Summary: Marc never expected to see his childhood friend Simone ever again. To Simone, Marc may as well have been dead. However, when Simone met Steven 15 years after Marc disappeared, she couldn't help but notice how familiar he was.
⚠️ 18+!! | 2,816 Words | Third-person omniscient | Dark?fic/Angst/Eventual Smut | AU/AT | Warnings: Heavy language, OC with religious trauma, childhood trauma, sexual trauma. Mention of childhood sexual, physical, and emotional abuse, the effects of child abuse in adulthood, murder, suicide, alcohol use, description alluding to smut
A/N: I update warnings with each chapter. Only proceed if you can handle the themes included in the warnings. I wrote this entirely as a trauma dump.
Minors DNI, DL;DR, if I miss a warning, please let me know.
Chapter list
"I don't care if we on the run
Nothin' matters when we one on one
Lookin' at us 'cause we goin' dumb
We on the same wave, you the same way
You know I be down if it's with you
Where we goin'? Baby, what's the move?
We should take a trip up to the moon
Get a room"
-"Slide" by H.E.R.
It was a face-off from the second the door closed to the apartment. The kind of argument Marc and Steven had only face-to-mirror, locked in the bathroom.
Steven wanted to call her, ask her out, and get to know her for himself.
Marc wanted to throw her number away, change his name, and flee the city.
"She didn't recognize us!" Steven exclaimed, trying to build a case for himself. Marc detested this,
"She will. You give it time, and she will. She's smart as hell. No wonder she's a goddamn doctor."
"This isn't one of those situations where you poofed, and she never heard from you again, is it?" Steven asked, reflecting on Marc's track record. Though with Layla, it wasn't his fault, Steven didn't know the whole story of what happened with Simone.
Marc wasn't sure where to begin or if he even should. His history with Simone goes back to when his brother was still alive and conveniently ended when he left town at 18.
"Look, when I left Chicago, the last person I spoke to was my dad. She didn't know." Marc finally answered. Steven looked at Marc in the mirror with disappointment,
"Damnit, Marc!" He shouted. Marc tried to defend himself,
"Moni's family wasn't the greatest either, and she had all these plans so we would leave together, but she had dreams and ambitions. I didn't wanna drag her down. Now look where she is."
Steven turned away from the mirror and left the bathroom, ranting about how, once again, Marc ruined their chances of companionship before Steven ever had the opportunity. Marc sat back, listening, knowing Steven would never understand no matter how many ways he explained why it wouldn't work.
"It's really something, innit? I get keen on someone only to find out you broke thei-" Steven stopped pacing and ranting abruptly. Marc could have sworn it took him a full minute to finally speak up again. "Did you love her?"
Marc took control of the body to answer. "Man, she was the only love I knew then. We were the closest you could get without being family or dating," Marc started. Steven couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I can't believe she's here, of all places," Marc said in a whisper to himself.
Steven refused to give in. He wanted to see Simone again, and he was going to make sure he would. "I'm calling her."
"Like hell you are, Steven! You think you can have a happy relationship and hide the fact that you live in the body of a ghost from her past forever?"
"We'll cross that bridge when we get there. I'll go out with Simone, you'll remember all the good times you had, and you'll want to work it out. We all win."
Marc started to realize how mental it all sounded. The very idea of talking to Simone after all these years seemed gut-wrenching, but he supposed there was a reason Steven existed.
"You're serious about her, eh?"
"I really am, mate."
While Marc and Steven went back and forth over what to do, the woman they argued over was eating a salad and texting her flatmate about the encounter.
Joyce: Sounds weird. Probably a stalker, be careful.
Simone: Idk he was attractive and lovely as can be
Joyce: So are most serial killers lol
Joyce: Or was that not your thesis? 🤣
Simone: Remind me again who the psy is here ?
Joyce: Fuck off. Just don't let a creep get in your snatch again, or in my flat. Ttyl
Simone: 🖕
Simone chuckled to herself, thinking about the ex that Joyce was referring to as she forked up bits from her salad. Lettuce, cucumber, tiny tomato. She actually wanted Harbo's twin snakes, but she couldn't figure out where the craving came from.
The sweet and sour candies used to be her favorite as a kid, but she hadn't had them in a decade, maybe more.
Well, that's not true. I had some last time I was in Chica-
Her phone dings, causing a disruption in her thought. She saw it was a text from an unknown number instead of Joyce this time.
Hello, It's Steven. Just making sure you have my number, also.
Simone read the text in his voice, even following it with the nervous laugh she imagined him doing.
What a sweetheart.
When Steven called Simone to see if she was free for dinner that Friday, he didn't expect her to say yes, even if he was hopeful she would. He could have jumped for joy when she took him up on it.
Now, he was getting ready to meet her, and he felt a lump in his throat that wouldn't go away.
"I'ma be sick, bruv." Steven said nervously as he buttoned his shirt. Marc stared back at him in the mirror,
"You're gonna be sick? I can't believe you're dragging me into this."
"I'm the one she's expecting, not you." Steven scoffed.
Marc wanted to punch him but realized Moni might end up doing that instead. "Yeah, and when she realizes, you'll be getting that hook."
Though Simone still felt that he was familiar, she knew she was with someone entirely different. So different; she was relieved to take a break from the ordinary shitty men she was used to.
We may have known each other in a different life. She thought.
Regardless, Steven couldn't believe how quickly his cares and nerves melted away once they started chatting. At first, he was even more anxious when he saw her in the most stunning dark blue dress, but she quickly loosened him up.
"Can't help but notice the American accent. Where're you from?" He asked.
"Chicago, Illinois, born and raised." She answered.
Steven only asked because he needed to get to know her for himself, no matter what Marc told him. One question left both of them curious, though. "What brought you to London?" He wondered, tearing a piece off of the appetizer rolls.
Simone knew the question would come up, but she wanted to avoid getting into heavy stuff on the first date. She decided to answer honestly but without detail. "I have an internet friend from here who offered me a place to stay when I was having a rough time, and I fell in love. I couldn't stay away."
"In love with the city or someone?" Steven asked, interested in everything she had to say. Maybe her voice made things seem easier to listen to. He was convinced he could hear her read the phonebook to him.
She shrugged, "Oh, gee, I haven't been in love for as long as I can remember." She said. It wasn't exactly the answer to his question, but it was truthful nonetheless.
Dinner conversation became more casual as they became more comfortable with each other. Simone still could shake the feeling that she knew this man, but she wasn't convinced she had ever met anyone with such kind eyes.
She got into some banter but continued to crack jokes and get to know him. She was confident that he was too good to be true and knew she had to pull out the big guns to test his integrity.
"Can you keep a secret?" She asked, leaning in closer to him. They had long since finished their meals but were far from leaving, too interested to part yet.
Steven leaned in closer as well, "Who would I tell?" He asked. Simone thought for a moment, realizing it didn't matter much unless they knew people mutually.
Only Steven and Marc knew they would be in on this secret together.
She felt it would either be the biggest mistake to tell him this so soon or the best idea she ever had. She took a deep breath,
"I was a dominatrix to pay my way through university." She spilled.
Steven's eyes got wide, making Simone nervous about his response.
Have I piled on too much too soon?
"Wow, really? What's that like?" He asked. He knew what it meant but wasn't entirely sure how it worked. Still, the image of her in leather was strangely arousing to him.
Simone kissed her teeth, having never been asked that before. "Well, I never let the clients touch me or anything. Wealthy men would pay a ton to just be humiliated. I didn't do all that for long, though." She explained, not once diverting her eyes from his. She needed to get a read on his honest feelings, as the last thing she needed was someone in her life who wasn't sex-positive again.
Steven was interested and didn't mind the fun fact about Simone. "Did you... like it?" He asked. She shrugged,
"Weirdly enough, yes. It was a good change of pace. I spent so long out of control of my own life, and I was finally able to take charge of something." She admitted.
Marc was listening to get talk about this nonchalantly and was in shock by it. The girl he knew would have been embarrassed to speak of these things, even if she thought about them. She was taught these things were terrible, unholy, immoral, and ugly.
How long did it take for her to figure all this out?
Having just met Simone, Steven was delighted at how carefree and open she was. He was very fond of everything about her, down to the snort when she laughed.
Simone offered Steven a ride home at the night's end, and he accepted. The car ride was just as lively as the dinner conversation, though not nearly as long due to him not living far from the venue.
"How about I pick you up at the same time next Friday?" Simone asked as they pulled up to his building. Steven's heart fluttered at getting a second date, and he accepted happily.
The week passed as any other week would: Simone had her appointments, and Steven had Marc in his ear, trying to get him to cancel the date before it was too late.
None of these things stopped the pair from having the other in their mind, and the days leading up to the date were consumed by sending memes back and forth.
Steven: Have you decided what we're doing on Friday?
Simone: Still stuck between a couple options. You'll love them!
Steven: I'll be happy to do whatever so long as you're there. 😋
The real issues started after the second date. Simone and Steven had a fantastic time bowling, Simone wiping the floor with him and bragging incessantly about it the whole ride to Steven's apartment.
When they got there, however, the air in the car felt thick and hot despite the cold weather. Once Simone's eyes locked onto Steven's and their laughter died down, there wasn't a single person on the planet left. For Steven, there was only Simone, and vice versa.
Marc knew what was coming. He saw it in her eyes.
Steven felt like he would almost drool on himself, staring into those big doe eyes.
"Can I kiss you?" He asked her, sounding slightly timid.
Though he was the one who asked, Simone wasn't one to waste an opportunity to leave a mark. She unbuckled her seatbelt and lunged for him, leaning over the center console and meeting his lips with hers.
Never had Steven felt a kiss that warmed him all over like this. At first, he was surprised but found himself guided into it by her. When her tongue slipped between his lips, he was delighted it still faintly tasted like the fruity candy they shared at the bowling alley.
Simone was thrilled by his eagerness to kiss back, yet she felt a strong familiarity with it. Maybe it was his lips, hands on her back, or the tenderness of the whole thing.
It was new, yet not.
Had to have been in another life.
She pulled away with a grin that plastered itself on her face, feeling like it was stuck there for the foreseeable future, and she proposed a third date, just the same as she did before. Steven agreed once again.
Though Steven was on cloud nine, Marc was pissed and didn't waste any time letting Steven know.
"Do you have any idea how far up shit's creek you are?"
Steven shrugged, "The creek's quite beautiful from where I am. Jealous?" he asked.
Marc had never known him to be so careless. Like he hadn't thought any of this through. Like Steven expected a normal, happy relationship.
Marc was okay with letting him play the boyfriend for a bit, but it was clear that it would get out of hand, and Steven would end up heartbroken.
"I was gonna let you crash and burn and learn your lesson, but you need to know something. Simone's been giving you the eyes." Marc warned.
Steven, carefree for a moment, suddenly cared a lot more. "The eyes?"
"If she gives you the eyes, she wants to sleep with you, and Steven, you have no idea what to even do with a girl like her," Marc warned.
He only knew from experience. How she gave him those eyes once before, he acted on it, and it ended up being one of his biggest mistakes.
Back then, she wanted to, but they didn't. She's different now.
Steven was quiet after that, panicking internally over this information. It occurred to him that, aside from the body he resided in having experience, he, as a consciousness, has never slept with anyone.
"You gotta help me, Marc."
"Fat chance, man."
"That's bullshit! If it were any other woman, you'd help me."
"No, you're right, but I specifically asked you to keep Simone out of this, and now here you are, the third date planned, and you haven't even considered the fact that she'd wanna have sex with you at some point. You dug this hole. You figure it out." Marc snapped.
Steven started to feel guilty for being selfish about this. He had considered the prospect of sex but didn't think he would make it this far. He expected to be rejected by now. "I'm sorry, Marc."
"Oh, no, it's okay, buddy. Still not helping you." He replied in a tone that didn't seem like it was okay at all.
Marc was jealous after sitting in the background of every interaction with Simone that Steven had.
Every time he made her laugh, every time she gave him those eyes. He wanted to take over for the kiss but knew that would be hard to explain.
Simone was just the same as when they were teenagers, but now she's come out of her shell. She was successful, confident, and her own woman in every right. Marc felt that if he had kept her around back then, she wouldn't be anywhere near where she is now.
But no matter how much he tried to tell himself it was a bad idea to have her back: he missed her so much it hurt.
It was every bit Simone's intention to sleep with Steven as soon as he allowed. She felt the chemistry was undeniable, and if that kiss indicated how that would go, it would be a great time.
Simone knew how most men thought, and in many ways, she had conditioned herself to think how a man would but with the rationality of a woman. This developed for her when she finally left home, started university, and got to know people outside her community.
She spent a great deal of time pondering having sex with Steven, almost enough to make her believe she was a nymphomaniac.
Mama would say I'm a whore. A jezebel with impure thoughts.
Simone hated when her mother's voice popped into her head, but she was typically successful in drowning her out with her own thoughts.
Does he top or bottom? Doesn't matter. Does the bump in his pants deceive me? Probably won't matter. Does he know where the clit is? That matters. A lot.
Simone couldn't imagine him being a mediocre lay with looks like his but wondered if she could get past it if he were. She had a great time with Steven and hoped, prayed even, that he wasn't as shy in the sack as he was outside of it.
If he was, she wondered, would he let me take over?
Summary: Marc never expected to see his childhood friend Simone ever again. To Simone, Marc may as well have been dead. However, when Simone met Steven 15 years after Marc disappeared, she couldn't help but notice how familiar he was.
18+!! | 1,417 Words | Third-person omniscient | Dark?fic/Angst/Eventual Smut | AU/AT |
Warnings: OC with religious trauma, childhood trauma, sexual trauma. Mention of childhood sexual, physical, and emotional abuse, the effects of child abuse in adulthood, murder, suicide, alcohol use, drug mention, all the parents in this story are terrible, The only saving grace is Steven
A/N: The songs used for this fic may not have anything to do with the story besides my thoughts when I hear the chosen lyrics. That being said, the chapter titles won't always make sense. It's just an idea I had.
I update warnings with each chapter. Only proceed if you can handle the themes included in the warnings. I wrote this entirely as a trauma dump.
Lastly, Marc/Steven being involved and the addition of a traumatized psychiatrist is in no way meant to romanticize, fetishize, or otherwise; mental illness or illnesses/trauma.
Minors DNI, DL;DR, if I miss a warning, please let me know.
Chapter list
"Never thought I would be without you
I wish you love, I wish you well
I wish you roses while you can still smell 'em
With pretty flowers can come the bee sting"
-"I Wish you Roses" by Kali Uchis
I'm not great at writing like you are or brave enough to tell you all of this to your face. I don't even know if I'll be able to give you this note, but I want to try. I think you're great, and you should also see that in yourself. I like your hair and how soft it always is, same with your skin. I like the clothes you wear even though you don't always like them, you always look good. You're super funny and smart as fuck, and you're really pretty. I can't stop thinking about how cool it would be to not have to cut through the woods to get to your house anymore. Maybe we could get a place after graduation? I know your mom only likes me sometimes, and this is probably really weird to read, but I'm okay with just being best friends if you don't like me like that. I don't want things to be weird, so we can still run away and play bingo in the old folks home when we're 70. No matter what, I love you Moni.
-Count Spector
P.S. if you read this and you don't like it please don't yell at me.
It was an ordinary Tuesday afternoon when they met.
It likely wouldn't have happened if Steven hadn't insisted that he and Marc go see an actual therapist, and Marc finally broke, telling him to go on his own.
Ever since the divorce was finalized, Marc had been acting this way. They both obviously had their issues, but Marc was convinced that Steven would likely be his only companion again from then on.
That was what drove Steven to try and seek professional guidance. How do two people living in a single body branch out and get to know other people? He took the first step by finding a psychiatrist in the area.
Steven wasn't sure what to expect when he picked Dr. Dooley, a polite-looking gent who was likely 60 years old. He just knew one person with an open appointment slot had experience with their problems.
He arrived 20 minutes early in hopes of getting their paperwork filled out and getting in sooner. Neither he nor Marc expected to walk into the waiting room and be stopped dead in their tracks.
Directly behind the reception desk was a wooden door with a metal plaque that dawned "Dr. Simone Fredrick" on it, and to the side was a crystal clear glass window to the office.
The blinds were drawn, and they spotted a woman in a yellow button-up top through that window. This woman had long dark hair, skin that took the same tone as a cup of London Fog, and the sweetest smile that fit perfectly to the lower half of her face. She was chatting with another man who was barely visible through the window but was clearly the doctor they came to see.
She was the most incredible woman Steven had ever laid eyes on. It was terrifying for him.
Without further deliberation, Marc backed them out of the office and outside. "Steven, Holy shit!" He said.
"She was gorgeous, yeah?" Steven replied. Marc popped back in, feeling slightly panicky.
"We can't go back in there."
Steven felt Marc's anxiety but couldn't pinpoint why he was suddenly feeling this way. "Why the bloody hell not? We have an appointment!"
"I know that woman, or I knew her, at least," Marc said. Steven took control, thinking he had never seen her before, and stepped over to look through the glass doors.
There she was, still talking to Dr. Dooley. She turned her head in their direction, and he moved to the side of the building again before she could spot them.
"How do you know her?" Steven asked, trying to make sense of it.
"We were friends in school. She was probably the only friend I had. She's-"
"She's so attractive it's unreal. I gotta meet her." Steven insisted. Marc took back over without warning and began walking in the opposite direction of the office.
"Nope. Absolutely not. Odds are she'll recognize me, and it'll be weird."
Just as quickly, Steven changed their direction. "She won't recognize me, though." He said. Marc wouldn't budge on the subject. Knowing Simone, she would clock him right away. He pivoted and began walking the other way again.
"Right, the guy who shares a whole fuckin' face with me. Genius! We're going home."
"Why are you the one chickening out?" Steven asked, stopping them where they were, realizing to passersby they must look nuts pacing back and forth.
"Because I know she's gonna take one good look at us and say 'Marc motherfucking Spector' and hit me! And she's got a ruthless right hook that I don't think either of us wanna be on the business end of."
As he spoke, he started taking off further down the sidewalk.
Under no circumstances are we coming back to this place. Moni looks happy, let's not fuck that up. Marc thought to himself. Steven had just about given in to Marc's insistence.
"Excuse me?" They heard a sweet, American voice speak up from behind them. They stopped and turned around slowly to find Simone, who had seen them looking through the door after all, waiting for them to respond.
Steven got in the driver's seat, and Marc retreated back to his corner of their collective brain.
"Oh, hi." Steven greeted.
Simone couldn't quite place it: she had seen this man before. Somewhere, somehow. She was surprised that he had a local accent, seeing as she didn't know many locals, particularly ones this gorgeous. She figured there wasn't any harm in coming out and asking.
"Do I know you? I saw you from inside, and I could've sworn-"
"I don't believe we've had the pleasure," Steven said, holding his hand out. "Steven Grant," He introduced himself as casually as he could muster. She was even more beautiful up close.
Though Simone found him charming, she indeed hadn't met him before. She stuck her hand out and shook,
"Simone Fredrick." She greeted. She found him quite handsome when he wasn't creeping through her office door. So much so that their handshake was dragging on a bit longer than average.
The pair realized this at the same time and pulled their hands away. Simone gestured to the building they were standing by, realizing there was zero context to how she spotted him. "I work just inside there, by the way. I'm taking lunch now, but I can help if you were looking for someone through that door." She said, followed by a laugh.
Steven found the humor in it, realizing they hadn't backed out soon enough and admiring how adorable she was about teasing him for it. "Just never been in that building before. Wanted to see what it was all about... psychiatry and all." He told her awkwardly.
Simone sensed this was a lie, but Steven spoke up again before she could overthink it. "You got a business card?" He asked.
There was silence between them for a second as Simone thought about it. Business card? Like, he wants my office number? Who am I, Patrick Bateman?
"I don't, actually. But-" Simone stopped and dug through her bag for a moment, pulling out a pen and an old punch card to a bubble tea place nearby. She put the card on the brick wall and wrote out her office number before, in a feat of spontaneity, she also wrote her personal cell number. "The first one is the number to the office, with my direct extension. The other is my cell." She told him as the card changed hands.
Steven looked at the card and smiled, noticing how professional her handwriting looked and how she crossed her sevens. "I'll be using these." He told her. He took a second to think if he should ask her to lunch right then and there but realized how quiet Marc was.
Shit, he thought. I should get home and talk to him about this.
"I should get going. It was nice meeting you, Simone." Steven said, backing up down the sidewalk. Simone flashed him a million-dollar grin and nodded,
