tone and you didn’t catch any accent. It was definitely Marc. “Heard you were looking for me.”

“Wouldn’t have to look if you would’ve told me where you were going or that you were alive, at least.”

“”Yeah... I never meant to worry you.”

“Clearly.” Your brows raised quickly. “Nice place.”

“It’s not mine.”

You made a small noise in your throat before wandering the space a bit more. You peaked through some of the books, finding a book of French poems by a woman who you knew Marc didn’t read. But someone Marc knew and worked with did.

“This Layla’s place?” You asked simply, swallowing the rising bile in your throat.

“Layla?” He asked, arms crossing over his chest but not moving from his spot. “What makes you say that?”

“The French poems.” You said honestly. “Not to mention all the Egyptian stuff, you having a fake accent and working at the museum in the Egypt wing… It’s a lot to do just to be a good partner.”

“Right… Look, about all of that..”

“You didn’t answer my question.” You cut in firmly.

“I’m trying to.”

“No you’re not. You’re avoiding. You’re choosing a piece of what I said rather than the actual important part.”

“This isn’t Layla’s place, okay?” He rolled his eyes slightly.

“So this is your place?”

“Sort of.”

“Sort of.” You repeated with a scoff. “Right. So, what, it belongs to that fake persona I talked to a few nights ago.”

“Fake?”

“Steven. Come on, that accent? And he’s named after that thing you told me from you and your brother… Did you think I was stupid?”

“What do you think is going on?” His brows furrowed.

“Well, I have a couple working theories.” You said with a shrug as you dropped to sit on the edge of the bed. “One is that you’ve been cloned. You know the American government, doing experiments with soldiers and not telling them.”

That one made Marc chuckle.

“Not a clone, baby.” He smirked. “But keep going.”

“Okay, good to know.” You nodded. “Second is that you’re just working.”

“That all?”

“Well there’s the idea that you’re cheating on me but…”

“But what?”

“But if that was true then I’d have to leave your ass and I don’t really want to do that. Which is why you’re gonna tell me right now if that’s the case or not.”

“And who would this mystery woman be?”

“Layla.” You shrugged.

“Layla?” His brows raised incredulously, almost insulted that you would say that.

“You have her favorite poet on your desk, Marc. You two constantly go off on little excavations and jobs. She’s cute, fiery, not afraid of challenge, just your type really. Not to mention, you’ve been pretty close since you met.”

“You know why we met.”

“Yeah but did you ever tell her? I bet she wouldn’t fuck you if she knew you killed her dad.”

“Wow.” His eyes went wide. “You had that one ready, didn’t you?”

“Well you’ve been gone for a while. I had some time to come up with some good ones.”

“Y’know what…” He pushed his tongue against his cheek with a small scoff, as if something just came to him. “Yeah.. Yeah, I’ve been sleeping with Layla. Every time I ‘go to work’ I’m just meeting with her.”

“Hmm, funny.” You offered a sarcastic expression. “Just tell me what’s really going on.”

“I just did.”

“And I don’t believe you.”

“Course you don’t.” He mumbled and ran a hand down his face.

“Wanna say that again?” You challenged sharply, daring to close the distance between you two. You glared up at him, ignoring the fact that the height difference made you less intimidating than you were aiming for, but you stuck to your guns. “Or do you want to say something else?”

“I love you.” He put his hands on your shoulders and turned you around. “But there’s the door.”

“You son of a bitch.” You twisted out of his grip and spun again to face him. “You don’t get to kick me out after you tell me you’re cheating.”

“You’re the one that said you’d walk out.” He shrugged.

“If you two shack up here, then I'm sure she has some clothes here. Bathroom products, maybe. Toothbrush? Hair brush? She’s gotta have some underwear here at least, right?” You kept pushing as you stepped deeper into the small apartment in an effort to mate Marc couldn’t throw you out.

“Y/N.” He sighed and followed after you.

“Just tell me the truth.” You stopped and spun quickly to face him, almost colliding with his chest as he was coming up behind you. “Because I’ve never felt so alone. These few weeks without you have been like my world is falling apart. It’s gut-wrenching to wake up without you. No calls, no texts, no little notes around my place…”

His heart twisted when he realized how much he had been hurting you.

“You’re right… I’m not cheating on you.” He admitted with a sigh as his eyes fell to the ground.

You breathed a small sigh of relief and reached out to take his hands in yours. His thumbs ran back and forth along the backs of your hands. You gave them a small squeeze and he managed to meet your eyes again.

“I… Jesus, this is gonna sound nuts.” He sighed.

“I'm listening, Marc.” You said softly.

“You won’t believe me.” He shook his head.

“I believe you love me. And I love you. I believe you thought you were being noble and protecting me, but I always feel safer and more protected when you’re with me. Just be honest and we can work it out.”

“I serve Khonshu.” He said suddenly, as if it was his only chance to get the words out. “He saved my life before I met you and my servitude is how I repay that debt.”

“Khonshu…” You repeated, an expression of uncertainty on your face. “Is that the Egyptian moon god that looks like a bird version of Jack Skelingtion?”

At that, he chuckled and it brought a small smile out of you.

“Pretty much.” He laughed and nodded.

“And Steven?”

“That’s a longer story.”

“So let’s go home. I’ll make some food and we can talk about it.”

“You sure?” He gave your interlocked hand a small pull so you were chest to chest. He guided your hands to rest on his shoulders while his found their place at your waist. “You’re about to find out how much of a trainwreck I really am.”

You shrugged slightly. “Good thing I’m in it for the long run. I’m gunning for your last name eventually so I better buckle up, huh?”

“God, I love you.” He grinned.