Summary: You can’t tell if it takes you a day a week or a month to fall in love with Steven. You just know that you do.
Warnings: There’s a Super Super Super brief description of bandaged wounds in the Friday section. there’s nothing graphic but just in case you should know that’s there.
Author’s Note: Hi I’m still obsessed with him your honor. It is once again, not beta read because somehow the idea of roping one of my friends into proofreading my unhinged softness is too embaressing for me ajlkfjdslfjdlksajflkdjas
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It starts on a Tuesday at noon.
You hate Tuesdays of course, you’ve always had an issue with them since you were little, the first one to throw them under the bus in defense of Mondays. This Tuesday was particularly bad though, as if the whole of the universe had ganged up on you to make you regret ever learning the name for the worst day of the week.
AN: I’m obsessed with Steven and I feel like i’m going insane refreshing the xreader tag for him so I made my own adjlfkadjsflkjsadd. Not beta read, very mushy because that’s how he makes me feel. Enjoy!
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It’s soft, the way Steven loves you. It’s in the way he plays with your fingers at night when he’s procrastinating falling asleep, his dark eyes tracing your face in the low light as if committing you to memory over again despite taking the same actions every night.
Prompt:pulling your lover into your arms, kissing their cheek as you comfort them (requested by anon for my 3k follower celebration!)
Warnings: fluff, neighbor!reader, mention of nightmares, hurt/comfort, kisses, sweetness, pining, brief appearance by Marc too
Notes: Even though this fic is not explicit, my blog still is so please do not read or interact if you are under 18 thank you. Thanks so much for the request anon, I loved this prompt so much!! And it works so well with Steven cause he deserves the world!! I have an update only blog too to stay up to date on when I post @flightlessangelwings-updates
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A pained scream woke you up from a peaceful dream and immediately you were on high alert. Without hesitation, you jumped out of bed and rushed to the door as another scream echoed against the wall you shared with your neighbor, Steven Grant. This wasn’t the first time you’d woken up to the sounds of his agony while he slept, but this time seemed more urgent than before. Quickly, you grabbed your keyring, which included the spare key he gave you, and bolted out the door.
“Steven?!” you pounded at his door first. Dread filled your mind as you heard him yell and thrash around inside, “Steven, I’m coming in!” you called through the door as you slid the key in with shaky hands.
Summary: Two years after Marc’s return, life with him and Steven seems to be going the way you always wanted it to, until blood starts to drip again.
Warnings:Pregnancy, blood loss, possible death, breastfeeding kink? (Steven).
Feedback is really appreciated! If you like this comment please!
Italics are flashbacks!
Gif credits to their respective owner!
“Oh, Marc…” she moaned, throwing her head back as she felt herself on the verge of climax. Marc, who was underneath her, gripped her hips firmly and set a faster pace, further increasing the pleasure for both of them.
“Hold on a little longer, baby.” He growled after biting his lips and watching his wife, bouncing on top of him. He brought one of his hands to her clitoris and began massaging it again. She was so overstimulated, the slightest touch caused her to roll her eyes at the incredible sensation. “You’re a fucking goddess- Ah- Fuck, baby!” He brought one of his hands to one of her breasts and pinched the nipple.
“Kiss me. Marc, kiss me.” She moaned at the oncoming wave of pleasure. Marc slipped his arm around her waist, bringing them closer together. Or as close as possible. “Fuck, fuck. Come inside me. Oh—.”
Marc kissed her, and she finished, letting out a majestic moan that ended up encouraging the dark-eyed man to finish too, inside her, in the most intimate way possible.
“We’re very good at this.” He joked as he rested his forehead against hers and sighed contentedly.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him rather shyly. “So good that we ended up like this.” She whispered tenderly as she lowered her gaze to her belly, now rounded and covered with a thin layer of sweat, just like the rest of her and her husband’s body.
Marc brought the hand he had been holding at her waist up to her belly, which he caressed tenderly.
“Mourning for me is to give importance to something, to learn to live, to honour something. You have to name it and explore it, whether it was something that happened or not.”
“Like that life we could never have?”
“For example.”
“It still seems like a dream that we’ve come this far, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.” He replied, “The life we thought we could never have… it turns out we’ve managed to create it. Quite literally.”
"I’m glad to be able to do it with you.” She caressed her husband’s face, looking intently at every detail of his beautiful face. At last, after so many years of suffering, it reflected serenity. “Steven and you are going to be the best thing our daughter could have. She’s very lucky, I’m very lucky too.”
“Lucky us, darling.” Steven spoke, taking control, for the first time in a while. He looked at her with awe and devotion, as if she were one of the Egyptian deities that fascinated him so much.
They loved her, they were lucky.
“I couldn’t agree more with Steven.” Marc said now.
After hearing those words, she kissed him. Well, them. Lovingly and passionately.
Round 2 perhaps was coming?
It was 3:17 in the morning when things started to get complicated. To get ugly.
An immense pain ran through her abdomen and back. Everything was spinning, she felt weak. Really weak. A few moments after trying to overcome the feeling of dizziness, she felt something wet and warm between her legs. She tried to sit up again and awkwardly put a hand to her crotch.
“No, no, no. No… it can’t be, it’s still too early.” whispered in panic. “Marc…!” She tried to call out to her husband in the darkness, she couldn’t see anything. “Marc?” She received no answer. “Ste-Steven?”
Trying to find the switch for the lamp, which was on the bedside table, another wave of pain came over her, but this time with much more intensity, causing her to groan in pain and clutch her belly. Once the light was on, she looked at her hand, which she had previously taken to the wet spot to see what it was.
However, she did not expect to find blood on it. Panicking, she pulled back the sheets that covered her and was able to see the whole thing, horrified and shocked.
Blood. A lot of blood.
The side of the bed where she slept was awash with the warm dark scarlet liquid. It wasn’t until she could smell it that she turned her head in the direction of the side where her husband used to sleep. “Marc.” She said panicking, her face pale, lacking its usual colour. Tears began to form. Marc was missing.
“So if it’s a girl, do you want to name her Layla?” Steven asked her as he tried to assemble the baby’s crib
“Yes.” Replied the soon-to-be-mom as she rocked in the chair, stroking her not-so-swollen belly. “Why? Don’t you think it’s a good idea?”
Steven shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong, the name is beautiful and I adore Layla…but do you think it’s a good idea to name your daughter after your husband’s ex-girlfriend?” Steven asked, tightening one of the screws on the crib. He looked at the woman who hadn’t answered him.
“I have you both because of her. She’s the one who made Marc come back to me, who made him come to his senses to fight for us and not let his fears get the better of him. Thanks to her I have you too, Steven.” She paused slightly as she stood up and walked over to stand next to him, where she sat down on the floor next to the man. “She’s a great person, and a very dear friend. I feel it’s the least I can do.”
“Well…” said Steven, placing a hand on his wife’s, squeezing it lovingly, as he nodded his head. “It sounds like the right name for our daughter. Well… in case it’s a girl.”
She planted a kiss on his cheek. “I’m glad we agree.” She whispered with a goofy grin.
“I didn’t say I agreed.” Marc intervened in the conversation, being the one who took control of the body.
The woman sighed. “Ugh, Marc…” she complained, dropping her head on his shoulder.
“I like the name, I really do, but I think we’re overdoing it. I think it’s a little weird that my wife wants to name our daughter after my ex. Nothing more.” Spoke the soon-to-be-dad in an accelerated manner.
“And what do you think our daughter should be named?” she folded her arms, waiting for an answer from the dark-haired man.
“Well… I’m not sure, but I like this nickname, as a diminutive of-”
”-Tattie. He likes Tattie, as a nickname.“ Steven interrupted Marc, who as he regained control of his body frowned.
"Steven…” sighed Marc in exasperation.
“And what the hell is Tattie diminutive of?”
“Well, it’s short for-”
“-Taweret!” Steven cut Marc off again.
“Steven!” Marc exclaimed. “Stop interrupting me.”
“You want to call our daughter Taweret!?” Exclaimed the female before letting out a laugh. “I love Taweret, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to name our daughter after an Egyptian goddess. She’d get bullied at the playground. And besides, if I’m not mistaken, in Scotland they use that word for the potatoes. I think.”
“Hey, I didn’t laugh when you said Leyla. Besides, she’s the one who helped us get back from the Duat.”
The woman stopped laughing when she heard that part. The fact that she had discovered that Marc had died when he had left her to protect her was something that every time the subject came up, she shuddered. She felt guilty in a way, responsible for not being able to stop him from leaving, from dying. She always felt her heart sinking.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed. You’re right, it makes sense that you would want to call our daughter that.” As she spoke, he caressed her cheeks and then placed a kiss on her forehead, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of his lips on her. “But now that I think about it… Tattie makes sense, the baby won’t be much bigger than a potato now.”
“Small potato!” Steven exclaimed bringing his face close to the level of her belly. “Oi! How’s it going in there, sweetheart?”
She giggled, as she listened intently to the nonsense, the caresses and kisses that landed on her belly Marc and Steven, as they took turns doing it.
“You’re going to be a show as parents.” She commented in a murmur, shaking my head.
When she tried to get out of bed her whole body was shaking and everything was spinning, as she clumsily moved towards the door awkwardly, she kept calling out for her husband, who showed no signs of life.
“Where could he have gone?” she thought, over and over again. “Marc… Steven? I-I need you-” she tried to hold back her sobs.
It couldn’t be possible that this was happening.
“Guys…” she couldn’t hold back her sobs as she looked down at her legs and saw that her pajama trousers were completely stained with blood. She looked down at the floor as well, and could see the trail of blood she had been leaving from the bed to the door of her room. “Tattie…” she moaned in pain, in tears, as she put both hands to her belly.
She couldn’t lose her. Not her baby.
Not now.
“I want to try something. Well, Steven wants to try something.” Marc moaned as he thrusted inside her, again and again, fast and hard. Just the way she liked it so much.
God, how they loved to feel and hear her. To praise her, to touch her, to kiss her, to pleasure her.
“Oh? What-what do you want to try? You know you can- Fuck! Ow- oh! He can try anything he wants. He-he ah! He knows.” She closed her eyes, as she felt her husband’s lips on her neck, slowly moving down to her breasts, now larger and rounder due to her state. “Ahh… Steven do whatever you want to me. I’m yours, completely.”
Steven continued to thrust inside her with the same intensity. “You don’t know how much I love to hear that, darling.” He said, giving her a look, watching as she closed her eyes at the pleasure coursing through her body.
Seeing her reaction to his touch.
Then he took one of her breasts into his mouth and began to suck on it, not forgetting, of course, to massage the other one and play with her sensitive nipple.
“Sweet.” He murmured after his first taste of that white liquid that first came out of her breast. “You have no idea how sweet you are.”
“Don’t even think about stopping.” She moaned, clinging her legs to his hips as she ran her hands through his hair.
And so he continued.
The house was completely dark, except for the small light coming from down the hallway and passing under the bathroom door at the end of the hall. She could hear water running, possibly from the shower. It sounded like someone was in there.
“Steven?” she encouraged herself to ask in the dark, in a faint voice, as she slowly made her way forward, leaning against the wall. “Something’s not right. The baby…” she tried to contain herself, once again. “Something’s not right.”
Her legs failed as she stumbled over something on the floor. She fell to her knees and hands, and that’s when she came across something she hadn’t expected to see.
A gun, large caliber.
What the fuck?
She looked up as she heard the water stop, and could see a shadow, underneath the door, moving towards to open it.
It was a Sunday afternoon, the weather was fine and the breeze was warm, that was the day he first said those words.
“I love you.” Steven broke the silence, looking down at her. She was holding his head in her lap and playing with his hair. They were lying on the grass in the park, the one not far from their house. It was her favourite, because of simple details like that. “I love you.” He repeated with a big smile on his face.
“I love you too.” It was the first time they’d both said it, even though they’d already spent two years getting to know each other and living together as a couple. Well, as a trio rather. “Very much.”
“Fucking finally, man. I’m glad you said it already.” Marc commented, taking control of his body. “But just so you know, I was here first, Steven.” Marc joked.
“I love you too, Mr. Spector.”
“I know. How not to.”
“You cheeky bastard.”
That man, who appeared to be Marc or Steven, leaned against the door frame, arms folded, as he stared at her silently. He had a towel tied around his waist, water dripping down the rest of his body, from his tousled, curly hair. He looked at her with curiosity
“I need help…”
“I can see that.” Said that familiar, yet unfamiliar voice. It was like Marc and Steven’s, but different. More indifferent. Cold. Distant.
She gave him a glance right after hearing his words, she could see him approaching her. “There is too much blood.” He commented as he looked at the huge stain on her pajamas and the trail she had left behind her. “It’s not all yours though, don’t worry.”
It was then, thanks to the bathroom light that now illuminated the entire hallway, that she could see a pile of clothes, which belonged to her boys, stained with blood next to her. “Who the fuck are you?” She asked him through her teeth.
“Oh, right. We’ve never met before.” Spoke the man she didn’t recognise, as he squatted down in front of her. “You don’t know how hard it’s been to hide and not give any indication of my existence. It’s exhausting.”
She let out a grunt at what had been the worst wave of pain she had ever felt. She could feel more blood welling up, too, and trickling down her thighs to the floor. Still, she never took her eyes off the stranger.
Everything began to spin more and more. She knew she would not be conscious much longer.
“Excuse my manners, bonita.” He let out a small laugh, then grabbed her chin and made her look him in the eye. “My name is Jake Lockley, and I am the new owner of this body.”
Her arms and knees failed her, she fell back to the ground. She struggled to stay awake, to stay alert. She could feel, still, familiar arms pick her up off the ground and carry her firmly. She could smell their scent, Marc and Steven’s. That comforted her.
She didn’t know where the man was taking her. Jake Lockley. She didn’t have time to worry either, because everything went black.
She no longer felt anything.
But deep down she hoped that everything was going to be all right.
This weekend, hopefully tonight, I’ll post the second part of I CAN ALMOST SEE YOU! There will be a bit of Smut, Fluff, and Angst. We will also have Soft!Marc and Soft!Steven! So if you’re interested and want me to tag you, just interact with this post and check the fist part, perhaps?✨
Blissfully lying in a deep sleep, you remain unaware of the torment Steven is enduring whilst standing at the end of his bed, watching you with a small smile crossing his lips.
“But it’s Y/n.” Steven moves away from his bed, not wanting to risk causing you to stir. “She’s my best mate, Marc.” Facing a mirror, with slumped shoulders, Marc runs his hands over his face in annoyance.
“She can’t know anything, Steven.” Marc reminds his counter for the fifth time this evening. “It’s not safe for her to know, she’ll be in danger because of it.”
Yet, it doesn’t seem to matter how much Marc drills the point into Steven. The moment his head turns to look back over at you, curled up on top of his bed with your eyes closed and a pillow close to your chest, he just can’t help himself.
“I tell her everything, Marc.” Steven begins, unaware of Marc rolling his eyes. “She’s the only one in the whole world who doesn’t think I’m some kind of nutter. She’s trying to help me with this sleep disorder, and even when I told her that she didn’t leave me.”
And then it clicks. Marc shifts in the mirror, catching a glimpse of the expression across Steven’s face. His eyes soften, his frown reduces and his shoulders are no longer slumped.
“You’re in love with her.” Marc resolutes.
A breath leaves Steven’s lips. “Yeah, I think I am.” He admits. “Which is why I don’t want to lie to her, Marc. We can trust Y/n.” He presses further, approaching the mirror once more.
“It’s just not safe,” Marc starts, but Steven cuts him off.
“What? Because of Layla, huh?” Steven retorts sharply, noticing Marc’s jaw tensing.
“Don’t go there, Steven.” Gritting his teeth, Marc can halts, sensing something shifting.
“Steven?” A tired voice calls out, causing Steven to snap out of his thoughts and turn abruptly on his feet, rather clumsily, to face you.
Walking toward you, Steven perches on the edge of his bed, unable to stop his heart from almost leaping out of his chest as you rub your eyes. “You alright?” He asks softly, unsure of his own voice.
Nodding, you sit upright. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to nod off. I was listening to you, I swear, it’s just Donna really pissed me off today and I,” Cutting yourself off with a yawn, you hold your hands up in annoyance. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, love.” Steven can’t stop himself, it’s too late to take it back.
His eyes widen at the realisation. ’Too late to take it back now, buddy.’ Marc remarks.
“Is everything okay, Steven?” You ask, swallowing your own heartbeat from his comment. “Have you been able to sleep at all tonight?”
And there it is, one of the reasons he can’t help but fall in love with you. You’re forever checking on him in a gentle way, always ensuring he’s okay and if he’s not, you’ll try to help in any way you can.
Shaking his head, you shuffle from your spot to sit beside him.
“There’s something I’ve not been honest about,” Steven begins, his voice shaking. He glances up to see a reflection of Marc on a framed poster, frowning at him.
Without thinking, you take his hand in yours. “Hey, it’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready.” Your thumb brushes across his hand, soothing as ever.
“No, I am.” Steven tells himself more than you. “It’s all just too much.” He tries to remain confident, but his walls are breaking down.
“Come here,” You mutter, helping him to lie down on the bed and into your arms. “let’s just try and get some sleep, yeah?” His head remains on your chest, breathing in your scent now mixed with his from the sheets.
Closing his eyes, he can feel Marc’s comments subside. “Y/n?” Steven speaks up, opening his eyes to look up at you.
Your soft gaze fixates on him as you lift your hand up to brush his curls away from his forehead. “Yeah?” Whispering back, a tired smile forms on your face, causing your eyes to crinkle slightly.
The words fail Steven. “Thank you.” He tells you instead, before lowering his head back down, holding back the tears threatening to fall.
“Any time, Steven.” You’re unsure if he can hear how fast your heart is beating, and if he can, he might be ignoring it. “That’s what mates are for.” You remind him, closing your eyes to drift off once more.
pairing: steven grant x fem!reader (mentions of marc)
genre: pwp, smut
word count: 1.6k
warnings: glove kink, exhibitionism (they do it on the roof but no one sees), vaginal s.ex, dirty talking, rough s.ex, reader is aware of alters and moon knight, creampie, dom!steven, sub!reader
The way the cold wind brushes the loose strands out of your face, the way it rouses goosebumps across your skin. You love the lights, they remind you of the stars but instead of the sky they decorate the very earth you walk on. You look down on the city from the rooftop, everything seems so tiny.
premise: you don’t know how this came to be; steven fucking you in front of a mirror. your body and pleasure showcased to marc, to prove a point, to show him steven knows best.
pairing: steven grant x (f)reader
word count: 839
warnings: minors dni please, marc x reader are mentioned and alluded in here but not shown, unprotected sex, literally just smut, dom!steven, teasing, voyeurism in a sense.
etc: this is based on thisandthis ask, i kind of strayed from the initial idea since i plan on writing a version of this, but not quite the same, with marc and other oscar characters, but me writing steven as a dom? shocking i know lmao.
i do not give anyone permission to translate or repost my work, please be respectful — if you enjoyed please comment or reblog!
“Does he do it better than me?” Steven hums, you’ve never heard his voice so deeply coated with jealousy and lust. The dynamic the three of you had was always so well laid out, who spent this time with you one day, or that time another day. Sometimes both of them at once. There had never been any fighting over you, over the moments shared with one of the other. It was an equal playing ground, you adored them both the same as they loved you the same.
— STEVEN GRANT FINALLY HAD TO ADMIT TO HIMSELF THAT HE NEEDED HELP. Professional help that is, it took a while for him to understand that he was at his limit for a mental breakdown. He knew he needed to talk to someone other than the statue man on the street. Someone who would actually respond to when he ranted and well, he searched around for a therapist and found you.
Steven was quite nervous to start therapy, any person was really. To share your vulnerability was scary and Steven only ever been vulnerable with the lively statue by the fountain. His heart pounded in his chest as he shifted on his feet staring at the door with a frosted plane window with your last name on it. Steven was muttering underneath his breath trying to convince himself to go in.
“Don’t be mental, you need this Steven. You just need help.” Steven whispered to himself, staring at the plane, he saw the reflection shift a bit but he didn’t move. He brought the back of his clenched fist to his eyes and rubbed them furiously. “I definitely gone mental.”
With his series of muttering gradually becoming louder, suddenly, the door opened causing him to jump in his spot, taking a step back. Your head peeked out the door with furrowed brows and parted lips. Steven felt his breath caught in his throat staring at you with wide eyes. You were simply breathtaking. The way your [color] eyes stared at him in curiosity but with such softness that made him drown in those hues, losing himself all over again.
The way your hair fell over your face and your plump lips quirking into a soft smile. “Oh! You must be Steven Grant!” You beamed happily, opening the door more and stepping by the door frame. “I heard noises out here and I thought one of my neighbors was disturbing you.”
The character development of Steven where he negotiates with Khonshu like baby couldn’t even talk to a lady without getting nervous. Now he can tell an ancient God to hush up. Pop off Mr.Knight.
pairing: steven grant x fem!reader (mentions of marc)
genre: pwp, smut
word count: 1.6k
warnings: glove kink, exhibitionism (they do it on the roof but no one sees), vaginal s.ex, dirty talking, rough s.ex, reader is aware of alters and moon knight, creampie, dom!steven, sub!reader
The way the cold wind brushes the loose strands out of your face, the way it rouses goosebumps across your skin. You love the lights, they remind you of the stars but instead of the sky they decorate the very earth you walk on. You look down on the city from the rooftop, everything seems so tiny.
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.
