requests are currently open for avengers, x-men, into the spider-verse, stranger things, IT, and the umbrella academy characters!
please consider before you request:
i WILL NOT write smut. brief implications at the most!
the reader will always be written as neutral as possible, despite if the request specifies certain traits (ie. gender, race), UNLESS it’s vital to the plot of the fic. (ie. reader is a victim of tr*nsph*b**).
if a request somehow makes me uncomfortable to write, I WILL DELETE IT!!!! i may give a quick heads up to the requester if they are non-anon, and give them a chance to revise the request, but otherwise it’ll be deleted. please understand that i have some boundaries!!
if you send in a request for a character i haven’t stated i’ll write for, or if you send in a request while they are closed, it’ll be deleted!! like before, i may give the sender a heads up if they’re non-anon.
comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!!
characters i will and will not write for below the cut!
the umbrella academy
characters i will write for: allison, vanya, diego, five, klaus, ben, luther, lila
characters i will not write for: hazel or cha cha, reginald & pogo & grace (for obvious reasons), the handler
x-men
i will write for: jean grey, peter maximoff, alex summers, charles xavier, logan howlett, warren worthington, domino, nathan summers
avengers
i will write for: all avengers & the guardians
into the spider-verse
characters i’ll write for: peter b. parker, RIPeter, spider-man noir, gwen stacy, miles morales
characters i won’t right for: peter porker, peni parker
stranger things
i will write for: billy hargrove, nancy wheeler, jonathan byers, steve harrington, robin buckley
IT (2017 & 2019)
i will write for: richie tozier, eddie kaspbrak, bill denbrough, stan uris, beverly marsh, mike henlon, ben hanscom (all as kids and adults)
Summary: Eddie’s been self conscious about his body ever since the bat incident in the upside down, so you take it upon yourself to show him just how beautiful he is
Warnings: spoilers for vol.2, fluff, angst, smut, mention of scars, praise kink, body worship, insecure Eddie, bit of sub! Eddie, oral (m receiving), penetrative sex (m+f), minors DNI
A/N: this follows straight on from part one so I’d definitely recommend reading that first, the link is just below! I hope you guys like this <33
Read Part One
This is for people 18+ only. Minors do not read on. By clicking ‘keep reading’ you are hereby agreeing that you are 18 or older.
“Eddie, please...” you plead with him sadly. “It’s okay” you try to reassure him gently. “Just let me in. Let me see” you whisper.
“I can’t,” he breathes shakily, “I just can’t.”
You can feel the tremble in his fingers as they squeeze yours tightly, keeping your hands firmly in place.
“Okay, okay,” you whisper gently, defeat etched on your face.
You untwist your fingers from his shirt, signalling to him you were gonna let go. He swallows a shaky breath, his jaw visibly tensing before he gives you a quick nod and lets go of your hands. You sit back on your heels, your hands folding in your lap. Eddie sighs deeply before pulling himself upright, moving to sit against the headboard. You shuffle forwards, moving between his legs. You see a twinge of fear gloss over his eyes as you move to basically straddle him again.
“Shh, it’s okay” you tell him softy, holding up your hands. “I’m not gonna touch you, I just want to be near you. Is that okay?” You ask gently.
Eddie simply nods but you can see his shoulders relax slightly. You nod back at him and you let your hands fall into your shared lap where his own hands were anxiously playing with one another. You place your hands in his, letting him absent-mindedly play with your fingers instead. You give him a moment before you speak up again.
“Eddie...” you start and you can immediately see the tension settle in his shoulders again.
“Baby, we need to talk about this” you tell him gently, his eyes still refusing to meet yours. “You need to let me in. You need to let me see.”
“See what?” He bluffs weakly.
You let out a small sigh of frustration.
“You know what, Eddie. You’re hiding yourself from me. And I don’t just mean emotionally speaking. You practically run away anytime you need to take your shirt off to change or whatever. You freeze anytime my hands go anywhere your stomach. Jesus, Eddie, you won't even let me just hug you” you croak through the tears that were threatening to spill again.
He just sits there silently, his eyes still firmly trained on where his hands played with yours in his lap.
“Do you think I’m gonna judge you or something?” You ask, hurt twinging your voice.
“No,” he stammers quickly. “No, not intentionally.”
He swallows before he continues, his chest rising and falling with another shaky breath.
"But you won't be able to help it, whether you mean to or not. These... scars...” he was hesitant to even say the word, “they’re hideous, y/n. No matter how much you love me; they’re horrible to look at and I just- I don’t know. I don’t want you to see me any differently because of them.”
“Of course I’m going to see you differently because of them,” you tell him, moving your hands to cup his face. “Those scars mark you as a fucking hero, Eddie Munson. A survivor. A fully certified badass. I mean, I knew those things about you anyway, now we just have proof. Certified proof of how fucking incredible you are,” you stroke his cheeks lightly as you smile softly at him.
You see Eddie swallow hard as a tear leaks down his cheek, which you quickly wipe away with your thumb.
“Eddie, I will never see you as anything other than beautiful,” you tell him earnestly. “Not just because of your pretty looks, which do help,” you laugh softly, eliciting a small smile from Eddie, “but because of who you are. You got that?”
Eddie gives a small nod as he sniffs lightly.
“Good” you whisper, giving him a soft kiss on the nose.
You lean your forehead against his, just holding his face and stroking his cheeks, just letting him take his time. His thumbs start to slowly stroke your hips where he held you. His grip starts loosen as he relaxes a bit, the tension melting from his body slowly.
“Please. Just let me see” you implore him after a few moments, releasing his face and sitting back on your heels again.
Eddie clears his throat and quickly wipes away another tear that had escaped his eye. After a moment’s contemplation he gives you a small nod. You return his nod before gently reaching out to grab the hem of his shirt. You keep your eyes on his, keeping your movements slow and gentle, waiting for any signal in case he changed his mind. You slowly lift up his shirt as he raises his arms to let you pull it over your head. Once it’s off you toss it to the side. But Eddie immediately locks his arms around his body, trying to hide as much of himself as he could.
You have to choke back the sob that threatens to rack through you. Not only at the sight of this beautiful boy so self conscious, but from the small peaks of scars that you could see through the gaps in his arms. You take a deep, steadying breath before you tentatively reach out to touch his arms. You can see his body shake as he takes a deep, trembling breath before he lets you slowly unfold his arms.
His eyes look anywhere but at you as yours rake over his body. Tears well in your eyes as you take in the angry red gashes that tainted his sides. The scars were mostly healed now but you could tell they were deep and permanent. They looked terrifying only in the sense that they evoked the memory of when you’d almost lost him. But there was also an odd comfort in them, a reminder that despite this, despite these scars, he had pulled through. You go to reach out a hand before you stop yourself quickly.
“Is it okay if I...” you trial off, reaching your arm forwards but not touching him yet.
He takes another shaky breath before he nods again, his eyes still not meeting yours. You tentatively reach out your hand, letting your fingers lightly brush one of the scars, your touch feather light. You see as well as feel Eddie tense as your fingers slowly but surely explore the contours of the raised skin.
“Do they still hurt?” You whisper.
“Not really. Not anymore” he shrugs sadly, sniffing as he tries to keep his own tears contained.
Your hands slowly but surely start to roam all over his torso, his sides, his stomach, tracing over the lines and swirls of each scar. You then let your hands slowly travel up his body, across his chest and up further until you were cupping the back of his head, your fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck. You gently pull until he turns his face to look at you at last, his sad glossy eyes finally meeting yours.
“Eddie” you whisper sadly, your voice threatening to break with tears. “You’re so beautiful” you tell him earnestly.
His eyes look at you quizzically, his mouth opening as he fumbles to find a response. But you don’t give him the time to.
“You’re so fucking beautiful” you say in a firmer tone.
You start peppering his face with kisses, murmuring soft praises as your lips blaze across his skin, going from his cheeks, to his jaw, to his neck, his throat, collarbones, anywhere you could reach. He lets out the quietest of groans as you kiss him all over.
“But these scars...” he trials off and you can hear the insecurity in his voice. “The scars... they’re...”
“They’re a reminder that you survived, Eddie” you sit back up to look at him. “They’re a reminder that you made it, that you came back to me. That you fought a bunch of fucking supernatural bats and lived to tell the tale. They’re fucking metal, babe,” you laugh softly through your tears.
Eddie returns your chuckle with a small, shy smile; “you think so?”
“Oh yeah, super metal” you nod your head. “Totally rad” you joke with him softly.
The two of you both chuckle lightly and you can feel him slowly start to relax again. When your giggles die down you look at him earnestly again.
“Seriously Eddie, you’re beautiful. And these scars are beautiful simply because they’re a part of you” you tell him as you give the back of his head light scratches with your nails.
You lean forward to press your lips against his. You kiss him softly, letting him warm up to your touch again. Slowly but surely he starts to lean more into the kiss, his lips moving with more enthusiasm against your own. You sigh contently as he kisses you back more fervently, gently pushing his tongue into your mouth. His hands seek out your hips and he pulls you into his lap.
When your bare pussy meets the crotch of his jeans you can feel he’s started to grow hard again. You whine into the kiss as you start to grind down on him, encouraging him to grow even harder. He groans softly into your mouth as his hands move with your hips, helping with your bucking motion.
You kiss him hard for another second before you take your mouth off of his and begin your trial of kisses down his face and neck again. Eddie leans his head back against the headboard, letting you access his neck better. You gently bite, kiss, and suck at his skin, leaving your own marks across his flesh. You listen to the soft and gentle sounds of his whimpers and groans as you mark up his skin, slowly making your way further down his body.
You shift your hips back, arching your body as you kiss further down his chest. As you approach his stomach he starts to tense again, his fingers digging into your waist.
“Wh- what are you doing?” He stammers.
“Shh, it’s okay,” you whisper against his skin, continuing to kiss him. “It’s okay baby. I’ve got you. You’re okay. You’re safe with me,” you murmur gently. “And... you’re... so.... fucking... pretty,” you place a kiss between each word.
When you reach the top of his stomach, just above where the scarring starts, you stop and lift your eyes to meet his again.
“If you want me to stop, just tell me okay?”
He looks at you nervously but nods, letting you continue your movements. You shift on the bed, moving yourself back a bit so you could better reach his stomach. You duck your head again and resume your kisses along his chest. At the same time you let a hand slide up his thigh until you find your mark at his crotch. You palm him gently as you slowly move your lips lower down.
Eddie flinches when your lips first make contact with one of the scars. He tenses briefly but he doesn’t stop you. You can feel and hear his shaky breathes as you gently trace your lips further over his scars, placing the softest of kisses to his skin, your mouth brushing featherlight across his body. You hum gently against his skin, moving your way across his stomach to his other side where more scars adorned his skin.
“You’re so beautiful,” you repeat, murmuring against his body. “Such a pretty, pretty boy.”
He groans softly at your words, his hips starting to buck up into your hand where you were still palming his crotch, feeling him steadily grow fully hard beneath your touch. He lets out a breathy “fuck” as you kiss lower down his stomach, making your way down to his belly button. You kiss across his hip bones, the fabric of his boxers skimming your bottom lip. You raise your eyes to meet his, again just checking in with him. He looks down at you, his bottom lip between his teeth, and nods lightly. You smile and give his lower belly another a quick kiss before you go to undo his jeans.
You unzip his jeans, pulling them off him as he shifts in the bed. You kiss your way up his thighs, enjoying the way he was now squirming under your touch. This boy was just as aching and desperate for touch as you had been. You kiss up his inner thighs until you reach the shorts of his boxers. He’s fully hard now, his dick straining in the confinement of his underwear. You smirk lightly at the wet spot where his pre-cum had leaked. You place a kiss to clothed cock, revelling in the groan that sounded from Eddie. He bucks his hips up again, desperately seeking your mouth, seeking to be free from all this pent up tension.
You sit up lightly as you finally slowly drag his boxers down his legs, shucking them off and tossing them aside. His aching cock springs free, slapping against his stomach. His tip was red and swollen, wet with his pre-cum. Eddie’s hands ball into the sheets at his sides when you lean down and lick a gentle stripe on the underside of his cock, right from the base to his tip.
“Oh fuck,” he whimpers so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “Please, please,” he pants inaudibly.
“Shh baby, it’s okay,” you hum, placing a kiss to his swollen head. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” you whisper gently before you take his head into your mouth.
He gasps and shudders at even the smallest sensation of having your mouth on him. You swirl your tongue around his tip, letting it dart into his slit, tasting his pre-cum. Eddie tosses his head back, pushing back against the headboard as he squeezes his eyes shut in pleasure.
You slowly sink your mouth down his length, taking your time to ease him into your mouth. It was more for his sake than yours, you didn’t want to overwhelm him too quickly. You set a slow pace as you bob your head up and down on his dick, letting your tongue flatten against his base as you suck softly. You look up to see Eddie a mess above you; he’s panting, red in the face, his stomach raising and falling rapidly with his heavy breathing, fists balled into the sheets desperately. Fuck, you’d missed seeing him like this.
“Fuck,” he whimpers, running a hand through his hair. “Oh shit, shit your mouth feels so fucking good,” he groans as you steadily increase your speed.
His body coils and tenses as the sensations take over his body. You knew he probably wasn’t going to last long himself, seeing as he was just as touch starved as you had been.
“Wait wait. Stop, please,” he suddenly pants, his hand coming to cup your jaw and gently pull your mouth off him.
You look at him with a silent question in your eyes, worried that this had become too much for him now, that maybe he needed to stop.
“I- I just- I want- want to finish inside you” he whispers breathlessly, his thumb stroking your cheek.
He moves his hand from your cheek to gently cup the back of your neck, pulling you back up towards his face. You smile up at him as you crawl over his body until your lips crash against his again. You both moan into the kiss as his tongue invades your mouth again. He kisses you fervently, breathlessly, his hands flat against your back, pushing you tight against him.
You grind your hips down and feel the tip of his head brushing against your folds. Eddie moves one hand off your body to grab his dick and line it up with your entrance. When you feel his tip push just inside your entrance you sink down onto him, sitting down until he filled you to the brim. Both of you moan sinfully load at the feeling.
“Oh fuck,” Eddie exclaims at the feeling of finally being inside you. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good. Can’t believe I almost forgot how good you feel. So warm and so tight for me” he rambles incoherently, his fingers squeezing your hips roughly.
You moan at his words, your own mind foggy at feeling so full again. So full of him. Eddie throws his head back again, his eyes screwing shut, his mouth twisting. It was as if it was taking every ounce of his self restraint to not blow his load immediately just at the feeling of your warm cunt wrapped around him. You give him a second to compose himself, busying yourself with kissing all over his face and neck, your hands tangling into his hair as you cup the back of his head.
After a moment Eddie’s hands land on your waist, slowly starting to guide you as you rock back and forth on his cock. A string of soft moans and sighs leave the both of you as you gently start to to ride him. He grunts with the effort of restraining himself, trying his best to work you towards another climax before he let himself finish. His eyes bore into yours, watching you intently as you grind onto his cock.
Your eyes search his in return as you slowly bring a hand down his chest. You see his breath hitch and feel him tense again. But he doesn’t stop you; he lets you trail your hand down his chest until you reach his torso, your eyes following the movement of your hand. His hand comes to grab yours suddenly, stopping your movement. You look at him briefly again and see the panic in his eyes, his breathing getting heavier from more than just the effort of fucking up into you.
You look at him gently, trying to convey all your thoughts and emotions through your gaze. I love you. You’re beautiful. You’re safe. We’re okay. You’re beautiful. You’re beautiful. You’re so fucking beautiful.
After a moment he gives you a tiny nod, releasing your hand. You place a quick kiss to his lips before you carry on with your movements. You gently skip your fingers over his stomach, over his sides, feeling the rough bumps of the scars there. You watch the way the skin flexes, rising and falling with his heavy breaths.
You bring your other hand down and gently hold onto his sides, using it to help gain momentum as you pick up your speed. Your fingers skim over the raised skin and you’re careful to keep your grip gentle, not wanting to hurt him or push him too far. Eddie stays tensed for a moment but is quickly lost again in the feeling of you riding him, of being so deep inside you after not having felt your perfect pretty cunt around him for so long.
He tilts his head up to look at you, his nose brushing yours again as your breathes mix.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry for everything” he whimpers in a ramble.
You shake your head at him; “no, it’s okay baby. It’s okay” you whisper back, your hands stroking the back of his neck again.
“I love you, I love you so fucking much” he whines as he tips his head forwards to rest his forehead on yours.
“I know, I love you too Eddie” you smile gently, kissing the tip of his nose.
Eddie’s pace then starts to quicken, his thrusts getting sloppy and desperate. His one hand finds it’s way between your bodies, his fingers feverishly landing on your clit as he starts to rub circles around it. His grunts were getting louder and more frequent, his telltale sign that he was getting close. He was desperately trying to get you closer to your own climax so that you could cum together.
“Please,” he pants incoherently again. “I need to cum... I need you to cum with me... please baby, cum with me... cum with me,” he rambles as he rubs your clit even faster.
Hearing him begging for release sent a fresh surge of arousal through you, your pussy clenching around him.
“Oh fuck,” he cries as you feel him twitch inside you. “Fuck, fuck, holy shit,” he whimpers as he fucks up into you a final few times before you feel his warmth flood your insides.
His trembling fingers keep rubbing your clit fervently, which paired with the sight of him coming undone beneath you, finally tips you over the edge yourself.
“Shit, Eddie,” you squeak as your third orgasm of the night rocks through you.
You and Eddie both shake lightly as he slowly fucks you through your highs. A months worth of pent up anger, stress, sadness, it all washes away as pleasure courses through both your bodies. As you. both slowly start to come down you brush some of the hair out of his face and look down at him softly. His big dark eyes stare back into yours. His eyes are alive, looking at you with awe and adoration, the way he used to look at you.
There, you think to yourself. There you are, there’s the boy I know and love.
You heart swells and you lean forward to give him a gentle and tender kiss, his lips reciprocating your action, moving with a soft fervour against your own. He kisses you for while as the two of you catch your breath, coming down from your climaxes. Eventually he bumps your nose with his, his go to signal that he was gonna move to get the two of you cleaned up. He helps lift you off him and gently places you back onto the bed beside you. He flashes a soft smile before he gets up and heads to the bathroom, grabbing a fresh pair of boxers on his way.
You hear water run as he gives himself a quick rinse down before he comes back to the bedroom, boxers back on and a wet towel in hand. As he makes his way back over to you he scoops up the shirt he’d been wearing and a small flare of fear shoots through you. No, he’s going to hide from me again, cover himself up.
But instead Eddie sits next to you on the bed, guiding you to lift up your arms so that he could drape the shirt over your body. He pulls the shirt down your torso and gives you a quick boop on the nose. You feels tears spring in your eyes again, but this time, they were tears of joy. He wasn’t hiding from you anymore.
Eddie quickly but thoroughly wipes you down, cleaning your skin from where both yours and his cum had stained it. He strokes your skin softly with his other hand, following the trail of where he cleaned you with the towel. This, this was the Eddie you knew. The soft and tender boy who was always so lovingly gentle and considerate, so heartbreakingly intimate regardless of how hard he’d fucked you in the past. Once he’s finished cleaning you up he strokes down your nose with his little finger, another signature Eddie move, before he gets up to toss the towel into the laundry basket.
He comes back to the bed again, this time grabbing you a fresh pair of panties from the drawer for you to sleep in. He slips them on you, guiding them up your legs and over your hips. He kisses each of your hips tenderly before he climbs into the bed next to you and lies down on his back. You lie down next to him gingerly, careful not to touch his torso. You were still cautious of not pushing him past his limit.
But not a second later his arm reaches out for you and pulls you against his body. You smile into his chest as his arm wraps around you, his fingers playing lightly up and down your back. The two of you lie in comfortable silence for a while. His hand stroking your back, your fingers dancing across his chest lightly.
“I didn’t even realise just how much I missed this” Eddie hums quietly after a moment. “You were right here beside me this whole time but I was miles away.”
You don’t answer him save for turning your head to place another kiss to his tummy.
“I’m sorry” he croaks and you can hear that he was close to tears again.
You shake your head as you twist to look up at him.
“I was never looking for an apology Eddie. I just wanted you back.”
He gives a small nod before he leans up to place a quick kiss to your forehead.
“I’m here,” he whispers, “I’m here now.”
You kiss his chest and let your fingers trace over his scars once again, content that he was no longer flinching from the touch, no longer hiding from you.
You give him a small smile; “I know.”
Masterlist
A/N: as if I was originally gonna put both parts into one fic, that shit would’ve been ridiculously long!! anyways I really hope you guys liked this, both parts took me a looong time to write so yeah I really hope you guys enjoyed them <33
everybody’s talkin’ up a storm (act like they don’t notice)
summary: The one where the boys don’t know that Eddie Munson is dating the pretty assistant librarian that always helps them out. Dustin has a crush on her. Mike thinks it’s fake. Erica just wants to get home to watch Thundercats.
“Uh, Eddie?” Lucas started, voice small. “Do you have someone over?”
Eddie blinked. “Uh. Just my girlfriend,” he said flippantly, tossing himself onto the sofa and taking a slow drag of his cigarette. “Keep it down for a while, would ya? She had a long night.”
There was silence.
“Your what?”
warnings: none! wholesome fluff here lmao. a lot of d&d references – curse of strahd is a banger
Hello, your Five x Black cat reader was amazing so I was wondering if you would write something with prompts #40, #41, and a sprinkle of #46. Idk what else to put so have a lovely day :))))
thank you love!! here is it:
Tomorrow | F. Hargreeves
pairing: five hargreeves x gn!reader
wc; 724
warnings: s3 spoilers, but not like anything major major, angsty
synopsis: if tomorrow never comes, at least five loved you today
prompts:040: “why are you at my door at 3am?”041: “I can’t stand the sight of you in someone else’s arms.”046: “Tell me you want this too.”
Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt list
—
There was a knock at your door, causing you to groan. It’s not like you were getting much sleep anyway, but the thought of getting out of bed?
No thanks.
However, the knocking persisted. Eventually, you dragged yourself out of bed, only to hear a thud by the door. You move a little faster now, shuffling towards the door and gently opening it. “Hello?”
There was no one there.
Until you hear a weak moan from the floor. You look down to find Five fucking Hargreeves passed out drunk.
warnings: angst, blood and gore, obsessive behavior, steven and marc being steven and marc
summary: You and Steve come to understand some of Marc’s job that he doesn’t tell you about.
author’s note: I went rushing to work after writing this so it could be on time. I don’t know if I want to make a second part but who knows. I like how this kind of comes back to a circle.
MINISERIES MASTERLIST
Steven had no inclination of where he was, and it had been a while since he last woke up somewhere he didn’t understand. Watching your blood leak into the cracks of the pavement while you tried your best to soothe him wasn’t a sight that he’d ever be able to forget. No matter how much pressure he put, the wound wouldn’t stop gushing. It was criminal. Civilians even looked on in astonishment, as if they were frozen in time while Steven’s bandaged hands were tainted. Yet, it took only a blink for him to see the ceiling of his room. The feeling of losing days was all too familiar, but now it felt different.
It was likely because you were left to die while he made it home just fine. This had Steven shooting out of his bed. He no longer had an ankle restraint, which sent him plummeting face first onto the floor of his bedroom. It was a sobering feeling. He would have stayed on the floor to let the pain subside, but he didn’t have the time that day. The last time he saw you, you were drowning in your own fluid.
Now he was barefoot, shouting your name in his home with cracks in his cadence. He opened the door to rush down the hall. It didn’t take any time for him to reach your front door, fiercely knocking and shouting your name like a broken music box. His rapping only increased in its intensity as seconds passed.
His vision darted to a man leaving his home, completely taken aback by his barefoot neighbor with a frigid look on his face, shouting for someone at the end of the door. Steven had no patience for what he was being perceived as. They had already seen many things out of context, so he only continued.
His knuckles were growing red as the water behind his eyes was already beginning to push past. He thought about going back and grab the spare key when he remembered it.
“Steven?” You opened the door, still appearing to be half awake and confused, but he never noticed. He already had you knocked back so many feet away from your door. His sudden hug sent you flying and trying to maintain your balance. He had gone from persistently shouting your name to complete silence as he buried his face further and further into your neck. His muscular arms squeezed even tighter until you were locked in place.
“Hey,” you whispered. Your hands returned the embrace as best as you could. You couldn’t give him the same strength, but you hoped to pull him out of whatever happened. You never asked the reason for his sudden appearance as your left shoulder began to feel the fabric of your pajama shirt become wet. Steven's body was vibrating quietly, and you simply spoke to him as he rode out the wave of emotions that you still didn’t understand.
“It’s okay,” you told him. It went like this with Steven in a mountain of turmoil while you simply listened to his shaking voice echo off of your small apartment. You comforted him even as the crying subsided. Your fingers had naturally found their way into his hair and that’s when he knew that it was all real. The feeling was enough to send him back to crying as you stood in the center of your home. “I’m here.” And perhaps that was the best feeling in the world to him.
At a certain point, you had both found rest on the edge of your bed with his head on your lap. If he wasn’t so preoccupied with relief, he would have gone red noticing it was the first time he ever came in contact with your bed.
“I’m sorry,” he was already burying his face in his hands to keep from seeing the look of confusion on your face. You even still looked tired.
“No, it’s fine. Really.” You had avoided questioning him for so long and now were getting concerned. “What happened?”
“I thought—I thought that I was somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be, again,” he said. You were well aware of the days he used to wake up in places where he hadn’t ever planned to go. Yet now that he and Marc had come to know each other, Khonshu not so much, it had scared him less. However, that didn’t mean that the anxiety had gone completely.
“Well, you’re here now,” you told him. “With me.” Steven could hear the smile in your voice and that made all the difference.
It had been so long since he had actually dreamed, so he never really trusted dreams and especially not nightmares. For a moment he thought he had woken up after Marc had fronted while you had taken your last breaths.
“Ye-yeah, yeah.” He was bad at hiding the shake in his voice. You were even worse at capturing your yawn before it was too late. It caused Steven to shoot out of your lap and begin scrambling to leave as he spoke. “I should go.”
“Wait,” He felt you take his hand and the look you gave him afterward made his chest hurt. You almost wished you weren’t so tired, but it was midnight.
“Don’t worry. It’s ok—I’m fine.”
“You can stay here.” You watched in disappointment as he shook his head while playing with the sleeve of the long sleeve he liked to wear in his sleep. He sometimes got cold easily. “Steven, it’s okay,” you told him. “Besides,” you pulled him back down to where you were sitting. “Cleo can’t be the only one to keep me company.”
“Cleo?” he reluctantly followed you into bed. It felt like he was being lured into a lake. He could have held his breath until you both were laying down while facing one another. Your nose was so close to his. He nearly left existence when he saw how your focus shifted from his eyes to his lips and back again. Two beating hearts fell into rhythm on a relatively small bed.
“Cleopatra,” you answered. The stuffed crocodile he had given you was now casually placed in between him and you. It was much bigger than Steven remembered.
“That’s a nice name,” he practically said to himself.
“I was going to name her Tick-Tock, but I don’t think she would have appreciated it.”
Steven laughed at your confession until he heard you say, “good night, pretty.” A reference to the time he told you he’s never been called pretty before. Your body practically begged to cling onto Steven as you slept, but the fear of overwhelming him had you already embracing the stuffed creature as a replacement.
He nearly choked as he returned your words with a “good night.” Before he retreated to bed, he let himself be a little jealous of the gift he had given you.
Everything smelled like you. It was the first thing Marc noticed as he stirred in his sleep. He wasn’t sure why until he felt the presence of something in front of him while he slept. His eyes shot open at three in the morning. Your entire body practically crushed the gift Steven had given you to reach and casually drape your hand over his torso.
Marc was entirely unsure of how he had gotten there and, even worse, he wasn’t sure if he should have been. He had spent so long gone and out of reflection since the dinner. But he returned to a fixture in time that he would have paid so much money to be trapped in for the rest of his existence. Every sensible part of him told him to go out and complete his responsibilities, but he loved to be difficult.
You and Steven never knew the details of what he did when he was gone for so long. Marc simply returned peppered in bruises and you both took it and did not want to know the details. His promise he wasn’t doing anything illegal or immoral and that kept you and Steven from pressing further. Every so often, you wondered if he was a boxer.
It stung for a few minutes that this position wasn’t meant for him, but he was okay with being selfish. He let your scent bury him many times over as he shamelessly watched how relaxed you appeared in complete ignorance to his presence. As if he was Steven. He continued like this. He even over indulged when he lightly pulled you closer. Steven could hate him in the morning if he ever pieced it together. However, Marc enjoyed returning to sleep with you all over him because he was too afraid to face you when you were awake.
Steven was unsure of why you left him in your home alone before going off to work. He would have gone back home if he woke up just in time for you to head to your double shift. Yet you left in silence, so he spent the first few seconds of his morning confused and the last few minutes hugging the crocodile. He pretended Cleo was you to return to the best sleep that he had had in months.
His Monday was as mundane as it could be, but eventually, once it was time to start to get ready for work, he parted with New Gus and Cleo.
You spent your entire day wondering if he felt any better but also overindulged in how close you had gotten while you both slept. Thankfully, it was the first day of the week, which meant you got to hold his hand all the way home.
Your walk to meet him at the bus station was as it always was. As the moon stood overhead, you sat at the bus station patiently at first. You admired the restaurants and street performers as you waited for Steven, but once the first bus came without him, the night began descending.
You didn’t board the first bus but instead called Steven. To your dismay, his cheerful voice repeatedly told you to leave a message even after you called him a second time, a fourth time, a thirteenth time.
“Hey, it’s Steven. Steven with a ‘v’. Leave a message for me,” you hung up once more before you would catch him mumbling on voicemail. “Oh, that rhymed.”
It all felt wrong. Steven wasn’t the most careful with charging his phone, but even if it was dead, he would have called you on the museum’s phone if he knew he was running late. By the next hour or so, you were already walking in the direction of his museum, hoping he had just gotten distracted on his way. All the while, you held your phone to your ear with your hand tucked into your pocket.
You watched the city’s streets descend into further darkness while your shoes met old puddles that glistened. London had a tendency to never sleep, but some of its corners were vile. You only had so much time before most shops would close, rendering the streets unsafe.
Your search continued as you spun and searched and sprinted. You were hoping you would find him upon chance. This was the only plan you could conjure until you recalled the time that Steven asked you to have an app that could track his phone just in case he ended up somewhere he wasn’t familiar with.
You knew about Steven and his other alters before he did, but never pieced together that they were the cause of Steven insisting he was sleepwalking until he figured it out. As you hurried to open the app, you recounted meeting him many months ago outside a storage unit. You save your questions and buy a cab home. It was a steep expense for you, but you didn’t think he deserved to try to not cry on a bus filled with many people in the middle of the day. Instead, he cried a little more freely in the backseat while you adamantly assured him the driver wasn’t looking.
A dot with Steven’s name on it danced on your screen and by then you were running, hoping you’d make it in time if anything went wrong. What you found after you had run across streets, turned sharply on avenues, and weaved through the occasional passerby was not what you ever could have anticipated. The image of his hands violently pummeling the head of a stranger with a golden piece in his hand would be seared onto your memory for the rest of your life. Even as the gentleman clawed at his arms that were decorated in protruding veins, he didn’t waver.
“Steven!” you shrieked. Your voice would have stopped a small town, but it was drowned in the city. You were tucked away in a corner that was meant for dumpsters and pipes. The only indication that you hadn’t imagined crying his name was the fact that he turned around and the way his face dropped made it clear that he saw you.
You didn’t know what made you run toward him, but that’s when you realized that there was more than one body across the floor. They were scattered about like Steven had exploded. And the last man was dead.
“Y/N?” he was already rushing to you to stand tall before you couldn’t see all the damage. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said. It wasn’t Steven and his accent was gone.
“Marc?” you gasped. It had been long since you’d last spoken to him. It had been the first time you had ever seen solid terror stack against him. “Marc, what the fuck!” you cried.
He forgot his hands were covered in blood, but you hadn’t. Even as he reached to possibly calm you down, you put a great distance between yourself and him.
You could see the bodies from where you stood still. You could only shake your head in disbelief, and you saw the insides of men scattered on concrete and made a soup with their blood. The first look at that had you curled over and vomiting without warning.
Marc could have stood where he was with clenched fists and a roaring headache, but he had a job to do, and it wasn’t done. He had to clean up the disaster he created and leave them untraceable or like this was their doing. Something that the police wouldn’t ask questions about.
“Is this that you don’t want me and Steven knowing about?” You were choking on the air around you as you watched him arrange the figures.
“Can we talk about this when we get home?” he couldn’t think straight when he could hear you crying. The thought of you possibly not calling the police to protect Steven and not Marc kept his thoughts whirling.
“Like fucking hell Marc! You expect me to—”
He pulled you into his chest with a bloody hand over your mouth without warning. You were dragged into the shadows of the alley as you waited for whatever signal Marc was expecting. Nothing came, but Marc thought he saw something. Since you arrived, all his senses were scattered.
You were forced to spend that time in the shadows, pretending you couldn’t feel and smell hot blood all over your mouth while Marc tried to ignore your panicked breaths and tears that stained his hand. It was easier that way. Dismiss the burden that was hanging over him in favor of staying stone cold.
Marc didn’t know why you followed him home. He was nearly optimistic that you weren’t entirely appalled by him until he saw you mindlessly feed New Gus while you stared off into absolutely nothing.
He saw how still you were even after you finished eating and dared to break the silence. “You should probably start heading to bed.” He said as he pressed the button on his coffee maker. “You look tired—”
“You don’t seem bothered by what just happened. Like at all,” you pointed out. “Why the hell am I the only one reliving that while you’re making coffee!”
“Hey, lower your voice.”
“Like hell I won’t!”
Marc let out a heavy sigh while watching you pace.
“You told me and Steven that nothing you were doing was wrong.” You corned him as he stood in the kitchen. He could see the lines of your face grow deeper with every word.
“It wasn’t.”
“Yo-you killed—” you'd rather vomit a second time than say all of what you wanted.
“They weren’t innocent.” he tucked the scarab deeper in his jacket pocket to make sure he hadn’t lost it. “And were willing to kill for something that doesn’t belong to them.” He recalled how easily he lost control when one of them threatened to go after everyone he knew. The list wasn’t long and the fact that you sat on it was enough for him to stop pulling the weight on his punches. He was being sprayed in blood while his dead, straight gaze stayed the same. Until he heard your voice bounce off the bricks.
“How am I supposed to trust you?” you asked.
“Fuck,” he gasped as he weaved around you. “Weren’t you the one screaming about trust?”
Marc, stop.
Steven had seen everything. He hadn’t meant to. But after he and Khonshu called on Marc so many times, he never truly left when he stopped fronting. He always did, but this time he lingered for a little too long. Long enough to see the damage from the puddle Marc saw him in, and long enough to hear your voice.
“No,” you were chasing after him now. “You don’t get to start bringing that up now.”
“What do I need to do to get you to trust me on this?”
You never truly had an answer, but the words came before your thoughts did. “Cry for me.”
What?
“What are you talking about?”
“Cry for me,” you pressed. Your chest was against his as you methodically examined the expression of his face. “So I at least know you still feel something. Marc, you didn’t even look upset as you were—that’s horrifying.”
The room was still as the bubbles in New Gus’s tank stopped floating. Marc heard the instruction loud and clear, but he hadn’t changed. “Common,” you beg as you fisted his shirt. “Give me anything, Marc.” You didn’t care if it wasn’t genuine. You would have taken a lie over what you thought was the truth.
Steven watched the mirror of the tank, but Marc still hadn’t moved.
“You know,” your head had dropped in defeat. “That night you were practically shaking at the thought of possibly touching me.” You wanted your words to hurt to see if you could get him to express anything at all. You were pulling teeth while his brown eyes were marveling over your face. “But now, I can’t even get you to react to what you did. How am I supposed to know that you’re okay, and that was the right thing to do wh-when there was blood all over my fucking mouth!” You covered your lips with your hands to keep from screaming as flashes of cold bodies filled your head. It was hard to see anything past tears that fractured your vision.
You need to give me the body
Your knees buckled. “Y/N—” You could see him attempting to catch you.
“DON’T COME ANYWHERE NEAR ME!” You had never gotten so loud in all your life, but the thought of three pairs of cold hands hanging out of the dumpster for someone else to deal with made your ears pop.
Bloody hell! Let me talk to Y/N!
“I swear to God, Marc. Don’t come anywhere near me.”
Marc had so much all at once crowding his senses, but worse of all was watching you rise with bloodshot eyes and a frightening disposition.
“Okay,” was all he said as his brows knitted his tanned skin.
You were already making your way home, but not before he caught your arm again. You flinched as you tugged it back, ready to raise hell once again. Ready to trample him over for what you had seen.
“Hey, hey. It’s me,” he breathed. His voice woke you like cool running water.
Of course, it was Steven. No one else would beg you to stay with so much desperation coating his glossy eyes. The man you loved to litter with a thousand water-colored kisses saw the tension evaporate from your shoulders for a few seconds before you went right back into his arms at full force. It was midnight again, but this time Steven’s clothes were growing wet from your constant crying.
He mimicked what you always did for him until you had stopped crying, then stopped hiccupping. It went on like this until you went sinking into his bed.
warnings: implied smut, angst, mentions of stalking, everyone just being a mess, especially marc, obsessive behavior
summary: Your relationship with Steven is constantly strained by the presence of Marc's disdain for you.
author’s note: I tried to be careful to be conscious of the presence of DID on this property, but if I wrote anything that is offensive or ignorant, please please please let me know.
MINISERIES MASTERLIST
The restaurant’s staff did a poor job at masking that they were sending you looks of pity every so often. Much like you, they were wondering when you were going to give up and shamefully admit that you had been stood up. You twiddled with your freshly polished fingers and checked your phone often as you nibbled on cold appetizers. It kept you busy since you had already tried calling thirteen times. Yet, it took the tenth couple eyeing you with concern on their way out for the embarrassment to finally make a bed under your skin. You ordered the first thing you could pronounce, and afterward, left the restaurant gripping your to-go plate as you looked at your phone one last time.
This experience wasn’t new, but you were already tired of having to find a restaurant that hadn’t seen what you looked like when you were in denial. It’s not like Steven didn’t want to come. It was the fact that he and Marc’s schedule clashed, and you were always at the receiving end of Marc’s negligence—you considered it forgetfulness to give him the benefit of the doubt.
Your journey home was entirely suffocated by unrelenting silence until you went walking into the elevator of your building just to see Marc there, looking just as tired as you were. He saw you coming from where he stood, but no matter how many times his fingers pressed the button, the elevator kept them open as a punishment. He was forced to witness the way your body clung to the dress you wore and how the ends of the skirt grazed over your smooth skin to mock him.
“Hi, Marc,” you said. You could tell by the way he clenched his jaw that it wasn’t Steven.
“Hi.”
The ride up had never been so long and you weren’t sure how to bring it up until you just spoke. “Hey, um, could you let Steven know he missed our date? I’m not sure if he tells you about them—”
“Yeah, something came up for me.” He hadn’t noticed, but his shoulders were tight as he kept his attention forward until the doors opened.
You followed after him with your shoes following the path he made and finally noticed how he held his side on his way to his flat. “Are you okay? Do you want me to—”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem fine,” you murmured.
Your first mistake was thinking you could put your warm hand on his chilling, broad shoulders and not cause him to nearly leap out of his own body. You had touched Steven countless times. However, it was the first time Marc had ever gotten a sense of what it felt like for himself.
Still, he didn’t wish to savor it in the slightest. “Pretending to worry is what you do with Steven. Not me.” He recoiled from the heat so harshly that he was already at his door and into his humble home before you could take your keys out.
Marc never got to see the way your face fell or how you clutched your keychain and shoved the metal key into your door. You disappeared into your home, begging your tears to give you time to close the door before they got it all over your dress. All this was while Marc was eyeing a photo of you by the fish tank that you had given to Steven while he took off his shoes.
As he pretended to look over persimmons, Marc watched you from a distance as your soft lips mouthed the lyrics of a song while your fingers glided over the peaches. You made it too easy sometimes and for that, he was thankful. He could spend his weekend researching—that was the word he liked to use— while you were unaware.
You glided through the other aisles, and he was careful to keep his head low and stay a few steps behind you while watching the way you smiled at a store employee while asking a question. Your shining teeth made him frown even deeper as he gripped his shopping cart.
His frustration kept on building throughout the day as he watched you carry through your laundry list of errands. Everywhere you went, he was a step behind with enough distance to go unannounced but close enough to slip your wallet back into your tote bag while you left it in your cart to have a look at some home décor. You really should have been more cautious of pick pocketers.
Landing a punch to a stranger wasn’t how he liked to spend his Sundays. Neither was lying on his bed while you were showering at home. The cardigan you had left with Steven on accident was under his nose as he brought the fragrance into his lungs. He had your Sunday schedule memorized to a point where he was used to the feeling of wanting to resist snaking his hands into his tight pants as he thought about how your hands were rubbing your thighs while he was playing with a Rubik’s Cube. For Marc, hell was Sunday afternoons at 3 PM.
For you, hell was the bus ride home looking at your phone and all the piling missed calls and texts from Steven? You deliberately avoided opening the voicemails and the messages in hopes that you’d have more time to think about what you wanted to do. Your plan was to speak to him on Monday when you felt better, or at least when you could fake it better.
Your walk to the elevator was less eventful than the day prior, but that didn’t keep you from reliving the day before, especially when you saw Steven sitting crisscrossed next to your door while he read a book with a sand-colored cover. You would have ignored him while playing Marc’s words on repeat if he hadn’t met you at your door.
“Hey, Steven.” You were hoping to keep it short and sweet so you could send him on his way gently with a promise that you’d talk to him when you weren’t so fatigued.
“Hey.” He was already rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants with the book abandoned on the floor as he got up. “I tried to call you but—is your phone okay?” You were always so good at answering your phone. “Sorry,” he shook his head. “Sorry. I mean, ‘are you okay?’”
“I couldn’t answer, because I was at work. I’m sorry.”
You didn’t usually work on Saturdays, but that was the least of Steven’s concerns. “B-But what about dinner? We said we’d meet each other there. And I went—And I went and you weren’t there.” He was doing that thing where he was speaking much too fast to figure it out himself and in any other circumstance you would have thought it was endearing, but the crack of his voice nearly pressed your heart so hard it would have stopped beating.
“Yeah,” you let out a sigh while you dug through your purse to find your keys. “I went yesterday and didn’t see you. I figured Marc lost track of time or something.”
“Today’s not Saturday, is it?” he asked while he licked his lips anxiously.
You were pleased that fishing for your key gave you a distraction, since you couldn’t bear to see his face fall again while he experienced a crushing realization that he had already gone through two times before.
“I’m afraid it’s not,” you looked up at him with an evident crease between your brows.. “I’m sorry you were there alone. Marc didn’t leave you a sticky note by the tank telling you?”
“No-no, no, he didn’t.” He looked back at his apartment at the end of the hall like he could see through walls. “At least, I don’t think so.”
You bitterly laughed to yourself to shrug off the hurt that was making room for itself in your pensive thoughts. “I don’t think he likes me very much.” What you said out loud was really meant for yourself.
“No, no, that can’t be—He likes you.”
“Steven, don’t lie to me,” you tried to keep your tone light hearted, but your façade was slipping.
“I’m not.” His wide eyes were becoming glassy, and his lips tightened into a line as he tried to fix the damage. “I swear.”
You nodded while unlocking the door. “I’m gonna head in, okay? I’m a little tired.”
“Wait,” he took your hand and made you notice how his clammy arms were desperately shaking. “I’m sorry.”
Steven saw the way your face relaxed, and the corner of your lift lifted lightly for a moment. He watched you come close to then give him an electric kiss on his cheek that made his ears too hot for comfort.
“Please, get some sleep tonight.” You watched him close his eyes as he felt your hands hold his visage tenderly. Your thumbs carefully moved back and forth over his cheek. “You look pale.” You examined his face as you saw his frown deepen and chose to ignore it. “And tell Marc to take it easy.”
“Why do I get the weird feeling you don’t want to do this anymore? Like be with me. It’s on your face. Are you upset with me? I get it if you want to go into your flat and avoid me for the rest of your life—”
“Hey, hey, don’t say that. Just give me some time to sort this all out mentally first.” You were referring to your thoughts as your finger slipped into his dark hair to calm him down, but it only sent a shudder pouring down his spine like cold water while his knees almost gave in.
“Is this a break? Or a breakup? Bloody hell, are we breaking up?—”
You gave him another kiss, but on his lips. Your warm skin was on his mouth while your hand fondly stroked his neck. It nearly caused him to become entirely lightheaded. His eyes were blown open the entire time from the moment he felt your kiss. You pulled away to get one last look at him.
“No, we’re not.” You placed your forehead onto his as you tried to have him matched your breathing. “I just want some time, maybe one or two days, to think. I’m telling you this because I enjoy being honest with you. Just give me some time to think over some things, okay?”
Steven nodded fervently at your words.
“Alright,” you smiled. His face got warmer. “See you later, gator.”
“Laters, gators,” he whispered as he felt your hand slip out of his.
If Steven could properly chew out Marc, he would, but instead he was stuck yelling at a mirror while a disinterested Marc was asking him to surrender his body so he could start off his soon-to-be long night.
“No, you don’t get to ask me that without answering me first!” Steven pointed.
“Good, God, Steven. Calm down.” Marc looked as uninterested as ever.
“You did this!” Now Steven was pacing. “I don’t get it. You have so many photos of her like a bloody creep,” he grabbed one of the many in the bathroom drawer to wave around. “But you’re the one giving her a hard time?” Steven never figured out what was said when he was gone, but with the way you spoke about Marc and the way Marc spoke about you, it didn’t take much afterward.
“What does this have to do with me not telling you that I made you miss your date?”
“Everything!” His fingers combed through his hair as he tried to imitate what you did to him to calm him down. “For once in my life, I got the courage to ask someone to date me and you’re pissing all over it. You’re just as obsessed with her, but you don’t want to admit it.”
Why would Marc want to admit? That would mean that he’d have to also confess to how sour he was about Steven getting to you first. It didn’t make sense. He was under the impression that he’d get you and Steven would just have to follow along, as always. So while he looked at you sleeping with the white noise machine on, he gripped the spare key of your flat that was meant for Steven. He had found a way to forcibly turn his jealousy into a lack of trust that you had good intentions with Steven.
What was supposed to be no more than two days thinking about your relationship and Marc’s choice words turned into a seven. You had been so consumed by Marc’s accusation that you stewed in your thoughts for so long that you feared seeing Steven in passing on your way to work. You rose early and returned home extremely late. All the while, Steven spent his days at the gift shop anxiously checking his phone while typing and deleting messages that he hoped to have enough courage to send.
This brought him back full circle on Sunday, knocking on your door. Your brief look through the peephole wasn’t enough to prepare you to see him again. When you opened the door, you were met with a nervously still Steven wearing a suit that he seemed to be drowning in.
He must have not expected you to actually answer the door because once he saw you were still in your work clothes, he panicked.
“Bollocks.” He quickly pulled out the card that you didn’t know he was holding. “I falafel about what happened.” His eyes followed the Hallmark card’s words. “I’m sorry.”
He practically shoved a bouquet of flowers into your hands when he nearly tripped over his shoes trying to hand it to you. Your bewildered expression must have frightened him even further, since he was already reaching into his bag to pull out a box of chocolate. Another small box fell out in the process as he fumbled to give you the heart-shaped chocolate box. In utter panic, he brought himself to his knees to pick it up, but he stayed on his knees to give it to you while you were trying to balance the things he had already given you.
“Wait-Wait, Steven, honey, are you trying to propose?” you asked calmly as you tried to mask your panic.
“W-What?” he looked up at you from where he was on his knees with his once combed hair now disheveled. “No-no!”
You nodded.
“Do you want me to?” he asked.
“Jesus, no,” you giggled.
“It’s just a pin of a scarab,” he said as he opened the box. “for your tote bag,” he whispered the last part as he placed the box in your hand.
“I can’t accept all this.”
“But I haven’t even given you the peaches, yet.”
“Steven,” you tried to hold back your laughter while you placed the gifts on your kitchen counter as he waited at the door with bated breath. You returned to him and decided to cut him some slack instead of refusing his gifts. “Thank you. I—”
He looked at the palm of his hand, at the poorly scribbled checklist he had made just in case he forgot something.
“Have dinner with me, please,” he asked. “It’s at my place. New Gus will be there too. Nothing too serious—unless you want it to be.”
You took his hand and stroked them as you tried to calm him down from what he no doubt had rehearsed many times over. “Give me a few minutes to get dressed, since you’re looking so dapper.”
“I hope this all didn’t cost too much,” you spoke as you looked at the giant stuffed crocodile in the corner. Steven was more focused on how your lips moved with red lipstick painted over them that he hadn’t heard a word that came out of your mouth. “Steven?”
“Yeah?” he was still frazzled.
“Please, don’t tell me that Donna took the stuffed animal out of your paycheck.”
“I won’t,” he nodded.
“Steven!”
“This is our apology to you.”
“Our?”
“I’m hoping Marc is going to apologize, too. Eventually…” he looked off into space briefly. “Honestly, whenever. I’m still kind of lost with how this works.”
“Have you fed New Gus?” He didn’t even notice how swiftly you changed the conversation.
“Oh, no.”
“Poor thing is watching us eat while you haven’t fed him,” you began walking to the tank to retrieve the fish food but when it wasn’t in sight, you were already heading toward Steven’s bed to get it off of his nightstand. By the time you returned, there was a silence that filled the room that made you uncomfortable as you fed Gus. You could feel a firm set of eyes that let you know that Marc was staring.
“Hey, Marc.” You tried to keep your voice level.
“Hey.”
You turned to see him eyeing the takeout food that you had spent twenty minutes assuring Steven was delicious.
“He told me you wanted to say something.” Even as you returned to your seat to face him, he still hadn’t said a word, and you knew he wouldn’t if you didn’t speak up.
“Yeah,” he was struck by your scent since your perfume was scrambling his thoughts until he went completely silent for much too long.
“Look, if it’s gonna kill you, it’s fine. You don’t have to be here. I’m sure Steven can keep me entertained for the rest of the night.” You couldn’t even stand to look at him, so you were already heading back to New Gus—you really needed to pick a better name for him. Steven and Marc’s hands were the same, yet when he took you by your wrist, he felt colder.
“Entertain?” he whispered with a sickly smirk.
“That’s not what I meant—Look if you’re setting out to make me the bad guy—”
“You’re making it really easy to.”
“You’re the one being difficult. All I’ve ever been is kind to you.” He was pushing you over the precipice.
"I don’t need your pity.”
Your weeks of frustration and denying he was likely keeping Steven away from the dinners you planned were pouring over the fire and causing billowing smoke. “Why don’t you fucking trust me like Steven does?”
“I just can’t seem to get why you accepted his advances so eagerly.” He hadn’t gotten as loud as you were, but he was so, so close.
“For starters,” you tore his grip from your wrist. “He’s much nicer.”
“I can be nice,” he said as he got closer. He didn’t sound sincere, but rather like he was being challenged. “I-I can be nicer… funnier, better.”
“Marc, what are you going on about?” your eyes feverishly danced over his face in confusion. “Can we just go back to how it was before?”
“Like when we were just neighbors and Steven was following you like some lap dog,” he hissed so strongly you felt the wind on your nose.
“No, when I’d drop off first aid supplies and pretended not to see the photos you have of me on your mirror,” you spat.
You should have seen it coming when he had gotten so close with his towering stance. But when Marc kissed you, it sent you walking back to catch your balance, and you were stunned. It was enough to have you pull back to have a look at him to see if it was actually Steven. Yet he wasn’t. You could tell by the look in his eyes and by the way he went in for another kiss. His lips took over yours as you still were trying to catch your bearings and remedy your confusion. His teeth eventually moved from your mouth to your neck as he held your head about by his jaw.
Marc could hear the shake in your breaths as you gripped the sleeves of his suit and bunched the cotton fabric into your fist. His sloppy kisses littered your neck and chest like acid rain and made you wonder how you had already made it to the kitchen counter. He went from holding your face by its jaw to running his hands along your arms, as he was already trying to venture to where your skirt and thighs met.
He went back to kissing your red lips and swallowing the whimpers that came from your mouth. He was only going deeper as you gripped the edge of the kitchen counter to keep you grounded and stop the spinning.
Calloused hands started climbing up your dress and toying with your underwear before you had to catch him by his wrist and practically plead with your eyes. You didn’t want to go further and just wanted to talk to him, but he must have taken the hesitation for something else because he was already jumping to his own conclusions.
Just as quickly as it all started, his body slowly became stiff until his kisses decrescendoed into nothing but a whisper when his lips called out your name.
“Steven?” you pulled away. You felt the change in his posture and how quickly his hands tore from your body.
“S-Sorry.” He was taken aback by the position he had you in and cleared his throat as he peeled his hands from your body and tucked it into his pockets.
You climbed down from where you were and fixed your dress while he desperately tried to ask what had happened.
“Nothing you have to worry about,” you lightly dismissed as you grabbed your things. “It went fine. Thank you for the wonderful evening, but I’ve got to head in early since I’m taking Benny’s shift tomorrow.”
“Hey, don’t forget this.” He was practically sprinting to meet you at the door with the stuffed crocodile while you made sure the smile on your face was still there.
“Thank you. Goodnight.”
“Night.” he awkwardly drew closer to kiss your forehead before you left and slipped into your room down the hall.
Marc had you reeling the entire night until the sun swallowed the moon as you thought about the way your body quaked while he was devouring your neck and left wet hickeys in his wake. In another bed, Steven was toying with the Rubik’s cube as he thought about how he was going to fix things once more. Marc had made it seem like the only option was to love one when you had always wanted to try to love both.
ik it’s been a hot moment since i’ve interacted with this blog. but i want everyone to know that i go through every single reblog and look if y’all put anything in the tags
just found your blog through your five hargreeves imagine which was fantastic. ⭐ feel free to do some director commentary on whatever imagine you've been wanting to talk about 😊 wonderful job writing!!
i’m so excited to finally do this!! i’ve wanted to for a while but never felt like the time was right.
i’m going to be providing commentary on “the silent treatment,” which you can read here. i was on the fence about doing commentary for this fic, because i wanted most aspects to be up to the reader’s interpretation. so, please, READ IT BEFORE YOU READ THIS!!!!
(also: i provided alt text for each image! some of the body’s of text screenshotted are cut off short due to the limit of alt text, but i tried to summarize it as well as possible.)
starting off— this little detail is thrown in, and then the reader calls him freddy the rest of the story.
fun fact: i live in indiana!!! writing for anything stranger things is always fun because i can add little details like this, it feels like i have a little secret no one else does lol.
these details are vital because it shows just how horrible this relationship has gotten. whether it was always this way, or just became this bad during the “rough patch” is up to the reader’s interpretation. this is a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad relationship. which makes the following events even more disturbing.
(underscores before and after words mark which words will be italicized when copy and pasted into tumblr) this paragraph is probably my favorite, because it could be interpretted in so many ways. i think it could be viewed two ways: billy breaking through the mindflayers control to talk to y/n, or the mindflayer slowly understanding and learning the way billy feels about y/n and using it to his advantage.
this paragraph is much like the latter: it can be interpreted in so many different ways. is this billy breaking through and trying to send a message to y/n? or is it just the mindflayer’s manipulation tactics?
i imagine this moment is pure mindflayer. y/n is able to overpower billy for just a second, even though they weren’t really meaning to, and the mindflayer immediately ends the moment.
THIS. this is the one i’m the most on the fence about discussing, but fuck it. this is purposefully super open-ended, to the point where i almost changed it because i wasn’t sure if anyone would understand what it was supposed to mean. this could still have multiple interpretations, but here’s what i had in mind when writing: the mindflayer takes y/n to the warehouse, and is able to take advantage of them due to their sympathy for billy and flay them. i imagine that, if this story were to continue, y/n would fill in the same roll heather does in the show. i’ve even debated writing a sequel with that plot.
and that’s it for the “directors” commentary!!! thank you so much for sending in the ask and giving me the opportunity to discuss this fic. it’s probably the best i’ve ever written honestly— and it’s also one of my favorites.
request from anon: sup biotch. gimme some angst with billy hargrove x reader. she’s going through some angsty stuff and he tells her he wont leave her and they kiss in his car or somethin. i love you
warnings: angst, cussing, bad writing, an ending that’s pretty vague but i hope y’all will understand
a/n: sorry it took me so long to finally write a request! i’m back on track now and i plan on writing a lot more. send more requests in!
request from @thefightingfangirl: Could you please do five x female reader with the prompt “Come here, you can sit in my lap until I’m done working” where the reader wants five’s attention. Maybe with making out and neck kisses if possible💕💕 Thank you!
warnings: cussing, implied violence and injuries, angst if you squint but mostly TOOTH ROTTING fluff, two domestic bastards, five’s an ass but it’s cute
a/n: the request asks for a female reader, but it can work with any gender really! this is literally 100% domestic bliss, i love this bastard x bastard relationship dynamic i’ve created.
gif by @wvattoleff (i’m sorry tumblr ruined the quality of this)
i really appreciate the support for this! if you like try and get more comfortable, check out my other works as well! my most recent is a change of plans, a diego x reader story :)
