Summary:The Avengers, your team of superheroes, has been called in to handle an invasion in New York, and you’re bringing your superhero boyfriend, Moon Knight, with you.
Pairings:Marc Spector x reader, Steven Grant x reader, Jake Lockley x reader
Warnings and A/N: I did my best to accurately represent DID, I put very little effort into creating a plot and a lot of effort into writing dialogue
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It was only you, Marc, and the agent - whose name you had never learned and didn’t care to learn - on the quinjet. You held Marc’s hand the entire time. There was no denying the anxious fluttering in your stomach as your two lives continued converging. Each second brought Marc closer to the Avengers, and you’d be lying if you said that didn’t scare the shit out of you.
You read through the briefing notes, getting occasional comments from the agent now piloting the quinjet. Rogue artificial intelligence, not Ultron level, but dangerous nonetheless. SWORD suspected some alien involvement, but that wasn’t the concern right now. The immediate issue was an army of robots hidden underground waiting to be activated.
At some point you started to fall asleep against Marc’s shoulder. He gingerly shifted you into a laying position resting your head on his thigh in a familiar comfortable position. His hand settles in your hair and strokes the curves of your face, soothing you into sleep. You hardly sleep for an hour before Marc shakes you awake.
“Something’s happening.”
“We need to drop you in,” the agent called back. “The activation happened earlier than our intelligence suggested. Most of the team is already on the ground. Everyone else is on their way. Don’t forget your comm links.”
You sit up and rifle through your bag, pulling out a familiar costume and stripping off your clothes. Marc blinks at you a few times like he’s surprised at your lack of modesty. He knows you well enough that he really shouldn’t be.
“We can’t all summon our suits,” you tease and toss him an ear piece, even as his eyes begin to glow with white moonlight.
“Tell her she looks amazing!” Steven gushes.
“Keep it in your pants,” Jake snaps back.
You reach for a parachute, but Marc’s white gloved hand stops you.
“I can fly you in,” he offers through the mask.
“You told me no flying last month!” You protest.
“I didn’t know you were an Avenger last month.”
“Bad call, mate.”
“Oh, so you thought I was fragile before?” You tease, not really mad at the man.
His mask peels away so he can tilt his head and shoot you an amused glare.
“You’re in range!” The agent calls back.
You turn and plant a kiss on Marc’s lips, then punch a button. The door opens slowly with a cold rush of air. You wrap your arms around his strong body, take a deep breath, and together you jump from the plane into free fall. His cape catches like a parachute part way down, guiding you through the clouds lower and lower until the skyline is in view.
Smoke rises from burning buildings, the wreckage of a city that has again become a battle ground.
“Shit,” Marc whispers. “We’re gonna have to stop having technology free dates.”
“Yeah,” you reply, only half paying attention, too busy scanning the ground for your fellow Avengers. It’s pure chaos on the ground, a complete and utter disaster, but then, through the smoke… “There!”
You point Marc in the direction of a bright flash of blue and white, and he angles you toward the ground. The comm link in your ear begins to crackle and finally beeps a connection. You were right.
“-end up here? We’re supposed to be on vacation!” The voice of Bucky Barnes fills your ear at the same moment the bright red, white, and blue wings of Sam Wilson reappear. “Sam, what the fuck is in the sky?”
That would be Marc.
“Good morning, Captain America,” you smile down at the small figures of your friends on the ground.
“Oh thank god,” Sam replies. “Buck and I are a-” he grunts, “A bit outnumbered. We have to hold this street, or it will interfere with the wizards’ spell.”
You’re streaking toward the fight below, finally able to see the action for real. They are more than a bit outnumbered, the two men surrounded by humanoid robots armed to the teeth with every bit of weapons technology available. You drop to the ground at Bucky’s side, Marc landing next to you.
“You’re late,” Bucky calls. “Who’s the mummy?”
Marc shoots him a glare.
“Marc, don’t glare at Bucky Barnes! That’s-”
“I know who Bucky Barnes is Steven,” he answers silently.
Yeah, he knew Bucky Barnes. Well, Steven knew. At some point in their childhood, Steven realized he shared part of a name with Steven Grant Rogers and harbored a small fascination with the former Captain America ever since.
“That’s Moon Knight!” Sam’s wing decapitates a robot as he turns to look Marc up and down. “Read your briefing packets, Buck.”
Bucky rolls his eyes and returns to the fight. You draw two long knives, gifts from King T’Challa, and make short work of any robot that approaches. Marc hurls crescent darts, each finding their target. But he doesn’t let Steven front. Not yet at least.
Occasionally, he glances back at you, checking to make sure you’re alright. You are doing the same to him. You have never fought at his side before, but already you know that you would do it again and again.
“The sorcerers - not wizards, Sam- are working some spell in that building,” Bucky gestures vaguely behind him. “They can shut the whole AI down, but we have to keep these things out.”
“Androids!” Sam shouts as he jumps over one and buries his shield in it’s neck. “Androids controlled by aliens who can be stopped by wizards. The big three!”
“The big three?” Marc turns to Captain America.
“Don’t ask!” You and Bucky shout at the same time.
The four of you stand no chance of holding this street. Of course this couldn’t be a time-efficient spell, and the robots just keep coming, an endless supply of mindless soldiers puppeteered by some unknown force. A piece of shrapnel slashes your face, distracting you from the fight for a split second. It’s enough for a blow to land at your midsection, knocking the breath from you.
You pull the gun from your waist, SWORD issue with some advanced technology you don’t care to understand, and shoot. It’s not your preferred weapon, but it is necessary. Marc is by your side in an instant. He grabs you around the waist and wraps you in the white fabric of his cape.
It’s just the two of you in this little cocoon. The rest of the world is forgotten as his mask falls away for a moment. The expression on his face is pure horror, lips pressed in a tight line, eyes murderous. His gaze is focused on the blood dripping down your cheek.
“I’m fine,” you insist and run your fingers across his nose and brow that is furrowed deeply, trying to soothe away those worry lines.
“I need Jake,” he breathes, a confession he rarely makes. “We need Jake.”
Jake will do anything to protect Marc and Steven and anything to protect you. It’s probably why you had never actually seen Jake suited up for a fight. He is the ‘whatever it takes’ part of the system, and all three of them are still afraid to show you that side.
“Okay,” you grip his upper arms. “It’s okay.”
His eyes flicker for a second, then his suit shifts, darkens to a midnight black that is more like tactical armor than Marc’s mummy wrappings. A bright white crescent moon shines on his chest; it matches the bright white of his cape. He tilts his head with a little smirk, and just like that Jake Lockley has joined the fray.
“Cap? Cap?” Someone is shouting through coms. “We’re coming to you. Do you copy?”
The voice is crackly, so you can’t make out exactly who it is.
You turn back to the fight, watching with bit of admiration and a lot of attraction as Jake expertly dispatches android after android.
“Did he change outfits mid fight?” Bucky punches a robot beside you.
“Sort of.”
You kick a robot across the head, stabbing one of your vibranium knives into it’s chest and immediately lashing out toward another. You glance up, and the world seems to slow around you. The battle is forgotten as you can only stare at Jake. He is fighting desperately, holding his own except…
Except behind him. A metallic arm is raising a heavy blade for a killing blow, metal arching toward his neck. You’re trying to scream his name. You are screaming his name, but it’s too late. You stab the android in front of you, but you will never make it. Jake’s suit will protect him from a lot, heal just about anything, but not decapitation.
Red flashes across your view, a bright flash hurtling through the air. A stick strikes the robot through the forehead, and the metal being collapses in a dead heap. Jake whips his head around as he realizes what almost happened. A figure in dark red drops from a nearby fire escape, grabs the stick from the robots sparking brain, and nods to you. He jumps into the fight at Jake’s side, the two men working together with an impressive synchrony for two strangers.
“How did you see that?” Jake shouts.
“I heard it,” Matt Murdock replies as he dispatches another android.
A few more minutes and the fighting finally stops. Another wave of robots is undoubtedly assembling nearby, but for now the team has a moment to breathe.
Jake’s mask falls away as he studies Daredevil. His eyes linger on the upper half of Matt’s face, noticing how his eyes are completely obscured by the dark red of his mask. You sprint to Jake’s side, wanting to reach for his hand, hold him, kiss him, feel that he is alive, but you restrain yourself. Your relationship is a secret, and for now you want to keep it that way.
“So this is the boyfriend?” Matt asks.
Your relationship is not a secret.
“How-” you start to question how Matt could possibly know that you had a boyfriend, let alone that this was him.
“You started smelling different a few months ago,” he explains. “It’s him. His scent is all over you.”
“Is there a better way to say that then ‘his scent is all over you’? Tone down the creepy… vibes? Vibes? Is that the word?”
“Give up on the modern slang, Buck,” Sam makes a face and pats his partners’ shoulder mockingly.
You plant a kiss to Jake’s cheek, and he brushes his hand across your fingers to tell you that he is okay. You watch him and Daredevil with interest, hoping Jake might find a friend in the hero who protected his city with the same ferocity and passion as Jake protected Steven, Marc, and you.
“What’s up with the little horns, el diablo?” Jake asks. “What are you the hero of? Hell?”
“Hell’s Kitchen, and it’s Daredevil actually.”
Jake shoots you a glance then shifts his gaze back to Matt. A smile fills his features, a genuine one, and a second later the same expression appears on Matt’s face. You let out a heavy sigh of relief as they slip into easy conversation and you turn back to Sam and Bucky.
“You and Moon Knight, huh?” Sam frowns. “Guess Spidey was right.”
As if summoned by his name, the mysterious masked hero drops from the sky.
“Hey you guys! There’s another group heading our way.”
He starts to turn to Cap, notices Jake and does a double take to stare at the white costumed man, everyone else forgotten. Jake looks at him completely unimpressed.
“Oh my god, you’re Moon Knight!” Spider-Man’s voice has a youthfulness that always surprises you. “I love you! I wanted a cape because of you, but I gave up the idea pretty quick. I mean not in New York right? Handsy people. It would never have lasted. Wow! Mr. Knight, you are so cool.”
“Mr. Knight,” Steven tries out the name “I like that.”
“I hate it,” Marc replies.
“Well that seems like your problem don’t it? I’m keeping it. You can be Moon Knight. I’ll be Mr. Knight.”
“Marc, right?” Spidey asks, and you can practically see the mischief forming in the boys’ mind at his well-meaning mistake.
“I’m Jake.”
“Sorry! Jake-”
Jake’s expression changes, the suit shifting with him.
“Oops, Steven now,” Steven grins.
“O-Okay, Steven,” Spider-Man tries to keep up.
The suit changes as Marc fronts.
“Marc again,” he teases, messing with the young hero.
“Oh,” that catches Spidey off guard. “Nice to meet you, Marc.”
“Actually, Jake now.”
“Leave him alone, you three,” you glower at Jake but have to fight back a laugh.
You thanked any god you could think of that Spider-Man had been there with his goofy remarks and joking attitude to make it easier for Marc, Steven, and Jake to show off this particular skill set.
“Sorry, love.”
That’s Steven.
He adjusts his white suit jacket and grins at Spider-Man, ““You know, the cape is actually really overrated, kid.”
“I’m Spider-Man,” he lowers his voice and puts extra emphasis on the ‘man.’
“More like Spider-Kid,” Jake mutters.
Steven ignores his alter and nods conspiratorially to Spider-Man. He gives him a thumbs up like they just shared a secret.
“Figure out how to really punch criminals yet?” Daredevil snarks, tossing an arm across Spider-Man’s shoulders affectionately.
“I’m not beating the shit out of people,” he protests.
“It’s more efficient.”
“Whatever you say ‘really good lawyer.’”
You observe their interaction with some interest. Had Matt defended whoever was in the Spider-Man suit? No time for that now though, you realize as a mechanical whirring fills the air. You take a defensive stance at Steven’s side, Bucky to your right. Cap and Spidey leap into the air. Matt stands beside Steven.
Sam looks down at his makeshift team then out at the approaching mechanical army. They’re not much, but they’ll do.
“Avengers…”
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A/N:I left this open for a part 3. Not sure if I’ll write it, but I do think a 3rd part to wrap it all up and let the system meet some other Avengers would be fun! Let me know if you want added to my general Moon Knight tag list!
SUMMARY:You had your own demons you needed to deal with on a daily basis. It was a good thing you had Steven, Marc, Jake, and even Khonsu to help you elevate your symptoms from time to time. PROMPT(S): “against the window? are you insane?”; “I thought we’d agreed to share her” CHARACTERS:Steven Grant x Wife!Reader; Marc Spector x Wife!Reader; Jake Lockley x Wife!Readerl; Khonshu x Reader WARNINGS: Smut. Unprotected P in V. Choking. Slight Exhibitionism. Creampie. Violence. Assault. Unhealthy Mental State. Marital Arguments. Shitty Work-Life Balance. Asshole Co-workers. Khonshu being…Khonshu. WORDS:6,218 REQUESTED BY: @emmy626 A/N: Holy fuck was this long. Thought about separating each one of the boys for this one and a crack! one for Khonshu since I’m still a coward to write monster fucking with that man–but soon. real soon. Hope you guys enjoy~
The thing about Steven was how gentle he could be, sassy at times, but oh so gentle when it comes to you. Now that most of the blackouts were resolved and understood, things in your shared apartment were more stable–at least for the most part. When you’ve met his other alters, you’ve learned to accept him for who he was, for all of who everyone was. Khonsu on the other hand, it took a while for you to accept him as part of the whole setup up, he might not be an alter, but there were times where the God of the Moon and Time.
You loved Steven, loved every single thing about him. Loved all his alternates the same way as him. Equally and irrevocably. It was a part of him that you can never leave without just as much as he could never.
“Brought you chocolates.”
A smile broke from your lips the moment you stepped out of your office and he was the first person you had come face to face with. A box of chocolate in his grasp. His gentle smile resting on his features. His fluffy hair resting on his forehead and you were already aching to just brush your hands through them. Stepping closer to him, your free hand come to hold onto his own free hand as the both of you made your walk towards his apartment.
“How was work?” He inquired.
“Same old, same old.” You sighed, not wanting to tell Steven about how much of an ass your boss was and how every single one of your co-workers were leaving their tasks for you to finish up while they continue on with their daily gossiping. It was getting on your nerves but you didn’t have it in you to say anything–the pay was good, but it was getting too much some days. “Just happy I got to be with you for the weekend.”
You were actually excited. Not only because you have the entire weekend to spend with your husband, but the fact that this weekend would mark your one year anniversary since you’ve two gotten married. Being to have him all to yourself was all you could ever need for now. You wrapped your tired arm around his waist, head resting on his shoulder as you both continued on your way back to your apartment. It was quite a long walk, better to have taken the bus, but you just wanted to spend some time with your husband instead of dealing with other cranky workers on their way home.
In the chaos of your shared apartment, you felt most at peace. Placing the box of chocolate your husband had given you on the table. You had made your way towards where your husband was in the kitchen. His focus had been on preparing tea for the both of you while you unwind for the weekend. You slipped your arms around his waist, relishing in his warmth and enjoying just being able to touch him like you did right now.
“You want to talk about it, Love?” He inquired to which had been how you both found yourselves cuddled on the sofa, ignoring the growing cold tea on the coffee table.
You finally spoke about your day, how much of a shitty people you had the misfortune of working with. You continued on with explaining how their constant ridiculing affected you mentally. You both needed the money, with the both of you wanting to save before you finally start a family, quitting was not an option. Not with the things going on with Steve and the rest of his alters.
Your husband listened, never once interrupting you, lips kissing your forehead whenever you felt the most frustrated during the anecdotes of today’s work day as well as the nightmare of the past few weeks. His hands rubbed against your back, nails gently scratching against your back. When you no longer spoke, your face nestled against the crook of his neck, you tried to fight of the stress and it was in this moment your husband had pulled you on top of him, arms wrapped around you. The warmth of his touch slowly but surely elevating everything that has happened throughout the day.
In the silence, things turn more heated as you kissed him–hoping to forget the rest of the week and try as you possibly could to just focus on your husband. To act like you were just newly weds all over again. The life that was always been simple, the promises and the plans you had made for each other, the domestic bliss of your every day life with him.
“Come on Stevie, go harder on me. I won’t break.” You moaned, trying to urge your husband to fuck you harder on the sofa, but the fear in his eyes of hurting you still present in his features. This was your love, the man that would do anything and everything in his life to ensure you wellbeing was prioritized. It made you fall and fall more in love with him–but this moment, all you needed was to be fucked, thoroughly so.
“No.” He continue to refuse, his hips more dangerously slow this time. “Please, take it slow and let me love you like you deserve to be loved.”
Before you could plead for him, he thrusted inside of you up to the hilt taking the breath right out of you in the process.
His hands cupped your face, pulling you into a kiss. His movement continued on to be slow with an even pace. Ramming you right into the sofa, tears slowly ran down your cheeks at all of this pent up sensation you were feeling. The shitty weeks you had at work, how you never felt you were worth shit because of them–to this, to the look on your husband’s eyes as he continuous to fuck you to whisper you praises, about the things you had never seen about yourself that he could see. He appreciates and hopes to God each day that you will never tire of.
“Come for me, Love.” He pleaded against your lips, his movement growing faster, the sensation of his cock sliding in and out, exactly where you need him to be. “Let go.”
And you did, releasing in time for him to spill himself deep inside you. The sensation and all that the both of you had planned for the weekend finally placed you at ease. Pulling him on top of you, you could only smile, relieved to have this–to have him.
“You’ll have your time with her.” You heard your husband muttered making you turn to face him, amused with what he was arguing with his other alters this time.
“What is it this time?” You asked, rubbing his back, legs wrapped around his waist, still not prepared to have him pull away from you.
“Jake said, and I quote: ‘I thought we’d agreed to share her’, needy bunch they are.” He muttered making you giggle and pepper your husband’s face with kisses.
“Give me a few more minutes and you could share me all you want for the weekend.” You assured him already feeling him harden back all over again for you.
“Why don’t you say that to my face again instead.”
Mid-argument, you wouldn’t think Marc would front–but here he stood after you spoke the things you know you didn’t even mean. The deep frown rested on his lips as he sat on the single-seat sofa in front of you. Arms crossed against his chest, legs spread wide and with you still standing he intimidated you to a fault. You didn’t even know how the argument with your husband started. You were in the last leg of your patience when it comes to your co-workers, Steven wasn’t helping as he continued to insist on you quitting. You couldn’t not after things with whatever he was dealing with his alters aren’t making much of a progress and your work was the only stable things the both of you had for a while.
It was questions about how he could provide for the two of you now, as he was banned from the National Museum after the stunt he pulled and you were certain he was blacklisted everywhere else within a 5-mile radius because of a bird brain for a God that fucked everything up for the both of them. You were angry, rightfully so for the people around you, but Steve didn’t deserve it, now that you’re facing Marc instead of him, you realized it as well.
You were quiet now, all the outburst you had in you had magically faded away. Embarrassment was quick to replaced all the anger you’ve felt.
“You got two options, either you calm down and we talk this through or keep talking and I fuck you into submission. Either option works for me and Steve doesn’t seem to mind either way with the way you were talking to him.”
You blinked, unprepared still for Marc to face you now.
“I’d like to see you make me, Spector.” Your brain was yet to filter your stupidity and you found yourself manhandled by the man in one fluid motion.
Clothes torn up, naked and edged for the life out of you, this was the last thing you would have expected Marc to do with you.
“Hands against the window, Y/N.” His order held no room for argument, but the fact that you were naked and could barely stand on your two feet after his torturous tongue and finger brought you over and over to the edge without any hope of end once again pulled the filter between your brain and your mouth.
“Against the window? Are you insane?” You questioned and Marc was quick to shove you face first into the glass window. A part of you was thankful your shared apartment was a good few floors up and the only chance either of you would get caught in this situation was if they looked up and focused on your floor’s window.
The busy street of people heading home could not be bothered and you hope it would stay that way for whatever your husband has planned for you.
Hands resting against the cool window, you waited with bated breath for what he would do. His rough hands gently nudged you forward until you’re practically glued to the floor ceiling window. You shivered at the sensation of the cold window against your nipples. Before you could turn to see what he has planned, the radiating pain against your scalp had your full attention as Marc fisted your hair and maneuvered your head until your cheek was smooshed against the window.
“Are you gonna continue to be difficult, Baby?” He inquired, the head of his cock lined against your entrance but he was yet to make any action of slipping in. “Because I can do this all day and not even break a sweat?”
You refused to say another word, not trusting yourself to say the right thing and stop the torture that was of your own doing. Instead, you shook your head, wanting to stop the never ending torture your husband was willing to throw at you without hesitation.
“Use your damn words, you love to use it to hurt us, remember?”
The first line of sob escaped your lips now. You didn’t mean to hurt them, most especially Steven. You were projecting the anger you had from work to him, to everyone of them and it was finally coming to hit you in full force. You didn’t mean to hurt any of them, it was never your intention. And you just found yourself crying and but unable to tell all three of them how sorry you were and how you would be compromising when the opportunity to do so finally arises.
Marc had now wrapped his arms around your torso, slipping deep inside you and a whimper was there to replace your sob. Relief of finally being able to feel him inside you. The familiar sting of his cock stretching you to your limit was slowly but surely helping you out of the darkest part of your own mind. Hands holding onto your waist as he continued to shove himself deep inside you.
All the anger and tribulation you had felt for the day had slowly faded away and your mind was brought back to the present. To this man, whose one and only intention in your relationship was to make you safe, happy, and sane to live the day to day as the world might see it fit.
His hips continued on slamming onto you, every intention on splitting you in half for all you were worth.
Your breath continued to fog against the window, no longer did you feel self-conscious with the little fact that there was a possibility someone could see the both of you.
Slowly, you could find yourself creeping into the familiar release, but as you felt your wall begin to tighten his movement begin to slow and you found yourself sobbing for him. Pleading for him for your release but it was left in deaf ears as he slowed his pace. He pulls out and you felt him move away from you, the absence of his warmth brought you further into tears now at this point. But you didn’t move, no longer had any fight in you nor did you have any voice of protest to make.
You closed your eyes, listening for anything to give you a clue of your husband’s whereabouts, for whatever plan he might have for you. You didn’t have the strength to move, to turn and see him and prepare yourself for what he has left for you.
“What does it feel like when you don’t have any control of yourself and of the situation that could be easily resolved with the right communication? Fucking hurts doesn’t it?” Marc inquired. “Now think what I feel, what Steven feels, hell, even Jake is quiet when you said what you said.” he spat.
“I’m sorry.” The two words was all you needed to say before you were pulled back into your husband’s arms finally pulling you in for the first kiss since the whole argument started. “I didn’t mean to…it’s just everything and everyone and I don’t know what I need to handle first.”
You continued to sob in the arms of your husband. He continued on to kiss you, slowly growing faint as he clung to you just as much as you did to him. He had his eyes closed now. A sigh of relief finally escaping his lips as he settled at you.
“We can’t keep doing this, you can’t keep using Steven as a punching bag when shit happens at work. We’re here to listen, you know we are always here for you because we love you, through sickness and health, till death takes me first.” He points out.
You found yourself snorting at his words, there was always this never ending joke between all four of you that they were far too certain with the fact that they would die first–may it be from whatever mission or job they might find themselves involved in, or whatever crazy illness or curse Khonshu might throw at them if he doesn’t get what he wants. It scares you sometimes when you are alone at home and they are out somewhere, the reality of it actually happening–and yet you continue to choose to be a shitty wife just for the hell of it.
“I promise to communicate more.” You whisphered after a moment. Finally having the words to say what you needed to. “I’ll try and take less shifts if I can so I don’t stress myself out.”
“Good.” He smirked eyes opening back up before he held you up by your thighs and thrusted into you, back slammed against the window and you feared that his strength could get the better of him.
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders to steady yourself as he finally returned to his former steady pace and from the way his brown eyes grow black as he was ready to chase his own release along with your own. Your breast squished against his chest as he practically glued himself to you as he continued to fuck your through the window. His breath grows rugged now, warmth fanning against your cheeks as you whimpered at the brutal pace that was bringing you right back up to the peak.
“Don’t you fucking dare stop, Spector.” You threatened before you finally stilled, muscles clenched, milking him for all it was worth. Relief washed over you, finally slipping into your much needed release.
“Fuck.” He growled spilling deep inside you, before halting all together and resting most of his weight on you. “Promise me you’re not gonna make Steven pull away.” he whispered.
“Promise.” You whispered, nuzzling against the crook of his neck. A promise you were now more than willing to make.
Unlike Steven and Marc, Jake wasn’t about to stand around and let everyone step all over you. Nah, if anyone fucks with his girl, he fucked them right back. He didn’t know exactly how it happened, but with him fronting and assigned to fetch you from your office, it was the biggest mistake Marc and Steven had ever decided to do for the day.
Unlike Marc or Steven–especially Steven, his eyes was not only focused on you the moment you had stepped out of the doors. He had eyes everywhere. He notices the smallest of details that Marc or Steven might have disregarded because of their focus solely on you. But not him, he loved you, adored you and the only woman he could openly admit he was more than willing to worship for as long as he was alive. He saw the smallest nudge one of your co-workers had done that almost had you missing your step had he not been quick enough to catch you.
He doesn’t say much about what had happened, but he knew you didn’t want to acknowledge it as much and fearing he might make a scene that would ruin whatever reputation you still had in the office you work in. But he remembers faces, got a few people he knows that might help with putting a name to those faces. He will deal with it later, his attention was solely focus on you at this point.
“How’s work, Mi Amor?” He inquired, face softening with how you were quick to wrap your arms around his torso–ignoring the fact that the both of you were still standing in the middle of the reception hall.
“Tiring, but got shorter shifts for the next few months.” You explained against his chest, pulling away an inch to crane your head to look right up at him. “Can’t say the same for the rest of the colleagues that need to pick up what I’ll leave behind.” You shrugged.
“Fuck them.” Jake spoke without an ounce of hesitation in his words, caring less now at this point if anyone in your office hears you.
“Now we know who she’s spreading her legs for and why she’s slacking.”
Just like lighting, he moved, quick to place his hand around the man’s throat. He could deal with you telling how much of a piece of shit your co-workers were. He could deal with how they constantly throw most of their own work right at you because you could and you wanted peace to remain in the office. But this, the filth in the man’s words was the last thing he wanted to hear–the last thing he wanted you to hear.
“Jake, don’t.” You pleaded, holding on to his hand that still held onto the poor sorry ass excuse of a man by the throat, one single squeeze and he could break his neck without much of an effort.
“What’s your fucking name?” Jake questioned, eyes solely focused on the man. The man who–from the wet puddle that formed on the floor and the wretched stench after, had pissed and shit himself. “Make me wait another second and I’m gonna make sure no one fucking recognizes your body when I’m done with you.”
“Greg.” The bastard whimpered. No longer was there the bravado from his initial statement.
“Here’s what’s gonna fucking happen, Greg. You and everyone that is in the fucking vicinity of my wife will not harm even a single hair on her fucking body, you will not speak shit that you do not even know about her, and the next time my wife comes home with tears in her eyes because you and the rest of your fucking flock of clowns that can’t do their work properly–we’re gonna have a talk.” Jake’s threats were what aroused both Marc and Steven out of whatever slumber the might have and what a fucking way to wake up to. Him, in the brink of breaking your co-worker’s neck for your honor.
Hearing no verbal confirmation, he cracked his free hand, ready to beat him up just to get a point, but the piece of shit was practically crying and agreeing to whatever condition he might have and apologizing to you for all the shit he has put you through.
“Get out of my face, You puta.” He spat finally letting go of the man’s neck and watching him make a run for it.
The next thing he knows, he was held by the ear by you. Blushing profusely for the incident.
“Are you fucking serious, Lockley?” You snapped, dragging him out of the reception and into the busy streets of London, by the ear of all places.
“Gotta protect what’s mine.” He muttered rubbing his ear as soon as you let go.
“Protect me? You were practically pissing at me for your territory.” You snapped, hands up in the air in your frustration. “I don’t even fucking know if I have anything to go back to in the morning because of your stunt.”
What he failed to tell you, and the rest of his alters was the small little fact that he knows your boss. And all the shit he’s gotten himself involved with over the years, firing you would be the last of his agenda–especially if he knows who you were married to. He did not need to tell you that, knowing this was the safest job you could be in as of the moment–shitty co-workers, but safe from whoever might use you against him when the time comes.
“I think when they find out the shit he’s saying, they’re gonna turn a blind eye if you they want you to not report that for harassments.” He shrugged as a matter of factly only earning an eye roll from you as you started walking towards the apartment with him following quickly behind. Marc and Steven’s voices berating him for his action kept him company all throughout the journey back.
He knew perfectly well you were fuming, but not enough to actually explode on him–which was a surprise for once. He would have thought you would just lose it in the office. But somehow your 'conversation’ with Marc a few days back finally got to you. Things around the apartment was getting more easy for everyone involved, less work meant less stress on your end which meant less tension back home when both of you just want to relax and sleep the night away.
He didn’t realize the door to your shared apartment was locked until the moment he turned the doorknob.
“Really mature, Mi Amor.” He muttered under his breath, pulling out the key from his pocket.
'I don’t blame her for being annoyed. Not one bit.’ Steven points out to which Jake just continued to ignore for now. It wasn’t the time and the place.
He took his time walking inside your shared apartment. Initially it always screamed that of your place as well as Steven, but every since you had found out about him and Marc, you had made it a point to ensure that they were both included in everything in the place. You all had your own coffee cups, with names and all. Everyone had their own towels, toothbrush, hell even their own respective space in the closet and space in the vanity for whatever was in their vanity table. You made this place a home to Steven just as much for him and Marc and that made him fall more and more in love with you. He had his doubts, you know it just as much as everyone else did, but further and further, through all your own faults at times, you made him feel love when all he had known all his life was anger and hatred for the life they had for themselves.
Seeing no sign of you in the living room, he made his way to the bedroom, halting in his step at the sight of you undressing. His eyes glued to your supple skin, your bare ass that he wants nothing more than to mark with his handprint.
“Don’t get your hopes up, Lockley. I’m still mad.” You muttered slowly unhooking your bra, the last remaining article of clothing you had left.
“I ain’t apologizing for keeping you safe, Mi Amor. You know me and you know my ways.” He stood his ground and the fuck he would even dare apologize for it. You’ve dealt with worse without him knowing.
“If I told you to kill someone, you won’t hesitate will you?” Your question was rhetorical but his silence was enough of an answer to your question. “Oh my god, that’s not how it works in life, Jake.”
“You spread your legs to me when I damn well please, but it is no one’s business but our own.” He snapped. “If you can’t earn their respect from working hard and picking up their mess then fear will make sure they know their place in this food chain, Y/N. That is what the real world is like.”
You simply rolled your eyes at him and made your way to the bathroom to which Jake was quick to follow, halting by the door frame and you turned on the shower without him, you were still facing him at this point. Defiance still written on your face.
“I’m serious, Jake. I’m not in the mood after your stunt in the office.” You muttered but his eyes was focused on your soaking body from more than just the water washing over you. The wetness between your legs was more than that.
“I said nothing, Mi Amor.” He smirked, eyes darkening at all of the idea he had for you.
“Jake…”
“I’m a starving man here, Y/N. I can look since I’m not allowed to touch.” He smirked knowing it wouldn’t take much to break you at this point.
“Just get in the shower, Lockley before I change my mind.” You snapped finally turning to face away from him, hiding the evident blush now painting your features.
And that was how Jake found himself in, showering in a far too scalding temperature of the water and consumed by you and your kisses.
“We’re gonna get the sheets wet!” You protest, barely dry from the shower you had with your husband as he carried you bridal style straight to bed.
“I’ll change it after, don’t worry about it.”
All that was important in this moment was him and how quick he can have himself balls deep inside of you.
Somehow with you, now laid on the bed, your still wet hair fanned on the bedsheets, all he could ever want was this. The smile on your face, no matter what shitty thing he might find himself having to do for the sake of the agreement, here you were. With your own demons, but helped each and every part of him with his own–of the neglect and abuse he had to endure at the hands of his own mother for something he never intended to happen as a kid.
You didn’t need much of a preparation, you were slick and ready for him. He pushed himself until he was balls deep inside you just like what he always wanted. He was rough, he held you by the neck. Not tight to cause you to lose conscience, but tight enough to constrict your airway. His other hand held onto your leg wide, until your knee was touching your shoulder. He pounded over you over and over again. The sound of the bed continued to squeak, the headboard slamming onto the wall over and over again, and your breathy whimper continued to escape your lips.
“I will kill anyone and everyone that would even think of looking at your general direction.” He spat jerking himself over and over again deep inside you, the sensation of hitting your cervix brought him close to the edge. “I am Vengeance, for you and for whatever Khonshu would want from me.” He snarled.
Letting go of your neck, he lifted your other leg and practically bent you in half as he continued to fuck you even faster, dragging you right towards the much needed release alongside him.
“Come on, Mi Amor.” He growl. “Where is the fight in you?” He taunts. “Where is the fucking fight just moments ago when I threatened that sorry excuse of a man.”
“I’m close.” You sobbed instead, hand rubbing against your core and Jake just found himself watching. The desperation in your eyes as you continuous to chase your orgasm.
His spat all the profanities he could, how he owned you, how you will be painted in the blood of all of his enemies, and how he would make you watch him skin the next person that would even dare try to hurt you. How you tightened at the last two brought him into chaos and satisfaction.
“Fuck!” He groaned as you’ve finally found your release, how you were now gripping onto his like a vice and he continued on with his movement until he felt the first spurt then lines after lines after.
Your eyes rolled back as you finally stilled.
Silence lingered in your bedroom and only now did he hear the sound of his neighbor knocking to keep it down and something he chose to ignore for now.
He peppered your legs a few kisses before finally bringing them back down and rubbing your side while you come down from your high. You were panting just as much as he was as he finally pulled away with a pop and the sight of his cum pooling between your legs almost brought turned him rock hard all over again.
“You’re staying here tonight.” You pointed out finally turning to look at him. “If you even think of doing the stunt you’ve done in the office now, I swear to God I’ll be the one to talk to Khonshu to kick your ass.”
He rolled his eyes falling onto the bed and pulling you to his naked chest. He wasn’t gonna do it.
“Promise me.”
“I promise I ain’t gonna leave the apartment tonight.” he muttered.
“That’s not what I want you to promise, Jake.”
“I ain’t gonna promise something I’m not gonna keep. I’m here tonight, in bed with you for your beck and call, so be happy about that.” He grumbled.
“Jake!”
“One more word, Mi Amor and that mouth of yours will be busy with something else instead.”
Silence. That’s more like it.
“You’re an asshole, Lockley.”
Always wanting to have the last word.
Since you’ve learned about your husband’s extra curricular activities every night, you’ve gotten more comfortable with late nights. The array of self-defense lessons you’ve gotten from both Marc and Jake had also been helpful. Steven was more into helping you talk your way out of numerous trouble you might find yourself getting involved in. Your confidence had been a little better now, no longer did you have your self-doubt about yourself and with how you work. You have your husbands to thank for it. You were trying hard to better yourself and help him with his own day to day trials and being able to be there for them when they need you the most was the first real reason why you needed to take the first step for your own betterment.
“I’m surprised they’ve let you out all on your own.”
Turning from where you were walking, you know perfectly well the owner of the voice.
“Following me is far beneath you, Khonshu.” You pointed out, gazing at one of the buildings to see him settled. “Never thought of you as a Voyeur too.” You teased watching as the older God had descended down and surprisingly turned into the image of your husband.
“Still a worm, I see.” He sneers to which you roll your eyes and continue on your walk to the convenience store for something to eat while your husband was out–well technically he was here, but you really are confused as hell if it’s really him or if Khonshu is just fucking with you at this point.
“Still a bird brain I see.” You quipped hearing him follow you far too close for you to be comfortable with–even if this was your husband. “Is that really my husband or is this another one of your party tricks?”
“Unfortunately, I have to carry this bag of potatoes back to you.” He grunts.
You smiled, holding onto the God (your husband’s) hand in appreciation. He might be a little grouchy from time to time, but you appreciate that he still cares for your husband and would rather he be taken home in his own terms than left to fend for himself. It seems the God has a soft spot for them.
You’ve made your way to the convenience store with your hand still holding on to his own, from an outsider’s perspective, all they could see was normal and far too handsome man for his own good. But you saw differently from the reflection. You held onto your husband’s rough but gentle hands but the reflection was showing that of Khonshu is his form. You should have been scared by such fact but you didn’t. Your husbands trusted you enough with the truth of his line of work, and with all the rhyme and reason when it comes to the God, you know perfectly well he has a soft spot for you–you might just buy him his own set of stuff for the apartment when you have the free time.
“Brought you gummy worms as well.” You point out once the both of you headed out of the convenience store with the plastic bag filled with far too many unhealthy snacks.
“Why am I not surprised.”
“You’ll love it, Birdman.” You teased right back as the both of you finally made your way back to the apartment and handing Khonshu the bag of gummies, you had ordered him to strip to his underwear and sit on the bed while you inspect the damage of this night’s mission.
“Is this a daily occurance for all of you?” He inquired, trying his best to keep a straight face while chewing the extremely sour gummy worms.
“I need to make sure there’s nothing that needs stitches.” You pointed out, lifting his arm seeing the bruises starting to form. “I know he’s sort of–but not really, invincible at this point, but it helps me to know they’re all fine.” You explained, trying to feel for his ribs, checking if there was anything broken and you rose a brow at how the God who was still possessing your husband’s breath had hitched at your touch.
You continued on with your inspection, the God no longer focused on his gummies, but instead on the way you were touching him. How your hands would be gentle still, fearing something might hurt or if he was sore. You rolled your eyes and pushed him down onto his back without much of a fight from him. He’s got it bad.
“Get out of the body Khonshu so I could talk to my husbands.” You requested, hand cupping the evidently growing erection confined in his boxers.
“A tease you are, Y/N.” He muttered eyes rolling and the familiar scream of Steven was there to replace it as he sat up and ready to fight.
“Where am I?” He questioned looking at his surroundings before easing himself as he caught sight of you. “Love? What happened? I blackedout.”
“Khonshu was nice enough to bring you guys home.” You assured. “Kicked him out of your body before he gets any funny ideas.” You continued.
“A tease!” You and your husband turned to see Khonshu floating by the window watching your conversation.
“I knew you were a voyeur, Birdman.” You teased confusing your husband further and Khonshu finally decided he has enough and left you both alone for some much needed privacy for the night.
Summary: With the death of your good friend and sugar daddy, you were left as the sole benefactor to his entire estate and given sole ownership to his company, which in turn, brought your whole world upside down and eventually had you pay it forward. Who would have ever thought it would be in the form of the ball of Sunshine named Steven Grant, and the secret he wasn’t so keen on letting anyone know about.
Characters: Steven Grant x F!Reader. Marc Spector x F!Reader. Jake Lockley x F!Reader. Tony Stark. Peter Parker. May Parker. Happy Hogan. Matt Murdock. Pepper Potts.
Series Warnings: Modern AU (No powers). Sugar Daddy/Mommy-Baby Relationship(s). Dissociative Identity Disorder. Mention of Trauma and other Unspecified Mental Disorder. Smut. Canon Typical Violence. Mention of Medical Assisted Suicide. Mention of Terminal Illness.
A/N: This took weeks to write but I enjoyed it immensely. A huge thank you to my co-writer for your hours of help brainstorming, editing, laughing and crying. You’re bloody brilliant and I love you!
Pairing: Steven Grant x Marc Spector x Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader (established relationship)
Word Count: 5k+
CW/TW: Heavy angst, smut, fluff, mentions of mental illness, strong language, mild stalking
Summary: Sick of being on the sidelines all the time, you stir up trouble with a new threat to Moon Knight, and find yourself in the middle of a bad situation. Marc, Steven, and Jake are not pleased when they find out. ~*~*~*~
Summary:Jake hates you. Like really hates you, which wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t dating Steven and Marc. But maybe, just maybe, Jake doesn’t hate you.
Fluff?, angst, hurt/comfort
Pairing:Jake Lockley x f!reader, hint of Marc Spector x f!reader x Steven Grant
Warnings:Mentions of abusive relationships, reader was in an abusive relationship, allusions to sex, hurt/comfort, maybe a little OOC??, as always I did my best to accurately represent DID, is this fic a little problematic? maybe
–
The problem with dating Steven and Marc was not balancing Steven and Marc. The problem was Jake Lockley.
You lay sprawled on Marc’s chest, stickiness between your thighs, a fine sheen of sweat covering your skin and his as you drew deep breaths. A cloud of post-orgasmic bliss hovered around you both as you tilted your head up to kiss his jaw. You were relishing these last moments with Marc, knowing that Steven had the long weekend off which meant you’d be living with Jake for a few days.
The rise and fall of Marc’s chest as he breathed deep and murmured soft praises lulled you into an easy sleep. And sure enough, a few hours later you were awakened by the man beneath you shifting you off him so he could turn on his side and put his back to you. Jake hated cuddling. Jake hated the little notes you left for him, Steven, and Marc. Jake hated when you cooked for him. Jake hated you.
