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marcspectorstannie · 10 days

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⁂Meet the parents⁂(Steven grant x f!AA! reader)

Summary: reader takes Steven to finally meet her parents for dinner and has to prepare him for what her family is like

Warnings: slightly cursing most likely, a little angst if u squint, black trauma

A/n: this is intended to be a female/feminine and African American reader so just a heads up! I've been thinking about writing smth like this for a while now

A/n2: this is honestly so fuckn long and I'm so sorry LOL

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"Now I have to warn you, my family is a bit...much." You both sat in the car in front of your parents house. The car was turned off so you were both is a weirdly comfortable silence. As much as you loved your family it was always rough bringing people to meet them as they always scared them away by being too loud or gossiping a bit too much. But Steven insisted on meeting them, even after your constant warnings.

"Your family can't possibly be that bad, love. I think you're just being a bit of a scaredy cat." Steven raised his eyebrows at you and tapped your nose playfully. You rolled your eyes and smiled a bit. He never met your family personally, he just knew the little stories that you would tell him that you remembered from your childhood. You closed your eyes and sighed softly "I'm not scared I have nothing to be scared of. It's just..." it was hard to tell him straight up that black families are a lot different from other families "they have their many differences to say the least, and I'm not even sure if it's just my mom and dad there or if they invited my cousi-." Cutting you off, your phone rang violently. It was your mother. Hesitantly you picked it up and placed it on speaker.

"When you gon' get here? This food gon get cold now." Your mother questioned, the pots and pans clattering in the background. "We're actually just looking for parking mama, we'll be there soon don't worry." You looked over at Steven with a nervous expression. "Aight now don't be making me wait for you and you bringing company ova to my damn house.. " You rolled your eyes at your mother's comment. "I'm not mama, I'll see you in a few." And before you could say anything else she had hung up. You sighed loudly once again and placed your head on the steering wheel. "I guess we shouldn't keep her waiting, might ring you again." Steven said softly. "Don't worry, this night will so swimmingly. " You smiled at his vocabulary and opened your car door. "Let's get this over with."

Soon enough you were knocking on the front door. Your mind was racing with all sorts of thoughts of what could happen throughout the night. "And when you're speaking to any adult just say yes or no sir or ma'am, you will quickly be called disrespectful. " You rushed out any last warnings to Steven at the door. Surprisingly he was the more calm one for once. "Breathe. I've got it. Besides,im always respectful." Just after he finished the door swung open and you both were greeted by your mother, wearing her good blouse and church shoes. "There's my baby! Come in, both of ya! " Your mother let you in and closed the door behind you. The house was exactly how it was after you moved out. That yellow-orange tint to the lighting and brown cabinets and floors. The scent of homemade food traveled through the whole house.

"Ray! Get in here, your daughter and her lil friend are here!" You'd forgotten what her yelling sounded like after so many years. She knew Steven was your boyfriend but still denys it, especially your father. You watched your father hobble into the living room with his patterned button up shirt and glistening bald head. "Though you had forgot about us, so busy thinking you grown and allat." You smiled and shook your head. You looked over at Steven at seen him picking his nails and examining the old house."Mama, dad. This is Steven." He finally looked at your parents after hearing his name and gave a small smile, sticking out his hand for them to shake. "Happy to finally meet you both,I've heard so many nice things about you." Your mom chuckled and shook his hand "Good things huh? Back then we were such awful parents to her apparently, couldn't wait to get out and live her own grown ass life." You smiled out of embarrassment "Mama I never said that at all." She put a hand on your back "Come, let's get to what y'all really came for, that good food. "

After a while of getting settled and your mom blurtting out your business to everyone, you all finally sat down in the to eat in living room. You had a kitchen and dining room, of course, but your mother would have lost her head if anyone got food in the dining room. Steven had helped your mother pass out the plates as you stayed and talked with your father on the couch.

"So tell us a lil bit about yo self, Steven. What's yo last name?" He felt his face get warm from embarrassment, "Grant, miss." Your mother turned to you with an eyebrow raise, "think you got a cousin with that name, think they up there with the Lord now though." Your eyes widened as she continued to eat as if nothing happened. "So what do you do for work, son? " Your father finally chimed in to speak after almost eating half his plate. You looked at Steven as he looked at you as well. You knew how this was going to end. "I used to work at a gift shop at a museum but I got um, fired.Sir." You saw him look down at his plate and tried to eat to distract himself from your parents reactions. "Don't be letting him use you for yo money, girl. Don't be hangin' 'round no bums." "He is not a bum, mama! How and why would you even say that?" You quickly shut down your mothers disrespectful comments. "Don't be getting smart with me girl! I can still whoop yo ass at yo grown age, don't phase me none." Your father placed a hand on your mothers shoulder, "Not in front of company, Jeanine." "I don't give a damn, Ray. I don't want my daughter with a bum. Ian saying that he is, I'm just lettin' her know to remember that."

You bit the inside of your cheek to hide your anger and you look over at Steven. He had his chin almost to his chest as he picked at his plate of food to distract himself from the argument happening in front of him. You grabbed his hand from under the table, causing him to pick his head up. "Wanna head out?" You whispered to him. He hesitated before he shook his head no,"I can handle it.." You pressed your lips together and squeezed his hand tightly. "Ok mama, I get it. Can we at least try and act presentable?" She shrugged and continued eating her food. "You watch football? Basketball? Anything like that?" Your father knew bringing up sports would annoy your mother, but it was better than the constant arguing. "No sir, I'm uh more of a cricket person myself." Steven gave him a small shy smile. "Ahh" he exclaimed "I just noticed you had that lil accent, where you from son?" "England, sir. I moved here about a year or two ago.Been trying to pick up on the american slang, so many different words."

Steven and your father talked for a few while you and your mother sat in silence. You didn't wanna say anything, the slightest thing said to you by her would be considered disrespectful and get the black slapped off you. She was silent until she suddenly let out a weird comment. "You know them British didn't like us black folks, we was slaves to them back in the day." Your eyes widened as she continued to talk "Had to follow what they said. Yo great grandmother was a slave to those British people until she was finally a free woman and had yo grandma, may her soul rest in peace." She drew the cross across her chest and pointed towards the sky. Your face was so scrunched up you almost couldn't see. Why would she bring that up, especially in front of company? It was like she wanted to embarrass you. Ever since Steven said he got fired your mother has been slick with her comments and disrespectful remarks. And of course, your father fails to do anything. You had to go home.

"You know what, it's actually getting pretty late. Think we should start heading out, he's got that job interview tomorrow." That last part was a lie, but you know your parents believed it. You just wanted to get out of there. "Lemme wrap that food up for y'all then, bring me yo' plates." Your father grabbed the plates and headed into the kitchen. Your mother didn't do anything but continue eating, not looking up once. It was like the memories from your childhood started to flood back to you just standing there. Steven took the 2 plates that your father had placed in a bag and shook his hand "Pleasure meeting you both, sir. Have a wonderful evening." Your father smiled and went to hug you. "Bye baby, sorry about your mother." You gave a fake smile to him and hugged him back before finally walking out the door. You didn't say anything until you finally got into the car and put your hands in your head.

"I'm sorry, love." Steven said quietly, placing the food on the floor of the car. "I should have insisted on meeting your family so much,this would have never happened." You felt your eyes began to sting as you quickly blinked them away. You removed your hands and shook your head, "Just wish she would change.Nothing changed since I left." You grabbed your keys and started the car before finally driving home in silence, thinking about your mother.

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#marvel #moon knight headcanon #moon knight #steven grant #moon knight x reader #steven grant headcanon #moonknight #moon knight comics #marc spector #steven grant imagine #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #black reader

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mandowifey · 1 year

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Headcanon request for either Albert Shaw or Arthur Harrow as a dad. But honestly, I would accept such a Headcanon for any villianeous character you write about. So surprise me.

This has been sitting in my head for awhile, so I'm excited to get to work on it.

I'm gonna do both these handsome fellas!

° ° °

Fatherhood

Albert Shaw & Arthur Harrow x Reader HCs

Warnings: Hints of Dubcon, definitely Noncon, implications of above mentions, crazy boys around kids, reader is not referred to by specific gender terms but is able to get pregnant.

♡ ♡ ♡

Arthur Harrow, first and foremost, wanted a child.

A child to him is a means of keeping you beside him. The bond would tie you two together forever. He likes the sense of control it brings him, especially over you. When you first met him, you were on the pill and mentioned never wanting kids of your own. But Arthur, as he does, convinces you otherwise. Perhaps even it was an 'accident'. He is certainly the kind of man who would swap your birth control with sugar pills. But he'd smile anyways and assure you it was fate.

While pregnant, you would be doted over. Every need met, whether it be from him or his followers. You would be given luxury and love and treasured like a little goddess. This is Arthur's child, after all, and that baby would be considered a herald. He would enjoy sitting with you, head on your stomach as you two talked. He would additionally make sure you ate well and took all the things you need for a healthy child. Arthur enjoys touching your belly while he reads or falls asleep. You have never looked more stunning.

When the child arrives, Arthur is in love immediately. While most wish for a boy, he always wanted a girl. Regardless, he was happy with whichever. He would sit beside you and help you cradle the crying newborn, imagining all the great things your baby would grow to accomplish. You, as the carrier, get to name the baby. Arthur would suggest names of course but leave the choice to you.

Fatherhood suits him. The man is extremely patient and controlled. He is great with teaching your child and helping them along. You've never heard him laugh so much before. There is considerable joy in his life now, and it shows. That baby would be raised with love and expectations. However, he is stern and unrelenting. The child never gets away with anything, and punishment is taken very seriously. It will learn that for actions, there are consequences.

I think Arthur would be a natural with parenting and fatherhood. He'd enjoy the molding of such a young life. He would eventually ask you for another, and maybe one more, once the first is a little older.

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Albert Shaw has never wanted children. As a child, he was violently abused and mistreated. He can not mentally grasp the responsibility of a child (even if he can raise and train a dog, it's different).

That being said, in this instance, you are a victim/obsession that he's grown fond of and wants to keep. Pregnancy at its core appeals to him. The idea of his seed stuck inside of you, the fact that you are forced to grow and bear something that is equal parts his own excites him. He enjoys the thought of you being stuck with a piece of him inside of you and for life. But that is just about where it ends for him.

When you start showing signs of pregnancy, he'd simply watch. Maybe, depending on if he really enjoys you, he'll give you water and use his softer tone to reassure you that all was well. He does find it arousing that your skin clears and breasts swell - he'd be very interested in those. When your tummy grows, he'd touch it and talk to you about it, generally wanting to make you uncomfortable.

"How does it feel? Being stuck with a piece of me inside of you."

When it came time for birth, you were most likely alone. Stuck in the basement and forced to go through the entire process alone. In this instance, if you survived, he would return home surprised to see and hear a baby.

There is a long pause, and he is gripping and loosening his hands. You can't really tell what he's thinking. You would be filthy, tired, barely awake if not for that need to protect your newborn. He would come across the room and shake his head, scolding you about the mess you made. You are afraid when he sits beside you and looks at the child. Part of you wants to believe he cares, but you see no semblance of love in those eyes of his.

He'd sit in silence for a while, wincing if the baby cried. Eventually, when you got too tired to keep awake, he'd take the child out of your arms and leave the basement.

And you would never see the baby again.

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marvelthottie · 1 year

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Floating

pairing: Steven Grant x Black Reader

rating: explicit(18+ mdni)

summary: You like seeing Steven absolutely weak for you.

warnings: Unprotected sex, cursing, praise kink, substeven, overstimulation, edging, kind of subdrop

You felt horrible but when you watch a tear or two slip from Steven’s eyes as he is overcome with pleasure when he comes it turns you feral. You like watching him lose control, almost in a dream state, loose at your mercy. You were a lot of Steven’s first, first to give him a blowjob and even the one to take his virginity. So it always amazes you how easy it is to take Steven down and make him yours. He was always eager to please and try new things, so when you asked to tie him to the headboard he couldn’t help but to say yes.

You edged him for a hour, tugging you in your hand to sucking his dick, watching as he whimpered helplessly. Despite being so close, sweaty and twitchy, dick red and aching, he was so good and didn’t cum.

“Steven, my sweet boy, you’re so good for me.” You wore a black lace two piece set, with a matching garter belt and thigh highs to match. Your knotless braids was tied back, out of your face as you crawled up the bed to him. Your body covering his, you laid kisses up his chest, neck, stopping right before kissing him on the lips.

“You’re such a good boy Steven.”

To which he gave an answering moan.

“Do you want me to stop my teasing baby”

“Please love” He sobbed, “ I need you, I’m aching for you.” His dick twitched from

his own words.

You took him in your hands lining him up with your pussy, sinking down slowly, as he shook against you. Your pussy squelched, juices flooding around Steven, as you sighed taking adjusting in his lap. His hands fisted in the cuffs that were attached to the head board, gasping out your name. You lifted, sinking on him repeating, once, twice, on your third, you watched his eyes roll back, body frozen.

“Oh love”, he groaned out, suddenly shaking, as you felt him cum inside you, hips pumping draining himself inside of you.

You smirked, feeling how he stayed hard, you love when you broke Steven, bringing him to the edge and watching him struggle to stay afloat.

“You with me baby?” You asked,kissing him on the neck leaving little love bites along his chest.

“Yes—“ he drawled out, head lolling to the side, smiling.

You released the cuffs on him, never unsheathing yourself, you laid his hands upon your hips.

“Well it’s my turn now baby.” And with that,you rested you hands against his chest again, rising slightly on your feet.

You rode Steven, chasing you own orgasm, moaning and scratching at his chest. You loved him like this at your mercy willing to do anything to satisfy you.

“Steven, baby,” you cried out as he weakly thrusted up into you, your downward thrust meets his.

He whimpered, maybe the overstimulation was getting to him, but he pushed through, rubbing your hips moaning your name.

“Steven, fuck”, your back arched, slamming down on him one last time, shaking from exertion and pleasure. You climbed off of him, you both meeting in the middle of his bed, kissing, smiling, drained.

He was puddy in your arms, curls sticking to his forehead from the sweat.

“I love you” Steven said against your lips,

“I love you more”, you replied.

#steven grant x black reader #black reader #black y/n #steven grant x reader #sub steven grant #steven grant #moon knight #moonknight

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mysecretlittlelibrary · 1 year

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Wash Day With The Moonknight Boys

Pairing: Moonknight trio x Black!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: None, if it wasn't obvious these are self indulgent fluff PALACES

Genre: fluff

Summary: What wash day is like when the moonknight boys drop by for a visit

***

You toss the last bit of hair into your wastebin as you finish taking down your braids.

"Hey, y/n, where are ya sweetheart?" You hear from your living room. Oh. You didn't even hear the sliding door to your balcony open. Apparently your one of your boyfriends is getting much better at sneaking in. It was Marc's voice shouting for you but it's equally likely that Jake had gotten in for him.

"Bedroom!" You shout back, pausing the series you started to get through taking out your hair.

"What're you doing babe?" Marc leans against your doorframe.

"It's wash day so- I just finished taking down my braids." You say standing from the floor to greet him with a kiss.

"Wash day, huh?" He hums.

"Yeah, what brings you by?" You ask.

"Nothing specific, we just missed you. Hope we're not inconveniencing you too much."

"You're never inconveniencing me, don't be ridiculous. Hi Steven, hi Jake, by the way."

"Hello love." Steven smiles quickly.

"You guys are so much better at switching these days." You muse.

"It helps that we aren't hiding from each other anymore. Hello mi vida." Jake shrugs with a lazy smirk.

"Yeah that might help." You giggle.

"So, reinita, what're your plans for the evening? Just washing your hair?" Jake asks.

"Well, that alone is going to take an hour, but I do also have to do something after so that it's manageable tomorrow."

"Are you braiding it again?" Steven's back now, always the most inquisitive.

"Not in the immediate future. I think I'll wear it out for a bit." You shrug.

"Really?"

"Yes lovely."

"Mm I love when you wear your hair out." Marc hums.

"I didn't realize you've seen my hair out?" You frown.

"You know just because you didn't meet me right away doesn't mean I didn't see you before you knew about us."

"I mean I know but in the beginning I hardly wore it out even around Steven. I think I had braids when we met."

"You did." He nods. "I'd like to backtrack though, you said washing your hair takes an hour?"

"Yes."

"Wait how long do the braids take then?"

"To put in or take out?" You laugh.

"Both?"

"Depends on the style. The braids I just had take like 5 hours to put in by myself on a good day and maybe 4 to take out because I can cut them and do much less unbraiding than braiding. But of course that's if I don't get distracted or hungry. Usually I just dedicate a whole day to anything hair related." You shrug.

"Oh- do you just always plan it around whenever we're occupied with Khonshu?"

"No actually that's usually just coincidence, but I do try to make sure we're not supposed to have plans that day. Like today."

"We're really sorry-"

"Don't apologize Steven. I already said you weren't a bother. I love that you all came to surprise me. I just have to wash my hair first then we can order food and watch a movie once I've finished." You say.

"Wait what should I do while you wash your hair?" Steven asks.

"Uh I got some new books on the shelf if you wanna check them out. Or you could watch something, I'm not sure Steven there's 3 of you I'd hope you can manage the hour my love." You chuckle.

"We can manage he's just clingy my vida." Jake rolls his eyes.

"Be nice now Jakey, I love Steven just as he is. Don't make him feel bad about it." You nudge him grabbing a spare t-shirt and your wide tooth comb.

"Sure thing. See you in an hour. Should I order food?"

"We'll wait to order since I'll be a while." You step into the bathroom. You take several minutes to soak your hair before you shampoo. After massaging your scalp for a while, you rinse it out. You cut the water off and put conditioner in your hair. You hear a knock on the bathroom door once you start working through your hair with a comb.

"Are you done love?" Steven's voice is muffled through the door and you giggle.

"No, not yet. I did say I'd be a while lovely." You tell him.

"I know but I was grabbing a phone charger from your room and I heard the water stop."

"Yeah- because I'm about to spend at least 30 minutes detangling it and if I kept the water on it would surely go cold before I get out." You explain. You hear the door crack open before he speaks again.

"Thirty minutes?! That's so long to just stand in silence."

"Well usually I listen to music while I wash my hair but I didn't bring my speaker today so I was probably just going to sing or something."

"Did you want company?"

"You want to sit in the bathroom while I detangle my hair?" You stop detangling for a second to look towards him even though you can't see him through the shower curtain.

"Only if you'd like, to help pass the time, you know? I can talk about our assignment for Khonshu last night, or work today, or the book I've been reading lately. I can also grab your speaker if you'd rather just-"

"You can stay Steven. Come on in baby." You say with a smile. Marc and Jake make fun of him for being clingy but you actually think his tendencies are cute. Even if it means he wants to hang with you while you wash your hair. It's endearing, even if he won't outwardly say it, that he wants to be close to you at all times.

"What should I talk about then?"

"You had a mission for Khonshu yesterday?"

"Yes, I was off work and Jake was bored so, ended up basically running an errand."

"Was it interesting at all?" You ask.

"More interesting than doing nothing but as far as missions for him go, it was very tame." Steven says.

"I hope that silly old bird is being nice to you all." You hum.

"He's not any worse than he's ever been. Still a cranky old deity." He laughs.

"Well tell me about this errand Jake had to run." You tell him. Steven launches in a retelling of their latest Khonshu mission while you finish detangling your hair.

"I'm turning the shower back on but keep talking baby." You tell him once you're finished taking knots out of your hair and scrubbing your skin with bodywash.

"Oh- has it been a half hour already?" Steven asks.

"Probably. I mean I did start before you came in here but I only know how much time I've been in here when I have music to mark the passage of time." You say rinsing first your body and then your hair. When you finally push back the shower curtain and grab your towel Steven is smiling at you.

"Hi." He says.

"Hello, I'd ask if you miss me but, you were in here for half the time I was here." You giggle, tying your t-shirt around your hair to dry yourself off.

"I didn't realize how much effort goes into your hair." Steven tells you.

"I don't usually talk about it. It's never really comes up, but I mean if you have any questions you can ask." You say leaving the bathroom. Steven follows you to your room.

"I don't have anything to ask right now but I'll keep that in mind. Should we order food now?"

"Sure, what do you want?" You ask putting on lotion and looking for clothes. You throw on a pair of shorts and one of your hoodies before Steven answers. "Steven?" You frown at him.

"Steven and Jake are arguing. We're ordering pizza because it'll be another hour before they agree on something." Marc says.

"Alright, pizza it is." You laugh grabbing your phone. You order a large pizza for you to share with them and walk out to the living room with Marc behind you.

"I can't believe Steven sat in there talking your ear off while you washed your hair." Marc muses sitting on the couch.

"Don't start. You know I think it's cute." You smack is arm as you sit beside him and turn the TV on.

"You're so soft on him."

"Because he's my boyfriend? Just like you and Jake- don't pretend I'm not soft to all of you." You roll your eyes.

"I don't need soft." Marc scoffs.

"You sure about that?" You ask carding your fingers through his hair.

"Now that isn't fair." He says with a pout as he instinctively leans into your touch.

"I'm soft, no one said anything about fair." You smile unwrapping your hair to dry it with the shirt you tied it in.

"Don't you own a blow dryer?" Marc asks.

"I do, somewhere, but I try not to use it if I can help it. Air drying is the best way so I usually stick with that. Especially since it'll have all night to dry completely after I twist it later." You shrug. Marc takes the t-shirt from you and takes over drying your hair.

"You're gonna twist it later? Won't that take a while?"

"Depends on how many. It usually takes an hour or so and they don't have to be super nice because I'm gonna take them out in the morning. It's just to keep it from tangling while it dries so it's not a nightmare to style tomorrow." You shrug.

"No wonder you dedicate an entire day to hair related activities." Marc snorts. You're a little surprised to notice he's mimicking what you'd been doing to dry your hair. You know he pays attention to detail when it comes to you but he picked it up rather quickly, even for him.

"I can't help but wonder how long you thought all this stuff that I do takes." You muse.

"I've never thought about it really? Steven says 'not nearly as long as it does take' and Jake has never given it much thought either."

"Right well, as they say, you learn something new everyday I guess." You shrug.

"Is twisting it hard?"

"Not at all actually. It's easier than some of my protective styles that I keep in for extended periods of time."

"So- we could learn to do it, theoretically? If we wanted to help or something."

"You- could. Theoretically. Are you offering to help?" You ask with a small laugh.

"Maybe. Just wondering if it's even possible for us to help you."

"Of course it is. If any of you want to. But that'll be after we eat anyway." You shrug.

"Well- if we can, maybe we will."

"That would be very sweet of you." You muse. He mutters an affirmative as if he's reluctant to admit he wants to help. They're all so bad with words it's both hilarious and adorable.

"Your hair is- really nice. Very soft." He says dropping the t-shirt on the arm of the couch next to him.

"Thank you." You say. You run your fingers through your hair. It's not fully dry but you're sure the shirt is too wet to really take anymore moisture out of it so this will do for now. It'll probably be better by the time you eat and set out to teach your clueless boyfriends how to style your hair. You're as happy to include them in things as they are happy to be included- even if they don't outright say how much it means to them.

***

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spacecowboyhotch · 5 months

Text

DISCLAIMERS: * indicates 18+/NSFW content. all readers are described as having dark/darker skin than the character they are shipped with. reader is also described as having curly hair, braids or locs depending on the fic.

Moonknight

One More Time

Sprite (black!nymph!oc)*

Mosaic Whispers (black!fem!oc)*

Narcos

Tied Together*

Criminal Minds

Moon River*

The Mandalorian

Ambrosial

Triple Frontier

The Dead Horse (santi garcia)

#x black reader #black reader #black fem reader #black!fem!reader #black gn reader #black!fem!oc #black oc #black female original character #moonknight fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #narcos fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #blog stuff

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soft-persephone · 1 month

Text

When the Eclipse is Over the Sun still Shines CH.4

MDNI // Rating: E // WC: 4.4k // Warnings: descriptions of blood and gore, character wounds, grief, death, cunnilingus, biting, marking, unclarity of emotions (no one’s holding your hands to say what is toxic love or not) // Searching For Stardust // masterlist // ch. 1 // ch. 3 //

Marc uttered your name into the wind, unaware.

He made it onto your roof, opening the window with a clumsy urgency. It was a part of new routine between you both.

Marc’s chest swelled with the thought. There was a routine. The foolproof evidence that something was between you both. That you weren’t a figment of his imagination or an apparation that would soon disappear into a distant memory. A memory he’d hold onto with a death grip as he continued the rest of his life. Wondering if he would ever get as close to something as bright as you once more before he closes his eyes for good.

After he was done doing Kohnshu’s bidding, each night he would find himself at your house. At the edge of the city,, past the nearest humble farms and cottages,, was a large fancy house, secluded from the world. What once was only your humble residence had now become his refuge.

The cluttered hole of his apartment that was littered with books and several little hiding spots filled with dangerous trinkets and artifacts of unknown origins, no longer felt like home.

On top of avoiding the little walls of his life, he was more than aware of his hogging of the body.

His alters had been scarce and he ignored his part in why that may be. The ferocious guilt gnawed away at his every waking moment, ripping the fleas off his shoulders until the stray pieces of his flesh limped off of his body, ripping at his leash until they were jagged and ugly, leaving the bones to pop out at the seems of his bleeding skin. Stripping his soul into ugly fleshy bits until what was left was hardly recognizable, but what was left of him crawled its way to reach the sweet waters of salvation that was you. He dutifully dragged his wounded maimed body by his arms.

Whether you washed over him in waves or he had to lap at the ground for the sparest of drops before the sunk into the dirt beyond his grasp of whatever you spared to give him, he’d do it again and again.

The silence in choice of a lack of words was still preferable, but he texted you that one time, and it didn’t stop.

He couldn’t stop.

You both were desperately grabbing at whatever scraps you offered one another. Filling in the gaps the silence left, amplifying whatever you two had into something brighter and more dangerous than what you had before. What once was a shared pit of darkness soon felt like a burning plight of emotion too strong to look at for more than a second.

You weren’t in your room.

Spilling out into the hallway with a stumble, cursing at one of Bane's stray toys on the floor, he began his search for you.

He heard the echoes of the ragged Batman doll’s owner in the halls and followed it.

Bane is never up this late.

Stumbling once more around the corner he found you intensely muttering back and forth with another man.

His brow furrowed deep into his forehead as he whispers harsh words into your face, barely an inch away from you.

He watched as your breath fanned accross his lashes, whispering back with just as much fervor.A, frown dwarfing your features. It would almost be cute if he wasn’t alarmed by who was in front of you.

His picture’s littered the walls. His closet still held all his belongings in place as if he never left. His favorite mug never strayed too far from your lips.

His wedding band was immortalized on the chain you never took off your neck.

You were having a lntense argument with the husband he thought, no, he knew was dead.

The grief inside of you that you wordlessly shared with him when he first met you, the grief in the words you texted him not too long ago, and the grief of a dog not sure when his other owner was coming back, was not a lie.

The man turned to look at him . His brow somehow furrowing further, followed by an eerie chill. You followed his gaze and your frown morphed into one of shock.

Emotion filled him. Overwhelming each and every sensation of his body, internal and external.

He didn’t hate you for whatever this is. He didn’t know if he would ever truly be able to do such a thing.

But he could walk over to you, regardless of how each step sent a shock up his spine and made his teeth shatter.

He grabs you, pulling you into him. He savors the smell of the soft plush vanilla and cashmere that swallowed your skin. The familiar softness of your lips he would never soon forget. How you fisted your hands into the threads of suit before it faded away. Letting he soft warm feeling of your palms on his flesh. Moaning, he leaned into your touch, chasing for more, for you.

“Marc.”

He froze, your voice wet and wavering.

What had he done wrong?

Pulling away from you, for just a moment, is the only time he began to notice the blood, How it smeared your face and your clothes. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, everything turned black.

“This is Marc?” Luke’s eyebrows roseinto his hairline, making the lines of his forehead wrinkle in aghast.

You carefully dragged Marc into the nearest bathroom with the help of your not so dead husband.

“Like your one to talk,” you both began stripping his clothes befoe turning the faucet on, “how many times did I have to piece you together?”

He slammed a random counter shut and handed you the first aid kit. He placed it in front of you from behind. His arms wrapping around you in quick succession. The warmth of his breath fanning across your neck as he entativelytentatively watched you work, grounding you.

If He weren’t here, you'd be a frantic mess. Tears would blur your vision and you never would have managed to stop it in time. You could ony asume the worst for such a situation.

“Yeah, but those were good times.” The chuckle that vibrated from his chest onto your back filled you with a huff of amusement of your own. He placed a bit of your hair onto the other side of your head out of the way as you slowly pulled the needle in and out of Marc’s skin. There was a nasty cut on his low right side, and you still had to take a look at the one underneath his collar on the left.

“You liked patching me up.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to hide your smile, but you failed miserably.

‘Yeah,” he smiled, scooting even closer to you on the floor, causing you to feel the corners of his lips pulling up into the skin of your cheek, his beard tickling you which made you laugh even more, “you did.”

“Stop,’ you laughed, “Im concentrating.”

“You fucking loved it.”

You softly head butted him in the chest. “Help me wrap this gauze around him incase he bleeds again.”

How exactly Luke was able to come back into your life in these rare moments, he wouldn’t tell you.

But you always had a feeling that he was somehow here sometimes, watching you.

Glimpses of him in the mirror every now and then, whispers of his voice in the wind right before you left the house and closed the door behind you, the way Bane would bark at his favorite seat, often times refusing to let people sit in the chair alltogtether. How he would sometimes pad around the house, barking everynow and then like someone was talking to him.

You had a feeling, but you would never utter a word about it to anyone.

On the rare days like this one, he would appear. You could touch him, feel him, and smell him. Like he had never left at all. Three years of grief, and he was back like nothing had happned.

You were joyous, but he had his reservations.

He had seen the process of your grief, and he wanted nothing more than for you to be happy. He wanted you to follow the advice of your loved ones who pushed you to move on to go on dates, to do things the right way.

However, you know how he actually felt.

You know how he really felt in the moments when you could actually see and touch him. How it made you both feel.

It was easy too.

All the conversation that once had their end, now had a sequel. All those meals that he made for you, that you could never recreate, that you could never get wuite right on you own, could now be eaten again and again to your heart's content.

What you once missed now became what you waited for.

You didn’t have to miss how he’d wrap his hands around you as you washed dishes. How he wouldn’t unwrap his arms from you as you walked along the house. You could repeat once more the joke of how he once hated being too touchy. How he used to be slightly annoyed with how clingy you were, but he now would never let you go.

You didn’t have to miss watching Luke play with Bane one more time before inevitably putting him to bed. He’d put up a good fight for as long as he coulduld get away with it, but Luke would firmly say enough is enough, and he’d finally settle into his little bed before they called him a good boy and ggive him his last pats and kisses of the night.

You didn’t have to miss showering together. However this time was different as you both washed away Marc’s blood from your bodies.

He carressed your skin gently. Slowly whipping the African net sponge across your skin as he methodically kissed the expanse of your neck, trailing them up along your collar, cherishing the feeling of your skin beneath his lps before he disappears once more.

You turned and scrubbed at his chest, and he in turned kissed you on the forehead. You smiled up at him. His broadroad shoulders blocked the spray of the shower head, so your hair wouldn’t get wet.

“I just want you to be happy “ he gripped your jaw in his hand before pulling you in for a wet kiss. “I don’t really like him for you, but you’re an adult and my opinion ultimately doesn’t matter. You're free to do what you want.”

You averted your eyes from his. Avoiding the weight of his stare and the heaviness of his tone as he graveled lowly at you, the sound of it filled your stomach with butterflies and not the good kind you usually felt when he talked so low in your face.

“Hey, look at me.” He said softly but infliction in his voice caused the volume of it to raise higher, but his voice was so deep that it only made him sound gravelier,deeper even. The low dulcet tone rang loud in your rears, bouncing around in your brain. How youwished he spoke to you like this under differnt circumstances.

You rolled back and forth on your heels and toes.

“Look at me.” He said firmly, tightening his grip on you.

“If you can’t answer that question with a yes straight away, I don’t want you with them.” he paused, redjusting his grip into simeethign more gentle bust just as firm. “Is that too much to ask?” He looked into your eyes for reassurance and answer, anything.

“I.. I don’t know the answer.”

He pursed his lips and let you go, crossing his arms, but he didn’t move away from you, staying near you.

“But. . . I know,” you breathed sharply through your nose to keep your composure. “I know. . . I can’t not have him near me. I know I need him.”

He nodded, but he didn’t unpurse his lips.

Placing each hand on your shoulders and rubbing warmth into you, he sighed.

“I don’t like that answer.”

You leaned into him, placing your head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you.

“What do you think about your relationship with him? What do you even call it?”

“I don’t know,” you closed your eyes, “we don’t talk.”

The water no longer warm anymore, he turned it off while he kept one arm around you before grabbing a towel and patting you both dry before wrapping it around his waist before you both headed to the bedroom.

He laid you down into the bed and followed suit with a small pump container of oil, you watched as his jaw tensed so tight, a vein peaked out of his neck. He breathed sharply through his nose a few times before he started rubbing you down.

No matter how you both spent the day when he appeared out of nowhere, they always ended the same. After a shower he longed to recommit every inch of your body to memory. At first you through it was for him, but you soon learned it was for you.

That it was all for you.

It was a small memory for you to hold onto. For you to carry with you, so that when the grief comes circling back. That when the reality of the situation shakes you to your core and rattles your bones and starts eating away at the pieces of you that you worked so hard to get back, you would have something to remember him by.

You couldld remember how his very large, iful, beautifuland warm hands would caress every nook and cranny of your skin. How they felt on you. How each swipe, squeeze, toug and kneed of your flesh comforted you into a hazy cocoon of safety and love.

Even now, as he was irritated with you.

In your younger years you both would have exploaded. Every harsh word and tht oughtuld would be uttered, and you both would separate for the day, stewing in your emotions before falling back into one another with soft words and apologies that turned into compromises or a solution, but as you aged with one another, learned every unspoken word and movement of one another, and what that meant, yelling at one another lost its appeal and was replaced with little gestures and words with clenched teeth. Harsh whispers, but open honest communication.

You both somehow learned to be angry with one another without the horrible consequences, but neither of you could take credit. It was all up to his therapist that eventually thought it would be a good idea for you to come with him sometimes.

“What do you mean you don’t talk?” He leaned over you, about to put the bottle back on the nightstand, but you took it from him to give him the same treatment he had given you. It was only so you could have something to do with your hands.

You ran your hands through his hair, savoring how soft his loose curls were before, kneading the oil into its shoulders. The soft smell of vanilla was filling the room.

“We. . .” You lost track at his chest. Savoring the scratch the patch of hair felt under your hands “we met and looked at one another. Like really looked at one another, and we didn’t really say anything to each other and it just worked.”

You fiddled with your hands on his chest. He stilled your hands with his. Holding them firmly against his chest as if to tattoo the imprint of them into his skin.

“And how exactly did you meet him and decide with one look you two wouldwould just, I don’t know, have something without talking to one another?”

“Okay, but you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

He laughed and maneuvered you sideways, so you could comfortably lay back into his chest. He propped up his head with a bent elbow. “Haha, your so funny.”

“He’s, like a Superhero or something?” you narrowed your eyes at him. He laughed. “Well he’s too bloody to be an avenger.”

You slapped his chest with the back of your hand.

“He saved my life.”

“You almost died!”

“I’ve told you I’ve almost died like a thousand times!”

“You did not say it was under Superhero conditions! A fact you consequently left out not only because of how you’d know I’d react to you almost dying, but also about this mysterious new guy I’ve been seeing that’s so hot and so amazing! I think he’s really helping me move forward for once.” He mocked you at the end.

His hand slowly moved up and down your chest. You wanted to focus on the conversation, but his thumb circled lightly at the swell of your breast.

“Well— I—“ you cried out sharply and arched your back, keening into his touch.

He swallowed the sounds coming out of you with a seal of his lips. They were warm, hot, and demanding.

He moved his mouth to your neck, sucking harshly at your skin before biting down. You scratched your nails along his back, pulling him into you.

Once he was sure that your skin would hold the mark of his mouth for more than a day or two, he relented, rewarding you with shoving your head down harshly with the palm of his hand as he positioned himself behind you.

“Is that what you want?” He slid himself into with one harsh thrust, knowing that you’d be more than just wet for him. “Is that what Marc gives you when I’m away?”

He ended his sermon with a succession of brutal harsh movements. With each one you fluttered around him, squeezing him in as your teeth clenched together to keep them from clattering together.

“He’s… gentle.” You whined through gritted teeth.

He smacked your ass before moving his hand to the back of your throat, squeezing tight.

“You don’t need gentle. I’ve given you plenty of that when we were younger.”

You opened your mouth in a silent moan. You could no longer comprehend the feeling of him gliding in and out of you. Only a mind numbing pleasure that swaddled every bit of your flesh, seeping out of your pores.

“You're spoiled.” You tightened around him. “You get everything you want and somehow find it in you to—“ he choked up. “To always ask for more.”

“And I. Give. It. To. You.” He punctuated each word with an even harsher thrust of his hips.

Fisting the sheets, you came around him with a moan and he only thrust into you faster. Giving you everything and more. Just as he’s always done.

He ripped you open and poured into you, giving you everything.

You did the same. Turning over and scratching into his skin, marking him as you mouthed at him relentlessly, burning yourself into him as he imprinted a bruise of his entire body into yours. It was in the varying teeth marks that littered about your body, the bone shattering ache of him inside you that was sure to stay for weeks, the soft scratches of his beard littered around your neck and chest.

You both took and gave until there was nothing left. Until you both could only pant into one another's skin. You savored the warmth that radiated from hi’, from his body, his hands wrapped around you, and the low breath that fanned your neck.

Closing your eyes you held onto the feeling, the moment, because when you opened them again, it would be gone.

Marc stirred awake in silence.

Briskly throwing his body into an upright position, holding a groan through gritted teeth.

He looked down at his bandaged body with a frown.

You did a good job.

How?

He pushed away the uncomfortable thoughts as he meandered through the halls of your home with trepidation. The first few rays of sunshine were still at bay, but they would make their presence known soon.

He had to find you before then. He had to know. He just had to.

If you were this focused on the true matters at hand, you wouldn’t be in this predicament.

Marc ignored Khonshu as he finally made it toward your bedroom.

His bare feet pattered softly on the warm wooden floors that should have been cold.

You had money, so of course they weren’t. Of course you spend money on heated floors to go with your picture perfect estate or mansion or whatever the fuck it was. Your home was larger than life. Your. . . your husband was a part of that.

He was everywhere. He always had been.

But it didn’t matter. It never did.

On the nights you both found your solace away from the creepy crawlies that hid in the shadows and away from the darkest corners of yourselves, your husband’s sweater hanging off your shoulder, it didn’t matter.

When he’d wrap his arms around your waist before turning you around and slipping his tongue into your mouth to taste you over and over again. He would slide his fingers into yours and place your husband’s favorite coffee mug onto the counter before lifting your legs around his waist and carrying you to your bedroom.

It didn’t matter on the times you would ride him and his wedding band would dangle above his nose as you cried out to him.

It did matter that sometimes as you’d lay into one another in a blissful bubble of silence away from the rest of the world, he’d twirl the ring you sometimes wore onto your thumb. It barely fit, so you had to clench your fist to keep it from tumbling onto the ground. Which was why on those days he knew you had never left your house.

Even now as he watched your chest slowly rise and fall as you were curled into a half circle like the moon, you were still laying in bed as if your husband's arms were wrapped around you. The mattress showed a dent of a body that once was but no more.

You slept peacefully save for the furrowing of your brow.

Perhaps you could feel his absence in your dreams.

Licking his lips, Marc placed his knee onto the foot of the bed and crawled his way over to you. Just as he wanted to last night.

Your eyes immediately opened. You kept your head towards him, but he couldn’t help the pain that shot through his chest as your hands searched the sides of the bed, throwing the covers in the process.

“Marc.” His name was wet and heavy in your mouth. Full of things you wanted to say and things you couldn’t.

It was too much. He didn’t want either.

So he placed his hands on either side of you and sealed your lips with his. As his mouth seared across yours, he swallowed your silent tears and your even quieter cries of pain, swallowing them down with his own.

When he pulled away from you for just a moment to rip the foreign sweatpants from his body, his heart swelled at the sight of your naked body.

Your swollen lips, the marks of teeth on you, above the collar of your neck, the one above one around the swell of your breast, your equally swollen and irritated nipples.

He sucked in a sharp breath.

His cheek was wet.

It was one of your tears, had to be.

He ignored it as he placed his mouth above the mark on your neck. You made a strange sound, but he moved to kiss you again.

Chasing you, whatever was left.

You were never his. Not truly, and he was okay with that. He thought he was.

But that was before the shadow of a man was revealed to be a complete one. He could compete with a memory, but the real living and breathing thing?

The fear of what that held consumed him, so instead of wallowing that, he focused on consuming you.

You made him feel whole, but that didn’t mean he still wasn’t the loose fleshy strings of a being that once resembled a man.

So he took what was left of him and placed one of your legs above his shoulders as he laid on his belly.

He moved to kiss you on your thigh the way he knows you like, but he froze, taken back by the littering of teeth marks that lay there.

Blinking, one, two times, without thinking, he placed his tongue, wet and hard, across the deep indentations of teeth before slowly following with the rest of his mouth letting the full plush of his lips wrap around the soft plump skin of your inner thigh.

Your back arched as you made a strangled cry and he pulled back, smiling to himself. It was bitter and crooked.

He wanted to be gentle, but he heard you hiss sharply as he separated the folds with two of his fingers. Wet, swollen, and raw with evidence of another man, you still had a pretty pussy.

He placed a similar slow kiss onto you, giving you everything. Something.

As he greedily memorized the taste of your lips, he ignored the forlorn feeling that rose higher and higher in the deep out of his belly.

The bright light of what you two had didn’t feel so bright anymore, and he didn’t know why. He wanted to ignore it but he couldn’t. Everything was different.

Your hand fisted into his hair and buried himself within you more, plunging two fingers deep within you as if he could pull all the things he felt about you out as if he could become a part of it.

Your hand pulled at his curls even harder, your cries were muffled against his ears because of how your thighs clamped tightly around him.

“Marc.” You strangled out his name once more through a moan.

He plunged another finger in, pushing deeper into you deeper to shut you up.

His revelation complete, you came in his mouth and around his fingers.

Things were different, but you two still needed something from each other. He couldn’t define just what that is or how exactly, but burying his face within you was enough for now. He could do that, but he couldn’t talk to you. Not yet.

Talking was still too much for him.

@megamindsecretlair @nerdieforpedro @venusintheblindspots-blog @notapradagurl7

@sirenaluna @gardenof-venus

Thank you for reading!! Let me know if you wanna be tagged in the next one!!

#Spotify #Jake Johnson x reader #Oscar Isaac x reader #moon knight #MoonKnight #Luke drinking buddies x resder #Michael mythic quest x reader #Jake lockley x reader #Marc Spector x reader #Steven Grant x reader #moon knight system x reader #x black reader #x black fem reader #jake johnson #marvel fanfiction #marvel x black!reader #smut #pwp

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watsittoyah · 1 year

Text

Steven Grant x OC Fem Black reader (Marc later on)

Anchor…

Ch 1-To Being Weirdos

Word Count: 7.6k

Chapter intel- Some slow burn, some flirting, SMUT! MINOR’S DNI! Blood and gore description(later on in chapters). Nyctophobia (an extreme fear of the dark) build up for chapter two

And you think I’m crazy…well that’s not fair…

Ivy’s POV

I wake up already, forgetting whatever dreams that seeped through my unconscious thoughts while I was in slumber and give an obvious yawn.

“Alright Ivy, today’s the day. You got your big girl job, and you are going to have a good day.” I glanced at my flickering nightlight at the foot of the bed, trying to push back the negative thoughts about myself.

You’re 32 years old, why are you still sleeping with a nightlight?

Why are you so afraid of the dark? Grow up.

Fucking loser.

I shut my eyes and try to dash the bad thoughts away.

“Stop, stop, stop!” I then hear the upstairs neighbor walking around and talking on his phone. “Morning, Mum…” I lay there for a while with my eyes closed. Wondering what it would be like, to be normal like him upstairs. “Good morning Gus my little one finned wonder...” His voice seems nice, much better than the voices in my own head.

“Ivy! Time to get up, love.“ My great aunt Milly calls out down the hall. I sigh and cuddle my knees just for a few more minutes before getting up to shower.

•••

I might have been a bit too overzealous on showing up to work. I practically dragged my poor Great Aunt out of the house to bring me here an hour early. Then again, I wanted to check the museum out.

A small statue happens to catch my attention, and I find myself staring into its eyes. They were a dark purple, which reminded me of someone. “Hmm.”

“Will you look at that? Looks like someone mistook the statue of Keket for a rubbish dump.” I snap out of my trance as I hear a familiar voice beside me. That’s when I noticed a wad of gum on the nameplate of the statue.

“Gum shouldn’t be allowed in beautiful places.” I reach into my purse and pull out a disposable napkin and take the minty sticky substance off of the statue.

“Do I detect an American accent? You must be Ivy Hemlock word gets around the museum fast.” The man says that he extends his hand towards me. I give his hand a once over, but I dare not to shake it. “And you are?“ I ask narrowing my eyes at him. “Oh, where are my manners, my name is Steven Grant. I believe you are shadowing me today.“

“Oh! I’m so sorry, my great Aunt Milly tells me to steer clear of men in other countries because you never know if they’re going to kidnap you and then harvest your organs so they could be put on the black market.” He gives me a concerned look and I just realized the words I just spoke out loud.

“Did I mention that my great aunt is senile?” I try to joke. Thankfully he takes the joke and gives a laughs. “Right, aren’t all of our aunts a bit senile?” He gives me a kind smile and I relax my shoulders.

I like his voice, why do I like his voice?

“Stevie, you better not be scaring the new girl. She just got here and I don’t want her picking up your bad habits.” Donna warns as she stops by holding a large amount of boxes.

“Sorry, Donna. I was just introducing myself.” Steven clumsily takes the boxes from Donna and I go to help but she stops me. “Stevie’s got it.”

“Steven, actually. I am…Steven.” He corrects as he places the boxes down in the back room. I look at Steven and he makes me feel like I’m watching a child get verbally abused by a bully.

I cut my eyes at Donna and I want to shove her in a closet and lock her in it.

Like Melissa did to you?

I swallow that bad thought away and continue to listen to the conversation. “No you’re bloody useless. You don’t get paid to chit chat to the new people. You’re here to show her around and then get to work.”

Who shit in her weetabix?

“Got it.” Steven says defeated. Donna leaves us and I chime in. “Is she always like that?

“Like what?”

“A cunt.” Steven gives a chortle which makes me happy.

Why am I happy that he’s happy?

“Don’t let her hear you say that. But yeah, she is a big one if I don’t say so myself. Anyways let’s get you all set up, yeah?” I nod and he shows me around.

The way he speaks about the Egyptian artifacts and gods makes me think he’s been there before. “You really know your stuff huh?” I ask as I glance at a painting that says it was painted to depict what the underworld would look like.

“I love stuff like this. But how about you? Do you like Egyptian gods and whatnot?” I give a nod. “I do, my father was the inspiration for it. I remember he told me he was going to explore the pyramids. It was around the time I was….” The sentence dies in my throat and I quickly change the subject.

“Uh, loois? I mean loo? Bathroom? I’m sorry I need to learn more of the lingo while I’m staying here. I’m sorry.” Steven gives a chuckle.

“Its okay, it’s on the second floor, take a left. And be careful the door likes to stick from time to time.” I give a slight nod and head in the direction he tells me.

As I enter I see a few school girls in the bathroom checking their faces and taking selfies. I don’t think I remember if I was vain like that when I was their age. Then again mirrors always made me jumpy.

I go to the farthest stall and check it over. Once the coast is clear I close the stall door behind me. I then hear the girls all leave, so I do my business. Once I’m done I flush and check my watch.

Just in time for lunch.

I leave the stall and notice that the room is silent, not even the outside noise could be heard. I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I turn on the water to wash my hands.

Get a hold of yourself Ivy. If you do anything out of the ordinary then your coworkers will say you’re crazy just like the last few jobs.

And you’d hate to break your great aunts heart after she had pulled some strings to get you into the place.

One of the stall doors slowly opens and I see a hand slink into the stall. “I think my hands are washed enough, I can air dry them.” I say as I wipe my hands on my slacks. I turn to the exit and feel cold breathe against my neck.

Ivy…

I shut my eyes and clench my fists together.

Ivy…

“Leave me alone.” I whisper as I feel frozen in fear.

Ivy…

I feel my nails breaking the skin of my palms and I try to walk forward.

But the voice then slowly turns into a demonic low growl.

Ivy…

IVY!

I wait for the calm to take place, but it never comes. I slowly open my eyes and the bathroom lights began to dim. Which caused a panic in my chest.

I turn and there in the corner of my eye, the stall door opens, and like a horror movie I tall black figure slink out. It’s joints moving in the opposite direction. It makes direct eye contact with me and if I hadn’t already used the bathroom I would have definitely pissed and shit myself.

It suddenly reaches for me and I fall back hitting the doorknob at my back. I then let out the loudest blood curdling scream I could muster. The mirrors all seem to bow inward making the creatures reflection look like a strange funhouse attraction.

“Someone open the door! Please! Let me out of here!” I yank and tug at the door but it’s not budging. I can feel the entity reach out to me and I scream louder praying to whatever God to answer me.

Just then the door flies open and before I could thank my savior I push past them and fall flat on my ass. When I look back I see Steven and I see the entity staring sadly at me by his shoulder. I scream and my fist shoots out. My knuckle hit his cheek.

I ignore the pain to my knuckles and I bring my knees to my chest. Everyone was staring as I started crying. “It’s in the bathroom! Its after me! Its after me!” I sob out as I rock back and forth.

“Ivy? Ivy? Look at me.” I look past his shoulder and the entity was gone.

Great everyone at work knows I’m crazy…

•••

Donna had let me take my break early. And I was sitting crossed legged on a bench with my sad excuse of a sandwich and my hand wrapped. Looking down and having flashes of what I saw an hour ago made me lose my appetite. God I just want to crawl into my bed with all the lights on and never leave.

“That’s looks good. What kind of sandwich is that?” I hear Steven’s voice but I don’t look up. “You don’t have to talk to me. I know everyone thinks I’m crazy.” I feel him sit next to me which makes me scoot away from him.

“I don’t think that.” I look up at him through angry tears. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Steven.” I say with as much venom in my tone. He puts his hands up to let me know he comes in peace. “I’m not lying. I don’t think you’re mad. You seemed like you saw something in there. What was it?” He gives a quizzical look and as I open my mouth to tell him what I saw, I stop.

He’s going to laugh at you like the others.

Insane Ivy strikes again.

I close my mouth and shake my head. “Ivy, I don’t know what you think about me, but I do want to be friends. I don’t have many of them, and many people here see me as a weirdo. So how about we be weirdo’s together?”

Okay he is terrible at cheering people up. Which is why I can’t understand why am I laughing?

“You know you suck at this.” I say through a few tearful laughs. He smiles at me and I look at my chewed cuticles. “You’ll probably think I’m dumb but I saw something in the bathroom. It was like this talk gangly thing…” I glance over at him and he seemed to actually be listening to me.

“…the way it moved, it reminded me of a zombie or something. It just…scared me.” I say in a soft voice. “I believe you.” My head snaps up at him so fast I almost give myself whiplash. “You do? Why?” He shrugs. “I don’t have a reason not to believe you. And besides you give a mean left hook so why would I argue with you?” He says as I glance at his swollen cheek.

“I’m so sorry about that. I didn’t mean to hit you.” I reach into my bag and pull out a cooling pack. “Maybe this will help?”

I snap it and it instantly gets cold. He accepts my offering and places it in his cheek. He winced in pain and I feel guilty. “We can be weirdos together.” I mutter after a few moments of silence.

“Really?” He asks almost in shock that I would accept his friendship. “I don’t have any friends. And besides my dad and Aunt Milly, you’re the only other person who believes me. So thank you for that.” I take a bite of my now soggy sandwich and swallow down the dry roast beef my great aunt had attempted to make.

Next time I’ll cook. This tastes like cardboard.

“Well if you ever want to hang out, you can give me a buzz.” He reaches into his pocket and takes out a phone. I realize what he’s doing and my lips form a large O. Last time I got a number from someone who wanted to be my friend, they told me to delete them after I made a scene at their party.

I punch in my number and save it under Ivy in his phone. I call myself and I see his number pop up on my screen. “To being weirdos.” He says with a winced smile.

Did I mention how much I like his voice?

•••

“Hi dad.” I place a fresh bouquet of flowers on his grave and sit down. “Last night Great Aunt Milly made roast beef, I had to suffer in silence and choke it down. But you already know she’s a terrible cook.” I laugh at the memories of how my dad would get food poisoning whenever we came to London for the holidays and spend them with with Great Aunt Milly. She’s the reason I question grilled cheese.

“Oh! And I got a new night light. That’s isn’t new uh, I got a job. I’m actually surprised I still have it. Because…” I look at his headstone.

Henry Hemlock. A husband, father, explorer. Gone too soon. 1958-2019

“It reached to me, dad. This thing was something from my nightmares and it scared the hell out of me…Because you’re not here…Dad I miss you. You…you were the only one who could keep the things that went bump in the night away. I miss your vo-please! Please if this is one of your jokes, it was funny for the past few years but I need you. Daddy I need you. I need my anchor back.” The tears fall from my eyes and down the back of my throat.

I try to keep the ugly tears back but I fail miserably. I curl up next to his headstone and just cry hard. “I miss you…”

•••

I get the dirt off of my jeans as I slowly walk up the the apartment steps. I hear steps coming down and I look up and see-

“Steven?” He had his phone to his ear and his brows were pinched together. “Ivy? What are you doing here?”

I quickly explain myself before my only friend thinks I’m stalking him.

“My Great Aunt Milly, she lives here and I’m staying with her.” His face softens then. “I’m sorry Mum, one moment please. Well then hello neighbor.”

“Hello, sorry if I’m bothering you.” He shakes his head. “No, no. Never a bother. But what floor are you on?”

“Uh the third floor, you?”

“The fourth floor. Sorry if I’m a bit loud up there.” That’s when it hits me. “Wait! That was you? You’re the neighbor I hear every morning talking to his mother-”

“Ivy? Can you come taste this-oh hello there.” Great Aunt Milly says at the top of the steps. “Hello, Miss Hemlock.” Steven greets. “Please dear, call me Milly. Ivy he’s quite handsome isn’t he?”

“Okay, Steven I’ll see you later, Aunt Milly please let’s get inside before you set-oh god! What are you burning?” I run past Steven and past Aunt Milly to find she was making some terrifying concoction. “AUNT MILLY! WHAT IS THIS!?”

•••

It’s been a month and I think Aunt Milly is trying to set me up with Steven. However I keep reminding her that he’s just a really good friend.

“He seems so nice and sweet. Maybe we should invite the lad over.” I was fixing my braids into a high bun in the mirror and I roll my eyes at her suggestion. “Aunt Milly we want Steven to live to see the next day.”

“Then get take away.” I suck my teeth and I turn jumping as I see the old lady standing there. Strangely Aunt Milly looked…older. Her wrinkles seem to kiss her dark skin. Which made it look like a trusty black leather couch that’s been around for over 100 years.

I cock my head to the side because honestly I have no clue how old Aunt Milly was, she’s just always looked old.

“I won’t be around forever, Ivy-“

Here we go again, Aunt Milly telling me about how she isn’t going to live long. But this woman is going to outlive God himself.

I place my hands on her shoulders. “Aunt Milly, you don’t need to worry about me. I’m going to live with you forever. But I get it you want me to be happy. How about I go on a date? You know Tom? He asked me out, I was going to say no but now I’ll go. For you okay?” She smiles at me and cups my face in her hands.

“Ivy, I just want you to be happy. You haven’t been the same since the incident. And I miss that smile.” I fake one and she swats me on the ass. “Don’t be cheeky, little minx. Now go get ready for work. You’ll miss the bus. And don’t forget you have a session with Dr. Pence.” I kiss her cheek and hug her.

She smells like dad, cinnamon and sage. “Okay, I’m going. I’m going. Love you Milly.” I call over my shoulder as I grab my purse and lunch bag.

I stand at the bus stop and peek down the road to see if Steven was coming. I heard him this morning on the phone with his mother.

“Must be nice.” I mumble as the double decker wheels around the corner. Once it stops I take a step and glance to see Steven running for the bus. I stand there as the driver gives me an annoyed look but I don’t care.

Friends don’t leave friends behind.

He catches up moments later, winded and gives me a smile. “Good morning neighbor.” I say with a cheerful smile. “Good morning neighbor.” He says back. I had managed to get us a seat in the corner and he let me have the window seat.

He gives a yawn and shakes his head. “Sorry, just a bit tired.” I can see he has dark circles and bags under his eyes. Almost like he hadn’t slept in days. Come to think about it I haven’t heard him on the phone with his mother or foot steps above me for the past few days.

“It’s okay, I’m just happy to hold the bus for you. I have some good news. Remember Tom?”

“Tom…Tom from security?”

“Yeah, he asked me out. I think I’m gonna say yes.” This makes Steven give me an odd look. “Be careful with that one, he has a reputation with the ladies.” My ears perk up. “Like what?” I ask as I lean in. He does the same, which gives a whiff of his aftershave.

He smells like winter pine. And has his lashes alway been this long?

Ivy focus!

“A few of the ladies at the front desk have said he can get too touchy if you know what I mean.”

“I can handle him, Steven. I had hit you and you turned out fine. Wait no that is a terrible joke. You shouldn’t hit people.”

We both laugh and he taps his knee. “Well I got a date Friday night. With Dylan, we’re going to a steak house.” It was my turn to give him a look. “Aren’t you vegan? What are you going to a steak house for?”

“I don’t know, Ivy. Bread, salad. All I know is that she thinks I’m cute and I’m happy.”

“Well of course you’re cute. You’d be stupid to think you’re not.” I feel Steven looking at me from the corner of my eyes but I turn my head to look out the window.

Nope, we’re gonna ignore what I said…

•••

It’s finally Sunday and I was dressed up for the big date. I wonder how Steven’s date had went.

Why are you worried about his date, Ivy? Worry about yours.

“Aunt Milly can you help me zip this dress please?” I ask her as I try to find my other earring. I had on a jade green dress that made my dark tan skin look like royalty. My jewelry was gold which made me look flawless.

She helps me zip up the dress and I feel something cold slide on my finger. I look down and see Aunt Milly placed an odd ring on my finger.

“What’s this?” I ask turning to her. “Just an old family heirloom. It belonged to your mother.” I look down at the ring and admire it.

“My mother?” One thing about my father, he avoided talking about my mother at all costs. Whenever I asked about her he would just change the subject or tell me that he would tell me all about her when I got older.

“What was she like? What did she look like? Do you have any photos of her?” I bombard her with questions and she gives a whimsical laugh. “Dear, I will tell you all about her when you get back from your date, now don’t stay out too long. Stay safe and please put on a jacket.” I lean down and she kisses my head and I sigh. “Guess you’re coming with me mom.” I whispers to the ring as I head out the door.

Three hours later…

Maybe he’s just running late. Maybe he got caught up in traffic and…

“Miss, the kitchen will be closing soon.” The waiter says to me. I had crumbled a napkin in my lap and I look at my phone. Tom hadn’t answered my calls or my text messages.

“Right, can I have your biggest container of ice cream to go please? And a slice of-make it two slices of chocolate cake.”

I manage to ask without crying. My tears stain my dress and I hope that maybe as the waiter gets my order that Tom will somehow appear and apologize a million times about being so late.

I take an Uber back home and put on the biggest fake smile I can gather. “Thank you for tonight Tom.” I yell as I unlock the door. I kick off my heels and lock the door behind me. “Aunt Milly?” I call out to her. But I get no response. I do hear her tv on low. When I walk into the living room she was laying there with her eyes closed.

I walk over to her and pull the quilt over her little body. “How was the date?” I jump hearing her ask as her eyes were still closed. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph. You scared me! The date was great, we had drinks, and steak-“

“Don’t lie to me, I always know when you’re lying, Ivy Dorthy Hemlock.” I hate when she uses my full name, makes me feel like I’m four years old and I’m in big trouble. “What’s wrong?” All she did was ask that two word question and I broke down dropping my leftovers.

“He..he stood me up.” She gets up and pulls me onto her lap. “Oh love, it’s alright. These things happen. Why I remember when my date first stood me up. It was back in…well way back when.”

“What did you do about it?”

“I walked up to his brand new Chevy and I smashed all the windows out with a brick.” I snort on my tears and we both end up laughing.

Aunt Milly and I sat down watching Jeopardy while she parted and greased my scalp. “What is 101 Dalmatians?” I guess. And I was correct. “You need to go on this show, Ivy. You’d win it all I know it.” I shrug hand her some more grease for my scalp.

“Aunt Milly can you tell me about my mother now?” In the way she moved her hands I can tell she’s hesitating.” I look up at her and she gives a big sigh. “That serious?” I ask.

“Your mother…was like no other woman. Powerful force when she entered the room, and that room was filled with her enemies. Tsk, before I tell you more will you bring these to that lovely boy, he’s in apartment 444.” I frown because I know she’s stalling.

“Who’s in that apartment?” She gets up and walks to the kitchen to bring back a plate covered in saran wrap. “That lovely lad, Steven. I’ve been feeding his goldfish when he leaves on some days.”

How close are Aunt Milly and Steven?

She hands me the plate before I can protest and and starts pushing me out the door. “What is it?” I ask trying to peek. “Cookies, I baked them my self.” I stop in my tracks. “I’m not giving him this. You’re going to commit a murder with these disks of death.”

“You little she devil.” She pinched the fat on my arm and did a twist causing me to yelp. “Ouch! Old lady that hurt!”

“Go bring him the cookies or I’ll force them down your little throat.”

“Yes ma’am.” I know better than to eat her food, I don’t wanna die. Sorry Steven, better you than me. I slide on my sneakers and make my way up to his apartment.

“Old lady got a mean ass grip. I should throw these at her head.” I mumble in a huff as I move my hair out of my face. When I get to Steven’s door, I knock and wait a moment.

“I probably saved your life if you don’t answer.” Which I was hoping he wouldn’t so I can grill Aunt Milly about my mother.

I tuck the death disks under my arm, ready to retreat down the steps but I hear the door open. Right there stood a sad sap, who happened to be Steven.

“You got some smuck on the corner of your face.” I point out. “Sorry, it’s chocolate. Uh come in, come in.” He ushers me in as he wipes his face clean. I look around his place and it looked so cluttered. Then again I’ve seen worse. “Sorry for the mess, I’ve been meaning to tidy up a bit.” I shake my head.

“No it’s fine I was just dropping by. Aunt Milly wanted you to have this, but toss it. Trust me, you don’t want to eat that…wait, what’s wrong?” He looked like he was on the verge of tears. “I don’t know really. Remember the date I was supposed to have?”

“The date you had Friday?” He gives me a gutted look as if I just told him his dog died. “Bullocks, she’s never going to talk to me. What day is it?”

“Sunday…” He then sit down on a stool with his face in his hands, and I kneel in front of him as I hear him about to cry.

“Hey, whatever happened it’s going to be OK. How about we get fat off of some ice cream. We can talk about how crappy our dates are if that’ll make you feel better.”

Steven looks up at me wiping his tears. “What happened? Did he? Did he try anyth-“ I stop him right there because I can see him getting angry. Which was weird to see.

“No nothing happened. In fact Tom never showed up. But hey maybe it wasn’t meant to be. So what do you say wanna humor this freak and eat some junk?”

Steven gives a smile which honestly makes me want to call him beautiful.

“Yeah, us weirdos got to stick together, you know. I got some ice cream in the fridge. I hope you like chocolate.”

“Love it, let me help you. Oh do you have sprinkles? The rainbow kind? Those are my favorite topping for ice cream.”

“Mine too, they’re in the top cupboard on the left.” He tells me. We scoop ice cream into some bowls and start talking about different subjects.

Like how Steven wanted to bring his mom down during his vacation. He told me he wanted me to meet her. I told him that when I get enough money I would go through my fathers bucket list and do everything he wanted to do. He gave me a smile and I swoon.

Were his eyes always this brown?

We were on his couch just talking and I hardly notice how close our knees are touching. Or how his hand keeps bumping against my wrist when he tells me an excited story.

I grow quiet as I let him talk and my thoughts get a bit, not so innocent.

I watch his tongue and as he licks his lips. I wonder what other things he’d like to lick. Maybe my neck…

Or my bottom lip…

I can picture his tongue dipping into my belly button just to tease me…

And finally I can picture his tongue flicking across my cl-

“Ivy? Hello earth to Ivy.” I snap out of my fantasies and clear my throat. “Sorry, for spacing out. That was rude.”

“It’s fine, sometimes I space out. Then again I black out sometimes and that’s not really fun.”

“Steven.” I place my half eaten bowl of ice cream down on his table and turn to him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure anything, Ivy. Ask away.” I take a calm breathe, because this can go two ways, he could reject me and I have to go into witness protection for the rest of my life, or we both can get lucky.

“Can you close your eyes for me?” I ask. He then puts his empty bowl down on the table. “Uh, sure. Not sure why you’d want me to do that but fine. Fine, I’ll do it.” He closes his eyes and I let out a breathe I didn’t know I was holding.

Here goes nothing.

I lean in and kiss him, which causes him to move back and I stop. But we were both wide eyed with barely an inch between us.

I was the first one to stand up. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave.” As I walk I feel a gentle tug on my shirt. “Don…don’t go. You just surprised me, is all. I just can’t believe someone as beautiful as you would want to kiss me.” I give him a puzzled frown.

“Steven, I meant what I said the other day on the bus. You’d be stupid if you didn’t think you were cute. Then again you’re more than cute, when you smile you face…light up like the moon. Your voice it-no. Nope, I’m not going there. Just please know I’ll understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore.”

“Why in the bloody hell would I want to stop being your friend? I like you.” My heart skips hearing him confess that to me. I look down and see he’s still holding onto my shirt.

“Maybe I’m a bit heart broken over the date or maybe it’s a sugar high from all the ice cream I’ve had tonight but, do you want to kiss me? If not reject me so I can move on.” I force out a laugh but he wasn’t laughing.

Instead he tugs me forward and I follow. He looks up at me and those brown eyes seem to hide something dark in them.

“I would like to kiss you, very much.” My body leans in and I feel my legs doing their own thing. I straddle his legs and I reach up cupping his face.

His gorgeous face, how does this man not find himself attractive?

I rub my thumbs across his stubbled face and he closes his eyes. If I had a camera right now I would snap a picture of this man.

I pause for a moment and just study his face. His lashes seem to kiss his cheeks, the wrinkles on his face, looks like road maps that I want to explore. His fussy raven curly hair, falls on his face and I lean down, kissing where the curls fall.

I hear a soft groan escape his lips and his hands travel from my shirt to the curve on my hips. I kiss down his beautiful face and with each kiss he lets out a groan.

When my lips finally meet his, I feel one of his hands travel up my spine and rest on the nape of my neck. “Is this okay?” He asks just a few centimeters from my lips. “It’s perfect.” I lean down and our lips meet. It’s no surprise he tastes like chocolate ice cream.

But what does surprises me is how erotic the noises he’s making. I want to explore his body and make him whimper for me, maybe even beg.

God Ivy don’t be such a sadist.

I test the waters and slide my tongue in, he invites me in and I feel him suck. Which causes a moan leaving my lips as well. I feel a bulge bump between my legs and I adjust myself so I can feel it.

I slowly press and move against Steven and we both let out a moan when I hit the right spot. With one swift motion he lifts me up and pins my back down on the couch. His lips leave mine and I feel a bit dizzy from the lack of air.

“You’re stunning, Ivy. Absolutely stunning.” He whispers as he moves a strand of my hair out of my eyes. He then leans back down, kissing and sucking my bottom lip.

I want him to make more noises for me so I take my hand and find my way to his belt. The jingle of his belt was faint but the sound of the zipper could have awakened the dead.

I feel him stiffen on top of me but I take that chance and slide my hand into his pants. It’s warm and his skin feels hot. I find the head of his cock and it was sticky.

“Bloody fucking hell.” Steven hisses as I see his eyes roll back. I run my thumb over the head and he moans. He felt thick, at least in my hand he did.

I slowly stroke him and I watch his body obey my movements. His hips move a bit and I grip him slightly. A whine passes his lips as his hips start moving faster. I feel more of his sticky precum against the palm of my hand and I lick my lips. “Steven.” I whisper his name and he opens his eyes looking down at me.

I move my hand from his pants and I lick his precum off of my palm. He bites his bottom lip and I pull him down so he can taste himself on my tongue.

His knees somehow pins my legs apart and I’m trying to not squirm under him, but I need friction. “Can I taste you? Please can I taste you? I just know you taste like sweets.” He begs as he rubs his knee between my thighs.

I nod quickly and he fumbles trying to get into my pants. He then slides his two thick fingers into my panties. I grab his hand and guide him to slide them inside of me. “Oh my god.” He could fuck me with his fingers and I would be satiated. But I know I’ll want more once his digits are no longer touching my g-spot.

He curls his fingers in a come here motion and my body jerks abruptly. How does he know how to do that?

Steven isn’t some goofball…

He is but right now, he’s a man who can fulfill my greatest desires.

He takes his thumb and it rolls over my clit causing my walls to tighten around him. “Please.” I moan out to him. A dark shadow seems to pass over his eyes, but he blinks and it’s just Steven in a lust drunk state.

“Help me with these.” He says as he tugs at the waist band of my sweatpants. He removes his hand then and he sucks his middle and index finger. His eyes flutter close as he greedily suck his fingers clean. He sits up and I lift my ass so that I can rip off my sweats. He helps me and when he gets a hold of them they go flying across the room.

We both look when they land and I let out a giggle. He looks back at me chuckling but that stops when he sees I’m soaked between my legs. I watch him get on his knees and he then licks his lips. Steven looks up at me through his lashes as if to ask me permission. I slowly open my legs wider for him and I suck on my bottom lip as I spread the lips as well.

He looks like he’s in pain, almost as if he doesn’t get to taste me he’ll die. I feel his elbows dip down near my thighs and I feel his fingers curl inside of me once more. He leans down and he flattens his tongue against my cunt.

With his tongue he massages my lips and clit all at once which makes my toes curl and my fingers entwine in his messy hair. His stubble tickles my lower lips and I lean my head back feeling in bliss while he eats me out.

If this was his first time, he’s doing one hell of a great job. I look back down at him and he’s looking up at me. I let go of his hair and touch his face. “Steven, did I e…ever tell you, you have such pretty eyes. Oh yes. You have such pretty eyes, please don’t stop looking at me with those pretty ey-" He doesn’t break eye contact but he does twirl his tongue hum at the same time.

I spread my legs wider which makes him grip my right thigh for dear life. His grip is a bit painful but his mouth makes me ignore it. He pulls me closer to him as if I’m his final meal of the night and he wants to make sure he licks the plate clean.

I stutter out gibberish and rock my hips in motion to his rhythm. His fingers does quicker come here motions and I feel the sensation that I’ve been craving.

My breathing becomes quicker, as I watch his now free hand move in his pants. My eyes are hungry to continue to watch but my orgasm hits me hard as I stutter out that I’m going to cum.

He encourages me to do so but doesn’t slow down or get faster. His fingers spread my inner lips apart and as soon as his tongue slides inside of me my legs tense up and I pull his head deeper. He moans and slurps as I come on his tongue.

His glorious tongue.

I shake out one more orgasm and my swollen clit was extremely sensitive. But that doesn’t stop Steven. He gives it a few lazy licks and I try to close my legs. “S..ste…Steven. St..s..stop!” He moves away from me licking his lips and I see his chin was wet from my juices.

“Knew you tasted good.” He whispers as he looks back between my legs. I stop him before I’m at the mercy of his mouth again and ask.

“Do…do you have any condoms?” Steven looks past his shoulder and then back at me. “No, sorry I’m afraid I don’t have any.” I groan but sit up, moving my jelly like legs. I almost stumble but Steven nabs me before I could fall. When I look in his eyes I see panic.

“Where are you going? Was I that bad?” I then realized my mistake and mentally kick myself.

Don’t just leave you idiot, he might think he didn’t please you enough (which how could he not know how good of a job he did?) and it makes you look like you’re just using him.

I touch his cheek and the panic subsides. “I’m just running downstairs really quicks, I have condoms in my drawer. And you did an amazing…amazing job.” I say as I look at his still wet chin. I lean over and give him another kiss to reassure him. When I move back he looked happier than a fish in a new fishbowl.

“Right condoms. I should start carry those if we’re gonna do stuff like this again. If you want to do this again. I would like to do this aga-”

“I would like to do this again, and many more times. Now you have to let me go.” Only then he notices that he’s holding me tight. He loosens his grip and I take a step back from him.

I start looking for my sweatpants he had flung by his bed and see they were peeking out from the foot of it. When I go to grab them I notice a black rope. When I pick it up I see a restraint attached to it.

“That-” I hold a hand up cutting him off. “We’ll talk about this when I get back.” I shake my legs through the tangled fabric of my sweatpants and once they’re finally on I look back at him as I head to his door. “I’ll be back quickly. Okay.” I reassure him again. He nods and I hurry down the steps.

Hell I’m taking three at a time. I go to open the door but notice that I didn’t leave Aunt Milly’s door ajar.

“Aunt Milly?” I call out to her and I expect her to be laying on the couch. “Aunt Milly?” I call out once more. The room was silent except for a dripping noise. I follow it but get this chill on the back of my neck.

I don’t like this.

I think to myself as my foot steps begin to slow down.

“Aunt…” I don’t know why I didn’t notice, why I didn’t smell it. But I look down and see my once grey sneakers where now turning maroon.

Blood.

My heart began to slam against my chest as all my senses scream at me.

I should run, I should get the hell out of here and get help.

But my feet wouldn’t listen. I know the dripping is from her. My sweet Aunt Milly.

I hear something move behind me and the lights start to flicker which makes me flinch. I don’t want to turn around because-

I hear shallow breathing and my head turns to the dark corner of the apartment. Right there I see a creature that looked like an oversized dog.

Before I could scream it l lunged at me. Thankfully I was quick and I ducked down causing it to crash into the wall above me. I go to run but my right foot slips from under me.

I scramble as the creature snaps its killer jaws just inches from my leg. I take off and slam the door behind me.

I couldn’t push a scream out of my lungs, my body was in flight mode and I ran, hearing the door explode behind me. It was gaining on me as I ran my hardest up the stairs to Steven’s apartment.

I slam my body into his door and thankfully he didn’t lock it. I get inside and slam it locking the door quickly. Steven ran over to me but stops when he sees I’m covered in blood.

My voice finally emerges but it all sounds like another language. “Ivy, Ivy slow down. I can barely understand you. What happened?”

“She’s d..dead. It got her! I..it…ahhh! Ahhhh! Ahhhh!”

It all happened in a blur. The police questioning me, over and over again. Steven telling them that I’m a mess and can’t answer.

“Sir I understand that she’s in shock, but we need to know what happened. That apartment is a crime scene and her alibi is the only thing keeping her from being the suspect….”

I watch the body bag that held my aunt and my breathe leaves my body. “She’s gone.” I whisper causing Steven to steer me away from the EMT’s.

As he rubs the small of my back I look up at him and the shock suddenly hits me causing my legs to give out from under me.

He catches me before I could fall, I stare at the ceiling for a moment and when I blink I see a beautiful woman with starry night skin. She smiled at me which caused her dark purple eyes to smile as well.

She leans in close to my face and I feel my eyes roll back until all I can see is darkness. But this darkness I didn’t fear, it was comforting to me.

Ivy…

Come find me.

The woman’s voice rings in my ears.

And before I knew it, I had passed out in Steven’s arms…

TO BE CONTINUED…

A/N

Before I continue this story was not only inspired by the amazing show moon knight but inspired by a fear I had as a child. Sometimes I find myself not too fond of the dark, and yet I embrace it from to time. Also this story will include some names of Egyptian gods and goddesses, they are in my interpretation. So I want to apologize in advance. If you wish to not read this story I understand.

If this do continue to read this story please don’t forget to like and share this with your friends. I’ll update again in two week. Or when my lazy ass doesn’t procrastinate. Laters Gators 🐊

#watsittoyah #marvel #oscar issac #oscar issac moonknight #moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #x black reader #moon knight smut #khonshu #stevengrantxblackreader #marc spector x black reader #oscar issac hernandez estrada

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blackmissfrizzle · 2 years

Text

Les Séparés

Characters: Steven Grant x black!reader, a little bit of Marc Spector x black!reader & Jake Lockely x black!reader

Summary: After a bad day at work, Steven finds a way to relax his girlfriend

Warnings: Smut, brief mentions of violence

A/N: Here's more of my works and if you want to be tagged click here. Also it was barley edited so don't mind the mistakes.

When it came to you and your food you didn’t play. It was in everyone’s best interest for you to eat before a disaster happened. However, today you didn’t mind.

Walking parallel to him a little ways across the room, so you could listen but not intrude on the children’s field trip, you listened to Steven give his tour.

You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. He was so confident, more in control. So much different than the cashier at the gift shop when you first met him.

It was the end of the tour and of course you had to go to the gift shop. As soon as you entered, you connected eyes with the clerk. He was a bit disheveled, but it fit him. Kinda like in a Spencer Reid kind of way.

You gave him a small smile. In return you received a smile while he tried to lean against the counter coolly. Unfortunately, he miscalculated his footing and ended up falling over.

Your friends laughed at the poor man. You smacked both of them. “Stop being mean.”

Talia covered her mouth and mumbled an apology while Kat couldn't stop. “I’m sorry, he’s just so awkward. Poor thing looks like Goob. He makes me want to take a nap.”

Tired of your friend making fun of the poor man, you stomped on her foot. “You don’t know what he’s going through.” You harshly whispered at her and then stomped away to go help the man.

He was so focused on the paperweights; he didn’t notice you helping him until the both of you reached for the same one. “Um, oh,” Steve stumbled over his words. On the regular, he was always stumbling over his words, but now with someone as beautiful as you in his face he couldn’t remember the English language. “W-wou-wo-would you like one?” It’s the Pyramid of Khafre.”

Actually, you wanted one with an Egyptian god, but his excitement and pure passion wouldn’t let you interrupt him. His confidence soared as went on with this subject. He was definitely a cuter version of Spencer Reid.

“So, this one was built for Pharoh Khafre, son of Khufu, which his tomb is the Great Pyramid of Giza.” He went on and on about facts that you would not normally obtain but seeing this stranger so happy made you happy. Being in his presence was like standing in the sun.

Some rude ass blonde, most likely his boss interrupted the lesson he was giving you and ordered him to restock and checked some people out. Somehow you followed him around, asking him to give you some more tidbits.

Soon your friends were ready to leave, but you weren’t. “Thank you, Steven I wish could hear some more.”

Steven was frantic. He may not have experience with women, but he was almost positively sure you were flirting with him. “Ask her out stupid. She clearly wants to be around you more for whatever reason. Just don’t invite her to your house, that’s not a date.” Marc suggested. He watched the whole interaction. Quite frankly, he was surprised Steven held his own. Even he would’ve been nervous with those siren eyes on him.

“Shut up, I know what a date is.” Steven hissed.

You looked to where Steven was staring at and couldn’t figure out who he was talking to? “Huh?”

Steven ran his fingers through his unruly curls, attempting to find courage. Ten simple words. He could do it. He’s been talking to you all night. What’s the difference now? She liked you and not Marc. This was his finally his chance for a genuine connection. “Um- wou- um,” His eyes darted everywhere. He could see your friends at the door, snickering at him.

“Do it, you idiot before she becomes uninterested.” A deeper, more annoying voice yelled at him.

Not only did Steven had Marc in his head, but now he had Khonsu yelling at him too. It was so loud in his head, he didn’t know he was yelling. “WOULD YOU LIKE TO GO ON A DATE WITH ME?!” That caught the attention of everyone in the gift shop. Great, now they could get front row seats of him getting rejected.

You couldn’t help but giggle. His nervousness was cute. Nodding your head, you gave him a shy smile. “I would love to. Here’s my number.” You gave have one last wave and left with your friends.

Steven picked up the piece of paper and held it close to his chest. Maybe things were finally looking up for him.

Your flashback to your first meeting with Steven was interrupted by the preteens asking a bunch of questions. It was a true testament to Steven’s transformation. At the beginning of the tour, those kids looked like they would rather be in school than at the museum, but now they were asking him questions faster than he could answer them.

“And that’s how Osiris became King of the Underworld.” The children clapped. They wanted more, but their teachers ushered them into the gift shop.

Once the last child left his area, he ran/walked to you and scooped you up in his arms. “My beautiful girl.” It never failed, Steven always complimented you when he greeted you.

“And here’s my handsome lead tour guide.” You scratched his beard, making him lean into your hand. He was always this soft with you. He never raised his voice to you in anger. Steven always made you feel safe.

He led you out to the outdoor courtyard. “Hungry, my love?” He set out the food before you, already knowing your answer. “You could’ve eaten without me.”

“No! Lunch is not the same without you.” You hugged his arm and then kissed his cheek. “Never suggest anything so stupid.”

Steven chuckled as he spread out the lunch. “Sorry, love.” He fed a strawberry to you. His own hunger was forgotten as he tried to satisfy yours first.

“Eat.” You pushed some food towards Steve.

The two of you sat contently as you enjoyed lunch. Too bad it went by too fast. Per usual, you got caught up in Steven’s new lesson.

It was hard to part, but somehow you pulled away from him. “I’ll cook tonight.” You scratched his beard while you kissed him.

“Okay, love. Laters gators.” He kissed you through your car window once more and watched you drive off. “I’m one lucky man.”

Dinner was off the schedule. Your coworker pissed you off. That bitch really had the nerve to tell someone not to do a favor for you when you just did a favor for her the other day. The audacity of this bitch. It really ruined the rest of your day. As soon you got home, you poured yourself some wine and waited for Steven. Right when he walked in you began venting.

“And that’s the last time I’m helping her lazy ass.” It felt good to offload all of that. You felt lighter, ignorant to your surroundings or otherwise you would’ve noticed the switch.

The chilling air was the first clue before the New York accent. “One conversation is all I need.”

You shook your head, pinching your eyebrows. “Jake, then why are you holding a knife?”

He looked at you and then the offending weapon and then back at you and shrugged. “It’s my emotional support knife.”

Jake’s unhinged eyes left, and Marc’s concerned ones popped up. “You don’t know the meaning of conversation. I’ll talk with her.”

“First of all, Jake, why doesn’t it surprise me you have an emotional support knife. And second of all, mates none of us will be having a conversation with the shrew. YN can handle this.”

A smile crept up on your face. Steven was so supportive of you. You stroke his face. “Thank you, baby.”

Steven leaned into your touch. “Okay, mates no more interruptions from you two.” His focus returned to you. “I got the perfect thing to make you feel better.”

“What?” You played with his bouncy curls.

Steven’s choice of relaxation was reading a book of poetry as he massaged your feet while you drank some wine. Though, it only worked for some time.

Instead of being relaxed, you were horny and revved up. Steven’s curls kept falling, so every once in a while, he would push them up, making you jealous it wasn’t your fingers. Constantly, pushing them back, must have gotten on his nerves because he put his glasses-your new favorite accessories of his- on top of his head. To torture you even further, he scratched his beard making you focus on his lips. The lips that were on you for endless hours bringing you multiple orgasms a couple of nights ago. Oh, and that beard you left you soaking. Yeah, you weren’t going to be able to focus until you got some relief.

Every once in a while, Steven would kiss your foot, but his focus was on the book. Luckily you had a gown on so your movements wouldn’t alert him.

Your hands roamed your body slowly. Each brush you pretended was Steven’s hand and not yours. You reached your flowing destination just as Steven began reading in French. Great. This man was gonna be the death of you. Every word he spoke turned you into a bigger ball of horniness.

You did your best to stay quiet and not distract Steven, but everything felt too good for you not to vocalize it. “Oh my god, Steven.” You sucked your own nipple, trying to recreate the sensation Steven perfected.

“What’s wrong, Love?” Sometimes Steven could be so oblivious. It was frustrating and cute at the same time.

“Need…you.” You were able to pant out.

His eyes had to be deceiving him. Were you really touching yourself as he read to you? He slid his glasses down to their proper place. “Oh baby,” he licked his lips. “Why didn’t you stop me?”

“Your voice…it makes me so damn wet.”

A bit of panic soared through you when he set the book down. “No!” Quickly, you put your foot between the book and the couch. “Keep reading.”

He wanted to put his all in pleasing you, but whatever princess wants, princess gets. With his right forearm, he held down the book while his left hand explored your valley of treasure.

For someone who could be as awkward as Steven one would think he possessed no rhythm. Granted a few months ago that would’ve been true, but not now. The cadence of his words matched the movement of his fingers.

At this point you didn’t know what was turning you on more, his voice or his fingers. Naturally Steven’s voice was a bit higher than you used to prefer, but oh- when he reads. He reaches this beautiful deep timber, that you could feel in your bones and most importantly your pussy.

Do not write. I am sad and would like to fade away.

The fine summers without you are nights without light.

I have folded my arms unable to reach you;

And to knock at my heart is to beat on my grave.

Do not write.

Do not write. Let us learn only to die in ourselves

Ask only of God… of yourself, whether I loved you.

In the depths of your absence, to hear that you love me

Is to be hearing from heaven without ever ascending.

Do not write.

Do not write. I am fearful of you and afraid of my memory

That has kept your voice and calls to me often;

Do not show me the water that cannot be drunk

For your cherished writing brings your portrait alive.

Do not write.

Do not write those sweet words that I dare not read any more.

It seems that your voice spreads them over my heart

And, as I see them through the glow of your smile,

It seems they are stamped with a kiss on my heart.

Do not write.

“So sad.” You stopped a tear from sliding further down your face.

Steven threw his prized book to the side. The only thing that could get in between him and your pussy was an imminent threat to your life. “What? The poem? I- we would never leave you.”

“I know,” you softly chuckled, scratching his beard. “It’s so sad I can cum to such a depressing poem.”

Salt and pepper curls fell into your face as Steven hovered over you. You got the perfect view of him being mesmerized by your pussy. Anticipation and horniness built up as you watched him wet his fingers and prepped you for his dick.

Greediness overcame you. You needed all parts of his body touching yours. Forcefully you pulled him down for a kiss while he gracefully entered you.

It didn’t take long for Steven to regain control of everything. Just like Marc and Jake, Steven insisted on taking care of you. It was about the only thing all three could completely agree on. Making love was all about you and you came first…multiple times. Unless you were in trouble with Marc and especially with Jake.

Steven cradled your face. His hold on you grew tighter with every kiss. With Marc and Jake there was an expected roughness, but Steven was usually softer. He made love to you in a delicate and gentle way, but no less satisfying. Not tonight though. Les Separes ran rapid in his mind. He needed to feel you. A constant reminder that you’re here with him and going nowhere. He never wanted to relate to that poem.

“Steven.” Your breath hitched. The way he grabbed the meaty flesh by your hips, you knew it would bruise but you didn’t mind. His hips snapped roughly. Thank God all three men knew the difference between harder and faster, but Steven was the master of it.

His lips were barely half an inch above yours. “More beautiful than Hathor.”

“Who was that again?” You pretended to forget. Seeing him geek out was a huge turn on.

It was obvious you asked to get a rile out of him. You were the perfect student for him, absorbing every fact he stated, even if it was one, he said offhandedly “Later, babes.” He nipped your ear while he pumped into you. “Right now, let me ravish you.”

“Ravish away.” You moaned.

Steven pulled away for a few moments, to flip you around. His plan was to take you from behind, but your creaminess was begging to be eaten.

At the first you lick, you almost collapse. Your bud was already so sensitive, that even crossing your legs would have set you off. “Steven,” you groaned, reaching behind you, and tugging on his unruly curls, simply guiding him.

Near his own orgasm, Steven pulled up and slowly entered you. “Oh love,” he kissed down your spine. “I could never get tired of you. Thank you for giving me a chance.” You were the only woman to truly show him what love is.

“I love you, Steven Grant.” You cupped his face, leading him to kiss you.

The two of your moans were muffled by the kisses and the sloshing of your sexes. Steven folded over you once he came down from his climax. “Mind if we stay here, love?” He kissed down your spine again, squeezing your hip intermittently.

“Not at all.” You laid there content with Steven’s weight comfortably on top of you.

Sleep was claiming you when you were alerted by the rolling of your nipples and tiny little nips on your neck.

“Querida, you’ve had enough rest.”

Uh-oh. You should’ve known better. When one gets a taste then they all want a taste. Better prepare for a long night.

Taglist: @nightlywords7 @whatupitshuff @liquorlaughslove @9daykrisr @jackburtonsays @heresathreebee @phoenixhalliwell @eeveeangelcakes @blowmymbackout @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat

#steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x black!reader #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector x black!reader #jake lockley #jake lockely x reader #jake lockely x black!reader #moonknight #moonknight x reader #moonknight x black!reader #frizzlefic #frizzlesfic

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unholyhelbig · 2 years

Text

Crescent 8/? | Natasha Romanoff x Moonknight!Reader

Summary: When Natasha Romanoff takes a job as head of security for Dina Jackson she has an ulterior motive- to find the tomb of Egyptian artifacts that the art world is racing for. Dina’s disgraced niece is charming, awkward, and under the influence of Khonsu, the God of the Moon.

Warnings: Not so subtle Violence, throat injury, trauma, and also really bad grammar.

[A/N: Sorry about the delay, folks. I got Ronance brain rot.]

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You were quickly deemed to be a non-threat by the Black Widows standards, and it wasn’t quite the morale booster you were hoping for. Though, standing in the shower under scalding water did something to wake up your bones, making you forget about the thinly veiled insult to your capability.

The feeling of her lips against yours still seemed like a dream, a mirage that’s brought on by the heat of a dessert. You swallowed a couple breaths of steam, the glass walls fogging up enough for your steadying handprints to drip like freshly drawn blood. Non-threats got to go to their own apartments to talk to their bird-God masters about a game plan. Non-threats still had to wear the bracelets of blue that didn’t dampen your powers as much as you’d hoped.

Khonsu sat on the toilet and regarded it as a throne. He had picked up one of the magazines you’d situated for reading material, using his boney fingers to flip the page and huff at whatever gossip he found interesting, much like Yelena.

He had called you a worm for the first three months of your partnership. It wasn’t until you took a lashing from a group of Russian men in maroon tracksuits that you had gained his respect. There was no ability to fight back, but he seemed impressed by your tendency to get back up. You spit blood onto the sidewalk, clenched broken ribs, and took another fist to the face. Over and over again until he put a stop to it. He thought you to fight, to wield the weapons you were given.

You cannot be in love with her.

“I didn’t say that.” You pressed your forehead against the cool tile, closing your eyes against the scalding stream of water. “I said I want to see where it goes. I can’t do that if you command me to kill her.”

You’ve never questioned my authority before. It’s interesting.

“I’ve never gotten a chance like this before.”

And you hadn’t. Not really. There were girlfriends in high school, but everything was so new. You’d met Taylor French in debate club and figured out what all the puns regarding her name were about. You’d lost your virginity next to a tackle box in Jackson Simmons pickup truck. None of those felt like anything. Not like this simple kiss had.

You turned off the stream of water and took the red towel that he passed to you through the cracked glass, goosebumps where the cold water hit you. “I don’t see what killing Natasha will accomplish. Dina has the scarab. She’ll lead us to the tomb.”

A test of loyalty. I need to make sure you regard me, as always. Especially after that stunt she pulled, inhibiting our connection.

You stepped into the foggy bathroom “I’ll regard you. I regard you. Have you ever been infatuated with anyone?”

Khonsu furrowed his bony brow at the magazine in his hands and was quiet for a long moment. You walked to the sink with caution, worried that you had overstepped a boundary. But then again, he was sitting with you while you showered. There was something vulnerable about that that almost friends shared.

No.

The answer was simple and so softly spoken that you nearly didn’t’ hear it over the sound of your own heart pounding in your chest. He flickered out then, the magazine falling to the steam-soaked bathmat, pages curling in moisture.

You were still wracked with exhaustion and settled on taking the subway to your aunt’s penthouse. You had been summoned by a short text that dropped to the pit of your stomach. Your mother and her effortless way of cushioning the blow were in Jersey for a girl’s weekend.

There was no specificity to the text, nor was this the usual night you gathered for dinner. By the time the elevator reached the top of the stairs, you could taste metal. The scent of merlot and burning chestnut logs hit the back of your throat. You suppressed a cough. Instead, rounding the corner tentatively, like a child.

Chip spotted you first and smiled warmly at you with his general easiness. Dina was standing at the mantel place, one sip of bourbon souring in her glass. Her green eyes flashed towards you. Even as she lingered in her own home, she wore statement jewelry and crocodile print pants.

“I trust you’re feeling better.” She said.

“Much, thank you.” You swallowed the thick taste in your mouth. “Natalie got the scarab to you?”

Her eyes hardened. With a guttural scream, she hurled the crystal glass into the wall behind you. It shattered into a million pieces, the noise was loud, shards and alcohol sprayed against your arms. You’d instinctively covered your stare, lowering your arms wildly.

Your voice broke “What the hell?”

“The scarab. Where is it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“She’s given me a fake.” Dina rushed towards you, grasping at your collar feverishly. You shoved her hands away and took a giant step back, putting your hands out as if calming a wild animal. “It was a damned good fake, but not good enough to fool me.”

“My sweet, maybe we should take a lenient approach?” Chip took a long gulp of his own drink, rising a grey eyebrow.

“I’ve been lenient enough.”

Dina turned and picked up the iron fire poker from the flames. The tip glowed a sharp orange, pulsing like a living breathing thing. She closed the distance between the both of you, her fake nails pushing into your shoulder.

Now would be a fantastic time for Natasha to magically show up with the little fob that unlocked your bracelets. You’d been diligent about hiding your secret from your family, from Dina. But desperate times made you well, desperate. The tip of the heated poker was hovering above a weak spot on your throat.

“I don’t think you understand what fire you’re playing with here, Y/n.” She spits, breath acrid “Tell me where Natalie and the Scarab are.”

You let out a wet laugh “I don’t know where your damned scarab is.”

When the edge of the metal hit your skin, it hissed. You let out a scream as she pushed in, the scent of burnt flesh filling your lungs. Chip stood from his seat and Dina’s eyes flashed a moment of regret at her own actions before she pulled back. You gulped in air.

“So much is on the line. If you think I’m above killing you to get what I want, you’re mistaken.”

“Is that any way to treat family?”

“Family?” She went slack as if the word had stung her “Family? You’re kidding! There is not a single part of me that considers you anything more than a… than a worm.”

When you swallowed back the sour taste in your mouth, your skin hit the burning edge of the fire poker once more. This time, you didn’t flinch. You expected the pain, some part of you even welcomed it. It gave the tears in your eyes a direction, like a bad play.

“If you kill me,” You rasped “Then you’ll never get what you want. You’ll rot in a cell. Is that worth it?”

Dina blinked at you. She was angry, at first, she was seething. But then the realization of what she had done seeped into her bones, and made her shoulders drop. You pushed her away and pressed your hand to the bloodied burn on the side of your neck. Chip was there with a dishtowel soaked in cold water. You shoved that away too, taking a few steps back.

“I’ll find her.” Dina let the metal rod fall with a clang. “I’ve used the last of my mercy with you, Y/n.”

“Search the desert until you strike gold.” Your voice hard. It hurt to talk. “Die trying, for all I care.”

You waited until you were past Bennet the doorman to let your tears fall. There were cameras in the elevator and the lobby. All of which Dina and Chip had access to. Each conversation you’d had with her in the past few years made you feel like a child again. Scolded and corrected, and so very afraid of what she would do next.

It felt suffocating, wearing these bracelets, the constant back and forth between feelings. It was all overwhelming- scary. You did the only thing you could think of on your way home as a slough of cold rain fell from the sky. You called Natasha.

To your surprise, she wasted no time getting to your apartment. The two of you lived in the same neighborhood, right by the art gallery that had been collecting dust for the past two weeks as you played your aunt’s game.

You swallowed two cups of whiskey without ice, the warm flavor burning your stomach. By the time she knocked on the door, you had worked yourself up to a nice buzz, forgetting the burn against your throat, wishing you could forget the woman who had given it to you.

Natasha let out a disapproving grunt, clad in a pair of sweatpants and a black shirt. Her hair was still damp from the rain, the scent of lavender filling your lungs

“malen'kaya luna” she said, her voice low as she pushed her way into your apartment. “What have you done?”

You sighed into her touch; her fingers cold against the side of your face. It was soothing, your cheeks inflamed. You were suddenly self-conscious. Why had you called her? There was a kiss shared, and a lot of flirtatious banter but this felt more intimate somehow. She was in your apartment. You had been crying. You had no one else to call.

The rain was falling hard now. The billboard from across the street was enough to illuminate the whole apartment. Sheeted water made you feel like you were in a fishbowl. The sound matched up with your heartbeat.

Natasha leads you to the sofa, and you obediently allowed her to do so. “First Aid kit?”

“I don’t have one.”

“What do you mean you don’t have one?”

She knelt in front of you between your legs. One hand was on your thigh. The other was on the upholstery. Your throat throbbed. Your head throbbed. You hadn’t been sure about blood loss, but you knew there was some. Your collar was sticking to your warm skin.

“Haven’t gotten hurt for a long time.” Your eyes hardened. Your fingers subconsciously moving to your neck. Natasha grasped them before they made contact. She squeezed hard. “Dina.”

“Dina did this?”

You didn’t answer, instead, you swallowed the metal taste in your mouth. Natasha stood, patted her pockets, and grabbed the small fob. You kept your stare on the way the water reflected on the dark hardwood floor. When the cuffs fell from your wrists, you didn’t’ register it at first. Not until the wound against your throat had healed. It didn’t’ take long. It never did.

You had been back in the hospital room for a moment- hooked up to machines. Watching yourself struggle to breathe. Your chest barely rose and barely fell. Machines beeped in time with the world moving on from the rich kid taking a slug to the stomach, to the shoulder. Brain swelling and fractured everything.

“Hey,” Natasha had her hand on your cheek again, and was kneeling in front of you. “I know that look. I get that look. Come back to me, alright? You’re going to be fine. You’ve healed up well. Can you tell me what happened?”

Despite the leveled stare she gave you, you stood and made your way back over to the cabinet of liquor. You poured two glasses of whiskey. Handing her one. Your own fingers clasped around the crystal. If you didn’t have that hold, they’d be trembling. You hated how it dulled your senses, how it had probably dulled Dina’s too.

“You told me you used to collect fireflies.”

Natasha nodded. The billboard changed to its next ad, a blinding purple light. The rain skewed it, and shaded her stoic features still etched with worry. She took a swallow of whiskey.

“Dina and I used to collect moths. She believed that the moth symbolized change. That when you die one would carry you into your next life. The pattern and size of your moth depend on the life you lead.”

Natasha put her hand on the small of your back, her touch warm, steadying. She was holding you up better than your feet. You watched as water dripped in sheets against the windows.

“When I got attacked, I screamed for hours before I realized that no one could hear me, that everything was in my head. That I just had to be patient, had to listen and wait for them to realize that the only thing they could do for me would be to practice mercy. To shut off the machines.

“My mother was too stubborn, and my aunt… my aunt would sit by my bedside every day and beg for me to gain consciousness. I could feel her squeezing my hand, could hear her through her tears. She wanted me to wake, but only for a moment. She whispered about a moth never showing to take me to the next life if she was suffering in this one because of my… my weakness.”

You hadn’t realized that you were crying until Nat’s cold touch wiped the tears from your cheeks. She held your face; let you fall into the crook of her neck and sob. She didn’t’ say anything, instead, she listened to the way the rain fell.

Exhaustion plagued your body with each passing minute, each cycle of advertisements on the lit billboard across the way. Any reservations about showing Natasha your home, your bedroom, were washed away in the gutters with the rain.

Over the years, you had built a wall around the soft parts of yourself. The one thing you could control was how much information you gave, what you kept, and who you were. There was no explanation of why Natasha made you feel so safe. She was the enemy; a trained assassin with a dripping ledger who fought against your endgame.

Yet, as she lay down and open her arms up for an embrace you didn’t know you craved so strongly, you couldn’t see any of that. You breathed in her earthy, water-worn scent. You listened to her heartbeat which was stronger than yours. You fisted the fabric of her shirt, nose flush against her neck. She rubbed small circles against your back.

“You have a moth, malen'kaya luna.” Natasha spoke so softly. If your ear hadn’t been pressed to her throat, the words would have been lost in the falling rain. “This happened for a reason. Maybe it just wasn’t your time to release it from its strawberry-scented jar yet.”

For the first time in a long time, you drifted into a comfortable sleep, one where your shoulder didn’t’ ache, where the nightmares didn’t rush through your mind. There was simply nothing but the sweet scent of summer berries and Natasha Romanoff.

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#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x Moonknight!Reader #Moonkight!Reader #Moonknight #Black widow x reader #Black Widow

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