#and then jake and steven coming to cheer him on and be with him at the end of everything

[therealraewest]

[queers-gambit]

What Goes Around, Comes Around

prompt: ( requested ) Billy's known for his temper and being obsessed with his pretty little girlfriend - which gets her severely injured by his past transgressions.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!cheerleader!reader reader and Billy are both 18+, seniors in high school

word count: 6.7k+

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

note: you're a liar if you didn't immediately start singing Justin Timberlake's "What Goes Around... Comes Around".

warnings: remember there are different responses to trauma! some people shut down, stop talking; others jabber and chatter nervously. reader is the latter. we got angst, we got literal hurt and comfort, established relationship. term "going postal" is used, cursing, technically underage drinking, not edited, author mildly gave up at the end. triggering content: depictions of physical violence, depictions of injury and blood, depiction of abuse, violent plots, Billy's girl gets physically assaulted (but it's minimally detailed).

DO NOT read if this content can potentially trigger you. you are NOT missing anything, you will miss NOTHING by skipping this, but i do try to keep the details as neutral as possible. again, prioritize yourself, mental health, and emotional state - this ain't worth the read if it's gonna upset you, i promise. author loves you all

"That's fucking her, I swear to God."

"You sure?"

"100%. That's Billy's little bitch he's obsessed with."

The three guys smirked at one another, eyeing you across the living room as you giggled and drank with a few friends in adorable, fashion forward outfits. Someone started a game of beer pong, you on the sidelines to cheer, giving them a full-show of your form.

"She's hot," Jake mused. "I can see why he keeps her so close."

"Nah, not tonight," Lawrence frowned, "heard they got in some huge fight at school. Like, she walked home and he sped off in his car."

"Hm, heard he's ridiculously protective of her... She must've really pissed him off," the third boy, Steven, nodded. "So, he's not here tonight?"

"Doubt it," Jake nodded.

"Go find out," Steven advised. "There, the basketball bros - one of them would know. Or a cheerleader," he eyed the crowd. "Chrissy's over there, Brittany's beside her - they'd be the best bet in my mind."

"We seriously considering this?" Lawrence asked with a small, nervous chuckle. "I mean, it's kinda crazy, isn't it? We're gonna send Billy Hargrove a message by roughing up his girl? There's not some better way?"

"I'd love to hear it," Steven scoffed. "Billy's too comfortable at the top of the school, broke my fucking nose and deviated Jake's septum. Didn't he fuck your sister the first week he was here, Lawrence?"

"I mean - "

"Broke her fucking heart, didn't he?" Jake tacked on.

"Well, yeah," Lawrence sighed, shrugging.

"You tell me, dude, was that shit fair?"

"No," Lawrence looked down.

"So, yeah, I know, it's bad to hit a lady - but what about my boot? Huh?" Steven smirked, nodding. "Go find out what you can. Last thing we need is Billy walkin' in the party, right?"

Jake nodded with enthusiasm, leaving Lawrence behind. He hesistated but then did as Steven asked; asking the present basketball team members if Billy gave indication he was coming. The cheerleaders assured he wouldn't dare show up when you were there after a very public fight, and if he did, it would be to cause another scene.

So, after reporting back to Steven, a plan was formed. Lawrence didn't seem fully on board, but in an effort to save his own skin, he went along with what Jake and Steven were plotting - even if that meant roughing up a woman. Something his mama and grandmama vehemently taught him not to do...

Something churned in his stomach when he heard how the two lads were nearly foaming at the mouth to get their revenge. So, he casually went to grab another drink - pausing where a few of your friends were. "Oi," he whispered, earning their attention.

"Hey, Law," Chrissy smiled.

"Hey, Chris," he sniffled, glancing around. "Listen, uh, you seen Billy 'round?"

"No? Why?"

"Hmm, just, uh... Heard his girl was all upset, thought maybe her drinking all that much was a bad idea without him around."

"Oh," Chrissy blinked, looking up at her boyfriend, Jason, as he approached the group with two drinks in hand. "I didn't think about it like that, Law."

"What's wrong?" Jason asked.

"No, nothing, Lawrence just pointed out how shitty it is to drink without someone watching your back," she pouted.

He nodded, "You lose your friends, man?"

"No, just tryna look out," Lawrence shrugged. "Few girls here drinking a lot, not a lot of defenses 'round them."

Jason frowned, "That's kinda their man's job, isn't it?"

"What if their man isn't here?"

"I'm gonna be right back," Chrissy smiled, parting ways with her girlfriend in tow - and when Law looked, they were using the kitchen telephone. He prayed they were phoning the Hargrove residence.

Lawrence sighed in slight relief and nodded to Jason; the white boy just nodding back silently and letting the other athlete pass him by to head back for Jake and Steven. He grabbed an unopened beer on his way to maintain appearances.

"Hey, we got it," Jake smirked at the third boy, "she just went outside, we should move now."

"Huh?" Law mumbled.

"C'mon," Steven growled, pushing off the mantle and stalking for the backdoors to follow your retreating form.

"Wait, what're we doing?" Law asked, trying to keep up with the drunken, elongated strides of the two dickheads he called 'friends'. "Hey! Guys, c'mon - what's going on?"

"Just - shut up, pussy boy, let's go, fuckin' keep up," Steven sneered, shoving the glass door out of his way and nearly cracking it.

Outside, the in-ground pool was alight with multicolored lights. There were teenagers littered all around the pool deck; some lounging and some standing, all drinking. There was a kegstand in play, ping pong table hosting another game of Beer Pong, and the thick stench of cigarette smoke in the air.

"She's over there," Jake pointed, their sights turning to see you leaning over to huff on your cigarette while Tammy May Flipsen lit the end of it. Your smile was genuine as you thanked her, just stepping two feet away to gaze up at the stars - a perfect time to strike.

The alcohol in everyone's system made them slow, vulnerable, and downright stupid; leaving Steven and Jake the opportunity to seize either of your arms and literally rush you around the corner of the house without anyone intervening.

Once in the remote side yard, the sickening plan commenced.

Lawrence could barely approach, managing to watch with tears in his eyes as the noises of the party masked the noises of pain you emitted; two nearly full-grown men took out their anger towards your boyfriend on you. You cried, begged for reprieve, sounded so confused and broken that it shattered Lawrence's heart - briefly thinking what if someone did this to his sister...

That made him spring into action. "Hey! No! No, this ain't right! Get off her!" Lawrence barked, shoving the two away from your body on the ground. "That's enough - back off - fuck is wrong with you!?"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" Steven demanded.

"Bitch has it coming!"

"What? You fuckin' her, too? Got you pussy whipped like Billy Boy?"

"Just fuck off, beating on a girl!" Lawrence snapped, but it was a huge mistake. Jake and Steven shared a single look before launching at the third boy, beating him as they had you - but much harder. He swore he earned a concussion, their heels stomping his neck, collarbones, wrists, ribs, ankles; exactly the same as they did to you.

"Tryna defend her now!?" Jake heaved, giving a swift kick to Lawrence's kidney. "Huh? You're so scared of Billy but you're gonna mess with his girl?" He laughed. "She must have a magic cunt or something!"

"You're so fucking pathetic, you have to beat up a girl!?" Law shot right back, earning a swift kick to the jaw from the lad that used to play soccer (or American fútbol). "Huh? Two on one? Such big men, aren't yah?" He sneered again, spitting blood to the side.

"Leave it," Steven halted Jake when he charged again, "they're both pretty fucked."

"Well, that dumbass should learn a lesson 'bout interfering!"

"Law's learned - he has, bro, and if he wants, he can learn again," Steven spat on Lawrence's form, Jake doing the same to you - both eventually stalking away like bored toddlers walking away from broken toys.

Slowly, Lawrence grunted as he pulled himself up to sit against the side of the house. "Fuck's sake," he whispered, wiping his eyes and wincing when he felt the sore skin - trailing a finger up, wincing again when he discovered split skin above his eyebrow. "Ohhhh, fuuuuck," Law drawled when you slowly peaked up from your fetal position on the ground. "Hey, hey, you all right? Stupid question," he hissed in pain when he moved to try and assist you.

You cried out when his grip laid on you, but powered through to let him help you sit against the house, too. "Holy shit," you whispered, blood dribbling from your mouth; teeth feeling loose, a headache already assaulting you, and cuts stinging in the bitter night.

"I'm so sorry."

"N-No, you - it would've been so much worse if you hadn't..." You trailed off, sniffling, "You didn't have t'jump in, you got hurt 'cause of me."

"You got hurt 'cause of Billy," Lawrence frowned.

"Huh?"

"That's why they're so pissed off," Lawrence explained, spitting more blood to the side; his jeans stained with mud, blood, and grass. "Billy got their asses few weeks ago, they're still pissed... I heard them," he deflected smoothly, "talkin' about teaching Billy a lesson through you. Didn't feel right, but I should've stopped them so much sooner. I-I'm sorry I didn't do more, Y/N."

"You did more than anyone else," you whimpered, drawing your knees into your chest to lock your arms around them. "I don't even know them, they go to our school?"

"We're all in AP History with Snyder."

You paused to nod absently, not even bothering to try and recall any interactions you might've had with Steven and Jake. Instead, you eyed your savior, mumbling, "You're Lawrence, right?"

"Yeah," he breathed.

"Your sister's... Cara? Sarah? No, no," you paused to think, his frown deepening as you seemed so nice and authentic. "Your sister's name is Natalie, right?"

"Yeah," he half-smiled. "You know her?"

"She's a sweetheart, has those cute glasses? Yeah, I like her; she just joined cheer, right?"

"Yeah, that's her."

You eyed him for a moment, ignoring the blood dripping off you both from the beat down; then whispered with a sniffle, "Is that why you helped? 'Cause your sister's on the cheer squad, too?"

"No," he replied instantly, sounding quiet (like you), "I'd like to believe if I saw something I know is wrong... I'd be the type of person to step in, try to stop it."

"You did tonight."

"I should've done more a lot sooner."

"You could've been really hurt, Law."

"Like you?"

"I'm just - look, two guys? Beatin' on me? Yeah," you scoffed, wiping blood from your split lip, "like I ever stood a chance. But you didn't have t'do all that, they wanted Billy, found me instead. You could've walked away, but instead, you jumped in, and you could've been really hurt. That wouldn't help anyone."

"I'm still sorry..."

You sniffled, but before you could respond, you heard footsteps thundering over the lawn; a voice shouting your name in frantic, panicked little outbursts. Looking up, you caught sight of a black leather jacket and unruly blonde curls, frowning deeper. "Oh, fuck," you whispered, withdrawing into yourself, "oh, no, no, not now. Not now, Goddamnit. Think I can make a run for it to the street before he sees me?" You asked Law quietly, nearly hissing your whisper.

"Ain't that Billy?" Law asked, finger pointed.

"He can't see me," you rushed in a panic, eyes wide and tears welling. "Lawrence, he can't!"

"Why?"

"He'll go on a fucking rampage, Lawrence! Ever heard going postal? Yeah, Bee gives that shit new meaning."

"They'd deserve whatever Billy wants t'do," Law frowned, tensing up when Billy had turned, caught sight of you two, and made an angry beeline for you in the grass. "U-Uh, Billy's approaching," he warned you as your boyfriend arrived, trying to pull back to give privacy, but wincing in pain that made him stop.

"The fuck is going - ? Oh, my fuckin' God," Billy trailed off, then whispered when he saw you huddled on the ground; your dress in tatters. Your head was bowed, knees drawn in, refusing to meet his eyes; making your leather-clad boyfriend lower himself to a knee. "Baby? Hey, look at me, sweet girl, lemme see... C'mon, baby, please, look at me."

You only sniffled.

"It was Jake and Steven," Lawrence told Billy, trying to find his feet; falling over and just giving up.

"Hell happened to you, man?"

Lawrence frowned, looking nervous, but your voice answered, "He saved me, Bee. Jumped in, took some of the beating."

Billy looked between you and Lawrence, but focused on you - seeing the injuries to your face and chest in full light. "Oh, my God," he breathed, looking you over in shock. Those pink, pillowy lips you adored licking and sucking on were parted in shock.

You half-smiled, "Think you pissed a few of the wrong guys off."

"Jesus Christ, sweet girl. What happened? Tell me, please, before I start making assumptions," he demanded, reaching for your cheek - making you recoil hard enough that your head banged on the house supporting your exhausted body. "Hey, hey," he whispered, looking physically wounded by your action, "'s just me, baby, it's just me, it's Bee, I'm not gonna hurt you. C'mon, sweetheart, lemme help you."

You sniffled, letting him reach for you again and caress your cheek so he could direct your head left and right; giving him a full view of your injuries that continued to weep. He stiffened as he took note of a new cut or bruise upon every new sweep of his eyes, his anger skyrocketing with every passing moment.

"It hurts," you whimpered. "Apparently, you beat the shit outta those guys weeks ago - guess they were waiting for an opening to strike back."

"You don't deserve this," he growled angrily. "Fuck - look at you! Goddamnit, I'm so sorry, princess, this is my fault. All my fucking fault, shit," he hissed, looking close to tears, "I put you here, I'm so sorry, baby."

"Got Lawrence his ass beat, too," you pouted.

"Sorry about this, man," Billy instantly offered the other boy, who was practically slumped over in the grass. He still managed to give a thumbs up. "But, uh, thank you for stepping in. You know, not a whole lotta people would."

"Nah, it was the right thing to do," Law frowned, waving him off.

"You said Jake and Steven did this?"

"Mhm," Law nodded. "Jake Chastain and Steven Barton."

"Yeah, I know 'em," Billy shook his head, "and I'll fuckin' kill 'em - "

"Can we get cleaned up first? Before we go murdering high school jocks?" You pouted in pain.

"Hey, man. You got a friend here or something? Someone to help us?" Billy asked Lawrence, still caressing your face with his thumb sweeping the apple of your cheek.

"My sister's 'round, yeah..."

"Want me to grab her?" Billy offered awkwardly.

"I'd actually appreciate it," Law whispered. "Gotta get home, yeah?"

"Yeah, man. Stay here, I'll grab her," Billy agreed. "What's her name?"

"Natalie, she's a cheerleader. Um... Y-You dated her beginning of the year?"

"I remember," he sighed, standing to his feet. He told you earnestly, almost sweetly, "I'll be fast."

But the thing is, you knew Billy all too well by now. "Wait, no," you gasped, trying to stand, "Bee, don't!" It was too late, he was already gone by the time you and Lawrence stumbled out from hiding; just in time to watch Billy point Natalie towards where you and her brother were. Then, he turned and surged up to an unsuspecting Jake and Steven; launching an all-out brawl against the two.

Neither of them stood a chance when Billy was THIS angry. Nobody did. In fact, if Jason, Tommy H., and two other guys hadn't pulled him back, surely, there'd be a lot more than a couple of broken bones. However, when Billy told the other basketball players in a spit-flying rage that these two cowards had attacked his girlfriend (a few turning back to get a look at you), it launched a new, mutual anger. Chrissy and a few other cheerleaders wanted to step in when the "fight" (more like attack) started again, but when they saw you, Lawrence, and Natalie, nobody said a single word. Nobody interfered. Nobody interrupted, and luckily, nobody else joined in...

Before Jake and Steven could lose their lives or sustain serious injury that would result in any arrests, Billy was pulled back by Lawrence - of all people. "Hey, hey," the beaten boy barked, "hey, man, chill - chill! These guys deserve it, yeah, I fucking know, but look, hey!" He grabbed Billy's shoulders to prevent him from turning back for the fray. "Hey! Your girl needs you, man. She needs you more than these bozos. C'mon, you can't go to jail over this shit, right? Right? How mad you gonna be if you get bagged 'cause of these jackasses?"

This seemed to force Billy back to reality and out of his homicidal rage. A few dudes who played football stepped in to hoist the unconscious jocks over their shoulders just to leave them on the curb a couple houses down the street.

Billy raced back to you.

Chrissy and Natalie were helping wipe blood from your skin and hair; clothes damaged, ripped, stained, beyond repair, and another cheerleader was holding a bag of frozen peas to your head as you leaned on her stomach. He slid his jacket from his shoulders, easing you off the girl's belly to leave it around your trembling form and then taking the girl's spot, supporting your body as you were tended to.

Eventually, Chrissy sighed, "I think that's the best we're gonna get you, honey. You want us to come over in the mornings? Help you get dressed and do your make-up?"

"No offense, but I don't think that's necessary... It's not like what happened is a secret," Natalie whispered, looking you over.

"Make-up might irritate the injuries," the other girl offered softly. "But it might cover some of those bruises, I just would avoid the cuts."

"I'm okay, girls, but thank you," you assured softly. "Bee's here t'help."

"Yeah, taking you straight to the hospital," he decided stiffly from behind you.

"What?"

"Think I'm not gonna get you checked out after this? Two men attacked you, I gotta make sure ain't shit's seriously wrong, baby. Don't fight me on this, please."

Billy's mind was warped with memories of sitting in ER's and other clinics with his mother nursing a broken wrist or damaged eye socket. His father's anger had always been a temperamental switch, something Billy felt he always had to outdo. Being in the hospital with you felt too similar, another bolt of rage zinging through his blood; hating the idea that you were the victim, and like his mother, he wasn't able to protect you.

Unlike his mother, this situation was directly his fault. He didn't even remember why he beat the shit outta Steven and Jake all those weeks ago, but whatever the reason, it cost him now. Cost you both.

The party continued inside the house, but Billy walked around the side yard, down to the front, then towards the street full of parked cars with you secure in his arms. After getting you settled safely in the passenger seat of his Camaro, Billy rightened and shut the door; seeing Lawrence and Natalie approaching their own car, the bag of peas now held to his jaw and cheek.

His sister was under his arm, helping him hobble. Billy gulped, realizing Lawrence was beat to hell, too, and if he hadn't jumped in, Lord only knew what state you'd be in now. When the two men caught one another's eye, Billy offered a nod of respect and thanks; the other lad returning it as if to say he was welcome. Billy raced for the driver's door, sliding in, and without turning any music on, drove off towards the hospital.

You were grumpy to be there, but one look at you had the medical staff moving at a quickened pace to help you; offering speedy aid. You were cleaned and cared for; questions regarding the level of assault making you nervous, but you answered honestly that two classmates had jumped you at a party. This meant the police were called; tears in your eyes and down your cheeks when you had to tell Chief Hopper (a close family friend) exactly what happened.

Billy provided their assailant’s full names and promised they wouldn't be in the best shape when (slash if) the two were found.

After hearing your story and writing the names down from Billy, Hopper sighed in empathy, "Kid... Don't admit t'anything."

"I'm not, I'm just making a casual note," Billy countered. "You know, people don't take too kindly to people hittin' a woman. Less so when she's drunk, alone, and they fuckin' stomp on her - "

"All right," Hopper tried to halt his built up anger. "Let's just take a breath here - "

"Uh, Chief?" His deputy interrupted. "Them boys? Uh, a... Jake Chastain and Steven Barton? They were just wheeled in from an ambulance."

"Interesting," Hopper noted, sparing Billy a small look. "From where?"

"A neighbor called them in, said there's a party few houses from her on Hawthorne."

Jim Hopper sighed and turned to you and Billy with his hands on his hips. His face was passively angry. "Sound familiar?" He asked, tongue sweeping over his teeth.

"Yes," you answered for you both, "that's where it happened, Chief."

His eyes softened when he looked back at you. "All right," he nodded, looking to his partner. "Go stand by their room, keep an eye - I'll be there in a second, but the victims made a positive ID. Doc's will treat 'em and we'll book 'em." When left alone, Hopper took a suspicious look around the hospital floor before sliding the curtains shut around your bed; moving to your other side, removing his hat, and kneeling. "Listen, kid," he whispered, taking your hand softly, "I got a daughter at home, too, and if anyone - and I mean, anyone - laid a hand on her the way you were tonight, I'd burn this town to the fucking ground."

Billy snorted in amusement, "Know the feeling."

Hopper nodded, "So believe me when I say, I need to know, off the record, what really happened tonight. Your father will need to know that I am doing everything to help - but I need to know the truth."

"I don't know what to tell you, Hopper," you frowned, matching his quiet tone, "I've told you what I know. I was a few drinks in, stepped outside t'smoke, and that's when they grabbed me, took me t'the side yard, and started wailing on me. I dropped, they kept goin', that's when this other boy stepped in. He got beat up pretty good, too, but he helped get them away. Billy showed up, we came here - "

"I hit them," Billy interrupted, making you squeak lightly. Hopper just laid his other hand over yours so he cocooned it; glancing around the under skirts of the curtains to make sure you remained alone.

Then he asked, "When?"

"After I made sure Y/N was okay," Billy explained, petting a hand over the back of your head; never looking away from Hopper. "I found her friend's sister, made sure someone knew where they were, and then I hit them... And I didn't stop hitting them."

"Kid - "

"Some teammates pulled me off, don't worry - it could've been so much worse. But when the others found out what they did to my girl?" He hissed quietly, "They took matters into their own hands by themselves, sir. My girl was attacked, I couldn't let that just slide, Chief, I hope you understand."

Hopper sighed, "Well, I can't condone the violence, but since it was a group effort, be a helluva lot more paperwork bringing you in versus those two who started it."

Billy nodded absently, your free hand laying over Hopper's to stack. "Did you call my dad?" You asked nervously.

"Not yet," he frowned. "I gotta check on the suspects, but I can after."

"Could you not? For me, please?" You sniffled. "He'll just worry and would get all pissy 'cause his trip has to be cut - "

"He's not home?" Hopper asked in earnest confusion with knitted brows.

Your head shook, "Chicago for the week."

"He left eight days ago," Billy snipped.

"Bee," you reprimanded sharply.

"Hey," Hopper squeezed your hand, "it's okay, you're over 18, I don't have to call him. But El and I are gonna drop by later with dinners and to check on you, her little friend, too, probably. You know, the, uh... The little red head?"

"Max?" You asked.

"Yeah, her. Nice girl."

"She's Billy's step-sister," you snickered, wincing when your broken ribs protested.

"You should rest," Hopper bid, "and thank you for being honest," he stood to his feet while nodding at Billy. "Tell you what, I won't report you starting the fight - technically... It'll be reported as a randomized group effort after they were caught assaulting Y/N."

Billy nodded, too shocked for words as Hopper patted your hand, placed his hat on, and exited the little curtained room. "Wow," your boyfriend breathed. "Since when are you friends with the Chief of Police?"

"He and my dad go way back," you eased.

"All cops like him?"

"Fuck no, you know that." After a beat, you reached for his hand to lace your fingers with him, "Hey," you bid, "I-I'm really sorry."

"Baby, just - don't even start - "

"No, for earlier, for our fight," you interrupted, "and for feeling petty enough to go to the party alone when I know you don't like that... For drinking, not being more aware like you taught me. I didn't use the buddy-system when I went t'smoke, it was a major fuck-up, I know, but I'm just sorry. I feel like I've disappointed you or something - "

"No, hey, sweet girl," he rushed, sitting on the edge of the gurney to stare at you directly, "don't you ever feel that way - you didn't do nothing wrong. Hear me? You didn't put yourself in this position, you didn't deserve what happened, you didn't - no, just," he sighed deeply, "you didn't do any of this, sweetheart. Okay? If anything... If anything, this is my fucking fault and I'm the one who is so sorry."

Your head shook, but Billy continued,

"They did this to you because of me." Tears filled those sweet baby blues. "Because I don't have a hold of my temper - I fucked them up, so, they fucked you up. This is my fault, I'm so sorry. But look, hey, I'll fix this, okay? I swear to God - I'm gonna fix this."

"The cops got 'em, we don't have t'do anything else," you mumbled. "You don't have to do anything else, Billy."

"Maybe not, but I can't let this go - look at you," a single tear dripped. "Fucking look at you, my sweet girl. In the fucking hospital 'cause of me - I can't - this ain't right. I gotta make it right."

You couldn't answer because a technician was arriving to take you for a CT, MRI, and X-Ray - all of those scans that would tell them what was going on internally. Hopper was seen outside the two boy's rooms - Billy following your bed closely as you where wheeled away. Every scan or test he could remain close for, he was; stepping back when needed, but being sucked right back to your side when able.

By the end of the night, you were released into Billy's care because all patients with head injuries had to have some kind of chaperone, and a few floors up, Steven and Jake were being handcuffed to their hospital beds by Hopper.

"Real lucky I wasn't there when you hit her," Jim Hopper seethed quietly, tightening the cuff on Jake to an uncomfortable grip. "Your parents would need money for your funerals - not bail," he offered one single more glare before leaving the next shift of deputies on duty. He sped all the way home and held Eleven in a suffocating hug.

Turns out, you sustained decent injuries from that night.

A (cleanly) broken ankle. Six different broken ribs. Split lip that required two stitches. Stitched earlobes from where piercings were ripped out. Severely bruised collarbones, bordering on broken. One blackened eye. Along with other generic bruises and cuts, more seemingly discovered as the days drug by slowly.

Billy was ready to mow down anyone in his way at any point, but his only ability to get through the school day was that he saw you everyday afterward. He dropped whatever sport and / or club that held his interest, collecting coursework you missed, then driving Max and "Jane" Hopper to your place. He would've lashed out if this was any other situation, but because you asked him to behave and bring you the materials you needed, he did. He played nice.

The two assailants, Steven and Jake, had been arrested by Jim Hopper. They apparently had a rough ride to the station, but that wasn't here or there. What they did to you was far worse that nobody batted a single lash when the two were brought in the station for booking, looking freshly beat up and bloodied. A judge also rejected their bail.

Billy brought you whatever work you missed during your recovery at home, most teachers shocked to see him so diligent in showing up and making the collections. He didn't understand whatever the teachers told him about the work, but you did - and it was fascinating to him, watching you work or study. He usually sat by your window to smoke, but on the occasion, you asked for a toke and wouldn't care about where the smoke blew. So, as weeks passed, he stopped specifically going over to your window; just leaving it open for ventilation so he could remain at your side.

Anything you needed, he got. He did. He gave you. Guilt was one helluva motivator and Billy was chalked-full; so, he did the only thing he knew he could, being acts of service.

You were laid up, it made sense. He could bring you into the shower, get naked himself and help you bathe. He could carry you downstairs, cook for you, help out around the house by keeping it clean because he knew it stressed you out. He would collect the mail, water plants, do dishes, just turned into a househusband that made your stomach and cheeks feel all warm and fuzzy. Never did you think Billy had the ability to be domestic, but here he was, in your great-grandmother's kitchen, wearing a stained apron while trying to bake cookies while you worked on a physics project.

"Hey, Bee?"

"What's wrong?" He asked instantly, setting the hot tray to the stove.

"No, hey, calm down," you smiled with a small laugh. "I was just wondering... You know, like... What's gotten into you?"

"Huh?"

"You know what I mean," you huffed, setting your pencil down. "You literally haven't let me out of your sight except when you're at school."

He shrugged, "You need help."

"You don't ask if I do."

"I don't need to ask when I can just see it."

"Billy."

He sighed and begrudgingly scraped cookies off the hot tray to rest on the cooling sheets. "Your dad asked me to stay close," he offered.

"Bullshit."

"No, really," Billy insisted. "He's in and out with work, so, he asked me to stick around, just in case."

"Okay, fine, but it's more than that. Billy, tell me the truth, baby, please. It's not a bad thing, I'm just curious what's really going on."

"I'm just... I'm just nervous, you know?"

Your head cocked, "Why's that?"

"Look what happened to you," he chuckled ruefully. "All fucked up, can't even go t'school until your ribs are healed - all 'cause of me. 'Cause I fucked up and went too far - "

"William," you snapped, making his wide, shocked eyes meet yours. "I'm not gonna listen to this anymore. Okay? I know you're sorry, you tell me everyday, andI know you're feeling guilty, but this isn't your fault, you're not the one who put hands on me - "

You flinched when he lobbed the cookie tray into the sink, causing a ruckus, his voice yelling over the noise, "FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"

"William!"

"I'm trying to protect you!" He yelled, tears swelling when he whipped around to face you. "I-I don't know what else to do! Look, okay, say what you fucking want, but the truth is, those two assholes came at you 'cause of me. Okay? 'Cause I had to be myself and beat the shit outta them 3 months ago, they never forgave - they didn't forget. I put you in this situation, that now? Now, yeah!" He laughed without humor. "Yeah! I'm fucking nervous leaving you alone! Fuck knows what could happen to you, and who's to say there aren't more people out there just waiting for this kinda opportunity! Baby!" He rushed for you at the kitchen table, your mouth sewn shut in shock as he found his knees in front of you and took both your hands in his. "Baby, listen to me. You're the only thing - no, I'm serious!" He insisted when you looked ready to protest this sentiment you've heard before. "You're the only thing I fucking care about, that I want to protect, and they all know it - I don't exactly hide it. I love you so fucking much, they'd do this again - they'd fucking hurt you to get to me and that idea just..." He sighed, looking lost.

You pulled a hand free to instantly caress his cheek, turning his attention upward until his eyes met yours. "Billy," you whispered, "baby, nobody's after us. This was just a freak accident, this was a fluke, okay? You're worried anyone else is gonna come at me, at us, but I know nobody else is that fucking stupid. They wouldn't test you, and Jake and Steven took advantage of an already bad situation. Okay? We had a fight - which was pretty public. So, people knew we were at odds, and when I showed up at that party alone, started drinking, it was their perfect opportunity to strike."

"You can't say that, we don't know if anyone else is gonna test us," he sniffled. "I've made a lot of mistakes... Pissed a lot of people off. One of them might've grown a pair."

"Okay," you relented, "then I guess we're gonna have to stick together, you know... So you can keep me safe, right?"

He chuckled dryly, "I'm trying, princess."

"Well, we can work out a better way - one that doesn't run you into the fucking ground, Billy, Jesus," you searched his face. "Are you sleeping? At all?"

"'Course I am - "

"Don't lie to me."

He sighed, deflating a little, "I sleep... Only when I stay here."

"Billy, you stay only a couple nights a week when Daddy's home."

"I know."

"So, you basically only sleep when Daddy's out of town and you stay here?" You squeaked, watching him nod; pouting and feeling your own guilt brew. "Baby... Look, can we just agree that this isn't either of our faults? Right? Yeah? If I'm not allowed to think this was my fault, you aren't either."

"I was the one they wanted t'hurt," he shook his head. "They did this 'cause of me, sweetheart, how can you be so - so - fuck! So fucking understanding a-and forgiving?"

"Because I love you," you answered like it was common knowledge, even giving a small giggle.

"That doesn't... But that doesn't even - "

"What? Mean anything? Bee, it means everything," you smiled at him. "I love you, so, when you make mistakes, I forgive you - even though there's nothing you've done. I mean," you winced slightly, "sure, maybe we could reduce the kids you bully or beat up, you know, limit the enemies we might make. And this is something that can be redeemed, can't it?"

He stared at you from the floor, slowly deflating, "Can it? I've fucked up so much, doll, I don't think I deserve whatever forgiveness you wanna give me."

"You can't keep beating yourself up," you snipped. "Hey? Hear me? Look, it happened - it fucking sucked, but it happened and it's fucking over. We both need one another to help move on, okay? So, I need you back, Bee, I need my man back because we need to get through this together. You don't get to sulk in your guilt, I don't get to stew in my regret, we need to help each other out of this."

Billy sniffled, "How? How do we move on when you've still got stitches in your lip?"

"They'll dissolve in a few days," you shrugged meekly. "We move on together, okay? Maybe you pick up basketball again, try to distract yourself. Billy, we need some normalcy again, right? You know?"

"Doll, being away from you makes me feel like my lungs are gonna pop," he shook his head. "I'm afraid something might happen if I'm not there, it's fucking scary after finding you in your own blood."

"Then I'll be at every practice," you eased. "You can drive me to and from school, then you know where I am - you'll know I'm safe."

Billy stared at you a moment, fully dropping to the floor as his energy finally drained. He ran a hand through his hair, rustling the curls, admitting in a soft voice, "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to not feel so guilty, how to move forward."

"There's no playbook," you agreed. "Guess it means we gotta figure it out ourselves, but again, we do it together. C'mere," you sighed, lowering yourself to the floor with your booted ankle held out.

"No, don't - "

"Fuck off, I'm not totally unable to do shit," you grunted, adjusting yourself and reaching for him. "Come here, please, I wanna hold you! Been cuddling me this whole time, lemme be the big spoon, please."

"Just told me to fuck off, sweetheart, kinda sending some mixed signals, aren't'cha?" He chuckled, turning so his back was to your chest; leaning so you supported him in his slump. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he muttered, holding the arm around his collarbones. "I really - if I knew this was gonna happen, I'd never of fought them."

"I know, and I forgive you," you whispered in his ear. "But we can't keep doing this back and forth, okay? I forgive you, Billy, no more apologies."

He sighed, "Yeah... All right..."

"Steven and Jake are arrested, we won't have t'see them again. Hopper will make sure of that," you smirked against the shell of his ear. "And the doctors said I should be good to return to school next week, but I'm out of cheer and everything."

He groaned, "Just something else I've fucked up for you."

"Oh, please, I love the time off," you teased. "Gives me all the time I need to watch my man on the court, huh?" He half-chuckled at your words. "You know I'm ahead in all my classes now, too? Teaching myself at home is far superior than the teacher's bitching at us for eight hours."

"You're gonna love college, baby," he chuckled, the two of you lulling into a comfortable silence. You held him tightly, nuzzled into his neck; both sitting in your emotions, trying to navigate a way out.

"We good?" You whispered.

"We're good," Billy agreed, just as soft. "No more apologies... Try to have less guilt. But you're gonna let me stay close, right?"

"I want you clinging to me so hard, I can't fucking breathe," you smirked. "And if Daddy really asked you to stick around, then you're welcome to stay here longer, even if he's here... Where I can have you close to me," you whispered, licking the skin under his ear. He stiffened.

"No - you better not," he squirmed when you licked again, adding a little teeth in a scrape.

"Billy," you pouted. "It's been weeks!"

"You're still hurt," he argued, turning on the floor to look at you. "I'm not gonna be responsible for breaking another of your ribs 'cause we were horny."

"I'm doing so much better, though!"

"Tell you what," he smirked. "Next business trip of your dad's, I'll fuck you all weekend - wherever you want, however you want."

"He has one in two weeks."

"Mhm, and you have a check up before he leaves."

You eyed him for a moment, "When did you become responsible?"

"I've always been."

"No, this is new. You're remembering dates and my doctor appointments and my dad's work schedule."

"Maybe I just like taking care of you," he whispered against your lips with a growing smirk. After pecking you lips, he quipped, "So, shut up and let me."

"Yes, sir."

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

[hellsburners]

you got me

summary: marc finds you wearing his shirt and a pair of short shorts pairing: marc spector x male reader word count: 1.5k warnings: 18+ warning, kinky marc, bottom!reader, marc hates short shorts (secretly loves it) a/n: thanks to this lovely prompt (also i might make one for jake and steven too if i have the time)

masterlist | more moon knight

Marc came home to a quiet apartment. It was clean, as always, with all of Steven’s books arranged on the desk and Jake’s favorite clothes ironed on the clothes rack. He couldn’t help but smile, dating you was probably the best thing that could happen to them. 

“Baby?” he called. “You home?” 

“Yeah, I’m here!” you said, carrying folded clothes to Marc’s closet. He took off his coat, dropping it on the couch. “Are you hungry?”

“No, I’m fine,” he stretched his back muscles and cracked his neck, the fatigue weighing in. “Just need a drink that’s all.”

You came out of his room, wearing his shirt and shorts too short. Marc’s thick eyebrows furrowed as you walked to the kitchen trying to get a wine glass for him. 

You felt a finger on the back of your thigh, running up your skin till it reached the hem of your shorts. “Where’d you get this?” he whispered. 

You grab the glass from the cabinet, leaving it on the counter. Marc’s eyes follow your movement, his hands snaking around your waist. “Get what?”

“These shorts,” he said, palming your ass through the cloth. “They’re a little—provocative?” 

“It was very hot today,” you said. “And I cleaned the whole flat!” 

“And you’re wearing my shirt,” Marc whispered, smelling himself on you. He pressed a kiss on your nape, sniffing on the base of your neck, his arms toying with the barrier between your skin and the shorts. 

“Go sit on the couch I’ll bring the wine,” you smirked. 

Marc sat on the couch, manspreading while holding the empty wine glass. He bit his lips, the sight was downright obscene. As you reached for the wine on the top shelf, your shirt would lift to the point that he could see the garter of your underwear. Marc’s cock turned in his seat.

“Come sit on my lap,” he said, pulling you to his lap before you poured the wine. You cheered before taking a sip, the bitter liquid burning your throat. 

Marc’s hands snaked all over your smooth legs, he lifted your leg from your ankles to place kisses all over your legs. You squirmed under his embrace, burying your face on his neck. 

“Marc—” you whimpered. He made you straddle him, his ass practically slapping your ass. 

“I’m gonna fucking rip these shorts off you,” he said, kissing you in the process. He held your chin, his other hand going under your shorts. “Your legs are so pretty—and that fucking ass,” slapping your ass again making you shudder. 

“I didn’t know it would have this much of an effect on you,” you wail, “I could’ve worn something shorter.”

“Try me.”

“I’m pretty sure Steven liked it when I wore these shorts.”

“Oh he liked it very much,” he said, his hands reaching under your shirt finding your nipples, he toys with them, eliciting a whimper under your breath. 

You grind on his lap trying to give his growing erection some friction, a groan leaves his lips. Your hands rest on his chest, using it to stabilize your body as your hips roll on his cock. 

Marc bites his lip almost drawing blood trying to stifle his moans. He grips on the hem of your shorts pulling them down to nearly expose your ass as he leaves hickeys all over your neck. 

“I’m gonna rip this off you,” he declares. 

“Marc—”

You unbuttoned his trousers, palming his dick through his boxers. His hands linger on your neck, running through your hair as you release his cock from its confines. 

It was already leaking with precum, you use the wetness as lube for your hand, stroking his thick shaft. Marc takes his jacket off, his body already warming up, sweat dripping on his forehead. 

“Can I ride it?” you pout.

“No, baby,” he said. “You’re bending over for me tonight. Go to the bed, on your hands and knees.”

“Oh.”

“And keep your clothes on.”

You did what you were told, waiting in the room staring at the stark wall waiting for him. You hear the door creak he is silent, but you hear his belt jingle as he walks. You feel the warmth of his hand on your back, pressing it down so your ass was pointing towards him, your shirt pooling on your shoulders leaving your back bare. 

His fingers reach under the hem of your waist, simultaneously pulling with so much force tearing the thin cloth and splitting it into two pieces—the fabric rips like the sound of thunder behind you. Marc does the same to your underwear. 

“Marc!”

“Now that it’s out of the way,” he said. “I’m gonna play with this all night,” massaging your ass before he dives right in, licking and sucking on your hole drawing whimpers from your mouth. 

He spits on your hole, using his fingers to enter it. He curls his fingers to play with your prostate, the sheer amount of pleasure made your legs wobbly. He takes a moment to nibble on the fatty mound on your rear, leaving hickeys as his fingers continue to play with your hole. His other hand finds your erection, stroking it.

You continue to writhe and whimper under him, your mouth dripping with saliva, your eyes rolling back into your skull, pure ecstasy enveloping your being. Your hands grip tightly on the sheets, leaving dents on your palms. Marc smacks your ass from the continued assault. 

You could hear Marc stroke his cock, the wet sounds were so lewd it led to your cock ache even more. You wanted him to use you, to draw out all the moans, to punish you for offending him. 

“You’re so hot baby,” Marc uttered. “Need this every day.”

“Please—I need you already.”

“Need me, how?”

“Inside me—please.”

That does it for Marc. He teases your hole with the tip of his cock, tracing it around with its wetness. He presses in, the tight muscle enveloping it. Your back aches but he persists, pressing deeper until it’s fully sheathed inside you.

The two of you let out guttural moans, tears welling under your eyes. Marc bends down to grab onto your hair, pulling at his hips to push in. There was a rough side to him that you know, but maybe it was the shorts or the fatigue, but tonight he was rougher, his grip on you tighter. 

“So fuckin’ tight—”

He thrusts, over and over. The sound of skin slapping and your cries are the only things your neighbors would hear. His hand pushed you down the bed, his other hand at your side for support. 

You stroke your cock, practically leaking onto the sheets. Marc whispers sweet nothings to your ear, and a drop of the wetness on his lips drips down your ear. He nibbles your ear, your hands still gripping onto the sheets. 

He flips you around so that you’re facing him, placing your legs on his shoulders. He thrusts back again into you, the base of his cock hitting your ass on each stroke of his hips. The veins on his hand bulge as they sit tightly on your wrists, pinning them above your head. 

Precum leaks from your tip, pooling on your abdomen. Marc takes some with his index finger, scraping it up from your belly button to your chest, and brings it to your lips. You lick your essence from his fingers, the salty bitterness on your tongue. He bends down to share your wetness with a kiss. 

“It tastes good, yeah?” 

You nod, your eyes scrunched up from all the stimulation. You could feel your core tighten, the heat pouring through your veins. Marc leaves light kisses all over your skin down to your collarbone. All you wanted to do was take him in your embrace.

You pull him in, your nails digging into his skin leaving red marks down his back. His dark curls tickle your face, his head buried in the corner of your neck. He ruts into you faster, harder, more forcefully. You let out cries that break through the hot atmosphere. 

“Babe—I’m close,” you whine. 

“I know baby, I know,” he coos, caressing your cheeks. “You gotta be patient though, –need you to wait for me.”

“I’ll try—” the tears blurring your vision. The pleasure coming from Marc’s cock was intoxicating, the heat of our muscle combined with his thrusts almost drove him to the edge, teetering for release. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight you’re gonna make me cum so hard.”

“Can you cum inside me?” you begged. You held his face in your palms, relishing his beauty as he fucked you. His long lashes and his thick brows scrunched all over. It was adorable. 

“If you want me to,” he groans. “Anything for you.”

Marc moved his hips with such grace and power it was finally the time for release. He kissed your lips, moaning from the moment the two of you reached your climax. Marc, thrusting erratically, as you stroke your erection one last time. Your wetness shoots all over your torsos, his cum filling inside you leaving a warmth fullness. 

He pulls back from this kiss, staring down at you with dark eyes. He pushes your hair back, caressing your cheek with his thumb. Your breaths heave trying to catch some air. 

“My pretty boy,” he lets out. “Wear those shorts again and I’m fucking your brains out.”

interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

[belovedspector]

Leap Year

Pairing: Jake Lockley x gn!reader (mentions of Steven Grant x gn!reader and Marc Spector x gn!reader)

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: Jake has never celebrated his birthday. He didn’t even have a birthday, until you urged him to pick a date. Of course, he picks the most chaotic date possible.

Content: Fluff, one use of a pet name (honey)

A/N: I was thinking about the fact that it’s a leap year, and this idea sort of just came to me. I don’t have much else to say about it. Enjoy! :)

Masterlist

“When’s your birthday?” you ask out of the blue one day over dinner.

Jake pauses, forkful of pasta halfway to his mouth. Carefully, he places the fork back on his plate and says, “Don’t have one.”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

Jake shrugs. “I know Marc’s is March ninth. I didn’t exactly check the calendar on the day I first showed up.”

“What about Steven?” Your food is now totally forgotten.

“Same as me, I guess,” Jake says. He looks into the reflection of his glass, likely listening to one of his alters.

You sit there for a few moments, deep in thought. Finally, you look up at Jake. “Well, then you’ll have to pick one.”

“What?”

“You and Steven should pick your own birthdays.”

Oh, boy. Jake knows that look in your eyes, knows from the way they’re sparkling that there’s no way you’re letting this go.

“Look, I dunno—” he tries.

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” you encourage him.

Jake knows there’s no getting out of this. “Fine,” he relents, pretending to be more annoyed than he actually is. Really, he thinks your enthusiasm is adorable, and he’d do just about anything to make you happy.

You cheer. “Great! Do you want me to help you pick a date? I should have some astrology books around here somewhere—”

“Astrology?” Jake scoffs. “I don’t need astrology. I already know what date I want.”

“Oh? Which one?” You lean forward in anticipation.

“February twenty-ninth.” Jake sits back in his chair and crosses his arms, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“February twenty-ninth?” you repeat. “Why?”

Jake shrugs. “Why not?”

“I don’t know, I—” You sigh. “I guess there’s nothing wrong with that. I’ll put it in my calendar,” you say with a smile. “Now, we just need to find a birthday for Steven.”

“He’s already blabbing on about it.” He rolls his eyes fondly. “I think he’ll take you up on the astrology book offer.”

“Perfect!” you say. He can see the moment you get that faraway look in your eye, no doubt already analyzing which sign would match Steven best.

Seasons change, time marches on, and Jake completely forgets about the birthday conversation. Sure, Steven had made a big fuss over choosing his own date for a while, but, once that was settled, there was no need to think about the matter anymore.

So, it comes as a shock when, on a random winter day, Steven has called out of work and insisted that Jake take the body. Jake tries to argue, to get Marc on his side, but it’s no use. His alters slip deeper into the headspace, leaving Jake alone for the time being.

He notices you’re already out of bed, and it’s at that moment he hears movement coming from the kitchen. He throws on a t-shirt and sweatpants and gets up to investigate. Sure enough, there you are, singing to yourself as you stand at the stove.

Jake has spent a lifetime creeping in the shadows, so he’s gotten very good at sneaking up on people. Silently, he moves across the kitchen and wraps his arms around you from behind. You startle before laughing and leaning into the touch.

“Good morning, Jake,” you say brightly.

“Morning, honey,” he mumbles, burying his face in your neck. “What’re you doing?”

“Making pancakes.”

Jake perks up at that. “What’s the occasion?”

You laugh. “Don’t you know what today is?”

Jake thinks about it. “March first?” he tries.

“It’s a leap year, silly,” you correct him, “so it’s February twenty-ninth. Happy birthday!”

Oh, right, that.

“You didn’t have to do anything special,” Jake protests.

“Are you kidding? This is the first-ever birthday you’re celebrating. We’ve gotta make it special.”

Jake feels something warm blooming in his chest, a feeling that is occurring more and more often when he spends time with you.

You plate the now-finished pancakes—banana, his favorite—and lead him over to the kitchen table, which has already been set. You dish out the pancakes and pour two glasses of juice before joining Jake at the table.

“Is this why Steven and Marc were being weird this morning?” Jake asks as he cuts into his pancakes.

You chew thoughtfully. “Probably. I swore them to secrecy.”

Jake grunts. “Really, you didn’t have to do all this.”

“Oh, Jake,” you say with a grin, “we’re just getting started.”

Jake hates drawing attention to himself. It’s the antithesis of his being; at least, it used to be, when he was still keeping himself hidden from his alters and working for Khonshu. Now, even though he can be more present, it still makes him uncomfortable to be in the spotlight. So, being the center of attention, the “birthday boy,”  isn’t really his style.

Of course, you know all this, and you plan the day around it. There will be no impromptu singing of “Happy Birthday” by waiters and random patrons in a restaurant—not on your watch. Instead, you spend a nice, quiet day together, walking around the city like a couple of tourists. It’s a mild day, not nearly as cold as it could be, so you even get to spend some time in the park, one of Jake’s favorite spots to relax.

It’s rare for Jake to get to spend a whole day with you like this. Sure, he and his alters have figured out a pretty fair schedule, but between work and life, it doesn’t always work out. Some days, he only catches glimpses of you in the morning, and come evening you’re so tired that he practically has to carry you to bed.

On the way back to your home, you make a quick stop at a little building with a pink awning. “Lily’s Bakery,” the sign reads in looping cursive. You pop in quickly and return moments later with a matching pink box.

“What’s that?” Jake asks.

“You’ll see,” you say with a glint in your eye.

After you’ve cooked and eaten Jake’s favorite dinner, you bring out the pink box again. You tell Jake to close his eyes, and, with a little eye roll, he complies. There’s some rustling, the sound of a box opening, and the click of a lighter before you say, “Okay, open!”

Jake uncovers his eyes, and he’s shocked by the gasp that leaves him. In front of him is a chocolate chip cookie cake that you’ve added candles to. Blue letters spell out, “Happy Birthday Jake,” and there’s even a little taxi cab drawn with frosting.

“I hope this is okay,” you say quickly. “I know you’re not the biggest fan of cake…”

“Are you kidding? This is perfect,” Jake assures you, blinking back the tears in his eyes.

When you sing “Happy Birthday” to him in the comfort of your home, Marc and Steven join in from the headspace.

“Okay, blow out the candles and make a wish!” you say.

Jake doesn’t need any wishes. He already has everything he could ever want right in front of him.

“What about next year?” Jake asks as the two of you lay in bed that night.

“What do you mean?” You roll onto your side to face him.

“My birthday next year. Do we skip it?’

“Of course not,” you say. “We’ll just celebrate the day before or after.”

Jake hums.

“Is that okay?” you ask.

If you had asked Jake that a year ago, the answer would have been a flat-out “no.” He hated drawing attention to himself, hated being fussed over. He felt like he didn’t deserve it.

What a difference a year makes, though. Instead, he smiles at you and says, “That sounds nice.”

“Happy birthday, Jake,” you whisper, leaning over to kiss him softly before returning your head to the pillow. “I love you.”

By the time he murmurs back, “I love you, too,” you’re already asleep.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to let me know what you think! Also, I have some ideas for follow-ups with Steven picking his birthday, plus celebrating Marc’s birthday, so let me know if that’s something you’d be interested in! :)

[gatorbites-imagines]

They need to make a second Moon Knight season. People also need to make more Moonboys x Male reader, not a lot for some reason. Here’s my pitch, Moonboys with a Summer like s/o. Like they are just like super hyper and cheerful but also really temperamental and kinda scary, lots of emotions at once type of person.

Please good Sir, I beg thee🙏🌆

Moonboys x Summerlike male reader

Headcanons

It’s been a while since I watched moon knight or written about the boys, and I feel like im forgetting what their personalities are like :/

Marc Spector

I’m not sure Marc knows how to deal with you in the beginning with you having so many strong emotions wrapped inside you at the same time. Its probably a bit intimidating for him, since he himself tries to stay coolheaded and focused on the mission.

After a while, Marc would get used too it though, and would come to enjoy it since its part of who you are. He does end up floundering sometimes when your emotions get a little too bright or loud all of a sudden, and he needs to figure out what caused it.

Knows some de-escalation exercises he’s gotten form Steven that he helps you go through when you start to get a little too angry, or angry enough for it to start effecting your choices and actions. Marc wouldn’t want you to end up doing something you might come to regret later.

Steven Grant

Steven would be a little more prepared to have a partner whose emotions can be quite strong and a little all over the place. He might have to catch up sometimes, but he’s more likely to match your vibe. It might cause a bit of a loop, especially when he gets excited talking about his interests and you just egg him on.

Knows multiple types of de-escalation exercises or focusing exercises, that he needs to use himself quite regularly. This means hes great at helping talk you down or get you to focus on something else when you get a little too angry or frustrated on something.

Quite enjoys how happy you can be at times, especially on days where Steven himself is feeling stressed. Its like a breath of fresh air, or maybe a shot of espresso.

Jake Lockley

Even worse than Marc when it comes to dealing with all your strong different emotions in the beginning, he just doesn’t show it. Jake is more the type to lay low and observe, letting him feel out what’s on the agenda today before he interacts.

He doesn’t talk much, so he’s more than happy to sit back and listen to you ramble for hours if you get excited about something, or just need to angry rant about one thing or another that pissed you off today.

When you start to get too worked up, both positively or negatively, Jake will wrap an arm around your waist and pull you to his side. Or he will grab your hand and give it a squeeze. Not enough to hurt, but enough to bring you down to earth so you guys can think whatever is going on through logically.

[boredzillenial]

Biting

You make good on your word to Steven with some, unforeseen hiccups.

Themes: f!reader awkwardness, mention of masterbation, oral (reader receiving), biting, piv, creampie

Word count: 3.1k (don't look at me like that I got carried away)

A.N.: This part 3 of the College AU, if you haven’t already go read Part 1 and Part 2!

How you're going to survive the next few hours, you aren’t quite sure. With that eager look in Steven’s eyes you take a step back. “Tonight, let me get my roomie out for the night and I’ll text you, okay?”

“How long.” His quiet desperation sends your heart pounding faster.

“Just a bit.” You glance at your phone. “We’ve still got like 3 hours of work left.” You make your way around him with your half empty cart, blood rushing in your ears. “Just, try to finish that and it’ll be over before you know it.”

He nods, “Yeah, I can try.” his voice a bit shaky as he heads in the opposite direction.

The time passes like molasses, with every step you can feel the absolute mess sitting in your panties. The sensation making it nearly impossible to focus. You have to deal with this soon.

Finally you empty your cart and head to the elevator, glancing around with no sign of Steven. One last glance and you head down, puzzled when you make it to the storage room and still don’t see him. You shrug it off and head to the staff toilet.

With the door shut and the light leaking from the crack at the bottom you roll your eyes and wait. A few too many minutes pass when curiosity gets the better of you. As you lean in you can here something but you aren’t quite sure, then a choked whimper echoes behind the door, “Shit… ah fuckkk.” The panting behind the door worsening your current status of your underwear. “Bollocks - my sweater.”

Rustling behind the door sends you panicking. You take a few steps back, hiding behind a shelf and peeking through the books as you wait for Steven to come out.

Finally he exits, furiously rubbing a wet paper towel on his sweater. The flush of pink from his release still bright across his face. He looks around cautiously, tosses the paper towel in the trash and hastily grabs the next cart full of books.

Once he's out of sight you slip into the bathroom and quickly lock the door behind you. All at once the smell of soap and cum smacks into your senses. You try as fast as you can to clean yourself up, stuffing toilet paper in your underwear before heading back out. By the time you exit your senses are swimming while you grab the next cart and check the time. Just a little while longer…

That little while flies by when Donna’s hard stare bores into you, “There’s still all that left what's a matter with you?!” She scolds.

“Sorry sorry,” you duck and make your way up to the second floor. Depositing the books in their proper place as quickly as you can. A sudden buzz in your pocket makes you nearly jump out of your skin.

Payment Received from Jake

You roll your eyes then get a text, from Steven.

was gonna wait for you but Donna keeps giving me a stink eye. Txt me when I can come over yeah?

You quickly send your reply to Steven and fill the shelves faster than you thought possible. Grabbing your jacket you hastily shoot another text, this time to your roomie to find someplace else to hang out for a couple hours. You bolt across campus and just as your running into the lobby of the dormitory you see her laying across the couch, head in the lap of a girl. Probably the one from last night, “Hell yeah go get it!” You hear her cheer you on as you bolt to the elevator.

One you make your way into your room you hastily clean, opting to kick the remaining loose clothing under your bed. You turn to clean off your cluttered desk till you spot a rumpled t-shirt on your chair, Steven’s shirt. A cheeky thought enters your mind as you change into it, the hem barely long enough to cover your bare pussy and most of your ass.

You walk over to the full length mirror hanging next to the door to admire yourself, adjusting the shirt and staring at your bare legs. “You’ve got this, he’s the virgin, you know what you’re doing.” You try to talk yourself up, it comes out more like you’re trying to convince yourself.

Just as you’re about to continue you hear an urgent knock at the door. “What the fuck-“ you whisper, peeking through the peep hole, “Marc, what are you doing?”

He jumps slightly, “Jake told me what happened, I just wanted to say sorry - for that.”

“I’ve already been paid off but thanks for the apology, you can go now!” Trying to keep the annoyance from your voice proves difficult as you turn to continue your hasty clean up.

“Can we talk? I’d like to apologize face to face, I feel like an idiot for how I reacted when we saw you in Steven’s bed.” He pushes the doorknob and the door opens a crack.

“Hey! Privacy!” You shriek as you lean against the door, glaring at the glimpse of him in the mirror. His eyes go wide, in this position bracing against the door the shirt did absolutely nothing to cover your rear.

“Fuck sorry!” He squeezes his eyes shut and stumbles back, the door slams sending you nearly sprawling on the floor.

You hear his panicked footsteps fade down the hall. Jesus Christ these brothers are gonna be the end of you. You try to shake off that in the span of a day - you’ve caught Jake fucking in the library, Marc just saw your entire naked ass, and you were about to take Steven’s virginity.

Anxiety began to claw its way up your throat. “It’s too much, this is too much I - Fuck he’s gonna hate me I, I just can’t do this tonight.” You go to text Steven when a softer knock sounds at the door. You peek and lo-and-behold it’s him. You crack the door open a tad “Hey I was just about to text you-“ your excuse is cut short as he pushes his way inside, grasping your face in his hands and kissing you in that same hungry way from earlier. Okay maybe you could do this.

“Hang on.” You say breathlessly as you shut and lock the door.

Steven uses the moment to rake his eyes over you, “Is that my shirt again?” He smiles softly “I think you’ll really like Avatar Kyoshi.”

“Who?” You look down at the front of the shirt, taking in the woman on the front with her painted face and battle pose.

“Nevermind, I’ll show you later.” He grins as he eagerly pulls his sweater up and over his head. Muscle and smooth skin with a whisper of a soft tummy sends your heart pounding.

“Steven I-“ he undoes his belt, the sound of his pants and boxers hitting the linoleum are the only sound in the room as you bite your lip. Fucksake why is it the quiet ones that are always packing. His cock looks hard as stone as he stands infront of you, a drop of precum already at the tip.

“Sorry I don’t know how any of this really works. You can just, tell me what to do yeah?” He looks like he’s nearly shivering with anticipation, or maybe from holding himself back.

You can feel slickness gathering as you take a long look at him. His gaze glued to your exposed legs as you take him by the hand and lead him to sit on the edge of your bed.

“I’m gonna start with kissing and touching you, then when you’re ready we can move on to more.” You say softly, his hands glide across your thighs, then toy with the hem of the shirt. “I’m on birth control, and I’ve been tested recently. So to make it special we can go without a condom if you’re comfortable.”

His eyes light up as he looks up at you. “You sure?” You bite your lip a moment and nod, eliciting a groan from him. His hands glide, touching your soft mound. His breath catches as he slides his hand further still to the slickness gathering there.

He gulps, “I, I need to know. Is anything off limits? Like any parts of your body or, or anything specific?” His voice his nearly shaking.

“Huh? Uh I guess not - OH!” He lunges forward, your sentence ends with a gasp as he buries his face between your legs. Kneeling on the tile he laps and sucks at your folds. You dig your fingers into his curls, “Fuck Steven that’s - ah fuck that’s good.”

His tongue is hungry and searching, not getting much further than your clit as he presses his face into you. “Get on the bed.” He breathes against your center as he adjusts, managing to send you stumbling onto the bed with a giggle.

Once on your back, ass at the edge of the bed he spreads your legs wide. His breath catching as he looks you over, you can feel heat rising up your throat and face as he gazes. Then, slowly you feel the light press of his fingers through your folds.

You bite back a groan as he continues to explore, gliding and barely pressing into you. You look down to see him eagerly staring up at you. “I wanna make you feel good. Tell me how love.”

“Steven tonight is supposed to be about you.” You chuckle “Do what you wan- shit.” yet again he interrupts you with his tongue as he dives into your channel. He drags his tongue out, swirling up to your clit then back down into you. It’s like he can’t decide which he’d rather do.

He shifts, putting your legs over his shoulders as he presses his tongue deeper into you. Your legs are already quivering as he continues to tongue-fuck you. “S-Steven you don’t have to -” You pant.

He pulls away a moment. “I want to. Gods I want it all.” He adjusts his focus to lapping at your clit. Your senses are swimming as you feel his hands knead at your thighs and ass. You weren’t sure whether this was the wettest you’d ever been because of your own juices or if he was drooling. Whatever the combination, it was dripping down your ass onto the floor.

His tongue swirls and works over your core till you’re writhing. At one point you’re nearly jumping from the pressure on your bundle of nerves. Your fingers twist into his curls, grabbing a handful and slowing his pace till your thighs clamp around his head. His whimpers and groans humming against your core send you crashing over the edge.

Your body goes slack and his hands shift, spreading you wide. He pulls away to look at you again, his lips and chin glistening. “What about,” his thumb presses against your tight rim, managing to slip in to his first knuckle from the slickness gathered there.

Your eyes shoot open as you jolt away. “Woah!” You gasp. “One thing at a time.” You laugh breathlessly.

He pulls back, looking momentarily defeated. “Some other time?”

“Yeah,” you nod, shifting to kneel on the bed. “Lay down.” You pat the pillow and pull his hand forward. He climbs on and lays down. “Well since you’ve tossed my plan out the window,” you chuckle “Do you want to feel my mouth or me.” You slide your hand down to your mound and swirl your fingers around your clit.

“Can I feel you? Please I- I don’t think I can wait much longer.” His beg comes out wrecked. "I want this off," he breathes as he pull his shirt off you in one swift tug.

You grin, straddling across his lap and settling. You begin to roll your hips, gliding the slickness across his shaft and gods the heat of him against you was driving you mad. You reach down and point him upward, slowly sinking onto the tip. You shiver at sensation and continue, he stretches your soaking channel deliciously.

A choked whimper echos in the dorm room as his hips buck up. “Feels so good,” he grabs your hips, pushing himself to the hilt. You try to lift off, the stretch all at once overwhelming your senses. “Stay oh gods please stay.” He pleads loudly, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tight against him.

“Steven,” you pant “Steven it’s too much,” the slight burn fades to pleasure as he pulls out, only to thrust deeply again.

“ ‘s not enough. I’m sorry it’s, it's not enough.” His broken pleas shoot lighting to your core as he sets a frantic, uneven pace. “Oh gods thank you, I’m sorry, thank you.”

You hear banging on the wall beside you, “Shhh. Fuckkk - we’ve gotta b-be quieter.”

His unrelenting broken pleas continue, thank you, I’m sorry, thank you. You hear more banging on the wall and in a moment of panic you lean back, pulling him up with you to bury his face between your breasts and stifle his resounding pleas.

The moment his nose bumps against your chest he turns, biting the side of your breast and whimpering against your skin. You hiss against the sting and look down. His mess of curls have fallen across his forehead and his brows furrow as the blush of pleasure spreads across his cheeks.

You tug on his curls to get him to release, his eyes half lidded as they look up at you. They then lower to look at the mark he made and you could feel him pulse inside you. “S-sorry.” He stammers.

“Don’t be,” you lean forward, kissing him deeply and sliding your tongue across his lips. He pulses again and groans into your mouth. His hips struggling to roll with the way you're straddling him.

Before you realize what’s happening your back hits the mattress. He leans forward kissing and nipping at your neck. He trails across your skin until he reaches your shoulder and bites down. You cry out, body arching, the sound seems to only encourage him as he shifts to bite down on your other breast.

Steven’s hips continue their frantic pace as he bites and sucks across your neck and chest. And just when that familiar tightness winds in your core he shifts again, this time lifting your legs and pinning them higher with his arms, his thighs caging you in and pressing deeper into you.

“Fuck, feel so good. Mating press feels to good.” He groans, in this new position with your legs wide you were at the mercy of his frenzied pace.

“The, what?” You ask breathlessly.

“N-nothing nevermind.” He pants. He slows down a moment, grinding against you, you whimper at the pressure against your clit.

“S-Steven I, I’m gonna come.” Your legs shake with the oncoming sensation.

“Fuck - me too.” In the same breath your channel flutters around him. The squeeze around his length is blinding as he pumps rope after rope into you.

Steven slowly adjusts, releasing your legs for them to drape them his hips as he presses his forehead against yours. “Y-you alright?” He asks shakily, his unsteady breaths fanning across your face as his mahogany gaze searches your eyes.

A lazy smile spreads across your lips as you nod. “Better than alright.”

His eyes shift down to the marks he’s left across your skin. Then, oh so slowly, he places a soft kiss on every one of them. “Sorry, got a little carried away.” He whispers.

You reciprocate his kisses with one of your own on his cheek. “It’s alright. Really.” He peers at your face, looking for something but your not quite sure what. “Come on, let’s clean up.” You tap his side, he moves a little too quickly and winces as his oversensitive softening cock slips free.

You bite back a smile and while you wanted to help him down from his high, you were worried about him getting clingy. For the next hour or so help put him back together and give a quick cuddle before sending him back to his room. He leaves with half-lidded eyes a contented smile as he shuffles off to his room.

You toss on a large hoodie and sweats, texting your roomie the all clear. She comes bounding in with a smirk, “You gotta fill me in! I need details”

“It’s nothing I was,” you search for how to explain what just happened. “Doing a friend a favor.” You chuckle and awkwardly rub the back of your neck.

Your roomies eyes go wide as the lock onto your neck, “Help a friend?! Bitch you did not!” She squeals and pulls your collar back, revealing the bites and hickeys across your shoulder. “Wait, that guy in the hall… Did you… All this from little Stevie?!”

“It’s Steven actually,” you tug the collar from her grasp and pull your hood up. “Turns out, not little…” you can't quite bite back the grin playing at the edge of your lips.

“Oh, my, god you gotta tell me everything!” She laughs and jumps onto her bed.

“Absolutely not, I think all these say enough.” You tease.

“All what?” You jolt at the voice behind you, you whip around to see Jake standing in the open doorway.

Quickly you tug on the drawstring of your hoodie. “All nothing, and way to invite yourself into the conversation.”

Jake shrugs “You weren’t responding to my texts, and I brought a peace offering.” He smirks and pulls a bottle of tequila from his jacket.

You see your roommate’s eyes go wide. “Hell yeah come in! Close the door I don’t wanna share with the rest of the floor.” She says excitedly. “Come on girl just show him, it’s no biggie right?”

“Show me what?” He smirks.

“None of your - hey!” You protest as Jake yanks down your hood and pulls the collar wide.

A light blush tinges the tips of his ears as he takes in the marks across your skin. “Oh really, finally getting some for yourself huh?” He smirks, but there’s a hit of something else in his eyes.

“From Steven of all people!” Your roomie calls over her shoulder as she pours shots into assorted coffee mugs and hands them to you both. You do your best to kill her with a look.

Jake’s brow raises, his dark gaze boring into you as you clink your mug against his and tip back the burning liquor. “Alright spill, now.”

—————

Moon Knight Masterlist

Moon Knight Bingo

Taglist: @moonknight-events @melodygatesauthor @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @ominoose @romana-after-dark @lunar-ghoulie @flowercrownonapegion @howellatme @mooksmouse @ahookedheroespureheart @beezusvreeland @auntiegigi @moonkxit @faretheeoscar @softestqueeen @spidey-3 @steven-grants-world

[melodygatesauthor]

The Best Kept Secrets - Marc's Story

dbf!Marc Spector X f!Reader

Not Beta Read - Masterlist - AO3 Link

Suggested reading order - Marc -> Steven -> Jake -

Steven's Story - Jake's Story

Summary:

You've just graduated college and you find yourself developing feelings for your dad's best friend after your graduation party. Three different versions of the same story all with different boys.

Tags/Warnings (for all three fics):

NSFW, age gap (reader is about 22 - boys are 40), reader is not race-coded, reader graduated college in America but isn't necessarily American, p in v creampie, unprotected sex, dbf trope, oral sex, coercion (sort of on both sides), Jake being Jake, Marc being Marc, Steven being Steven, forbidden relationship, forbidden sex, blowjob, mild bondage, dirty talk, alcohol consumption, car sex, bad puns

Word Count: 9.4k (apparently I can't write anything short anymore)

You got out of the Uber when it stopped in front of your childhood home. Your dad was already waiting for you by the front door, smiling wide. He came over with his arms out, pulling you into a big hug. You grunted from the tight squeeze.

“Hi dad.” You choked out.

“I sweetie.” He let go of you and looked you over. “How was the ride from the airport?” He started taking two of your bags out of the trunk and walking back toward the house with you in tow.

“Long,” you said with a tired laugh.

“Well, hope you’re not too tired cause there’s a few people here to see you.”

He opened the front door and you were greeted by several relatives and family friends in the kitchen. They all shouted, congratulations! at once, holding up an assortment of beer bottles and glasses of wine. Knowing your dad, the drinking had been going on for a couple of hours before you arrived.

“Thanks everyone,” you said with a big smile, feeling a little shy having all those eyes on you.

You noticed the black and gold, congrats graduate, banner adorning the wall above the table in the dining area. With the initial excitement over, the crowd dissipated and you watched everyone start mingling once again. Your cousins came up to you and started exchanging quick updates on their lives while everyone else chattered around you throughout the house.

“What do you think, huh?” Your dad asked, coming up behind you while you admired the cake in the center of the dining table. He handed you a mixed drink.

“Dad, this is really great. There’s so many people! I really wasn’t expecting this when you said we were having a graduation barbecue. Thought maybe only a couple people would show up.” You looked to see your aunt talking with one of your dad’s friends in the living room.

“You know me better than that. Not everyday your kid graduates college,” he patted your back proudly, “shit, gotta go check the grill. I’ll be right back.”

While he was gone, you watched your aunt and your dad’s friend finish their conversation. You’d known Marc since you were a kid, but it had been a long time since you’d seen each other. He came over to you and held up his beer as if to say cheers. He still looked so rough around the edges, just how you always remembered him. You looked him up and down, trying not to make it seem too obvious.

Has he been working out?

“Congrats. College…wow.” He took a swig off his beer bottle, “all grown up.”

You gave him a nervous giggle, “yeah, I guess.” You felt inexplicably shy all of a sudden, you tried to make small talk, “How have you been? It’s been so long.”

He shrugged, “been keeping busy, staying out of trouble,” he gulped some of his beer down and then looked at you with those brown eyes that seemed to sparkle when the light hit them just right.

You felt your cheeks getting flush for what felt like, at the time, nothing worth getting flustered over. Marc was handsome, anyone could see that, but you’d never looked at him that way. He’d always just been your dad’s best friend. Then again, he’d never looked at you like that. Were you imagining things? He seemed to be sneaking glances at different parts of your body. His eyes trekked over your neck, down to the crevice of your slightly low cut shirt, beyond your denim jeans and finally onto the floor which is when he rubbed the back of his neck like he was nervous.

“Still fixing toilets?” You sipped your drink, trying to change the subject quickly.

“Yeah…well…sort of. I do all kinds of handyman stuff, not just toilets. I also do home inspections.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, handing it over to you.

You read the print and huffed out a laugh at the obvious pun.

Marc Spector

The Home In-Spector

“It’s dumb I know.” He rolled his eyes, taking another drink.

You raised an eyebrow, “I think it’s clever. Definitely memorable.” Someone called your name from outside, interrupting the casual conversation. “Oh, I gotta go, see you around, Marc.”

“Yeah…you too.”

After several hours and a few drinks later, you were sitting around the firepit with only your dad, one of your cousins and Marc. You remembered the roaring laughter over a dumb joke that Marc made at your expense. You grumbled and gave him the finger. You weren’t actually upset, and had a hard time keeping yourself from bursting out into laughter as well. Marc flipped you off in return and smiled at you. Marc’s smile was so fucking beautiful. Why hadn’t you noticed before tonight how good looking he was? This feeling you had was so wrong…but you wanted him so badly all of a sudden. It had to be the alcohol, that was the only explanation.

A little while later, you were tipsy and felt your eyelids closing involuntarily, no matter how hard you tried to keep them open.

They closed again, and when you opened them this time, it was only you and Marc left around the fire.

Closed again.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been out, but the sudden movement stirred you awake. You were being carried by a set of strong arms. Did your dad come back to get you? No. He would’ve woken you up so you could walk to bed. You wrapped your arms around the man’s shoulders and buried your face in his neck. Marc, you thought.

He smelled warm, like he’d been in the sun all day. Your lips brushed the soft skin there, and you felt a strong sense of comfort wash over you. Alcohol had a way of making you forget to filter your emotions, and right now you were hoping Marc would never let go. You didn’t know why you felt that way. None of it made sense. It’s not like he’d made any sort of pass at you during your growing up, and he had certainly been respectful all night.

So why did you feel like you wanted him to fill you up with everything he had?

It had to be the alcohol. You drank too much, and it was making you feel flirty, and foolish, like you didn’t care about the consequences of any bad decisions you might be inclined to make. Marc sat you down on your bed. You didn’t lay down yet, you just sat there, clutching his shirt so he couldn’t walk away. He grabbed your wrist and looked down at you through his own hooded and intoxicated gaze.

“Marc,” you said softly.

He knelt down, eyes level with yours, “what?”

You looked between his eyes. What did you want from him? Did you expect him to throw away a friendship that was older than you’d been on the planet so that you could fulfill this seemingly random and new feeling? If you would just let go of his damn shirt, he could leave and you would go to bed. It was so simple, but you felt an ache between your legs and a burning desire for him that you couldn’t make sense of.

“Don’t go, please.”

He gave you a gentle smirk, “I have to go to bed,” his smile almost killed you, “you gotta let go of my–”

“Take care of me first…don’t you know what you did to me?”

You were both breathing so heavily, and his eyes kept darting to your lips. You weren’t sure who dove in first, but you both started kissing each other hungrily, motions made sloppier from the alcoholic influence you were both under. Marc continued to claim every moan that left your mouth while you guided his hand down to the waist of your pants. He tucked his thick fingers in and felt between your soaking wet folds.

“Holy shit,” he commented in a breathy rasp, “did I really make you that fuckin’ wet? How long have you felt this way about me?”

“A long time,” you lied.

You always had found him attractive. Objectively speaking, Marc was a good looking man. Regarding wanting to let him take you on every surface in your childhood home? That feeling was brand new to you. Something between the drunken fogginess and the sweet way he carried you changed something in your DNA. You needed him…badly.

All too suddenly, Marc gained a conscience. He pulled his hand free from your pants, and backed away from you quickly. He looked you up and down, running a hand through his hair, eyes plagued with guilt. It was all too clear that this fantasy of yours was over. Whatever this moment was that the intoxication had afforded you, ended with some sense of clarity that tore through Marc.

“No, no.”

That was all he could say, not one word more before he left your room in haste. He didn’t need to say anything else. You knew deep down you were dumb for thinking Marc would actually do anything with you. You knew that was a one-time thing, and that he would want to go about as though it never happened. For your father’s sake, you would take an oath of silence, despite the feelings you were keeping buried deep.

----

The next morning at breakfast, Marc had flat out refused to make eye contact with you. Even when you asked him to pass the orange juice, he kept his head down when handing it to you over the turntable. You scowled when you took it from him, but took the bottle without added drama. Of course you understood that things were awkward, but if he kept treating you like you didn’t exist, that was even weirder. If he thought blatantly avoiding you in front of your dad wasn’t suspicious, he was sorely mistaken.

The moment your father went up to use the bathroom, you took the opportunity to talk to Marc who, at that moment, was clenching his jaw and pretending to look at his phone. The man still used a Motorola flip phone. You couldn’t imagine there was anything very interesting on a phone without internet access, unless he was trying to avoid you deliberately.

“Marc, I’m not going to say anything to him or anyone, but you acting like this is more suspicious than if we fucked on the table in front of him so–”

“Can you please watch your mouth. Don’t say things like that.” He said in a harsh whisper, “I just don’t want to think about it, alright?” His thick Chicago accent always came out when he got irritated.

“I’m fine with that, I just mean…you’re not being very subtle. Just pretend nothing happened and treat me like I exist…please.”

When your dad came back downstairs, Marc seemed to make a better effort to act like he always did around you, and it worked. Even you had a couple moments where you almost forgot that there was something awkward between you two. You kept reminding yourself it was only a kiss, and it was only a kiss, but you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t want so much more.

----

For two weeks you fought off thoughts about your dad’s best friend. You tried so hard not to think about the way his arms felt carrying you up to bed the other night; so hard not to think about the way he smelled when you had your face buried in his neck; you tried so fucking hard not to think about the way his fingers felt brushing over your clit while he kissed you so passionately.

You were surprised when your father left for work and only a couple of hours later, Marc arrived. You didn’t know he was there, and nearly screamed when you heard him whistling downstairs as you were stepping out of the shower. You peered out the window and saw his truck with his company logo on the side. You let out a sigh of relief, realizing that there wasn’t a burglar in your home, but that initial fear was quickly replaced with an anxiety that you couldn’t shake. The only thing you could think about was how badly you wanted to feel his lips on yours again.

After you changed into your shorts and a tanktop, you decided to make your way downstairs to see why he was there in the first place. Marc was laying under the sink, cabinet doors open on either side of him. You couldn’t help but notice the way his biceps flexed under the tight t-shirt he wore, and the dark trail of hair that disappeared under the waist of his pants on his exposed abdomen.

“Marc.” You said gently, as though hearing your voice any volume higher might send him into a rage.

He froze, letting out an exasperated sigh that split through the room. He clanked some of his tools and grunted as he sat up to look at you. He held a furrowed brow, daring you to say something about the night you shared two weeks ago; daring you to bring the memory of that deep shame back to the forefront of his mind. You found yourself having a hard time speaking all of a sudden.

“Look, your dad asked me to come by and fix a few things, just stay out of my way and–”

“M-my air conditioner isn’t working and I was hoping you could take a look at it.” You spat your words out so fast you weren’t sure if he would even be able to understand you.

There was, of course, nothing wrong with your air conditioner, but you wanted to get Marc in your room, alone again, if only for a second. He stood up, aggravation still apparent in his furrowed brow.

“Your ac is broken?” He crossed his arms over his chest, “what’s wrong with it?”

“I don’t know, isn’t that your job? I just need you to look at it.”

He grabbed his toolbelt off the ground and followed you up the stairs with a look that told you he was unimpressed, and hardly believed that you needed him to actually fix something. When you got to your room, he went to the window where your perfectly functioning air conditioner sat, and you silently latched the door behind yourself. You felt it getting harder to breathe.

He turned the air conditioner on to test it, learning immediately that he’d been tricked into going up there. He turned slowly, brow furrowed in frustration. Despite his obvious aggravation, you noticed the quick shift of his eyes taking in your frame before looking back at your face. He crossed his arms tightly, scowling at you.

“The hell are you trying to pull huh?” His accent came out in his peeved tone. He walked up to you, but you stayed firmly in front of the door. “Move.”

You looked up at him, “Marc please, I can’t stop thinking about you since we kissed.”

He grabbed your shoulders roughly and you thought he might slot his lips over yours in a flurry of breathless kisses, but he didn’t. Instead he turned to scolding you as though you were a child, which only served to piss you off.

“It was a drunk mistake that never should’ve happened. I let it go, you should too,” his voice was low and harsh.

It was crushing to hear that he wasn’t even going to entertain the thought, though it wasn’t exactly a surprise. You weren’t sure what you’d expected. Marc was always trying to do what he considered to be the right thing, and now was no different. You were his best friend’s daughter. Of course he wasn’t going to do anything with you. But when you looked over at his flexing biceps on either side of you, and felt the strength in the way his hands held onto your shoulders, you couldn’t help the way you wanted him.

“I can’t. I…I think about you almost every night.”

There was another cold silence, save for the hum of the air conditioner that was still working exceptionally well. You weren’t normally so forward, but it was true. Despite your attempts to not think about him since your encounter, you’d failed. Most nights since then were spent with your fingers two knuckles deep in your soaking wet cunt, thinking about all the ways you wanted Marc to take you under your father’s roof.

“You’re stupid you know that? Just stop, you’re my friend’s kid. He know you act like this? Huh?”

If his tone wasn’t evidence enough that he was through with the conversation, his actions were. Marc moved you aside by force and then made a quick escape from your house. He hadn’t even finished working on the sink downstairs. You wondered if Marc was going to tell your dad about your conversation that day, but when your dad got home that night, he never said a word about it. You tried to move on, despite the ache in your chest.

----

You wondered if Marc would ever come back to your house again, until your dad was on his way out the door for work and told you he was coming back to finish the sink. Your cheeks grew hot immediately when you thought about it. Your dad left, and you rushed around getting ready for Marc to show up. You knew he’d told you to back off, but thoughts of him continued to plague your mind and you couldn’t seem to help yourself.

What the hell am I gonna wear, you asked yourself.

It was foolish to think about what you were going to wear in a silly attempt at seducing your dad’s best friend. You couldn’t even begin to understand why you were attempting to seduce your dad’s best friend. It was obvious that he didn’t want you, he’d pushed you out of the way the other day. That didn’t stop you from wondering what it would feel like to brush your lips over the soft skin of his throat again. It didn’t stop you from thinking about what his thick fingers would feel like stretching out your pussy while you dug your nails into his toned shoulders.

When he finally arrived, you waited to make sure he was working before you went downstairs. You were silent, knowing that alerting him to your presence might make him run off. You’d chosen to wear a short little skirt, a tank-top, and you opted out of your bra and panties. You needed to make it as easy as you could for him to take what he wanted from you. Despite the way he pushed you away, you knew he wanted you.

He was working hard, twisting a wrench around one of the pipes. His arm obstructed his view so he didn’t see you coming. Without a word, and without his knowing, you walked over to him, standing on either side of his thighs. He noticed you when you dropped to your knees, straddling him. He looked at you with that signatured furrowed brow.

“What the…you’re starting to be a real fuckin’ problem, you know that?” His voice was dark and threatening.

“Am I?” You asked in a coy tone, dragging your cunt over his crotch, feeling the brush of the denim against your clit.

He sat up fast, and you thought he might shove you off of him, but he didn’t. Instead, his hand grabbed your hip firmly. You gasped when his face got close to yours, eyes narrowed and wracked with guilt. His nose brushed against yours. You felt your hips involuntarily rock against the growing bulge behind his jeans.

“What’s it gonna take for you to let this go, huh?” He used one hand to push your skirt back while the other slid up your inner thigh. “What’s it gonna take for you to stop this shit?”

You put both of your hands on his shoulders for stability. His fingers found your folds and you felt your entire body surge with desire. Marc’s chest rumbled when he leaned in to steal your moans in a mess of deep kisses. His grasp on your thigh was so tight it left divots in your skin. He pulled you forward, sliding his middle finger deep into your channel.

“Fuck, I get you that worked up?” He said against your lips.

You hummed an affirmative into his mouth. He slid another finger in, and already you felt the delicious stretch of his thick digits testing your hole. It was a tight fit, two that is, and it felt better than you could’ve dreamed. If you’d known it was going to be like this, you might’ve been more persistent when he came up to your room the week before. He curved them, touching that sweet spot that made you whine in response.

“Where are all the boys your age? Why aren’t you going after them, hm? You like pissing me off?”

You didn’t want to answer him, because the truth was stupid. You didn’t care about the “boys your age”. Most of them wouldn’t know their way around a pussy if you had an arrow pointing to all the important parts for them. They also didn’t know you like Marc did. Marc was there to talk to you on the late nights after a family barbecue when you couldn’t sleep and your dad was already in bed. He was there to judge your prom date with a threatening glare if the guy ever tried to hurt you, and he was there when you left for college, making sure you knew how to properly use your pepper spray keychain.

He was there for you now when you were wet and dripping down his wrist while moaning one desperately hungry kiss after another over his lips. The third finger hurt a little, but the ache of the burn became more bearable the more he worked in and out of you. Marc brought his face to your throat, leaving soft kisses there that had your cunt fluttering over his thick fingers.

“M-Marc I’m…I’m so close I–”

“Sh, just shut up. Don���t want to hear it.”

You didn’t know if it was the guilt causing him to act so cruel, but it didn’t matter to you at that moment. You were there, seconds from sweet release, but the beep of a car door locking froze you both to your core. Marc pulled his hand from you, leaving you feeling empty. You stood fast and ran up the stairs quickly, leaving Marc down there to deal with your father. You felt bad, but knew he could handle it.

When you got to your room, you could hear them start talking downstairs.

“Hey Marc!” Your dad said as he walked in, “how’s it coming?”

You heard Marc huff out a laugh, “it’s not.”

----

It would be a lie to say you weren’t thrilled at the prospect of Marc coming by to check on you while your dad was out of town for the week. You wondered if he was excited too, or if he wished that he’d never met your dad now that things had become more complicated between the two of you. Complicated wasn’t even the right word for it, it wasn’t like this was something you did regularly. You hadn’t even seen him since he fingered you by the sink two weeks ago. He seemed to be limiting his time spent at your house those days.

You understood, you weren’t stupid, but at the same time it didn’t change how badly you wanted to see him again. In fact, most days, he was all you thought about. Something about him was intoxicating. Maybe it was the danger of getting caught? Or perhaps it was the thrill of something new? It could also be the fact that he was older, and you had a feeling he knew exactly how to make you come undone like no one ever had before.

When he finally showed up, it was after dinner. You were sitting on the couch watching some crappy movie about five guys taking down a Columbian drug lord. You paused the movie and turned around to see him standing there. He ran his hand over his face and crossed his arms over his chest. You felt your heart rate picking up.

“I’m just here to check in on you, I don’t want any funny business.” He said firmly.

You gulped, and nodded, “okay, yeah that’s…I understand.”

He dropped his hands to his pockets. You watched his entire body relax before your eyes. While you understood that he didn’t want to continue the little thing you two had going on, it didn’t change the fact that you still wanted him, badly. Marc’s face looked irritated, nothing new there, but there was a mild softness to his brow.

“Well, I’m just watching this dumb movie…do you wanna watch with me?” You gestured to the other side of the couch.

Marc sighed before nodding and walking over to sit as far from you as possible on the other side of the couch. You pressed play and sat in silence for some time. Just being in his presence was making your mind buzz. You couldn’t stop replaying him fingering you by the sink on repeat in your head. When you looked over at him, his eyes were trained on the television, not because he was interested, no, it was painfully clear that he was trying to avoid eye contact with you. You couldn’t sit there anymore. The ache between your legs was growing and if you didn’t go take care of it, you were going to do something to upset him.

“I have to use the bathroom, you don’t need to pause, I'll be right back.”

You went upstairs and closed the bathroom door behind yourself. You knew it would be suspicious if you spent too much time in there, but at the very least you needed to clean yourself up. You were soaked, so wet that you probably left a mark on the couch downstairs and you didn’t know what to do. What if he saw it? Surely he’d be upset if he thought you might be thinking about him again.

When you were finished wiping up, you opened the door. You were fully prepared to go down there and tell him to leave, but you didn’t make it that far. He was standing right outside the bathroom door, eyes looking you over like he might devour you.

“Marc I–”

He stole your next words when he slotted his lips over yours. Your mind went blank, focusing only on the way his tongue tasted when it entangled with yours. His hands grabbed your shoulders, sliding down until he found purchase on your hips. A soft moan slipped through your lips while you brought your hands to the waistband of his pants. You weren’t going to beat around the bush this time, you knew exactly what you wanted and you intended to take it. 

You brushed your fingers over his pubic hair, relishing the way it felt against your skin. Marc lifted you by your rear, and you were forced to grab his broad shoulders for stability. He carried you to your room and gently laid you down on the bed, never disconnecting his lips from yours. Marc started grinding his hips against you, the hard prod of his erection apparent through his jeans.

“This what you wanted from me?” He looked at you with a combination of anger, guilt, and lust, “think you can even handle it?”

You whined, “yes, I need it, please Marc.”

In a blur, you and Marc got your clothes off so your bare chests were against each other. His skin was deceptively soft. The feeling of his thick cock gliding over your inner thigh was maddening. You arched your back upward and brought your hands around the base of Marc’s neck. He used both of his hands to pin your wrists down above your head.

“You turned out to be such a fuckin’ brat you know that?” He was almost growling out his words.

“Guess you’ll have to put me in my place-OH SHIT!”

Marc thrust himself into you and buried his face in your neck. You weren’t quiet while he moved at an unforgiving pace. His lips dragged over your throat, leaving soft kisses in their wake. The juxtaposition of between his harsh fucking and tender kissing was making your mind go blank. Everything he did felt so good, better than you could’ve imagined. You still couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

“Marc-feels so good fuck-yes!” You shouted through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, I bet it does honey, bet it feels really fucking good. You happy now? You glad you got me to fuck you? Hm?!”

Marc was taking his guilty conscience out on you. He picked his head up and looked down at you, grabbing your jaw tightly in his hand. You whimpered at his firm grip, but you were enjoying the way he manhandled you. His lips were pulled together in a thin line while he huffed in tandem with his thrusts. A few stray hairs fell down from their normally slicked back place and into his eyes. Fuck he’s so pretty.

“Yeah, I am,” you taunted, knowing it would only serve to piss him off even more. “Are you really going to act like-oh shit-like it doesn’t feel good? You make me so wet-fuck!”

He was slamming your bed against the wall with how hard he would pull back and then snap his hips forward into you. You were writhing underneath him from the sensations all over your body, but you couldn’t move your arms still. He went back to sucking on your neck, and you were surprised when his hands slid off of your wrists and moved to intertwine your fingers in his.

Marc was being intimate with you.

Just when you thought it couldn’t feel any better, he was starting to nuzzle his nose behind your ear, taking a deep breath and inhaling your scent. His movements slowed to a more even pace, as though he were trying to savor every delicious movement, rather than fuck the guilt away. You turned your head to the side, meeting with Marc’s lusty and hooded gaze. Electricity sparked in your stomach at the sight of him.

“Marc–”

He started kissing you again, as though the sound of your voice was going to cause him harm if he had to hear you speak any longer. You wondered if it reminded him of who he was sleeping with. You didn’t care that he was your dad’s best friend anymore, you hadn’t for a while. Nothing had ever felt so good in every way. His hands squeezed around you tighter, and you heard him start moaning louder into you.

“Gonna fill your little pussy up baby, then we’ll see how mouthy you are.”

You couldn’t speak as your climax approached faster than you’d anticipated. All you could do was let your eyes roll back and your body melt into the bed. You felt your cunt squeezing around his thick cock as he filled you with his hot spend. Fuck he sounds so good. He was moaning deep rasps into your ear while he fucked his cum into you.

When his thrusts finally slowed and you were both a sated and panting mess, he pulled out of you. You mumbled about the towel on your dresser that he used to clean himself off and then toss to you. You wiped yourself up and then slowly stood, starting to change into your clothes.

“You can stay,” you said to Marc, hoping that he wasn’t going to just fuck you and leave, but you knew better.

Marc finished getting dressed and then he looked at you, brows furrowed and guilt etched into every pore on his face. You knew that he was going to say no, so when the words left his lips you weren’t surprised. That didn’t change the disappointment that you took with you downstairs while saying goodbye.

“We can’t do this again,” Marc said coldly in the doorway, “it’s done…alright?”

You nodded sullenly. He nodded in return and left. You were alone again.

You weren’t sure why it made you emotional to hear him say the words ‘it’s done…alright?’, but you felt a pit in your stomach. Was it because he’d been so intimate with you not ten minutes ago? Was it because he made you feel like no one else ever had? Perhaps it was a combination of both. Either way, you spent the evening finishing that terrible movie with your face buried in a box of tissues, just begging for sleep to take you away from your overwhelming feelings.

----

You didn’t see Marc again for three weeks. So much happened in three weeks and you were determined to act normal when you saw him again after that time had passed. When your dad had told you he was coming over for dinner, you froze. It had been a while since you and Marc had been in the same room, and even longer since you’d been in the same room together with your father present. The pit in your stomach was already forming.

Your phone buzzed on the counter and you picked it up. Joey, the guy you’d met last week at the local coffee shop was asking if you were still on for tomorrow night. You replied, ‘yes’, and then put your phone in your pocket. As hard as it was, going out with someone else was a necessary step in getting things back to normal. What were you holding out for anyway? For Marc to come in and sweep you off your feet? To tell your dad that he’d been sleeping with you and that you were going to be together now? Maybe if you both had a death wish, that would be a perfect plan.

When he walked into the house, burgundy shirt hugging his chest a little too tight for your sanity, you felt your breath hitch in your throat. He was still so handsome. It’s not like you expected that to change, but you’d hoped that maybe you would’ve stopped mentally putting him on a pedestal by now so you could move on. But you didn’t, and you couldn’t.

“Hey, Marc.” You said softly as he made his way to the dining room.

“Hey.” He actually looked at you this time, as if he wasn’t going to burn alive by meeting your gaze.

The heat rose to your cheeks in a rush, making you feel lightheaded. You sat down at the table and both Marc and your father joined. The small talk was just what you needed; your dad asking Marc how business was going and Marc asking you about your job hunt. Marc was making a career out of drinking his wine. If anything was a sign of his nervousness it was that. You were glad that you weren’t the only one feeling the awkward weight in the air.

“So, why don’t you tell Marc about…you know,” your dad gave you a knowing look.

You shifted nervously, “um, well…” you looked into Marc’s dark brown eyes. His brow was knitted together tightly, “I’m going on a date tomorrow with a guy I met at the coffee shop up the road.”

You swigged your own wine down in one gulp. It was quiet except for the ticking clock above the archway to the kitchen. Your silverware clanked on the plate while you poked the lettuce from your salad. You looked back up at Marc.

“You like this guy?” Marc finally asked, never taking his gaze off of you.

“I don’t know,” you tried to sound indifferent, “only talked to him a couple of times.”

Marc paused before responding, “good…it will be good for you to find someone you can spend time with.”

This conversation wasn’t about you and Joey.

“Yes…and someone who isn’t going to just take advantage of me,” you stabbed your fork into your food harshly.

“Oh definitely,” he sounded sarcastic, “and make sure you’re careful with what you wear and how you act, some guys your age might get the wrong idea about the kind of girl you are.”

Asshole.

“He’s right, you know.” Your dad chimed in, seemingly oblivious to the private conversation you and Marc were having right under his nose.

“So are you saying I dress like a slut?” You stared at him, waiting to see how he planned to answer that one.

“Alright now you’re just acting like a brat, I never said–”

“Who wants more wine?” You asked, getting up and going to the kitchen and trying to end the awkward back and forth that you, admittedly, started.

The glasses of wine were filled while you and Marc continued your eternal staredown that your dad seemed oblivious to. You both guzzled down three more glasses each while your father and he entertained more small talk. When dinner concluded, he got up and went outside to start putting together a fire, and your dad asked you to do the dishes and join them when you were finished.

You did the dishes, but you didn’t join them. You told your dad you weren’t feeling well and instead retreated to your room. The last thing you wanted to do was continue the awkwardness that transpired at the dinner table. You thought that would be the end of it, that Marc would’ve had enough of your attitude and never want to speak to you again.

You were wrong.

Your father had gone to bed almost a half hour before you heard Marc working his way upstairs. You thought for sure he would walk right by your room and go to the guest room, but he didn’t. Marc twisted your door handle and walked in, closing the door quickly while he stepped inside. You sat up and looked at him quizzically, rubbing the fatigue from your eyes.

“What are you doing in here?” You asked.

Marc sat down next to you, leaning over so his face was close. You could smell the alcohol on his breath. He reached a hand up to cup your cheek, you felt him pulling you closer.

“You know exactly what I’m doing in here,” he said in a low whisper.

Of course you did. His lips were soft and tasting of liquor when he pressed them to yours. His tongue tasted even more like alcohol, but you didn’t mind. Whether it was the intoxication, or maybe he was just more comfortable with you now, his tongue felt soft while it melted against yours.

“So you have a date? Hm?” Marc looked at you, eyes dark and brow furrowed.

So that’s what this was about.

You nodded, “mhm.”

“He can’t do for you what I can do honey.” He dropped his hand from your cheek and rested it on your waist. He kissed your neck right by your ear and said, “I know just what you like.”

“I can go on a date with him…in public.” A breathy moan escaped your lips as he sucked on your skin more.

He stopped and looked at you again, “that’s not fair.”

“Nope it’s not.”

“I could take you out if–”

“But you can’t so–”

“-so, he can’t make you feel the way–”

“Maybe he can–”

“Shut the hell up.” Marc’s mouth covered yours, rendering you silent save for the moans escaping you.

He slid you forward so you were laying down and then pulled your covers off your body. That’s when he noticed that you were in nothing but a t-shirt and your underwear. His mouth closed over yours, and his hand trekked over your lower abdomen and tucked into the hem of your panties. You felt the pad of his thick middle finger brush against your clit. You could hear the wet sound it made when he started circling there.

“You’re such a little brat, you know that?” He was so breathless.

“I know,” you said just above a whisper. You arched your cunt toward him, chasing the feeling his fingers gave you .”You sound like you’re jealous.”

“I’m not, you can do whatever you want, not gonna stop you.”

“I want you, and you do keep stopping me.”

Marc sounded like an animal the way he grumbled and pulled your panties down to your ankles. You grabbed his pants and worked on getting them off, hearing his belt clank against the floor when he tossed them aside. You writhed under him, feeling the way his fat cock brushed your inner thigh. You could’ve cried it felt so fucking good to just have him touching you. Marc was right…that other guy would never be able to give you what he did. He could never make you feel the way Marc made you feel.

His erection was prodding at your hole, the leaking tip testing to make sure you were ready to take him. You grabbed his hip, pulling forward while arching into him, feeling it go in just a little further. You were feeling needy and impatient.

“Marc please,” you begged, “please.”

He dropped down to his elbows, resting on either side of your head and caging you in. You leaned up and kissed him. One of his large hands cupped your clothed breast as he thrusted full to the hilt inside of you. If not for his mouth covering yours, you would’ve screamed and awoken your father who was sleeping only two doors down in the hall. He pumped slowly, being careful not to make the bed creak.

“Better be quiet, keep your pretty little mouth shut honey.” Marc was whispering harshly while glaring down at you.

The head of his cock dragged against that spot deep inside that you could never quite reach on your own. You choked on the cries that your lungs tried to punch out of you. You wondered if this other guy would make you feel like your guts were being pushed aside every time he plunged his length deep inside of you. You wondered if he would make it hard for you to breathe every time his girth twitched in response to your fluttering walls. Mostly, you wondered if he would act like you were the most precious thing he’d ever seen every time his eyes landed on yours.

A gasp fell from your lips.

“You trying to wake up daddy? Hm? Want him to hear his little girl getting railed out of her mind?”

“N-no it just…it feels so good,” you whined. 

“I know baby, oh yes I know,” his voice was low, “no one else can make you feel like I do, right?” His voice was rough and wrecked.

“No one…n-no one, Marc.” You were struggling to keep your voice down so he covered your mouth with a large hand.

“That’s my girl.”

My girl, you thought. He said you were his girl…you wondered if he meant those words or if it was the alcohol talking.

“I’m always going to know what you need. I’m always going to know how to make you cry and squirm and fucking-fuck-baby-squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight-shit.” He started moving faster, you heard the bed creaking and you began to panic.

“Mmmm!” You couldn’t get a word out.

You felt numb, and at some point his hand became slick over your lips with the drool that leaked out beyond your control. Your mind was gone, and all you could focus on was the pleasure rolling through you with every smooth glide of his cock through your channel. Your body trembled beneath him. Your knuckles ached from how hard you grabbed his hips.

“Are you going to be a good and quiet little girl for me when you come? Or are you going to embarrass yourself, hm?” Marc’s grunts were getting louder and you started to feel nervous. “Oh honey, you feel so good. Such a tight little pussy baby-f-fuck.”

You both came at the same time, bodies pressed into each other as tight as you could so you could feel it. You noticed the way his abdomen flexed against your tummy with every pleasured groan that escaped him. You noticed how his lips tightened along with his closed eyelids; you noticed the way his cock pulsated, stretching you out while filling you to the brim with his hot cum as your cunt clenched around him firmly.

God you just wished he could stay. You wished so badly that he could just lay there in your arms when he was done and the two of you could drift off to sleep together. There was hope though. He called you his girl. He would only say that if it meant…

“Marc,” you said finally as he pulled his shirt over his head.

“Yeah?” He slid his underwear on over each leg.

“If you’re saying I’m your girl, does that mean we’re…you know?”

He looked at you with a raised brow, “what? Oh…no it’s…it’s not a thing.”

You couldn’t help the heartbreak that fell over you. You weren’t sure what you were honestly expecting. It was dumb to think anything else would’ve come from this. What were you thinking? That Marc really meant he was going to…what…go into your dad’s room and tell him that you were dating now? That he was just going to hold your hand in public and shout to the world that you two were seeing each other despite him being your dad’s best friend?

Of course not. Marc would never. The guilt would eat him alive more than it already had. You were stupid for even suggesting such a thing. He probably wished he’d never slept with you in the first place.

“Oh.”

He sighed and put his hand on the door handle.

“You have a date tomorrow, you should go on it and enjoy it.” He opened the door, letting the light from the hall pour into your bedroom. “Sorry if I gave you the wrong idea.”

“That’s it then? You’re done with this?”

“Never should’ve started this in the first place. Try to have fun. I’m sorry.”

The door closed, and you just felt empty inside. 

----

You’d never felt so stupid.

There you were, standing in the rain outside of the restaurant where you’d been stood up. Your dad was gone for the weekend on business, and you didn’t know who else to call, that’s why you called him. He’d always be there for you, you knew that. No matter the situation, no matter the time, he would always come to your rescue.

Marc.

He pulled up to you, stopping fast by the sidewalk and getting out of the car. He ran over to you and immediately took off his jacket to put it around your bare arms, but not before muttering about how dumb it was for you to wear something so impractical in the first place. You pulled the coat closer to your body as he opened the passenger’s side door for you and you sat down inside.

You looked like a drowned rat as you observed yourself in the mirror. Your makeup was running down your cheeks and your tight red dress was soaked through. He was right, you were dumb, but not just for your clothing choices. You were dumb for thinking you could avoid him, for thinking you didn’t want him, and for thinking even for a second that you could possibly grow to love anyone besides him…but he didn’t love you. He’d made that abundantly clear.

The ride to your house was silent, awkwardly so. You felt a pang in your chest over the fact that Marc wasn’t talking. It meant, to you, that he was serious about his words the night before.

“Thanks,” you said as he pulled into the driveway.

He put the car in park and turned off the engine, “couldn’t leave you out there in the rain. Your dad woulda killed me.”

“You can come inside if you want. Dad has some extra beers in the fridge.” You opened your door.

“I probably shouldn’t I–”

You paused for a moment and then muttered, “fine.” You took off his coat and shoved it in his lap. “Goodnight, thanks again for the ride.”

You tried to wait until you got inside to start sobbing, feeling vulnerable and rejected, but you failed, feeling the tears coming down along with the rain. You never should’ve made all those moves on him over the course of the last couple months. It was all a huge mistake, and deep down you’d always known that, but now after your failed date, and Marc’s refusal to comfort you, you felt the weight of your stupidity on your shoulders. The rain drowned out his footsteps, so it shocked you when you turned to close the door and he was holding it open, pushing through to follow you inside. That’s when he noticed the fresh tears escaping you.

“Are you okay?” He asked, furrowing his brow, eyes darting rapidly between yours.

“No, Marc, no I’m not okay!” You walked to the living room and stood with your back to him. “Just go,” you said when you heard him coming in behind you.

“Why are you doing this? Huh?” He was raising his voice at you.

You flipped around and looked at him incredulously, “excuse me? Why am I doing this? You are just as guilty as I am! I am sick of you acting like the victim here.”

He stepped closer, “I know I kissed you that first night, alright? I know I shouldn’t have done that but everything else is on you.”

“Oh so I’m the one who made you walk into my bedroom last night? I’m pretty sure I went to bed and avoided you.” You prodded his heaving chest with your index finger, “you’re the one who came into my room to torture me last night.”

“Oh really? You call that torture?” He stepped closer, chest brushing against yours. “Didn’t sound like torture honey, sounded like you were having the time of your fuckin’ life! You know what’s torture? When your best friend’s kid acts like a goddamn tease and he’s expected to keep his hands to himself.”

“Oh poor YOU! Big strong guy getting seduced by a little girl? Fuck you Marc! You didn’t have to do anything and you know it!” You shoved him with your arms, but he stood like a brick wall, “get the hell out of my house.”

“That what you want? You want me to go?”

His face was close, nose brushing against yours. You were mad at him. You had half a mind to slap him and push him away again, but you didn’t. You stupidly kissed him, letting his body melt into yours. You were crying even harder now, and Marc stopped, pulling back to look at you and cupping your cheeks in his hands.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No, I don’t ever want you to go, I don’t know what to do but I don’t ever want to be without you.” You said finally, letting your feelings come out.

Marc nodded, breathing heavily while he scooped you up, holding you against him and walking you to the couch with his lips over yours. In under a minute he had his pants around his thighs, and your panties pulled aside so he could plunge his cock into your wet heat once more. You both let out a pleasured cry into the living room.

“Marc please,” you looked at him, not really sure what you were begging for, but you were begging. 

“Please what?” He rolled his hips forward, never taking his eyes off you, “say it honey.”

“Please don’t push me away again, I can’t take it.”

You had more tears trickling down your face. Marc brushed them away with his thumbs. He kissed you softly, moving his hips at a slow, sensual pace. He looked at you with a forlorn expression. He was filled with pain, guilt, and something you couldn’t put your finger on.

“I won’t. I promise.”

He grabbed your hip and started moving faster, pulling you in as he pushed forward. You’d never felt anything like it, the unseen but warm comfort that filled you with his words. You brought your lips to his again, tangling one hand in his hair while the other squeezed the meat of his behind.

His moans made your body feel soft and made you pliant for him. You would’ve given him even more of yourself if it were at all possible. He rested his forehead on yours, eyes boring into you while he continued his smooth glides deep into your cunt. You’d never felt so connected to anyone, you’d never felt so special to anyone.

“Are you ok?” He asked, moving to kiss your cheek.

“Y-yes, mm, yes. Better now.”

“There’s my girl.” He cooed, forcing your stomach to flutter.

“Oh, Marc.” You whined in his ear.

He hummed into your neck, brushing his lips there gently. You felt him thrusting harder, stuffing you and stretching you wider with every forward snap of his hips. His breath was punching out of his lungs right into your skin. You felt an overwhelming swell in your chest, a desire to hold onto him and never let go. You felt him getting harder as he moved. His breathing was heavy and rough against your neck.

“Gonna make you feel good all the time honey, always gonna fill you up,” he started moving faster. “It’s insane how-fuck-how good you feel.”

“Good enough to make a good boy misbehave?” Your giggle was followed by a sharp gasp when Marc nipped the skin on the side of your neck.

He started really fucking you, skipping over the part where he gradually ramped up his speed and moving straight into the skin slapping thrusts you craved. You could tell he was getting close, forcing you so roughly into the couch you thought you might become one with it.

“I think if anyone’s been misbehaving, it’s been you honey, couldn’t just let me be could you? Needed to feel me that bad? You’re always so wet. S-so fucking wet for me.”

“Always so hard for me,” you dug your nails into the flesh of his rear.

“Hear that?” He stopped, sliding back until his cock was about to fall out of you. As he pushed back into you, painstakingly slow, you heard the sound of his cock moving along your slick coated walls until he was flush against you again, “such a wet little girl.”

You were never going to last if he kept talking to you like that. Your pointless contest of who was harder or who was wetter ended with his display. He’d won, and that was fine with you. He was right anyway, you were soaking wet, slick coating your thighs and probably his too. You brought both hands to his cheeks and made him face you, lips pressing to yours while you both approached your climax.

“Are you gonna come for me? Make a mess all over your daddy’s couch?”

“Yes, oh fuck yes!” You kissed him deeper, feeding him your heavy groans while your orgasm overcame you.

You arched into him, feeling his mouth while he kissed through your pleasured cries. He huffed loudly while he came, holding you closely as his cock pulsated hot ropes into you. You felt like, when you were finished, your bodies let out an exhale of relief. All the emotions, feelings and physical desires pent up inside of you both were released with that one moment you shared. You’d come to an agreement, you were going to be together.

“Where do we go from here?” You asked, looking deep into Marc’s eyes while he grew soft inside of you.

He sighed heavily, “we’re going to have to find a way to tell your dad.”

No matter how tough things would be, you knew everything would work out now that you had Marc, and Marc had you.

Moon Knight DBF Masterlist

Moon Knight Masterlist

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[oddballwriter]

💳💥💳💥💳 THE SYSTEM WITH A METALHEAD I BEG OF YOU!! ( if comfy ofc )

Like short 5'2-5'3 reader who looks SCARY as shit and wears all black+tatted but is super cutesy until someone says the wrong shit and they get absolutely insane?

feel like steven would be like raging heart eyes

( maybe smutty maybe not either wayyy..)

- 🌑

Steven Grant

Steven was scared of you at first, that's for sure. The all black and scary look definitely worked on him

It wouldn't be until you approached him that he realized you weren't going to bite him

He finds the difference between the two of you funny, positively.

To me, he seems more like a listener of ABBA and The B-52, those kind of older songs that are more up beat. Something that some suburban dad definitely has on vinyl

I firmly believe that Steven fucking loves the B-52s for some reason, he just has those vibes

Softer type of music, you know? Definitely not metal

But he does enjoy that you're kind and really nice rather than acting the part of how you look

But the one time when you two were out and someone insulted you both and you proceeded to yell at them and cuss them out was a day that he thinks about a lot. You weren't even yelling at them for insulting you, you just tore them a new one because they insulted him

He felt something that day, and he's not saying that he wants you to yell at him, but if you bossed him around a little then he's going to do it with a tent in his pants

He's too embarrassed to admit that but it's defiantly something that's there and you'll catch on someday

Back to the actual topic though, Steven doesn't like metal but he supports you liking it since it makes you happy

Would attend a concert with you but he'd have ear plugs in so that the music doesn't hurt his ears or stress him out

Also, you will have to leave him in the back because he's not going in the mosh pit, he would not survive. I'm sorry but he's not built for that

Marc Spector

Okay, Marc doesn't really listen to metal, he's not an avid metal listener. But I'm sure he's listened to a few songs and knows the more mainstream bands

He thinks you're cool though. Similar to my HCs for them with a goth partner, he finds it fascinating how you don't care how people perceive you and just be yourself. You're happy and he uses that as inspiration to be himself too

Marc would listen to metal music with you if it comes up, maybe you expand his knowledge of the genre

Do I think he'd handle a mosh pit? No, I think it would stress him out too much. Too much is happening and it freaks him out. Loves seeing you having fun though so go mosh for him

Marc also respects the fact that you're still polite and not true to how people think you would be, but 100% if you tell someone off then he's all for it. You tell 'em!

Since I went on a whole side tangent on Steven's music tastes, it's only right I do it for Marc

Marc sort of shares the same taste as Steven where he listens to songs that were around when they were younger. He's a classics kind of guy. He likes it when he hears people from back then on the radio

This man refuses to leave the 80's and 90's music scene. You will have to pry it from him in the field of reeds

Jake Lockley

Jake is such a "I love all genres" guy, he listens to everything and finds something to like in it. Even country, yeah sure modern country sucks but older ones are the ones he talks about when e talks about country music

So yeah, Jake definitely likes metal and can get into it. So feel free to play it around him

He also thinks you're cool and loves your whole look. Buys a shirt to match

100% would love to see you tear someone a new one so long as they deserve it. This man is an enabler, he's in the back cheering you on

Also, if you ask him to go to a concert with you, he will say yes so fast

Jake would survive the mosh pit, he would thrive

It lets him let out some stuff that he's been holding back and energy that he can't really put anywhere else

Honestly Jake would be so clearly into your whole metalhead life. He thinks it's hot. He finds it sexy. There's something about the loud music and look that does something for him and he's not going to hide that

Honestly, yell at him in bed, it'll be good foreplay if you're down

[winniethewife]

You're always holding on to stars (Moon Knight system x Famous!F!reader)

Prompt: Stargazing.

Words: 736

They lay out in the field, her head on his chest as they gaze out on the stars in the sky. Marc and His childhood friend, his high School sweetheart, the one who will get away, He knows her asperations are what will separate them. She had just gotten signed to a big record company and was moving to New York. And he wasn’t coming. They had decided it was best to take a break, give her the room to grow in her industry, unattached. Neither of them really wanted to. They we’re both very in love, but Marc Knew she would do amazing things, with or without him.

“I used to think this all was ours” Marc mutters as they looks out on the stars. “You and me against the world. Forever.”

“Me too. I never thought I’d actually get signed. I figured it would be the two of us, open mic nights at the coffee house, normal lives…” She softly says as she cuddles in closer to him. He wraps an arm around her and squeezes her tight

“Don’t feel bad for following your dreams. I’ll always be there to support you.”

“I know, I just…I wish you were coming with me. I’m going to miss you.” She sighs.

“Cheer up butter cup. Its not forever, just until you get your feet on the ground right?” He takes her chin in his hand and looks into her eyes.

“Right…just a break…Not a break up.”

~

Two years have passed, they have stayed in pretty close contact, and when Marc and Steven started to live a more integrated life she had taken the time to come out to London to get to know him. She stayed with him for a visit. And Steven was absolutely enchanted with her. She was an amazing artist he was enamored from the moment they met. As they walked through Camden Market they were stopped a few times by excited fans. Steven watched and helped take pictures with a smile on his face.

“I’m sorry Steven I know you wanted to just have some time the two of us…” She smiles sheepishly at him.

“No! I’m not bothered at all! It’s nice how sweet you are to your fans! It’s quite…adorable” He chuckles and rubs the back of his neck as he looks at her. He was falling for her hard…he could understand what had Marc hooked to her.

As they days in London pass, She, Marc and Steven start to fall into a pattern, and tabloids start talking…And much too soon she has to leave again. As Steven gets to say his goodbye he holds her in his arms.

 “How is it that you're right here…why do I miss you so much?” Steven asks with tears in the corners of his eyes.

“Hey now don’t cry, we decided, I’ll be back, we’re going to make this work this time. I promise.” She reassures him while wiping the tears from his eyes. She smiles at him.

“I feel Like I’m Stargazing. Watchin’ your life from afar. You’re my star…Shining brighter than the rest.” Steven says sweetly as he presses his forehead against hers. She smiles then leans in to kiss him.

~

As the years pass eventually the fame and hype dies down, and Marc, Steven and her are able to live mostly normal lives, eventually, they also integrate their third alter Jake into their happy family. Jake take a little more time to warm up to her, but as the years pass, wedding anniversaries come and go, Jake is as much in love with her as the others. It was a beautiful evening as they sat on the balcony of their home looking out on the sky as the stars start to show.

“Estrella ... te ves tan hermosa en el crepúsculo…” Jake says to her with his voice low and pressing his body against hers as she leans on the railing. She chuckles and looks over her shoulder at him.

“You’re too cheesy.” She teases.

“What? Sólo digo la verdad, cariño. You know this.” He says in a mock offended tone as he pulls her closer, turning her to face him. “I close my eyes and think about tomorrow and All I see is us…stargazing…” He looks into her eyes, gazing into them he smiles. The stars in the sky will never compare to those in her eyes.

Translations:

Estrella ... te ves tan hermosa en el crepúsculo : Star...you look so beautiful in the twilight

Sólo digo la verdad, cariño.: I only speak the truth my darling.

Bingo Masterlist

Tag: @moonknight-events @juneknight @spacecowboyhotch

[starsarekind]

Marc Spector was not particularly skilled in the kitchen.

In the months he'd been without Layla, he'd grown accustomed to greasy gas station snacks — devoid of most proteins but enough to satisfy an empty stomach on a job for a moon god.

When Marc wasn't on a mission, Steven took care of himself. Jake, who they'd learned about more recently and whom he was still getting used to, deemed himself the chef of the system, which was more or less accurate and incredibly infuriating.

Marc had a recipe pulled up for fried rice, and only about half of the ingredients he needed. If Layla wasn't at the kitchen table, he'd give up and order something in. Maybe he wouldn't eat at all. But no, Marc was trying to ease back into mundane married life, and he had a lot of slack to pull and a lot of shit to make up for. He could make Layla some damned fried rice for dinner.

Layla played quiet music from her laptop. Realistically, she was not looking at the screen. Her eyes were focused on Marc — the familiar tensing of his jaw, the way he held his shoulders, the crease between his brow as he concentrated on the stove. She soaked in all of the things that made him her husband. On one hand, it relaxed her to see. On the other, more selfish hand, Layla wanted to be as equipped as possible in recognizing when a switch happened.

Even now, after slow weeks of getting accustomed to their new life after defeating Ammit, the flat was demonstrably Steven's. The floors were still littered with stacks of books that had no places on shelves. Books on Egypt and egyptian mythology and hieroglyphs were left open to certain pages on every desk and table, no matter how often Steven tidied up. Mug stains from old tea dotted every wooden surface in an almost admirable way.

There were small signs that Marc lived here, too. The bed was made in a rigid and practical way, with no margin for error. A wedding photo of him and Layla now hung by the bed. But otherwise? This space had not been meant for Marc.

Zoning back in, Layla saw Marc murmuring under his breath, getting frustrated. Layla could practically see the steam coming from his ears. She moved to his side in a second, assessing the situation and scanning the recipe.

"Oh, baby, you'd better--"

"I don't need all these comments from everyone." Marc replied, before Layla could even finish her sentence.

It startled her for a moment. Not the tone, or the defensiveness, but the language — the word: everyone. The air felt thick when she realized she was not the only other person in the room.

"Is it Jake?" She asked, softly but without room for avoidance.

Marc's jaw tensed again. He didn't meet Layla's eyes, but he nodded. "He won't cook, but he'll make fun of me for doing it wrong."

His head tilted to the side, and Layla recognized a conversation she was not privy to. As Marc was distracted, Layla was careful to nudge him away from the stove. She wasn't the greatest cook either, but she was better than Marc, especially when he was starting to dissociate.

Layla was still working on getting used to the blank look in Marc's eyes as he looked past her, never sure if he was pulling back into his own head, or if he'd be right back. She busied herself with the recipe.

The flat fell into comfortable silence, save for the faint music from the laptop on the table, and the sizzle of the pan, as Layla finished cooking dinner.

"Cheers, love," Steven smiled over to her, blinking a bit to gain his bearings. "Oh! You made dinner, yeah? Lovely. I'll set the table."

She noted, quietly, the way Steven stood with his shoulders slightly hunched, like standing up straight would make him too much of a focal point. His eyes were wider, too, and somehow the creases that always made Marc look so tired seemed to subside.

Layla's heart ached. She didn't mind the intrusion, knowing that if Marc's gone away, it was for good reason. And, in fact, she was quite fond of Steven, and even warming up to Jake.

This did not change the fact that sometimes she wanted to eat dinner with her husband, and that sometimes it was difficult to see his face and know it did not belong to him.

Despite this, she smiled.

"Thanks, Steven."

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

Baby names

This has been sitting in my drafts forever and I finally decided to finish it. It’s short but I love it

Summary: you and the moon knight boys try to think of names for your baby

Parings: Steven x reader, Marc x reader, Jake x reader

“How about Baset?” Steven proposed, looking over at you from the rim of his glasses. You lowered your book of baby names, resting in on your growing bump, an eyebrow raising. Steven took this as a opportunity to move from his place at his desk, books in hand as he made his way over to the bed where you were sitting.

He took a moment to look upon the books he had brought, trying to think which would help his case the most. He settled on a children’s book that he had bought from the gift shop as a while back, at the time he had said it was never too early to teach your baby about ancient egypt.

He opened a children’s book of Egyptian gods flipping to the page with the goddess Baset, showing you the colored image. He held it for you, looking over the top as he spoke again. “See she’s the goddess of beauty and the protector of evil. Lovely ain’t it.” He mused, his hand coming to rub affectionately over your belly. “Cause I know our little bugger here is going to be as pretty as her mother.” You smiled as his praise before rolling your eyes, knowing that behind his sentimental compliments he was trying to convince you to name your baby after an Egyptian god yet again.

“Steven.” You chided laying your hand over his.

“Yea?” He asked, a hopeful tone in his voice.

“We’re not naming our daughter after an Egyptian goddess.”

“What if it’s a boy? Cause I think Horus is quite fitting.”

You shook your head laughing. “Steven no.” He gave you a pout as he crawled between your legs, gently resting his weight on your belly as he ran his hands up and down your sides. His lips were pursed, all huffy from your denial at his suggestion for your guys baby’s name.

He tried again, looking up at you through his eyelashes. A look that always made your heart melt. “What about for a middle name.” He mumbled against your exposed skin, eyes wide and pleading. You rolled your eyes, hand coming up to trace the contours of his face.

“I’ll think about it.” He gave your a victorious smile as he pressed a kiss to your belly, eyes fluttering closed as Marc took over.

“Hey baby.” He mused, crawling up to kiss you, his hot breath tickling your skin. “I missed you.”

You hummed, looping your arms around his neck. “I missed you too.” You let him roll you into your side so you with your back to his chest, his arms coming to cup your belly.

“You’re not really going to let out baby have a name associated with an Egyptian god are you?” He grumbled, head laying in the crook of your neck.

“I don’t know. I think it could be cute.” You mused, thinking of how happy it would make Steven. “Besides I haven’t been able to think of anything better, I’m too tired.” You yawned, closing your eyes for a moment. “Do you have any ideas honey?”

Marc thought for a moment, hands coming to softly caress your baby bump. “As long as our baby’s healthy I’m okay with whatever you want. Whatever makes you happy makes me happy.” You smiled at his sentiment and laid your hands over his. You laid that that for a while just enjoying the moment before Jake finally made an appearance.

“Mi amor.” He cooed, nestling his face into you as he pressed a kiss to the top of your shoulder. “Amalia, for a girl.” He said continuing to kiss your neck and lovingly rubbing your belly. “Benito for a boy.” You smiled to yourself, lifting his hand up to kiss the back of his hand.

“I like Benito.” You turned in his arms and he gave you a rare smile. “Benito Horus.” You joked, earning a snort from Jake as he rolled his eyes. “It’s cute.” You smiled up at him and he could hear Steven in his head giving a cheer. But you knew most likely Jake and Marco would use their veto on Horus

[youlikefanficdontyousquidward]

Neighbourly

First

Part 2

Prev

Summary: Whilst hiding from your ex in a new city you meet your rather strange neighbour. Now with a strange artifact bound to you, you must rely on his help as well as his flat mates?

Steven Grant x Reader, Marc Spector x Reader, eventual Jake Lockely too

Tag list: @blackholegladiator

Translations: Tonto del culo - Dumbass

The angry red mark stared back at you. The stinging pain returning as your glassy eyes met Steven's again. Concern was etched across his face, an internal conflict passing in subtle pulls of his brow.

He looked strange, taller somehow and dressed in an odd white costume. Wrapping bands around a golden shape on his chest. Strangest of all was the cape and for a moment you wondered if he was a performer.

"Idiots." A booming voice sounded. You spun from Steven's grip to the source of the voice. Squatting in your living room was another horror. Giant frame hunkered to fit in the space and wrapped in flowing bandages. Worst was the meters long bird skull that spun to face you.

You screamed.

Steven's gloved hand clamped over your mouth, his other holding you behind your neck as he shushed you. You struggled in his grip, tears flowing freely as your wide eyes quickly moved from the thing in your living room to him.

"It's okay, your okay. Let's just calm down. Okay? Deep breathes." He spoke quietly though there was a tinge of panic in his voice. Only it wasn't his voice though. His accent was gone, replaced by that American twang you'd heard once before. You nodded gently, mirroring his breaths as his grip left your head.

"There you go..." He smiled before the frying pan you'd grabbed made contact with his temple. Steven caught himself on your counter as you darted towards the door. You stumbled, falling back as the bird skull stomped into your path. Scrambling back you scuttled into your living room.

"Y/n! Please, please just calm down a second!" Steven called as he approached again. Panic was still flooding your system and you hurled a book from your coffee table at him. He dodged, pinching his nose as the bird creature seemed to laugh at him.

"Steven could you..." He began. You watched with another book in your grip as he shook. Suddenly without anything concrete changing you were looking at Steven again. Your neighbours soft eyes, concern more exaggerated in his expression. Posture shifting inwards as his hands raised in surrender.

"Cheers mate. Hey Y/n!" He whispered softly, accent returned.

You froze as he moved, almost stumbling over your cat as she strode past. Your eyes darted to the monster still hunched in front of your door before snapping back to Steven approaching.

"Your alright yeah?" He almost cooed, his hands hovering in the space between you two. "Just a lot ain't it?"

You kept staring wide eyed between him and the giant bird skeleton. Some how believing if you just stayed quiet and still that they'd evaporate and you'd wake up. Both remained firm in your space as your cat let out a friendly meow. The skull head shifted and nodded down at the cat before she wandered back towards you.

"See? Ol' Khonshu ain't nothing to be afraid of. Come on let's sit a moment." Steven continued. He moved slowly into the space as your cat brushed against your legs.

"There isn't time for this worm!" Khonshu boomed causing you to flinch again.

"Oh piss off you!" Steven barked shooting him a scowl as he took a seat on your sofa. You lowered yourself slowly into the arm chair opposite. Eyes still glued to the floating head above Khonshu's shoulders. He grumbled but in a second the space he'd been in was empty.

It took a while for Steven to calm you down and when his suit dissolved away he set you off again. His eyes kept casting down to the glass table between you both. He'd scrunch or tut before his eyes found there way back to you.

"What are you looking at?" You asked.

"Hmm? Oh it's... oh this is going to sound quiet strange..." He fumbled.

"You did that before, at my work and again in your flat." You pressed.

"It's...well Marc's there." He said.

"Marc's in my coffee table?" You asked.

"Well yeah but hmm maybe Marc's better at explaining these things..." Steven mumbled before his back straightened.

"We share this body, we're the avatar of Khonshu." The second Steven, Marc said. He shifted his eyes a second, shoulders slouching again. "Bloody hell! Don't sugar coat it!" Steven cursed.

"Khonshu, the big dead bird?" You ask, mind feeling a little numb by this point.

"God I hope he heard that!" He laughed before Marc seemed to take his place again. "Yeah, look it's not safe to stay here. You've bound yourself so we're gonna have to move the timeline up a lot."

"Wait bound!?" You squeaked. The wound still itched on your palm and you stared down at the eye.

"I'm sorry Y/n but your involved now. That mark binds you to Wadjet, protector of Ra, if we don't get you to... What are you doing?" Marc paused his speech. You rose, walking past the sofa towards your bed.

"This is a horrible nightmare, I'm going to go wake up now." You mumbled more to yourself than either of them.

"Y/n wait! We don't have time for..." Marc's voice faded behind you and a strong grip took your arm. You spun tugging your arm but it remained in his bruising grip.

His face was sterner than before, bordering on a scowl as he tugged you along with him. You tried to protest but he seemed to be pointedly ignoring you now. So you opened your mouth to scream.

He surged against you, hand firm over your mouth and behind your head again. Though it was more painful than before and he had furious look to him now as he hovered an inch from your face. This wasn't Steven or Marc.

"Tonto del culo, they are trying to help you! So just shut up and move!" He snapped at you. He was American like Marc but it sounded different. You were about to dig your heels in when his head snapped to your window.

You heard it too, several cars pulling up outside. Your window was ajar and you could hear people getting out and moving towards the building. Something about that terrified you and you met this other Steven's eyes.

He understood you weren't going to scream now and let you go. Well his hand left your mouth. His other hand was still firm on the back of your neck and he used that to push you with him. You were directed towards your front door when you started to object.

"Wait my cat!" You whined but he was cursing and shoving you.

"They don't care about your stupid cat." He bit and you relented to his shove. At least he closed your door behind him though before he ushered you down the hall. He didn't turn back into Steven's flat though, instead pushing you aside a moment.

In front of one of the vacant flats he paused, flipping up the door mat and revealing a single key. He entered the flat, before turning back and grabbing you. He pulled you in when you heard the lift move, they were coming.

He locked the door before grumbling across the room. You took a second to look around the space. It was bare, no hint at a person lived here bar a bag he grabbed from the living room.

He turned a hard stare back across the room at you making you jump. You rushed over to him facing the door when you heard the loud ping of the lift in the hall. You spun back to him when you felt something land on your shoulders.

He'd placed a long coat over your shoulders and was now opening the window. You shoved your arms through as you suddenly remembered you were still only in your pjs.

"Bueno, paths clear." He said as he pulled his head back into the flat. He scowled at you again before he continued. "When we get outside, you are silent. You follow me and stay close." He commanded.

Behind you heard a smash, the door to Steven's coming off its hinges, and you jumped. The firm grip on the back of your neck returned and he was pushing you through the window. You didn't protest, taking his direction and climbing out and down the fire escape.

Once you'd passed low enough Jake followed out above you. Your slippers weren't exactly the kind of shoe you'd have chosen to climb down the ladder in. They were slipping against the metal and it made you cringe.

Another scowl was aimed down at you but there wasn't much you could do about that. You turned you attention to the ground coming closer bellow. Ignoring the way you could feel his glare burning holes in your head. You really missed Steven right now. Hell you'd take Marc.

You manged to reach the bottom, the other man sharing their body jumping down next to you. You paused there a moment waiting for his next move. This move was taking a flat cap out the bag and slipping it on over his curls. Then he took your hand in his.

You moved to pull from his touch but his grip was firm and his cold eyes made you still. You let him keep your hand, shuffling after his long strides around the building and trying to keep your breathing from rising.

The cars were in sight now. 3 big dark windowed vans. There was a man stood by the doors the to your building now too. He was trying very hard to look causal but his constant vigilance gave him away. You turned your eyes from him when he glanced to you but you could see him straightening up in your peripheral.

"Keep pace. The taxi on the corner is mine. Just a couple more feet." Scowling Steven whispered. You nodded but you heard the man shout across the street at you. He was jogging over when your companion broke from you. You staggered back on the pavement as his fist connected with the man's nose.

"TAXI NOW!" He yelled as the first gun shot rang out. You were barely moving when his body was against you, pulling you close. Shielding you as he returned fire and ran.

You stumbled with him, letting him shove you into the car when he got there. You ducked low in your seat as he rounded to the drivers side. Turning back to the building you watched armed men rush out.

You screamed when the automatic weapons turned on the car. Your companion now swearing vividly as he started the car.

"If you didn't mean so much to..." He grumbled before shoving the gun at you. You shrieked fumbling as he held it against your chest. "Point and shoot." He commanded as the window by you lowered.

"What!?" You shrieked. He let out a volley of curses as he sped off. One hand steering he grabbed your hands on the gun pulling you to point the gun out the window.

"Point." He said, spinning the wheel with his other. Ahead a van raced towards you but the taxi drifted from its path. Zipping down another street you were now pushed half out the window. His hand gripping you by the coat as you leaned out. Another van was closing in behind you, a man leaning out its window.

"And Shoot!" Your companion called and you fired. The kickback was worse than you'd anticipated in the seconds you had. Still you held firm, both hands gripping the gun to you as you recovered.

There was a bullet hole in the van behind you now. On the front wind shield, drivers side. You heard a cheer from your right as the van swerved and crashed against some parked cars. Scowling Steven pulled you back firmly into your seat but he was grinning wildly now.

He gripped your shoulder, jostling you before he took the gun from your white knuckled grip. He put it in his lap before leaning across you and tugging the belt down past your hyperventilating face.

"Seat belts."

[nowritingonthewall]

Thank you again, @potcpoi for making my day and for loving Marc 🥰

No, but imagine… imagine one day Steven decided that he needs to find something to cheer Marc up. And because there aren’t a lot of things that Steven enjoys more than working himself through half of the ice cream menu at his favourite ice cream parlour whenever Steven needs cheering up himself, that’s exactly where he takes them.

But then he offers Marc to let him front and Marc his endlessly confused because the ice cream parlour that Steven took him to doesn’t seem to have any vegan options? So what the hell is he supposed to order for them?

And then Steven explains that this wasn’t for him but for Marc and there are so many more options available for him here, so that Marc could order all of his favourite flavours. It’s just that Marc has no idea what kind of ice cream he actually likes? Because nobody ever asked him or even cared what his favourite ice cream flavour was. But he remembers that RoRo used to love strawberry and chocolate, so that is what he ends up getting for them. And he doesn’t even know whether he actually likes it, but it tastes like summer and innocent adventures and RoRo snuggling up to his beloved older brother and a time when his mother would only hate him a little bit. He doesn’t even notice how his silent tears start to flow until the other customers start to stare and he dashes out of there and back to their flat.

This is the opposite of what Steven tried to achieve, of course, and he can’t stop apologizing to Marc and Marc is sorry because he feels like he let Steven down, so Jake has to step in and calm both of them down until they end up in a long self hug.

And then Jake introduces them to Gina. Who doesn’t only sell coffee and the best damn pancakes in the universe but who also offers a small selection of different types of ice cream. And every time Jake takes them there, Marc gets to try a few of them.

And then Gina starts to greet him with a hug, just like she would do with Jake. And Marc doesn’t even know how to react at first. But as time goes on, he finds that he keeps coming back for the hugs. The hugs become longer. The hugs become warmer. There are hugs to say hello and there are hugs to say goodbye and there are hugs in between when Gina feels like Marc needs some extra comfort today.

And then Marc decides that he is no longer allowed to go there because he obviously doesn’t deserve those hugs and he feels like he was stealing them from Jake. So he withdraws himself again.

Jake keeps telling Marc how he doesn’t mind sharing at all and how Gina misses him but he is convinced that Jake is just trying to be nice. So Steven and Jake give Marc a gentle push to the front when they visit Gina the next time. And Gina tells him how much she missed him and pulls him into the longest hug they’ve ever shared. Marc doesn’t know how to handle all the confusing emotions bubbling to the surface but Gina doesn’t mind.

She just prepares several scoops of his favourite ice cream flavours for him. And then she hugs him again. And suddenly Marc dares to believe that maybe, just maybe, he has found a safe place that he can always return to whenever he needs a hug 🥺

[rose-pearls]

The Summer I Turned Pretty

Here is part two, hopefully you will like it!!

I thought it would maybe be easier to say which character is which so here you have a list:

Belly: reader, Conrad: Jake, Jeremiah: Bradley, Steven: Javy, Cameron: Bob, Susannah: Iceman, Laurel: Slider

Series Taglist: @djs8891, @devrill (open)

Previous part

The night had been short, with your father telling you just how disappointed he was for leaving behind his back and Ice telling him to calm down but eventually you did made it into your bed. 

You woke up in a hurry, rushing to get downstairs and find your things, by some miracle everyone was out, and you managed to leave the house quickly. Bob had talked about going on a sailboat with him to go see the whales, the blond boy had proposed it last night and you hadn’t stopped dreaming about it. 

But just as you arrived the boat left the shore, and the only thing you could do was watch it leave towards the ocean, silently cursing yourself for forgetting an alarm.

Today was going to be a horrible day, you could feel it.

--

The house is more active as you arrive, Jake sitting at the table with a bruise around his eyes. His green eyes look tired, and you want to ask him how he is, but Ice comes in before you are able to.

“Guess what is happening later today?”, he seems cheerful, which brings a smile to your lips, he had always been a sweetheart, filled with love.

“What?”, you can’t help but ask, wondering whatever could have gotten your uncle’s attention.

“The debutant ball.”, you hear Maverick and your father groan behind him but Ice simply rolls his eyes and ignores them.

“Would you like to participate?”, the question is unexpected, of course you had heard of it, but you never thought of participating in it yourself.

“Common Ice she is not going to participate in something like that.”, your father says, and you can’t help but look at him slightly offended.

“Why not?”, Ice seems to be thinking the same thing as he looks at his best friend with raised eyebrows, expecting an answer.

“It doesn’t seem like the type of thing you would like to do.”, he says simply, and you take a moment to think it through. The deb ball seemed like something nice, large white dresses spinning around on the dance floor, but it would take a lot of your time. 

“Why don’t you go to the afternoon tea this afternoon to meet the others and think it through after that? We could go shopping and buy you an outfit or two.”, Ice says, excitement appearing at his words, and you can’t help but smile.

“I’ll do it.”, you say, feeling confident for the first time in a long time. You try to ignore the green eyes looking at you in surprise and only focusing on an eager Ice taking you in his arms.

“You will love this! Sarah loved it when she did it!”, there is a sad smile on his lips as he talks about his sister, but he quickly shakes his head before telling you to get ready. 

“I don’t understand why you want her to do that Ice.”, you hear your father say as you leave the room.

“I just want to see our girl in a white dress, at least once.”, there is something behind the words, some underlying meaning that you can’t seem to grasp, a sadness that coats the words. 

The only person you can see is Maverick and he has a hard look on his face, his eyes seem saddened before a small cheerful smile appears and he stirs the conversation to another one. 

--

The shop is big, tons of colours everywhere and you can’t help but snort at some of the options your godfather shows you. Your father is more on the side, looking unsure, until Ice manages to make him laugh with a large hat on his head. 

They quickly shoo you into the changing room and time flies by as you try out the different outfits, some of them making the three of you laugh until you can’t breathe and others getting the approval of even your father. 

You haven’t seen him so relaxed as right now, a constant smile on his face as Ice teases him about something during their college years. He always seemed lighter when he came here and was around his best friend. 

“Alright, this is the last one.”, you tell them as you put on a white dress. 

The both of them are quiet as you come out, their mouth slightly open at the sight of you and you suddenly feel nervous.

“You look so beautiful.”, Ice whispers before getting up and bringing you into his arms.

“Thank you.”, you whisper, holding him tightly.

“It looks stunning on you.”, your father says, suddenly looking emotional and you take him into your arms, holding him tight. 

“Thanks dad.”, you don’t know what you would do without the two of them, and Maverick, and you hoped that you would never have to know.

--

“Do not worry, everyone is nice in there, just be yourself.”, Ice says as he drops you off and you try to look confident as you leave the car.

“If there is any issue you call me and I’ll come and get you.”, your father says, looking as nervous as you but you shake your head.

“Don’t worry I will be back later.”, you promise them before entering the country club.

“Didn’t know you would be here!”, you suddenly hear behind you, and you turn around to find Bradley.

“Brad, hey! It was last minute, but I am supposed to meet the other girls for the deb ball.”, you tell him, starting to feel nervous at the thought of what was awaiting you there.

“You look stunning.”, he seems to be slightly in shock, as he looks at you and you can’t stop the blush from appearing on your cheeks.

“Thank you.”, the words seem to make Bradley function again and he throws you a dazzling smile.

“Why don’t I escort you to the room?”, you giggle as you take his arm and follow him through the many hallways of the club.

“And here we are. This is where I leave you.”, there is a silence around the room as Bradley wishes you good luck and you try not to stumble as you walk into the room.

Everyone seems to know each other as you enter the room, luckily there is a space left at a table and you sit down, looking at all the girls around the table.

“I’m Shayla, welcome.”, the girl has a sweet smile, and seems kind enough as you introduce yourself.

“I’m Nicole.”, you recognize the girl from somewhere, but you aren’t able to pinpoint just where.

The girls talk for a moment before you let out a sigh as you look around, it was a bit more boring than you thought it would be.

“Finding it a bit boring?”, Halo asks you and you can’t help the blush of embarrassment that appears.

“Sorry, this isn’t usually what I do.”, you tell them, and they all smile at you reassuringly.

“Not to worry, these things do get quite boring, but we have a remedy for that.”, Shayla tells you as Halo brings a little bottle out of her handbag. 

“How do you think that we survive these kinds of things?”, she asks you teasingly and you can’t help but laugh in answer as they pass the bottle.

“So, how are things with Jake?”, the name throws you off as you hear Nicole start to talk about what happened last night at the bonfire. So, this was the girl that Jake had been with, the only thing you could do to forget the hurt that was swelling up was drink a bit of the tea, forgetting for a moment that there was some strong alcohol in it.

The etiquette lesson is boring, even more boring than math class and for a moment you think that nothing exciting will happen until you see a flash of blond hair. Bob.  You quickly excuse yourself, rushing to get to Bob in time to talk to him.

“Bob!”, the blond boy turns around to find you there, a wide smile appears on his lips.

“Hey, didn’t expect you to be here.”, he says, and you can’t help but smile awkwardly.

“I am really sorry about this morning, I woke up late and by the time I was there the boat had already left.”, you try to explain and Bob smiles kindly.

“Don’t worry I completely understand. It was a bit short notice, but if you want, we could always go see a movie?”, the proposition brings a wide smile on your lips as you nod quickly.

“I would love that!”, you tell him, and Bob seems to relax at your words.

“I’ll text you the details then.”, he tells you and you quickly nod in agreement.

“By the way, you look absolutely beautiful.”, the words make you feel warm on the inside as you quickly thank him, feeling giddy at the thought of your first date.

--

The drive through is quite full as you arrive there with Bob, but you can only think of how nervous you are currently feeling. He had been an absolute gentleman, getting you something to drink and to eat before asking about how your day went. 

The movie started and as it went on you felt Bob’s hand next to yours, you slowly tried to move your hand towards his and after a moment feel his hand taking yours in his. The moment feels surreal, like it’s part of a movie but as you look at the blond boy and feel his soft skin against yours you know that it is real. 

The moment was perfect. 

Until the car next to yours ruins it. Bradley, Jake and Javy suddenly appear in your vision, the boys looking at you with smirks on their faces.

“Isn’t that your brother?”, Bob asks after a moment, and you can’t help but huff in response.

“Just ignore them, they’re idiots.”

You do try to ignore them, not listen to their overly loud commentary and little remarks but you can see that Bob doesn’t seem as relaxed either before they came. 

“I’ll be back.”, you quickly tell the blond boy before getting out of the car ignoring the three other boys starting to act like they are scared.

“Leave.”, you tell them quickly as they open the window.

“Can’t do, we are watching a movie, and we want to know how it ends.”, Javy says with that stupid smirk that he always has when he is with his friends, like he thinks that he somewhat better than you.

“You aren’t watching it, you are just ruining my date.”, Jake seems to look sour as the word ‘date’ leaves your mouth, but you ignore it. 

“Common we are just teasing you.”, Bradley says, trying to be the peacekeeper but you just feel pissed off.

“I don’t care, go away.”, Javy tries to say something, but you quickly cut him off.

“Either you leave, or I tell everyone about your secret Harry Potter fanfiction collection.”, this seems to put your brother back into the right mindset as he tells the others to leave. 

Jake is looking at you with his stormy green eyes and for a moment you wonder what is going inside of his head before the car leaves.

“I’m so sorry about that.”, you tell Bob as you enter the car, and he simply smiles softly.

“Don’t worry it’s not your fault.”, he tells you and somehow the both of you got closer to each other than before, you can see his baby blue eyes from up-close and you feel like you are somehow being pulled towards him.

There are only a few inches between the both of you when Bob asks you softly if it’s okay to kiss you and you simply close the distance between the both of you. His lips are soft, and his hand has taken yours into his again and you can’t stop yourself from feeling warm on the inside.

This was perfect. 

--

The house is quiet when you enter it, feeling giddy from the perfect romantic kiss, and the promise of another date. Your stomach rumbles and you start to wonder if there could be something left to eat in the kitchen but as you enter it there is only Jake.

“So, how was the date?”, he asks, a sarcastic undertone that makes your skin crawl.

“It went well, not thanks to you guys though.”, you can’t help but say, still feeling frustrated at the three boys.

“Oh, common we were just joking, you can’t take a joke.”, he spats, and you can’t help but stumble back a bit.

“Oh, come off of it Jake, why were you there? I think that they are far more fun things to do on a Friday night then go and ruin someone’s date.”, the boy shakes his head before starting to leave.

“Were you jealous, is that it? That someone finally pays attention to me?”, Jake seems to get even more tense at your words before his green eyes turn stormy once again.

“Why don’t you go look at yourself in the mirror some more, it seems like it’s the only thing you can do these days.”, the words feel like a slap in the face as he leaves the kitchen, leaving you behind feeling like you are losing everything without knowing why.

The only thing you knew is that this wasn’t the boy you had fell for all these years ago.

-

Top Gun Taglist: @bisexual-watermelons (open)

Main Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open for every fandom)

[whatthefishh]

omg first of all CONGRATS ON 500 BABES OMG

Second, I want Jake with ALL SIXTEEN of the sinful sentences, but I'll take this one:

“Please, mark me.”

If you want to :) Idk why, but I need some Jake. If you wanna toss the other two in there as well feel free but no obligation.

(also if you felt like doing a playlist or moodboard for A Bit Dodgy I wouldn't stop you but no pressure because one thing is already so much I love you and congrats you hoe)

I LOVE YOU. Have some Steven.

Okay 500 words of jake smut under the cut lmfaoo, love you THANK YOU ❤️

Your nails were digging into his back on every hard thrust, your leg draped over his shoulder. He was starting to huff a little heavier, grunt a little deeper and thrust a little sloppier.

Jake had already made you come once on his fingers, and the way he was grinding into your clit on every push his hips had the next wave already threatening to pull you under. He had come to you a little worse for wear, and on some days he wanted to let out his tension on you, while on others… Well. He wanted you to make a mess of him.

You started with pushing him down on the bed and all but ripping his pants off of him until your mouth found him, sucking him off until he was fisting the sheets and begging you to stop before he came. Quickly flipping you under him, he slid into you ridiculously easy, not surprised in the slightest at how wet you were from just having your tongue on his cock.

Fast forward to now, the air being punched out of your lungs from the heavy slams of his hips and his noises getting louder with every second. Mustering up the energy to encourage him, to really push him over the edge as you knew he needed, you spoke up.

“Come on, Jake, you can fuck me harder. So pretty when you let go for me like this.”

You didn’t sound in control in the slightest, especially with the way he was gripping your hips only to ram his own into them on every pass. His eyes were focused on where you were joined, on where you were soaking the sheets. Your arms trailed down to his pecs, scratching his nipples and making him hiss.

“Please,” he growled at you. You didn’t know what he was asking for. “Please… touch me. Mark me.”

It was said so lowly you almost didn’t register it over the slap, slap, slap of his hips into yours. But his eyes flashed to yours for one desperate moment, you lost the ability to breathe and you know that’s why he said it again.

“Mark me.”

Wordlessly moving forward to latch onto his chest, you obediently sucked a mark into his skin, laving it with your tongue drunkenly. Licking the sweat off his neck you moved your mouth to leave another mark on his collar bone, on the junction between his neck and shoulder, and right under the skin beneath his ear.

You think you know why he asks, but you don’t ask to confirm. He wants reminders of you, when he’s not home and when he’s not in control. The others waking up with no clue as to how they got their love bites and hickies but he knew. He could see from where he was in the headspace and felt some sense of reassurance in knowing he didn’t just make you up.

That you loved him, cared for him. That you were real.

That he was real.

The pressure was at an all time high and after one more grinding thrust on your clit, you came all of a sudden, his groans of pleasure almost drowning out your release. Not like it stopped him from fucking you, though.

“I’m here, Jake, come on. Come, please.”

And he did, he grunted his last few thrusts loudly and sporadically and came so hard his vision blacked out for a second with his head thrown back.

Pulling out and dropping on the bed next to you, cheers heaving as you caught your breath. Your hands found their way to each other and loosely intertwined even as your dumb stare was on the ceiling.

“What if they-“

“They won’t. It’s fine.”

“I just worry sometimes,” you tried again.

“I know, bebita,” he was rubbing his thumb on your hand now. “I know.”

Idk if that makes any sense but I hope you guys understand also Ty for reading love you all

[flightlessangelwings]

Coffee Chats and Heroic Rescues

Steven Grant x gn!neighbor!reader (no use of y/n)

Word count- 1.7k

Warnings- fluff, minor violence, allusion to past assault/abuse but nothing explicit, protective!Steven, mutual pining, hinted appearance of Marc and Jake

Notes- Part of the Neighbor Steven Grant series but I wrote it to stand on its own too. I was really exciting to write this one, and it addresses some of the things I hinted at in earlier parts! Enjoy!

Reblogs/follows/asks highly appreciated!

@flightlessangelwings-updates​ is my update blog to stay up to date on when I post, follow that too and turn on post notifs

~

“Hey Steven!” your cheerful voice broke him out of his thoughts as he made his way through the hallway.

He was tired; it had been another long day at the museum. And while Steven loved working there, large tour groups were always draining. His feet ached and his stomach growled from having been behind the counter of the gift shop his entire shift with no break. He was sure he looked a mess and he felt the bags under his eyes weigh heavily on his face. But when Steven looked up and saw your smiling face, everything melted away.

“Hey neighbor!” he waved back at you.

Steven loved when your paths crossed, and living right next door meant it happened a lot. The day you moved in brought a welcome and unexpected light into his life. And though you lived in separate places, Steven felt a comfort at hearing you rustle around on the other side of the wall, as if you two were roommates. 

And you… Well Steven was the most handsome man you had ever seen. And his kindness made your heart flutter in your chest. You had the feeling he had his own inner battles that he fought, but then again so did you. It was a subject neither of you brought up, though, and you were just happy to have a friend closeby.

“You look exhausted, Steven,” you closed the gap between your bodies as you rested a hand on his face. You took in a deep breath as you felt him tense under your hand, “Would…” you cleared your throat as you buried your nerves, “Would you like to come in for a coffee?”

Steven was sure he was dreaming as you looked at him with those beautiful eyes of yours. His skin warmed under your touch and he fought to keep his composure. He stuttered for a moment as he tried to form his words clearly, “I-I’d love to,” Steven’s face relaxed into a soft smile as you did the same.

“Great,” you breathed as you dropped your hand and gave his bicep a squeeze before you broke away, “Come inside!” you gestured to your door a few feet away, “It’s much neater than last time you saw it,” you chuckled nervously. 

The last time Steven saw your place was the day you moved in weeks ago. Boxes laid out everywhere, but he didn’t judge; moving was hard. He didn’t hesitate to rush over and help you as you struggled with a box that was too big for you and there was an instant connection there. Since then, the two of you chatted in the hallway in passing as you came and left from your places. But Steven always longed for more.

And so did you…

From that day, a new routine started. At least twice a week, you would invite Steven over to your place and have coffee or tea and just talk. There was a pull there that Steven felt, as if the two of you were meant to meet. And talking to you was a comfort unlike anything else. Your bright smile lit up the room and made his heart pound in his chest. Yet, Steven couldn’t help but notice a sadness behind your eyes at times too. As if you reached out to him because you needed his company just as much as he craved yours. 

And then came the day where it all came to a head and all of Steven’s intuitions rang true.

It was later than usual as Steven made his way into the elevator and up to his floor. He had texted you and let you know he would be late for coffee night, profusely apologetic as the museum stayed open later for a special event. When you didn’t reply, alarm bells rang in his head, and he rushed out as soon as he could. He had texted you again when he was on the bus home, but again you didn’t reply.

Shouts from down the hall echoed from the moment the elevator doors opened and immediately Steven’s heart sank. Even in the dim light of the hallway, he saw the outline of a large, burly man with his hand wrapped around your wrist. You had a pained expression on your face as you struggled to break free and you slapped him as hard as you could with your other hand, but it was no use.

Without a second thought, Steven bolted down the hallway and shouted in what he hoped was an intimidating voice, “Hey! Back off, wanker!”

You darted your eyes over to him and Steven couldn’t help but exhale deeply when you looked relieved to see him. “Steven…” you breathed.

“This doesn’t concern you, dickwad,” the man spat before he turned his attention back to you.

“Let go of me,” you tugged at your arm again.

“Actually, I believe it does,” Steven mustered all his courage and tried to pry you out of the man’s grip, “This is my neighbor, and I will not stand this treatment at all!”

“Steven…” a small tear formed in your eye at how he stood up for you.

Tensions ran high and rage boiled in Steven’s blood until he couldn’t think straight and suddenly he blacked out.

When he came to again, you and Steven were in his flat, two mugs of tea in his hands. You sat at his counter with your face buried in your hands. He inhaled sharply, not remembering how you got there or what happened, but he collected himself and told himself it didn’t matter for now. What mattered was that you were safe. You must have felt him staring at you because you lifted your head and met his gaze, and Steven hated to see you like this with red eyes and tears down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry you got involved,” you sighed as you wiped away your tears. 

“Don’t be,” his voice was filled with compassion as he set a hot mug of tea down, “Here.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled as you wrapped your hands around the mug, embracing the warmth. You sighed as you looked up into Steven’s eyes, “Thank you.” His presence truly was a comfort, to know that you weren’t alone and there was someone good out there who would help you. And you felt safe with him, you trusted him. 

Steven sat down and pulled his chair next to you, “It’s nothing. Just… Helping my neighbor.”

You gave him a sad look before you felt the need to explain yourself, “That’s my ex… He’s the reason I moved here. I was trying to get away from him… I guess it wasn’t good enough though since he found me,” you sighed.

The urge to rest his hand on yours overwhelmed him, but Steven was scared to touch you. He came to his own conclusions on why you went to such lengths to run away from that man, and as much as he wanted to offer you comfort, he was scared that it would backfire. After reaching and pulling his hand back several times, he lightly touched the back of your hand.

You gasped as your eyes went wide, but you made no attempt to move. Encouraged, Steven laid more weight on top of yours and gave your hand a light squeeze. A heavy exhale of relief escaped your lips and Steven gave you a soft smile.

“I’ll always be here for you,” he whispered your name, “Whatever you need, I’ll help you get rid of that shithead for good.”

That made you laugh, and for the first time all day, you relaxed, “Thank you, Steven.”

He wasn’t sure if he imagined it but your eyes flashed down to his lips for a brief second.

“Hey, it’s like I told you,” he smiled back at you, “I’m right next door.” Before he could stop himself, Steven snuck a glance down at your own lips as they parted to let out another heavy breath. He recollected himself and added, “We’ll figure this out.” And I’ll protect you…

Your smile lit up your face the way Steven always loved to see, and it made his whole body relax as you spoke; “Right where you always are,” you listed your mug up, “Cheers, neighbor.” 

“Cheers… Neighbor.” Steven kept his true feelings buried for now; it wasn’t the right time to say anything. For now, he would just be there for you when you needed him… as your trusty neighbor. 

You stayed late into the night until Steven was sure your ex wouldn’t come back. And even as he watched you go back to your place right next door, he stood watch in the hallway for some time. Steven waited until he was sure no harm would come to you, and only when he was certain did he go back inside and lay down in his own bed. But oh how he wished he could have asked you to stay and keep you wrapped up in his arms. Steven didn’t want to cross that boundary with that, though.

Although, if he’d asked, you would have said yes.

That night, Steven had an interesting dream. In his dream, he donned black leather gloves and drove over to your ex’s house where he beat him until he couldn’t speak.

“You’re going to stay away now, yes?” dream Steven asked in a low and threatening tone.

Your ex’s blood dripped from his mouth as he lay beaten and bruised on the floor, “Y-yes.”

“I better not see you around again,” dream Steven gave him one last kick for good measure.

The next morning, you knocked on his door, and Steven leapt out of bed, worried you were in danger again. He pushed through the soreness in his body, as if his dream actually happened, and even without a mirror, Steven knew he had large bags under his eyes. But, his weariness melted away when he met you on the other side of the door, your expression bright and cheerful.

“Steven,” you explained as you pulled him in for a big hug, “I got a message saying my ex decided to move away! He won’t be around anymore!” you exhaled deeply, “That means I don’t have to move.”

The smile that lit up Steven’s face was strong enough to wash away the pain and the undereye bags, “That’s wonderful!” He had never been more relieved in his life, “I didn’t want to have to deal with new neighbors,” he chided playfully.

“Me either,” you lit your lip, “I’m rather fond of the one I have.”

Me too… Steven thought.