Synopsis: On days when Defender struggles and the stares of others make him question whether he even belongs in that universe, the reader's love and care is the only thing that can make him feel better.
Word Count: 4,6k
Warnings: SMUT: Oral sex with male receiving, daddy roleplay (just a little), slight male domination, deep throat, cum eating.
A/N: This one belongs to the multi stephens universe. It was supposed to be full smut, but something changed along the way and it ended up a little sad, with a fluffy ending. Really hope you guys enjoy it and have a nice reading;)
Defender was tired. More than usual. The day had been extremely exhausting with training at Kamar Taj and preparations for the next mission that had left him stuck in the Avengers Tower all afternoon.
After what seemed like a 24-hour shift, he still had the brilliant—not so brilliant—idea to stop at the market to buy ingredients for dinner. At the time it seemed like a good idea since he liked to cook to relax, but as he walked home with paper bags full of groceries in his hands, he wasn't so sure anymore.
He had walked home instead of simply opening a portal because he didn't like using magic to do normal things, but a part of him that afternoon knew that the real reason he had walked the three blocks even though he was super tired was because he didn't want to have people staring at him even more than usual.
Since arriving in that universe, Defender had been receiving hostile looks from people on the streets. Stephen said that he also received them, and it was true, but the intensity and frequency of those stares were less with him because he was the Doctor Strange of that universe. Defender, on the other hand, was an intruder. A stranger from an universe that he should ironically have defended and failed to.
That thought accompanied him on the way home, contributing to making him feel even more down than he already was after the meeting with the Avengers - where he discovered that he would have to leave on a mission in two days.
It was Friday, and all he didn't want was to have to travel on Sunday after the tiring week he had.
When the Sanctum door opened and closed for him as it always did, he was greeted by the house's welcome silence, but also by the stunning figure that ran towards him: flowing hair, barefoot, and a white babydoll that was transparent enough to reveal her beautiful breasts.
You ran towards him with enthusiasm, and he barely had time to put the bags on the counter and get past the entrance hall when you caught up with him and simply threw yourself into his arms, kissing him with an intensity that was clearly not the usual welcoming kiss. You practically devoured him in that kiss. Tongue, teeth, saliva.
Everything showed that something was different, and no matter how tired he was, his body responded to that kiss in all the right ways.
When you finally broke the kiss so you could breathe, Defender didn't have time to speak or even think because you simply knelt at his feet, gazing at him with loving eyes.
"I waited patiently for you, daddy, but you took so long." You made a point of pouting, which made his cock throb immediately in his confines.
He wasn't expecting a reception like that. Especially since it was Friday, and Fridays belonged to Stephen, but he didn't see the good doctor there, and at that moment he had no intention of questioning, so he just brought one of his hands to your face and cupped your cheek affectionately and let out a soft chuckle.
"I had a complicated day, baby. But if I'd known you were waiting for me like this, daddy would have tried to hurry." He said, allowing himself to tune into your behavior, and you almost purred in response, leaning your face against his hand and closing your eyes as if that touch was the thing you'd been waiting for your whole life.
The use of the word "daddy" and the dominance it implied wasn't really his thing, but he knew you liked it, and it was something very common between you and your Stephen, so when you rarely sought him out in that way, he'd play along and always ended up enjoying it quite a bit. Control was his thing after all.
"I don't think I've ever seen this beautiful babydoll before. Did you buy it to wear with daddy on a special occasion?" He probed, and you nodded.
"Yes. But I couldn't wait until tomorrow, and today seems as special an occasion as any because you're here and I love you."
That made Stephen's heart leap in his chest. He never doubted your love for him, but it was always special when you spoke the words that way.
"And now that I know you've had a tough day, I want to make it up to you even more." You said, taking both hands to his belt and slowly unbuckling it. At no point did you break eye contact, and the image of you dressed like that, kneeling in front of him and opening the fly of his pants was powerful enough to elicit a groan from his throat.
He definitely wasn't expecting a reception like that, but he was loving every second of it.
You eagerly slipped your hand inside his underwear and pulled his cock out, immediately spitting on it to get it wet enough for you to slide your hands up and down. Both hands. Squeezing it hard enough to make him see stars, but never too hard. Those hands were magic. He never tired of saying how fascinated he was by your touch.
"Shit, baby. Daddy wasn't expecting that." He exclaimed, watching in amazement as you danced the tip of your tongue on his head while slowly moving your hands along its length. It was simple and efficient. And just like that, you had him literally and especially metaphorically in your hands. Melting for you.
"But you want it, don't you?" You asked, giving his head a light suck. The act quick enough to tease him and make him beg for more. No. Not begging. You didn't want him to beg that night, you wanted him to demand.
"Oh fuck yes, my sweet girl. Daddy wants it so much. Just look how hard daddy's cock is right now. It's painful. You must take care of it for daddy, okay? Make me feel good."
You moaned into his dick. Loud and obscenely, you ran your lips down its length, giving light sucks interspersed with licks, and Defender found himself intertwining his fingers in your hair. He brushed it away from your face and held it in an improvised ponytail, which gave him a much better view of his work on him. And he loved watching as you took him in your mouth, but he knew you didn't want his submissive side to show that night. You needed him to take control. You were craving his dominance, and that's what he gave you.
"That's right, baby girl, mouth feels good rubbing daddy's cock like that, but I need more now." He said, taking his cock in one hand and giving himself a couple of jerks before ordering.
"Open that mouth for me. Wider. That's a good girl," he said, watching you obey him completely. He shoved his cock halfway into your mouth. It was as much as you could take without gagging, and you immediately started sucking, emptying your cheeks to increase the suction, and his legs trembled as a loud groan escaped his mouth. Too loud.
Your mouth was warm, wet, and delicious. Your tongue worked wonders around his cock as you sucked it, and that was always enough for him. Defender liked gentle, slow oral sex. He liked that you took him at your own pace, without forcing it too much, without going too deep. For him, it was more than enough, but at that moment he felt tempted to demand more.
He took advantage of the fact that he already had your hair in his hand and pushed your head down, making you take it deeper, and that made you hum happily and immediately relax your mouth so he could fuck you the way you wanted. And the wet sound his cock made going in and out of your mouth was the most obscene and delicious thing Defender had ever heard in his life. He was so hard, his cock throbbed with every thrust he gave, and he knew that if he continued at that pace he would end up cumming in your mouth.
"F-fuck baby, mouth feels so good that makes daddy want to cum." He said, going even deeper and watching you gag around him. Tears welled up in your eyes, and for some reason that made him smile, but he pulled his cock out of your mouth and caressed your cheek affectionately.
"My sweet baby likes it when daddy fucks her throat, doesn't she? Is that why you're crying? Happy tears?" He teased.
You smiled and nodded. "Yes, daddy. Please want more."
That made the corners of his lips curve into a smug smile. "Yeah? But daddy will come real soon if we keep this up."
You gave a light bite to your lower lip before replying, "Promise?"
Defender found himself groaning at that. You were such a dirty little thing. He had never seen a woman enjoy cum as much as you did.
"Is that what you want? Want to take cum in your mouth? Will you swallow it all for daddy?"
You nodded. "Yes. And I'll love it."
"I know. You are such a dirty little girl. Aren't you?"
"Just for you." You replied, opening your mouth wider for him. Defender directed his cock into your mouth again and began to move your head the way he wanted. You just rested your hands on his thighs, but let him guide you completely, going deep into your throat.
"Oh shit, that's a good girl." He found himself groaning as he felt his whole body tingle with the sensation of the approaching orgasm. He didn't fight it, he wanted it so badly, it was almost painful.
"F-fuck baby, gonna cum." He warned you when it arrived like a huge wave covering all his senses until only the sensation of his cock in the warmth of your mouth existed.
"S-shit... take it. F-fucking take it." He groaned moving your head and stopping completely, letting his cum fill your mouth. It was so much of it. He hadn't come all week and had barely realized how much he needed it.
When he finished and pulled out, you immediately swallowed the little bit of cum that hadn't gone down your throat with a satisfied little smile. "It was delicious, daddy."
Defender chuckled incredulously, but pleasantly satisfied with the whole thing. However, he made a point of holding your hand and helping you to your feet. There was a limit to how much he could bear the idea of having you like that in front of him. It was as if it went against his nature. To him, you were the most important thing in the entire multiverse.
He was the one who should be kneeling.
He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly.
"I love you, baby."
You cupped his cheek delicately and kissed him. This time the kiss was calm, soft, and you took the lead the way he liked. When you broke to breathe and threatened to pull away, he held you close and rested his forehead on yours, allowing himself to close his eyes and enjoy that moment with you a little longer.
He was still tired, of course, but the bad mood and persistent sadness had eased.
That was your effect on him. You healed him.
Eventually you pulled away and your cheeks flushed slightly as you took the lead and went back to fastening his belts, straightening his red and black robes. It was as if you were becoming aware of just how naughty you had been in that moment.
"What's that?" He teased, caressing your cheek.
You bit your lower lip and confessed, "I don't know what came over me."
He smiled. "I liked it. Very much. I was surprised, but positively surprised."
You nodded, still looking insecure about everything. "I know you're not very into the daddy thing..."
"I like it. I prefer when you take the lead, you know, but I like it. And you get really cute when you are in your baby girl mode." He teased.
That made you blush even harder, and he loved it. He loved how someone so dirty could be so shy sometimes. He loved everything about you.
You glanced away from him for a second, looking at the counter. "You brought groceries."
He had completely forgotten. "Oh, yes. I thought about cooking dinner for us tonight."
You smiled from ear to ear. You loved it when he cooked for you and enjoyed watching him do it. Part of him thought you had a kink for seeing him in the kitchen wearing an apron.
"What are you going to make?" you asked excitedly.
"I haven't decided yet. I bought ingredients to cook risotto with potatoes and a steak with Madeira sauce, and also to make homemade pizza. What do you prefer?"
You pretended to think for a moment before answering. "Pizza."
"Of course." He chuckled softly. Pizza was your favorite food, and since you discovered that Brazilians made sweet pizzas with all sorts of toppings, it had become your favorite dessert too. Knowing this, he had prepared himself by buying a jar of Nutella and a box of strawberries.
"But first I need a shower, baby." He admitted it. The heat in Kathmandu was almost unbearable at that time of year, and he was sweaty and feeling dirty under those heavy robes.
"Can I join you?" You asked softly with a small smile in your lips.
"Yes. Just help me with the groceries first, okay?"
You nodded happily, taking the lead. "I'll take the groceries, and you go upstairs. I'll meet you in a minute."
He nodded, watching you carry the bags to the kitchen. Your beautiful ass fully on display in the tiny babydoll you were wearing.
Stephen's mood had improved considerably by the time he finally entered the bathroom and began to undress. Boots first, robes later. He caught himself looking in the mirror for a second. The lines on his face seemed slightly deeper than the last time he checked, there were dark circles under his eyes, and a multitude of battle scars across his torso and arms.
And to think he used to be so careful about his appearance. But that was before the accident.
It wasn't that he didn't care about those things anymore, he just didn't live for them.
Rationally, he knew that much of what he saw in the mirror that afternoon was tiredness. If he had the privilege of spending two weeks at home without worrying about Kamar Taj or anything else related to his role as a master of the mystic arts, he was sure he would feel better.
Defender turned on the shower, adjusting it to get the water hot the way he liked it. He took out the elastic band that held his ponytail and let the strands fall over his shoulders, finally stepping under the spray and let the hot water hit the back of his neck.
It was almost painfully hot, the way he liked it. Steam was already beginning to gather against the tiles, the steady sound of water filled the room, echoing faintly against the walls. For a moment he did nothing, he simply stood there, the heat soaked slowly into muscles that had been tight since early morning, shoulders aching from training, back stiff from hours spent sitting in strategy meetings, mind even more exhausted than his body. He tilted his head back slightly and let the water run through his hair, his fingers moved through it absently, pushing it back.
Then he stopped moving again, just breathing, just letting the water run.
For one full minute he allowed himself to exist without thinking about missions, universes, responsibilities, or the heavy weight that seemed permanently lodged somewhere behind his ribs.
He didn’t even notice when you entered, the shift in the air was subtle. The soft sound of bare feet against tile was almost lost beneath the shower. It wasn’t until you stepped beside him that he became aware of your presence.
He turned his head slightly and you were there naked, warm light catching along the curve of your shoulders and collarbone, droplets of steam clinging to your skin. Beautiful in that effortless way you always were to him, as if his mind had permanently fixed you in that state.
You didn’t ask permission. You never did, and he never needed you to. You simply reached for the soft sponge resting on the small shelf and squeezed a generous amount of soap onto it before stepping behind him. The faint scent of verbena filled the steam as you began to work the sponge across his back. Slowly, deliberately, across his shoulders first, gentle circles that made his muscles loosen almost immediately. Then down his arms, the sponge sliding along his skin while the water continued to run over both of you.
Stephen let out a quiet breath through his nose, his eyes drifted shut for a moment, the simple act of being touched, of being cared for like this, did something to him that he never quite managed to explain.
“Are you okay?” Your voice came softly over the sound of the water. Stephen opened his eyes again but kept facing forward. He didn’t lie to you, there was no point. You would hear it in his voice immediately. You always did.
“I’m just tired,” he said, the words leaving him with a heavy exhale. “Very tired.”
The sponge moved down his back while the hot water rinsed away the soap in slow streams. Then she crouched slightly behind him, working carefully over his lower back, his hips, the back of his thighs, there was nothing ceremonial about it, no hesitation, just familiarity. You had done this dozens of times before, and God, he loved it.
He loved the quiet intimacy of it. The way you treated his body like something ordinary instead of something powerful or dangerous.
“I think I’m just tired of feeling unwanted in this fucking universe.” The confession left his mouth before he could second-guess it. His voice threatened to crack slightly on the last word, but he swallowed the weakness down and kept still while you reached for the bottle of shampoo.
A cool line of liquid spread across his scalp before your fingers moved through his hair.
“I know.”
Of course you knew.
Your fingers worked the shampoo through the strands, nails lightly scratching against his scalp in a way that sent small waves of relief down his spine.
You saw the looks too, everyone did. It was part of why he sometimes avoided going out with you, even though he loved doing those things. Movies, restaurants, theater, opera. Normal human experiences that Defender had once taken for granted. The way people looked at him always ruined it eventually. Not openly hostile, not always. But curious, suspicious, like he didn’t quite belong, like he was a mistake in the fabric of that universe.
And the worst part wasn’t their judgment, it was that a piece of him believed it too. How could he allow himself things like dinners and laughter and love when he had allowed his own universe to be destroyed? Billions of lives. Gone. Because of him.
“Rinse.” Your voice broke through the spiral.
Stephen obeyed without thinking, leaning forward slightly under the spray so the shampoo washed from his hair. Water ran down his face and chest in hot streams before disappearing along the drain.
“Don’t do that to yourself.” Your tone held the faintest edge of reprimand.
Stephen almost laughed quietly under his breath. He didn’t know how you did it, but you always seemed to know exactly what he was thinking.
You squeezed conditioner into your palm and began working it through his hair again, slower this time, your fingers combed through the strands carefully while your nails traced faint lines against his scalp.
Stephen closed his eyes again, his shoulders dropped another inch.
“We can’t do anything about how people see you in this universe,” you said gently behind him. “But you can stop torturing yourself by thinking the same things about yourself.”
He sighed, he knew you were right.
“Turn around.”
He obeyed. He always obeyed.
Defender turned under the stream of water until he was facing you. Droplets ran down your hair and over your shoulders as you lifted the sponge again, working it across his chest now. The sponge slid slowly over his skin, across the center of his chest, up along his collarbone, then to his neck. You rose onto the tips of your toes and kissed him.
He didn’t rush it, he just let the kiss happen at your pace, soft and unhurried under the steady fall of hot water. His hands rested lightly at your waist, fingers barely moving. That was all he wanted in that moment. To stop leading, to stop holding everything together, to simply exist inside the rhythm you set.
Completely different from what you had needed earlier.
“I love you, Stephen,” you said quietly, cupping his face. Water dripped from your hair between you. “I can’t control how people make you feel. But I hope my love is enough to ease it.”
Your thumbs brushed lightly along his cheekbones. “It’s unbearable for me to see you sad like this. You’re the most incredible man in this universe. The sweetest of the Stephens. You deserve the world.”
Your voice softened even more. “But I hope my love is enough.”
Stephen closed his eyes for a moment and let the words settle inside him.
The warmth of the water, the warmth of your hands, the steady beat of his heart finally slowing, then he opened his eyes again, a small smile touched the corner of his mouth as his fingers lifted to brush gently along your cheeks.
“It is,” he said quietly, his thumb tracing the curve beneath your eye. “God… your love is everything, baby.”
...
Steam still clung faintly to Stephen’s skin when he stepped into the kitchen of the Sanctum, his hair was still damp, dark strands wetting the long-sleeved shirt he had pulled on. A pair of soft gray sweatpants hung low on his hips, comfortable and familiar.
The scent of verbena soap followed both of you into the room. You looked much the same as when you had stepped out of the bathroom, barefoot, wearing tiny knit shorts and one of Stephen’s old band t-shirts that hung loosely on your body. The fabric was faded with age, the U2 logo cracked from years of washing.
Your hair was still wet, small droplets slid slowly down your neck.
The kitchen lights were warm and low, casting a golden glow across the wooden counters of the Sanctum. Outside the tall windows the night had settled over New York, but inside everything felt quiet and contained. Safe.
Nick Cave played softly through the speaker near the sink, the deep gravel of his voice blending into the background without demanding attention. It had always been Stephen’s favorite band and he could only be grateful that they existed in that universe too.
Defender had tied an apron around his waist, something embarrassingly domestic that you insisted he wear whenever he cooked. The fabric looked faintly ridiculous over the otherwise relaxed clothes, and he was very aware of it, but you liked it, so he wore it.
He stood at the large central counter, flour dusting his hands as he worked the pizza dough. Magic allowing the steady rhythm of kneading that filled the comfortable silence between the notes of the music.
Across from him you were busy with your own task, cutting pepperoni and grating cheese into a bowl.
But you kept looking at him, Stephen noticed.
Even while your hands moved, even while you focused on the cutting board, your eyes drifted back to him again and again, watching him the way you always did, as if he were something precious, like he was the most important thing in the world.
And the strange thing was that he believed you, he knew he was. Not in the arrogant way Stephen Strange might once have believed something like that, but with the quiet certainty that lived in the way you looked at him. That certainty was the only thing that kept him going some days.
He pressed his palms into the dough one last time before dividing it. Three portions.
His hands worked quickly, guided by habit. Then, with a small flick of his fingers, barely more than a subtle movement, white sparks shimmered briefly and the three pieces of dough vanished, reappearing perfectly flattened in the waiting pizza pans beside him. Ready for toppings.
“Okay, that was cheeting.” You laughed as you approached, carrying the bowls of cheese and pepperoni toward him.
“Saving time, baby.” Stephen took the bowls from your hands without the slightest hint of shame.
You leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his lips before looking down at the prepared pans.
“I think we might be going a little overboard with the amount.”
Stephen didn’t think so. He was starving, and he also knew the other two Stephens would likely be arriving soon. “Trust me, baby.”
You nodded as you watched him sprinkle cheese across two of the pizzas.
“And the other one?” Your brow furrowed in confusion as you reached for the shared wine glass on the counter. You took a long sip before handing it to him.
Stephen drank from it as well.
“Take a look on top of the counter.” He nodded toward the paper bag resting near the edge of it.
You moved toward it and looked inside.
“No way!” Your voice jumped with excitement.
“Nutella and strawberry pizza? Baby, you’re spoiling me like this.”
Stephen hummed in quiet satisfaction while finishing the savory pizzas. “Can you cut the strawberries for me while I put these in the oven?”
You didn’t hesitate. You hurried across the kitchen, almost bouncing on your feet as you grabbed the strawberries and a knife.
“Is there any cheese left?”
“A little. Why?” Stephen asked while sliding the pizzas into the oven.
You didn’t answer immediately, instead you continued working at the counter, slicing the strawberries carefully into small pieces.
Stephen found himself watching you again, the way your shoulders moved, the way your damp hair clung lightly to your back, the way you hummed softly along with the music without realizing it.
God. He was unbelievably lucky.
Before he could stop himself, he stepped behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. The embrace wasn’t sexual, there was no urgency left in him since the hunger from earlier had already been satisfied. This was something gentler. Affection, admiration. Simple warmth.
His chin rested near your shoulder while he held you.
“What do you have in mind for the cheese?” He asked, pressing a small kiss against your shoulder.
“I like cheese with chocolate. I thought it might be interesting.”
Stephen laughed quietly. Interesting was certainly a brave way to describe it. But he was cooking for you and that was your pizza.
“So… Nutella, strawberry, and cheese pizza then.”
You chuckled softly and turned in his arms. Your arms wrapped around him as you rose onto your toes to kiss him. Stephen bent down to meet your lips.
“I love you, Defender Strange.”
His smile came instantly and his heart jumped in his chest. He doubted he would ever get used to hearing you say that while looking at him like that.
“I love you too, baby. You make me feel at home.”
Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!
horror people, please reblog this and put a horror video game moment that scared the shit out of you. i’ll start, marguerite baker’s final for from resident evil: biohazard 🫣😱
Hi, sorry if this is a silly question to ask. I see Benedict describes Stephen as a complex character. What does he mean by that? I tried researching it but couldn’t really find a good answer.
Is it a good thing or bad thing?
hey!
No, not a silly question at all.
To begging with, calling him complex means Doctor Strange is not a flat, one-dimensional character that can be forgotten easily.
He was a succesful surgeon, with a big apartment and luxury car and then he lost everything and his belongings fitted in a small backpack.
He was arrogant and self centered, then he learned about humility and self-sacrifice.
He was a man of science who mocked anything that couldn’t be defined logically, and then he became master of the mystic arts.
He´s rational and always wants to do the right thin but he´s also driven by his heart.
He blames himself for his sister´s death, and even when it was the only way, i know he´s burden by Tony´s death. He died contless painful deaths to save the Earth and no one knows about that, so he only carries with it.
Yeah, he´s a layered and complex character.
And no, is not a bad thing. It means that there are more stories to tell about him if Marvel dares to explore them.
