#doctor strange x reader
stephen strange x reader / masterlist
summary; you and wong get tickets to your favourite singer, and drag the sorcerer supreme along for the concert / warnings; bad humour, it was a random idea that just came to me, brief mention of imprisonment, swearing, hinting at sex,
“A Hunk of Hulk of Burning Fudge please.” You smiled at the woman behind the booth, splaying change upon the counter, as you watched her scoop the delicacy into a small and travel safe pot, oozing the green ice cream with a caramel like sauce. “Thank you.”
“You order the same thing every time that we come here.” Stephen rolled his eyes lightly, quirking one of thin brows at you. Rather than denying it, for you both knew that fact was true, you simply shrugged, putting a portion of the avengers flavoured desert into your mouth, with the plastic spoon that accompanied your purchase.
“I am consistent. I think that’s what you were trying to say, and I don’t think you should complain considering my regular pattern of things keeps you... motivated.” Your gaze sternly drifted down to his crotch as you raised your forehead suggestively at the covered body part, sending the message directly to the sorcerer.
“Yes, that is what keeps me motivated. Surely not the need to protect our reality from negative forces that could cause it to plunder into a catastrophe.” In reply, you hummed, a smirk ridden on your face, before your phone beeped. “Who is it?”
“Wong, he’s pissed that we went to get ice cream without him.” Was your answer, as you drifted your gaze over to the counter as you prevailed in thought. “I better get him something, otherwise this weekend is gonna feel like an imprisonment from Surtur. And trust me, I am well versed with what that situation is like.”
“What is happening this weekend?” He asked bluntly, as though he felt left out on some big plot. A grand, rather intoxicating smile danced upon your face, almost cracking the surface like a piece of glass wear.
“We’re going to see Beyoncé!” It practically left you as a scream, your excitement clearly having got the better of you. As passersby walked past, you waved lightly at them, delivering them an embarrassed apology, before attaining your attention back onto Strange. “We have a spare ticket, my friend Darcy kinda pulled out, something about her friend Erik going bonkers again, but... you could come?”
“Me?” He had to repeat the offer, pointing at his chest where the eye of agamotto was hidden beneath his casual attire. It was no secret that you and Wong practically praised the earth for birthing such a beloved icon of the modern age; in fact it was him whom had introduced the singer to both you and Wong.
The pair of you didn’t get that reference, until the two of you delved into some coordinated research online. A part of him regretted ever making a reference about her, since the pair of you were practically obsessed. He was not sure that he’d survive a concert with the two of you, nor that the two of you would live through the performance, it was a rather mundane occurrence for the pair of you.
“No, of course not. I’ll just go and invite the other Stephen Strange; he wouldn’t dare say no to one of my... offers.” You smiled deviously, shovelling more of the fudge flavoured treat, sucking seductively on the cheaply made utensil, batting your eyelashes up at your master.
“Fine.” Stephen sighed, causing you to sigh, and pat the man on the shoulder. He rolled his head back, as he thought of the possible disaster his inclination to say yes would be.
“I knew you’d come around Stephie.” You spoke, handing him the pot of your slowly melting ice cream, pausing a finger upwards in the air, as you began to trail backwards. “Imma get Wong one of those, I’ll be back in a minute.”
“If i was a boy, even just for a day!” At the pitch that you wailed, Stephen winced. Wong was driving, and he was in the passengers seat, he had quite the suspicion that it was indeed not a bottle of water that you had brought along to the show. “Hey, I was listening to that!” You yelled, your voice being targeted at the driver as he fiddled with the track.
“I’m surprised you could hear that over your American Idol audition.” Stephen spoke, watching as your face crinkled, and the song of Wong’s choice had began to play. The sorcerer admittedly had quite a decent time accompanying the two of you, there were no days off with the tasks that you were given the responsibility to protect. Though, there had been a way around that worked out, and thus here the trio of you were, on the way back home.
The beginning of the song Single Ladies bustled from the CD player, and Wong inherently turned it up, watching amusedly as you pouted through the rear view, and crossed your arms. “If you don’t stop insulting me, then you will be a single lady Strange. I can find someone else to put a ring on it.”
“What was that?” He lightly smirked, turning in his seat to face you, as your skin crawled with the remarks of embarrassment. “Did you just admit that you want to marry me?” The man teased, watching as you shook your head, denying his claims that he had clearly heard.
“Nope.” The word popped from your mouth, as you leant against the restraint of your seat belt. “I don’t trust you with purchasing jewellery, you can barely keep track of the items that you wear.”
“I wear the eye of adamotto, the ancient one entrusted me with it. I- where the fuck is it?” His hands raked his chest, scratching the surface of skin below his shirt to find the item. It was gone. One of the most powerful weapons in the universe was lost, and worst of all, at a concert for normal people.
If one of them were to find it, they’d either think it nothing more than garbage, or a sick statement piece that they would brag about to their friends. Or worst of all, they would sell it, for less than it was even worth, since it was priceless, and some big bad would discover it on the shelf on an antique store.
“Language.” Wong muttered as he slipped his gaze only momentarily to the man sat beside him. His face remained void of emotion, but his eyes told another story. He was conflicted whether he wanted to shout at the sorcerer, or try his hardest to remain calm.
“You have to turn back!” The qualified doctor exclaimed, and all of a sudden, Wong performed a U turn, steering in the direction that you all had just come from. “Are you trying to kill us?!” The images of his own accident flashed through his mind, that fault of his own had ended him here, in a flurry of panic.
“If Beyoncé is wearing the eye around her neck, we are forcing her to use it as the cover for her next album. We’ll take some pictures, and then take it.” Wong stated, watching essentially as the man beside him began to bicker, his eyes wide and shocked by Wong’s priorities.
They were supposed to protect the reality, not shape it to their own whim. As they snapped at one another, you felt succumbed by the alcohol that you had subtly consumed, raising your hand to your chest, feeling a chain and a large, sideways diamond shaped pendant against your chest, below the material of your clothing.
Thinking nothing of it, you shut your eyes, and fell into a sleep slumber. Least to say, when you finally awoke with a raging hangover, after they had searched the extents of the stadium, neither of the men were impressed when they saw a familiar shape pressing through your top, mocking them as they established their fury.
“A part of me wishes Beyoncé had worn it.” Wong sulked, as Stephen went to remove the piece from you, but decided otherwise. If anyone could protect the artefact better than himself, it was a very pissed off and hungover you.
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Cardiac Arrest | Chapter Forty Six | Smoke and Fucking Magic
Relationship: Stephen Strange x Female Reader, there will be some Christine Palmer x Stephen Strange
Summary: Doctor Stephen Strange never expected much of anyone except, well, himself. But he certainly had the lowest of expectations from the new head of pediatric surgery who wears flower crowns and Hello Kitty bandaids.
Yet, when you propose an intriguing offer, Stephen can’t help but admit that it would look good for his record to save a few kids. Good thing he found out you were in a long-term relationship before he invested too much time into you. Otherwise, he might have become attached…He just might have.
Chapter Index: See masterlist (start at the beginning)
Rating: Explicit, eventual smut, serious pining, Stephen with an abysmal EQ, angst, but there’s a happy ending planned, this is pre-Doctor Strange (2016) because I’m a sucker for surgeon Stephen, language, and everyone is bad at feelings. Y’all know the deal by now xD
Word Count: ~1.8k
At your favorite cafe within walking distance of the hospital, Isaac leaned back in his seat and took a sip of his coffee.
You finally exhaled when the cup reunited with the table.
“Babe, you really don’t have to be that nervous,” he laughed. “I can drink a hot beverage without being a danger to myself or to others.”
“I know. I still worry.”
“You always worry. It’s probably pretty high up there in your top ten skills.”
Setting your tea aside, you drew in a breath. You ignored the instant concern that tore across his face.
“Don’t,” he whispered. “We already discu—”
“But Isaac, this could be my shot. This could finally do it.”
“We can’t keep getting hacked to pieces in hope that some miracles or smoke and fuckin’ magic is going to save us.”
“But this isn’t magic. This is medicine. I really believe tha—”
“And how far has belief gotten either of us?” He gestured to you with a quiver of his fingers.
With a sigh, you sunk down in your chair and nodded. Isaac leaned over the table to place his hand on yours.
“If this is what you want, I’ll support you,” he offered. “I just don’t want you to get caught up in the chase of trying to be whole again.”
“The rate of success isn’t high anyway. I don’t know if I even trust this guy.”
“And don’t forget, I’ve got you. No matter what.”
And for the first time in a long time, you believed him. A gentle smile tugged at the corner of your lips as your muscles relaxed.
“Thank you again for taking us in.”
“Again, you can stop thanking me. I need your help too.” He grinned and raised his eyebrows. “And honestly, who else were you going to call? Your parents?”
“I can only imagine how that conversation would have gone.”
Except you didn’t have to. You did make the mistake of calling your parents in your final days at the hospital. But your mother was insistent on asking more questions over providing answers.
“Mom, I don’t know anything about the side effects of your medications. I’m a surgeon, not a psychiatrist. Can’t you ask your doctor about this?”
You pinched the bridge of your nose and groaned. This conversation went exactly as you expected it to.
“I promise I don’t need that much help,” you pleaded. “I just, I can’t stand for very long. So I just need someone who can, I don’t know, answer the door when the delivery guy gets there? Just for the first few days.”
Two days later, you found yourself standing at Isaac’s doorstep. And when you saw his face, you weren’t sure if you should run inside or run away.
Not that you could physically do either.
“I...I’m so sorry. But I had nowhere else to go.”
You relinquished your weight to him as he wrapped his arms around you. He kissed your temple and propped you upright.
“Hey, hey,” he cooed. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. I got you.”
And from one broken soul to another, you felt like you were home again.
Later that week, you stopped by the Tower. Tony hadn’t returned any of your calls or texts; the last of which said you were coming over to collect Clea and your belongings.
But when you arrived, you were greeted with an eager pup, a few pre-packed boxes, and a couple of members of the security team who were ready to take them wherever you needed them to go.
Well, at least he wasn’t dead.
As you picked at the cardboard sleeve around your cup of tea—made of 100% recycled materials, mind you—you returned your gaze to Isaac and smiled.
“If I learned to play guitar, we could be a traveling duo. No! Trio. We could teach Clea how to yodel.”
But Isaac only shrugged.
“Right,” you sighed. “I’m so sorry.”
“S’okay. I know...No, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to bring you down.”
“You miss it?”
Pursing your lips, you gave him a nod. Isaac retracted his hand and leaned back.
“It was part of my identity. And now what? I pretty much lost my entire career over the past five years. Not that, no. Not that I regret...you know. But I just, I feel like I have no purpose.”
“I understand.” You swallowed, carefully weighing your next words on your tongue. “But I think we can all have multiple purposes across our lives. And I know...well, I know that one of my is to—”
But before you could finish the sentence to change your fate, your eyes widened upon seeing Stephen pacing back and forth just outside the cafe window.
“I’m sorry. I don’t follow.” Isaac raised an eyebrow.
“No, it’s Stephen.”
“What?” He turned around and rolled his eyes before looking back at you. “This is why I didn’t want to come by your work. What the fuck does he want?”
“Um, probably just a cup of coff—”
Stephen’s gaze locked with yours. Oh, shit. Was he supposed to run inside or run away? He didn’t really want to do either.
He started saying, well, something. You certainly couldn’t hear him.
Shrugging, you pointed to your ear and mouthed ‘I can’t hear you’.
Stephen’s eyes darted between you and Isaac’s backside. He shook his head and gestured for you to come outside. But his eyes widened when you leaned forward and waved your hand to beckon him in...
With a diamond on your ring finger.
Snapping his jaw shut, Stephen swallowed. He promptly turned around and started marching back to the hospital.
“What the fuck is he doing?” you whined.
Isaac reached for your wrist just as you shot up from your seat. Which, in fairness to the musician, was infinitely faster than he’d seen you move since your accident.
“Babe, what are—”
“Just give me a minute.” You limped right past him and to the sidewalk.
Isaac slumped back and raised his hands in defeat. But hey, at least your physical therapy was finally paying off.
“Doctor Strange! Get back here!”
But Stephen pressed forward; gait far out pacing yours.
Pausing to catch your breath, you pressed your hands to your thighs and leaned forward.
His hands curled into fists before spinning around and shrugging.
“WHAT?” he shouted.
You, once again, gestured for him to come closer.
Rolling his eyes, Stephen obliged. But only because he wasn’t interested in screaming this conversation for the entire street to hear. You should know that.
When he was within range of using his ‘indoor voice’ (as you more-than-occasionally reminded him of), he scowled.
He shoved you out of the way of oncoming foot traffic because God knows your glitter and fairy dust wouldn’t save you from getting mowed down by power walking businessmen.
“What do you mean ‘what’?” You shook your head. “You’re the one who was talking to me. What were you trying to say?”
“I wasn’t trying to say anything.”
“What the—you just told me to come outside.”
“Because I didn’t want an audience.”
“An audience for nothing?”
Stephen clenched his teeth and sighed, “You’re mobile.”
“When are you coming back? Your department is a disaster since you left.”
“You left a mess and they apparently don’t know how to handle themselves. And...and, well, they need you.”
Your eyes softened. “I-I don’t think I’ll be able to come back. I’m not strong enough.”
“What are you talking about? Your hands are fine.”
“I can’t stand for more than thirty minutes. And that’s on a good day.”
“Then you get stronger. Keep up with PT and—”
“Stephen. I can’t dance.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“If I can’t dance, I’m not coming back to work.”
“You won’t operate...if you can’t dance. That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Maybe not to you.”
Stephen knit his brows together. Well, he couldn’t disagree with you on that.
With a hard swallow, you shook your head. “I am so sor—”
“No. Well, not yet. I don’t know. He asked and I haven’t...I’m not sure.”
“Isn’t that something you should be kinda certain of?”
“Yes,” you groaned, dismissing the mockery in his voice. “Hence why I’m taking time to sit with it.”
“Mmmmkay.” He shrugged and patted your shoulder. “Good luck with that.”
Just as Stephen was about to unite with the flow of pedestrians, you yanked him back to the side of the building.
“What exactly are you trying to say, jackass?”
“See? This is exactly why you need to get back to work. You got mean.”
“I am not mean!”
“Are to. By the way, will you marry me?”
“What? Of course not! If I wanted to serve a life sentence in prison, I’d go commit murder.”
“Well, you didn’t have to sit with that. You just knew.”
Before he could run off on you again, you tightened your grip around his wrist. You were apparently still holding onto it. Which was news to one of you.
“Stephen, are we...are we good?”
“You were mad at me? Didn’t notice.”
“I’m serious!” You tugged on him, pulling him closer. “I pushed a lot of people away in the past few months. And I was terrible to you. I said awful things and I am so sor—”
“Oh, okay. Good.”
“But if you ever try taking my place as hospital douchebag again, I won’t hold back on reminding you how I so eloquently earned the title.”
He placed his hand over yours, corner of his lip upturned in a smirk. It was the first genuine one in the past two months. He missed feeling satisfied with himself. Wouldn’t dare go so long without it again.
You brought your palm to the side of his face to press a chaste kiss to his cheek.
“I have to get back—”
“To your fiancé.”
“Oh, stop.” You leaned back and rolled your eyes, breaking the invisible thread wrapped around the both of you. “But can I call you later to get your opinion on something?”
“You never want my opinion. Just pro bono surgery hours. You only want me for my body...And time...And exceptional fine motor skills.”
“Oh dear God. Nevermind then.”
Tentatively, your eyes met his. “You mean that?”
“I can tell when a woman needs a competent opinion. Now get back or your fiancé is going to think you’ve run off with me to join Mensa. Which to him, anybody with an IQ over 100 qualifies for. So…”
“Oh, fuck off! You are such an asshole.”
“Maybe. But at least I’m not your husband.” He shuddered.
As you rolled your eyes, Stephen gave your hand one quick squeeze before darting down the sidewalk. He already knew exactly how he would resect the hemangioblastoma.
After he cleaned up the pieces of ceramic off his office floor, of course.
rosewrites taglist: @miraclesoflove
cardiac arrest taglist: @elisabethvanroseblood @love-and-other-possibilities @wsscottieholmes @nelleicrain @cameronsails @whatababeleia @jtownraindancer @lokis-leah @leah-0207
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Cardiac Arrest | Chapter Forty Five | Divine Intervention
Relationship: Stephen Strange x Female Reader, there will be some Christine Palmer x Stephen Strange
Summary: Doctor Stephen Strange never expected much of anyone except, well, himself. But he certainly had the lowest of expectations from the new head of pediatric surgery who wears flower crowns and Hello Kitty bandaids.
Yet, when you propose an intriguing offer, Stephen can’t help but admit that it would look good for his record to save a few kids. Good thing he found out you were in a long-term relationship before he invested too much time into you. Otherwise, he might have become attached…He just might have.
Chapter Index: See masterlist (start at the beginning)
Rating: Explicit, eventual smut, serious pining, Stephen with an abysmal EQ, angst, but there’s a happy ending planned, this is pre-Doctor Strange (2016) because I’m a sucker for surgeon Stephen, language, and everyone is bad at feelings. Y’all know the deal by now xD
Word Count: ~1k
A/N: Gasp! What's that? A new chapter? Thanks for your patience all. Short one, but we're actually making progress. Who'da thought.
“Not good enough.” Stephen tossed a case file on Billy’s desk.
Muttering under his breath, Billy leaned back and glared at him. He could have sworn his hair was getting grayer by the second. At what point was he supposed to start looking for, well, other employment opportunities?
“It’s been two months and you haven’t taken a single case. For the sake of your job, and more importantly, mine, take it.”
He shoved the file across the desk.
Stephen put his hands on his hips and scoffed.
“There are about two dozen other people who are qualified to resect a hemangioblastoma. Even one like this. Not worth my time.”
“You are going to get us both fired. Will you just split someone’s skull open for Christ’s sake?!”
“Why? Are you volunteering? Just send it to West.”
“Nick can’t take any more cases.”
“What?” Stephen snorted. “Of course he can. If he can waste time in the ER, he can—”
“He’s working part time in Peds to help out the new guy.”
“Oh? Harvard Nick?”
“What did you just call him?”
“West went to Cooper so it’s an appropriate distinction.”
“Except for the fact that they have entirely different last names!” Billy released an exasperated sigh. “And you don’t even call Nick ‘Nick’.”
“Which Nick? The one who went to Harvard Medical School or the one who went to the 123rd best medical school in the country located in New Jersey? See, this when an identifier would be useful.”
Billy blinked firmly exactly three times before taking a deep breath.
“You know you could just go see her.”
“Stephen, I fucking swear to God.”
Billy shot up from his desk and grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. As he threw it on, Stephen furrowed his brow.
“Where are you going?”
“I thought your visitor was meeting you here for lunch.”
“Think some fresh air would be good. For you.”
“Yes. So I don’t punch you in the face. I’m going to Ortho.”
Stephen narrowed his eyes. “Are you two…”
“What, Stephen? Are we what?”
“Sleeping together?” He cocked a brow.
Shaking his head, Billy stomped to the door. Stephen took a step forward and laughed.
“What? It’s a legitimate question.”
“No! It’s not. You know that I have been in a committed partnership for the past five years.”
“You know what? Fuck you. Not all of us run away from our issues by literally burying ourselves in other people.”
“Oh, come on.” Stephen rolled his eyes.
“It’s not hard to tell how you’ve been spending your time. Do you bother learning their names? Or do you just ask if you can call them—”
Stephen bore his eyes into Billy. Your name hung in the air as the unspoken word between them.
Rubbing his palms together, Billy huffed an exhale.
“No, that’s right. You probably use a numbered system. If you’re even keeping track at this point.” He threw the door open. “I’m going to help out Peds until they get better staffed.”
“Why are you helping them? They already have West. If you classify that as help.”
“She was doing the job of, like five people or some shit. No fucking clue how. But they need me more than you do.”
“God, now you’re just being sensitive.”
“Let me know when you’ve got a fucking case. Or if you get fired and I need to look for employment elsewhere.”
Billy slammed the door behind him.
“He’ll get over it,” Stephen muttered, throwing his back to lie down across the couch.
Someone needed to do something about these ceiling tiles. They were nothing short of disgusting. How long has it been since anyone’s cleaned these?
In the past two months, you were discharged, in physical therapy, and living...well, he was going to find that out today. Except Billy decided to take the conversation out of eavesdropping distance.
Stephen rolled his eyes and groaned.
Don’t judge. It was the only form of entertainment in this office suite since Billy apparently lost his ability to procure a decent fucking case. What else was he supposed to do? Help out Peds? The ER?
If he wasn’t going to dance with the hemangioblastoma, there was no fucking way he was stepping on either of those floors. He shuddered. No need to go through the graveyard of...what would you call it? Failed relationships past? Not that you and he ever dated. Just that you had a relationship outside of the strictly professional context and, fuck.
Stephen dragged his hands down his face.
This is why he never made friends.
Swinging his legs over the edge of the couch, Stephen propped himself upright. He raised an eyebrow at the case file eyeing him from Billy’s desk. He swears he could feel that thing watching him.
He rose to his feet, grumbling under his breath the whole five steps to the desk. Stephen let out a long whistle as he slid the file across the desktop and promptly into the trash.
Honestly, there was no use wasting his time with this nonsense any longer. But coffee? Yeah, sure. He could justify that.
Stephen strutted to his office and reached out to swipe your mu—no, his mug—from his desk. But just as his fingertips grazed the edge, the ceramic escaped his grasp.
He lunged forward. But even his legendary dexterity wasn’t enough to rescue the mug from its predestined fate.
“Shit, shit, shit!”
In a matter of seconds, the mug splintered across the floor in pieces. Stephen drew in a breath, pursing his lips as the word ‘OKAYEST’ stared back at him with a vengeance.
If he were the sentimental type—which, thank fuck he wasn’t—this would bother him. It would bother him more than the distinct tick of his jaw and growing lump in his throat.
But, having learned long ago that attachment was a waste of time, he exited his office, strode through the rest of the neurology suite, and slammed the door just like Billy did moments before.
Now...what the fuck was he doing again?
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cardiac arrest taglist: @elisabethvanroseblood @love-and-other-possibilities @wsscottieholmes @nelleicrain @cameronsails @whatababeleia @jtownraindancer @lokis-leah @leah-0207
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Go Away! (Doctor Strange x Reader Part 9)
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Pairing: Doctor Strange x fem! Reader
Series: It’s all a Little Strange, Chapter 9 Masterlist
You sighed as you laid in your bed at Kamar Taj. It was such a crazy day and you were too tired to return back to your home. Along with the threat of Kaecilius, it was better for you to stay at Kamar Taj.
Stephen saw right through you. He knew you were hiding something from him. It pained you to acknowledge this, but you have killed before. Obviously never in a hospital, but you have killed. It was during a battle, and it was quite frankly a life or death situation. If you hadn’t done the killing, you would’ve been killed.
You frowned as the memory brought itself back up. It wasn’t your greatest moment. You turned around and stuffed your face in your pillow. Right as you and Stephen were really starting to like each other, things spiraled downward. Judging by his reaction to having killed, he’d be livid to hear that you’ve also killed. Tears started to roll down your cheeks and you let them form puddles in your pillow.
Your mind then conjured up a list of every way that Stephen Strange was better than you. Master of the New York Sanctum. Got his M.D. and Ph. D. at the same time. Astral projection. Eye of Agamotto. Cloak of Levitation. His skill with magic that is so advanced. What took you years he did in months. Acclaimed neurosurgeon.
The tears started to fall faster and you cried into your pillow, “it’s not fair. It’s not fair!” your tears turned into ugly sobs and you turned to face the stone wall so that you could actually take breaths of air. “How is he just so much better than me?”
Behind you, you didn’t hear the door creak open through your loud crying. “(f/n)?” you heard the low voice of Stephen, “are you...are you okay?” Oh great. Just the person you wanted to see.
“Go away Strange!” you shouted and threw a pillow at him. “I don’t need you ruining any more of my life.” You grabbed a different pillow and buried your face into it. You felt the bed beside you sink and knew he hadn’t listened to you. “I said go away.” You grumbled angrily through your pillow.
“What’s wrong (f/n)?” he asked quietly, “I thought we were on first name basis now?”
“Go away before I make you leave.” You threatened through your pillow, and squashed the loud crying to be dealt with after he left.
“What happened?” he asked soothingly.
“It’s none of your business.” You shot back defiantly, “I’m not some child you need to baby.” You wiped your tears on your pillow.
“But we’re friends.” He pointed out.
“No. I’m your mentor and that’s it.” You argued and wiped some more tears.
“If we were just that, I think you’d insist on me calling you Master (l/n).” He countered. You bit your lip; you couldn’t argue against that.
You took a deep shuddering breath to find your composure, “what do you want Stephen?” you sat up and turned to look at him.
“I just want to know what happened. You seem pretty upset.”
“You don’t need to worry yourself over it.” You waved away his concern.
“I’m your friend, I can tell you need a shoulder to cry on right now.”
You laughed through your tear-stained cheeks, “I didn’t know you were capable of sympathy.”
“Oh come on.” Stephen groaned and shoved your shoulder good-naturedly, “I was trying to be nice.”
“I appreciate it, but, I just need some time alone.” You denied.
“Who can you talk to?” he asked suddenly.
“What?” you asked in confusion.
“You have to have a friend in this place.” He argued, “who is it?”
You thought it over, “probably Daniel.” The weight of what happened a few hours hit you over the head, “oh my gosh Daniel.” You didn’t even think twice about it, you leaned into Stephen and cried into his shirt, “he’s dead Stephen. He’s dead!”
“It’s alright (f/n).” He soothed and rubbed your shoulder with his hand.
“He’s gone! Killed by Kaecilius and his cronies!” you wailed.
“I know, I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything about it.”
“I was there Stephen!” you cried, “I could’ve done something!”
“You tried your hardest (f/n),” his low voice seemed to calm you down a bit, “you’re amazingly strong. Even when your life was pouring out of your side, you fought. Daniel knew what he was going into.”
You nodded in his shirt and your crying had calmed down, but each breath was still a shuddering breath filled with hiccups, “thank you Stephen.”
Taglist: @panhoeofmanyfandoms @daydreamer-in-training @marine-captain-deku @turkisherlockian
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A Shaking Struggle
Pairing: Doctor Strange X Reader (gender neutral)
Description: It’s lunch date time and you pick to go to a Japanese restaurant for sushi. But there is one problem: because of his hands, Stephen can’t use chopsticks.
Warnings: light swearing
Word Count: 1.6K
A/N: THE IDEA FOR THIS HIT ME LIKE A TRUCK AND I NEEDED TO WRITE IT ASAP! IM ACTUALLY SOBBING AT HOW ADORABLLY EMBARESSED HE WOULD BE! Enjoy lol. Also special thanks to my friend Hailey for being my beta reader for this one <3
Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee
Walking through Greenwich Village always gave you excitement, knowing that the New York sanctum was in the area. It was also just a generally nice place to be in the city, so walking on your own to go see Stephen was always relatively peaceful. As you walked, the afternoon sun added warmth to your enthusiasm. Pretty soon you could see the sanctum in the distance, the recognizable window on the roof standing out among the other buildings. After a few minutes, you found yourself on its doorstep ready for your lunch date with its protector.
You woke up to a text from him that morning which said: I’m off in the afternoon, lunch?
No “good morning” or no “how are you this morning?”. Blunt and straight to the point, but still with his charm. You had laughed at it and replied with a simple Okay! and made sure your afternoon was cleared. Most of the time the doctor was occupied with his mystical work, but when free time came up for him he would let you know right away and ask you to hang out.
Before you could knock, you were suddenly already inside with a rush of wind. The split second of confusion passed once you realized you were in Stephen’s office, finding him at his desk behind a book and a cup of tea wearing casual clothes. You regained your balance and held back a laugh.
“Hi!” He said with that cheeky smile, looking like he did not just teleport you from the front door into his office.
“I thought I told you not to do that,” You said, the laugh in your voice coming through. “It’s dizzying.”
“Well, it’s funny.” He gave you an innocent look, one that you could not resist smiling at.
“So, you ready for lunch?”
“Yeah, I just finished up some reading.” He closed the book and put it on a tall stack on the edge of his desk. “Where do you want to go?” He asked before taking a sip of his tea.
“Oh! There’s a sushi restaurant just down the street that I haven’t been to. I heard it’s really good!”
Stephen sputtered into his teacup. A sudden jerk to his hand added to the event, his shaking hand giving out and forcing him to put down the cup. You watched a little tea splash out onto the desk. He cleared his throat and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Stephen looked back up at you, “Yeah, I’m good. Sure, sushi. Let’s go!”
You smiled at him and held back a little noise of excitement. He got up from his desk and came to join you, casually offering you a hand and saying “Lead the way,” before you pulled him off to exit his office and back out into the busy street.
A bowl of miso soup sat in front of Stephen. He had abandoned the spoon and resorted to drinking it right out of the bowl, which he saw you doing as well which brought a feeling of comfort. Staring down at it, he saw his own reflection on the surface thanks to the lighting of the restaurant. It was like staring down into a bowl of his own shame and insecurity.
When you had suggested sushi, Stephen tried not to choke on his drink. Sushi, Japanese restaurant, Asian food. Insecurity had overcome him in a wave. He liked Asian food, loved it, but he did not want to eat it in front of someone else. But he didn’t want to say no to you. The look of excitement in your eyes was something he never wanted to say no to. You looked like you really wanted sushi. So he decided that he had to suck it up.
He tried to distract himself. Talking with you was the best thing he could do for himself, hearing you talk eased him slightly. But he found himself zoning out, forgetting what he had asked you mere seconds ago and some of your words not making sense to him.
Stephen had always been a tad insecure about his shaking hands, often forgetting about it thanks to his mystical work. But he had never been so overcome with the feeling until now. When he was in front of the person that he was so smitten with, one that he wanted to impress and charm.
But the little paper package that was sitting on the table to his right was not going to let him impress you today.
The focus that it requires to steady his hands with magic was difficult to do when he was as nervous as he felt now. Just the presence of you was throwing things off as well, so your existence was not helping at all.
He was a master of the mystic arts and he could not steady his hands because he was too nervous. Goddammit, he thought.
“I’ve been feeling so tired, work hasn’t been kind to me.”
Stephen looked up at you and pretended like he heard everything you said. He nodded while taking another sip of his soup. He tried so hard to naturally steady his hand around the little bowl, but somehow, his hands shook harder. He desperately tried not to spill the soup.
Stephen was caught off guard, “Hmm?”
“You seem tired, too.”
“Oh, yeah. I am. Been busy. Uh, things have been crazy.”
Stephen began to talk about a few things that had come up for him recently. Seeing you genuinely interested in what he was saying, resting your chin on your palm while looking up at him with sweet eyes, was enough to ease his nerves just a little. And the talking helped as well, he made sure to exaggerate just a tiny bit to stroke his own ego.
But then a waiter came over with your orders of food. A litter verity of maki rolls, some nigiri pieces, and tempera pieces in a little basket. The way your eyes lit up made Stephen smile, but there was a hint of hesitation on his face.
Any trace of comfort was gone from him and you were already opening your packet of chopsticks.
Shit, he thought.
He went to pick up his own.
You were so hungry and so excited that you already had your chopsticks ready. Everything looked so good you did not know where to start. You looked between everything, “Okay, what one do we try first?”
You heard the clatter of wood on the table. Looking across the table, Stephen had dropped his chopsticks. There was this look of dread on his face. He then quickly picked them back up again, tore the two sticks apart with a frustrated jerk, and tried to place them in the correct position between his fingers.
He was struggling to even hold them.
Then you realized that for all the time you have known this man, from dating for a couple of months to the time of being friends before that, you have never seen this man with a pair of chopsticks. The reason was obvious once you remembered the state of his hands.
“Do you... do you need some help there?” You asked, words laced with a laugh that threatened to burst out.
“No no, I’m fine.”
You could tell that it was not fine.
He had managed to place each of the sticks in a correct and comfortable position, but it looked like it took some effort to even keep them in place. You seriously doubted he could pick something up with those.
“You sure?” You asked, trying oh so hard not to laugh.
Stephen let out a heavy sigh and put the chopsticks down. “Okay, I promise you I know how to use chopsticks. I just avoid them cause it’s not fun watching me struggle,”
“You could have just told me,” You replied, still desperately holding in a laugh. But the smirk and growing smile on your face was betraying you.
“Cause it’s embarrassing,” He said in a low tone, rubbing his forehead in the self-annoyance.
This poor man had this look in his blue eyes resembling that of a helpless puppy.
“Stephen, it’s okay. You can use your hands. It’s actually considered alright.” You giggled. You put your chopsticks down and picked up a roll with your fingers, just to make him feel more comfortable.
He sighed relief and a weight was visibly lifted from his shoulders. You had not noticed the tightness to him until it was gone, you assumed it was from him being tired from work. He picked up a roll with his fingers himself and you both tried it together. After mutual agreement of how good the food was, you both continued to chat in-between bites.
“When I was first studying in Kathmandu, I was mostly fine because most food is just eaten with your hands. But when it came to chopsticks, I gave up and resorted to spoons and forks.”
“So you were the white guy eating with a fork?” You snickered.
“Hey, I told you. I know how to use them! I’m just physically challenged, okay.”
You finally let that laugh out and he ended up laughing along with you.
“Wait, aren’t you able to steady your hands a little though? Use a bit of magic?”
“Too nervous. Can’t hold it properly.”
You raised your eyebrow, “Doctor Stephen Strange, nervous? Wow, that’s new.”
“It’s your fault.”
“I make you nervous?”
He shrugged shyly.
You found that fact very amusing. That the person he was dating, you, could make him so nervous and make him fear embarrassing himself in front of could break down his huge ego. He’s the cutest, you thought.
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The Agent and Her Sorcerer
Pairing: Doctor Strange X Fem!Reader
Description: You, an agent who works with The Avengers, comes back to the compound to find that Doctor Strange has brought you coffee.
Warnings: mentions of drinking and doing the dirty
Word Count: 2.4K
A/N: Originally posted on Quotev | Things have been busy, so has mental heath things, so idk when new things will come out. I love this piece tho so I hope this makes up for it.
Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee
Gif by @cumberbatchlives
Technically a sequel to The Sorcerer and The Agent
When you stepped off the jet and onto the landing, you let out a long breath of relief. That field mission was finally over. It was an early call that got you out of bed before the sun came up. Too early for your body to function, but with the encouragement of coffee and Captain Rogers forcing you out of bed, you conquered the task. You checked your phone for the time, it was now around noon. You were ready to sit down, maybe even take a nap. You desperately needed a break.
But you knew you would not be able to rest.
Tony was already on your ass. He came out of nowhere, scaring the life back into you, and shoved a tablet in your hands. "Before you file your report, you got another one."
You groaned, falling into step beside him to make your way into the building. "Already?"
Tony pushed a few things on your tablet and an image came up. It was one of the objects you had recovered from this morning's mission. On the side was a stream of jumbled letters and numbers.
Tony shrugged, with a grin on his face that you wanted to punch off. "Hey, you're best for the job."
"Can't FRIDAY just run through it?"
"Where's the fun in that?"
You glared at him.
"Come on, you got this."
You rolled your eyes, "Fine. Only because it might give us a new lead."
"Atta girl! Don't stress yourself out."
You were already stressed.
"Oh and by the way, someone in the lounge is here to see you."
After a brief moment of surprise, you knew who it was. Tony saw the smile appear on your face, then winked at you. You rolled your eyes at him.
You tucked the tablet under your arm and made your way to the lounge. Maybe you were getting a little break before continuing for the day after all. A small amount of energy that came from your happiness pushed you forwards.
When you got there, sure enough, there he was.
"Hey, I thought you might want coffee."
You chuckled. Of course you wanted coffee.
Stephen Strange had a coffee tray in his hands that had two cups in it. He was standing around looking a little awkward, a little out of place at the compound. He looked relived to see you, as if anyone else in the doorway would made him embarrassed. His serious demeanor was no where in sight, a hint of warmth in his cheeks.
He wasn't wearing his sorcerer robes, but casual clothes. A jacket, dark jeans, sneakers, a t-shirt, simple things that you got to see him in more often now. You liked it. Very much.
Without any hesitation, you made your way over to him. Giving him a big smile the entire way. You put your tablet down so you could take the cup he was holding out for you. "Thank you." Your gloved hands brushed against his bare shaking ones. The contact was enough to widen your smile.
"Don't mention it."
"Hi! How are you? What's new?" You asked him, leaning one hand on a table and sipping your coffee with the other.
Stephen let out a breath, "Well this morning I helped to try and close a dimensional rip in space time. If we hadn't managed to close it then it would have swallowed an entire country."
"Sounds exciting, Doctor." You hid a smirk behind a look of playfully exaggerated interest.
"Oh it was." He was trying to hide a smirk too, "How about you, Agent (L/N)?" His cheek twitched, trying desperately to not let that smirk slide through.
"Well I just came back from a mission in London where an very well hidden Hydra base was found. There were a few of their agents there, kicked some ass, and managed to recover some of their tech and files. You know, normal things."
"This is a very casual conversation despite its content." He commented.
You both broke after that, smirks turning into fits of chuckles. You reached up and kissed him on the cheek.
The two of you were developing into a 'thing' recently. Whenever he would come to the compound, you would have your eye on him. And you could feel his eye on you as well. It had been going back and forth for a while, finding excuses to talk to each other and purposely being in the same room as one another. Casual attraction.
You noticed the little details in him. Taking every opportunity to make a snarky comment during meetings. Dedication and a 'cool calm' overtaking him whenever disusing anything serious. His gaze of sparkling blue, sharp features, and welcoming smile. The very presence of him either made your heart stop or quicken, sometimes both simultaneously.
Whenever you were both having a conversation, whether for work or just friendly chatter, you found yourself entranced by him. His voice, his gorgeous face, his personality. Not casual attraction anymore, you were sightly obsessed.
But there was always this look in his eyes, that he recognized your attraction to him. And a look that told you he had similar emotions. You just knew it. You paid attention to him. You noticed him paying attention to you with interest, catching him staring on occasion.
Things had went from zero to one hundred at a party that Tony threw last week. You had a little too much to drink. Stephen did too. You found yourselves alone. Things escalated from there. You woke up the next morning in his bed in the New York sanctum, cuddled in his arms. You both went out for breakfast that morning. He took you out for dinner a day after.
Ever since then, he shows up at the compound when he can, or calls you to ask how you are doing. Work for both of you has gotten pretty busy lately so finding time to go out together was hard. But you promised each other another date as soon as you both were free.
This was a long time coming, you both knew that. All it took was one little push. But you did not expect that push to be a little alcohol. It happened anyways, so you decided to take it without complaints.
Stephen looked around, making sure no one else was in the room to intrude. After confirming, he leaned down and stole a kiss from you. You giggled and let him, leaning up into him. He pulled away to let you have another sip of your coffee.
He wasn't drinking from his own cup. You felt his eyes on you. It did not take long to figure out why. You were still in your uniform, one that is similar to Natasha's. Black bodysuit, weapons belt. Skin tight. A blush crept up on your face, some memories coming back from that night. He has seen you wearing this before, but now his gaze had a different weight to it.
"Liking the view, Strange?" You asked with a raised eyebrow and mischief glittering in your eyes.
He shrugged, "Now that I know what it all looks like, I like the view even more." Casual. Calm. Cocky.
You playfully smacked him on the shoulder, bringing his hint of a smile into light. Tucking the tablet under your arm, coffee in one hand and Stephen's own hand in another, you pulled him over to one of the couches. The two of you sat down. "I have a little tech and paperwork to do right now. You're welcome to stay while I do it, if you're free."
He relaxed beside you, an arm slinging over the back of the couch. "I've got time. Wong is watching the Sanctum, I have the afternoon off."
"Maybe if I finish early we can go out?" You asked with a perky smile.
He gestured to your open tablet. "Better get to work then." You laughed, quickly kissed him, and did get to work. You explained to him your tasks, the decoding you needed to do and then fill out your mission report file. He seemed interested, looking over your shoulder the whole time as you explained your process. He watched you complete the decoding, send the results to the cloud, and start typing away at your morning's mission report.
Stephen's presence behind you the entire time was comforting, taking away some of the stress of your busy work. His warmth and the smell of coffee in the air made you content. You felt him start to fiddle with the tails of your hair, you jokingly swatting him away before he went right back to it.
During the breakfast date, and the dinner date, you saw more little things about him you liked. There was curiosity and interest in his eyes. Behind that serious shell was gentleness and kindness, a full heart who thinks for others. It was like after that night, you got to see the real Stephen Strange, not the Sorcerer Supreme. He was a gentle lover, even drunk, making sure you were comfortable the entire time. Eating out together, he was a gentleman. Seeing him around the compound, he seemed to be smiling more.
You never knew the great Doctor Stephen Strange was a total softy. It made you like him even more.
While writing, you found yourself putting extra care into reviewing the mission and its details. This may have been caused by knowing Stephen was watching your every move and you wanted to make a good impression of your work ethic. You made sure to skim through for any mistakes or typos in your writing as well. After some time, discarded cups on the coffee table and Stephen now subtly nuzzling your neck, you submitted your report.
"Do you have to do that after every mission?" The man who was practically wrapping his entire body around yours on the couch asked.
"Yeah. That was one of the longer ones. Most things were more straightforward this time around, but I did a lot in London today." You heaved a sigh, momentary wiggled out of Stephen's arms to plunk your tablet down on the coffee table, and relaxed back into the couch.
"Have anything else to do?" He asked.
"Not currently." You turned to him, now giving him your full attention. He seemed to like it.
"Well then, maybe you and me can go grab lunch?"
"I'd like that."
You watched his eyes dip down, briefly glancing at your lips before looking back up at your eyes. You caught him. This told you what he was thinking about, and soon you were thinking about it yourself. And then you were doing it. One of his hands rested on your cheek, the other found your waist as he kissed you. Your hands tangled around his neck and up into his hair gently.
It was like you lost track of time. You just focused on Stephen, a hand of his running over the fabric of your tight uniform.
"I'm glad Tony threw that party."
You and Stephen urgently parted at the interruption. Standing in the doorway, Steve and Natasha had smug grins. They were still in their uniforms from the mission, Steve's shield strapped across his back. You groaned.
When you told only one person that you went home with Stephen that night, it had spread through the compound like wildfire. Your coworkers all knew, and they were relieved. Finally, they had said. You must have not noticed how obvious you and Stephen's electric stares and intrigued chatter were.
You were a little embarrassed at being caught making out, but the embarrassment practically radiated off Stephen. He immediately straightened upright and cleared his throat. Apparently he did not show his vulnerable side to anyone but you, him instantly clicking back into a neutral expression when facing someone else.
Nat got right to the point, ignoring the irritated look on your face, "We got a new lead. There was a new location marked in one of their files found in London. Venice. We leave in thirty."
A frown glazed your features. You were really looking forward to spending some time with Stephen again. You looked at Stephen, who shared a mutual disappointed look in his eyes. But you knew that he would go let you work. It was annoying.
It wouldn't hurt to ask. Would it?
You stood up from the couch, grabbing your tablet to pull up your report again. You strided towards your bosses, a lick of confidence in your posture.
"Um actually I was kinda hoping if I could get the rest of the day off." You sang.
Steve let out a breath in a smug laugh, while Nat was hiding one of her own.
With a smile, you handed Nat your tablet, the mission report on the screen. Clean, detailed, care put into it, reflecting your hard work you had accomplished all morning. You saw her eyes look it over, the captain leaning in to do the same.
"You did work hard this morning." Steve pointed out.
"And you did eventually save our asses in the end." Nat added.
As you said to Stephen earlier, you did kick ass during the mission.
You gave them a look of hope. It was obvious what you wanted, they both knew it. For some reason you felt like they were lengthening the moment to tease you. To leave you in anticipation.
After what felt like minutes instead of seconds, the two turned to each other and exchanged expressions. Steve nodded. Natasha handed back your tablet.
"Go play with your sorcerer and his magic hands." Natasha whispered to you with a wink. A deep blush crept up onto your neck, and you saw her smirk. Scrunching your face up in a mock sneer, you snatched your tablet back.
"Have fun, you two." Steve said as a goodbye, and him and Natasha left the lounge to get ready for part two of today's investigation.
You turned back to Stephen. He had an impressed look on his face. Now standing, he threw away your empty coffee cups in a nearby bin."You didn't have to do that, you know."
"Too bad. Already did." You shrugged, sauntering back over to stand in front of him.
Stephen gave you a smile, and opened a slingring portal right in front of you both. "Then lets go."
You put down your tablet and went to empty your weapons belt. "I'm still in uniform, Stephen." You laughed, "I should go change first."
The sorcerer snapped his fingers, and your skintight Avengers uniform turned into a pair of leggings and a blouse. An outfit Stephen had complimented you on last week. You were surprised he remembered it.
You rolled your eyes at him, and before you could say anything, he grabbed your hand and pulled you through the portal.
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His Lovely Girl.
Pairing: Sebastian Stan x F!Reader
Genre: Angst, Fluff
Summary: Sebastian spoils her all the time. What has she ever done for him? When someone leaves a rude comment under her Instagram post, she can't help but rethink her entire relationship with the handsome actor.
Author's Note: Hiya peeps! We're back to Marvel lol, enjoy!
"I'll see you later, dove, have fun!" Y/N grinned when her boyfriend leaned over, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Bye, Seb, I'll miss you," she whispered and he looked down at her, his heart swelling in his chest, full of appreciation for her. He loved her so much. "I'll miss you too, Y/N, but I'll only be gone for around 6 hours." Y/N pouted and he couldn't help it.
He leaned over and pressed his lips to hers in a chaste kiss. "I know. Go now, I don't want to be the reason you're late." He laughed heartily when she pushed him away with a smile. "Oh, doll, everyone knows about us, they'll know anyway." With that, he waved at her and left the apartment they shared. Y/N had moved in with him 2 years into dating.
Sebastian Stan; let's just say, he was a busy man. Y/N sighed and got up from the bed, feeling hungry. They had started dating 4 years ago, and what years those were; the most blissful ones in both their lives. They loved each other to death, and they knew that. Y/N waddled into the kitchen and looked around the various cabinets, finding a box of Mac and Cheese.
It was a funny story, actually, how they met. Y/N, at the time, was working as a barista at Starbucks. One day, Sebastian had walked into the Starbucks where she worked, and she was the one who took his order. He was extremely polite, funny and a bit awkward and just like that, she fell in love with him all over again. Y/N was a Marvel geek and Sebastian had noticed.
"I really like your hoodie, doll, where'd you get it?" he had asked her after telling her his order. And she had looked down, seeing the custom-made hoodie she wore. It was black in colour, but one of the sleeves was silver and had a red star on the bicep, just like his arm from the movie Captain America: Winter Soldier.
Bucky's trigger words were printed on the front of the hoodie. She had blushed furiously, simultaneously cursing and thanking her fate and coincidence. "I had it custom made," she had told him at the time and he had grinned so wide he thought his mouth would tear open. That was the moment where he, too, realized that he was getting a crush on the pretty barista.
And he hadn't hesitated to ask her for her number. He had taken a tissue paper, scribbled his number down and had written what's yours? ;) underneath. When he went to pay for his coffee, he purposely made sure that he wasn't giving her any change. With his notes, he slid her the tissue and she took it, giving him a confused look.
When she read it, her breath hitched. While pulling out his change, she had discreetly written her number down on the tissue, saved his on her phone and had given the tissue back to him with the coins. Both of them had grinned widely at each other when he left. While walking home, he had taken out the tissue and had seen her number written neatly under his. And his heart raced, Y/N is worth it.
*@yn_yln posted a photo*
yn_yln Mac and Cheese, anyone? :D
Y/N smiled and logged out of her Instagram account after posting the photo. She just couldn't resist; she looked good that day, one of those days where she felt confident enough to post a picture. She kept her phone away and sauntered into the sitting room to watch something on the television. An hour passed before she yawned, feeling tired.
2:05 pm, her watch displayed. Well, there's no harm in an afternoon nap, am I right? Sebastian wasn't home anyway, and it's not like she had anything to do. Grabbing her phone off the dining table, she walked into hers and Sebastian's shared bedroom, plopping down on the bed. She decided to check her Instagram before falling asleep and opened the said app.
She went through the page that displayed all the likes and comments, pausing at one comment. Her heart dropped as she clicked on the comment, her entire being filling with an uneasy feeling. You're only dating him for the money, admit it. Until then, she had never even thought… about that. Throwing her phone to the side she sat up, breathing heavily.
Y/N was currently jobless. After they started going out, she continued working at Starbucks until last year; Sebastian had suggested that she leave the job and work somewhere better, earn a higher salary. Y/N had discarded the idea at first, since the job paid enough for her to go about her daily things and where would she even find another job?
Starbucks was okay. But Sebastian wouldn't hear it. So she left the job, now jobless. She had applied to a few places but hadn't received any news as of yet. They're right. I'm living off of him. I don't even have a job. What does it look like? A broke woman dating a rich, handsome guy? Oh my God, am I leeching off his hard work? All those thoughts rushed through her head in a span of a few seconds.
The more she thought about it, the more she teared up. Blinking the tears away, she lay back down and curled up under the comfortable blankets. His blankets. She closed her eyes, trying her hardest to fall asleep but the tears were proving it to be difficult. Fortunately, she drifted off into an uneasy slumber 15 minutes later.
"Baby, I'm home!"
Silence. Sebastian frowned, carefully walking into the house. "Y/N?" he called out but there was no answer. Keeping the bag he was holding away, he walked further into the apartment, stopping at the doorway of their bedroom. "Aw," he whispered under his breath, smiling, stepping into the bedroom. He gently sat next to his sleeping girlfriend.
His knuckles traced her cheeks but he froze. Why is she so cold? His soft touch was enough to wake her up, because she stirred and blinked up at him. "Seb, hi, welcome back." Her voice was hoarse. "Y/N? Did you fall sick?" he asked worriedly as she sat up, distancing herself from him. "I'm not sick," she muttered but Sebastian wouldn't buy it.
He reached out to cup her cheek, feeling like he had been stabbed multiple times when she leaned away from his touch. "Y/N?" She shook her head and looked out of the window, bringing her knees to her chest. "Just wanna be alone right now." She didn't want to send him away. She wanted to sit in his lap, listen to him rambling about his day…
But she also didn't want to be near him. Do I even deserve him? "What happened?" he insisted, his eyes going wide when she glared at him. "Go. Away." He scrambled off the bed without another word, softly closing the door behind him as he walked into the sitting room, running a hand through his hair. He sat down on the couch and looked around.
What happened in those 6 hours that he was away? Sebastian knew she wasn't on her cycle, it still had another week to come. So it wasn't mood swings. His eyes landed on the empty bowl of Mac and Cheese sitting on the dining table but they skimmed right past it, not knowing that that bowl was the reason for Y/N's sadness. Then he stared at the designer handbag on the opposite couch.
Picking up the bag, he strode back to their room, knocking on the door. Maybe seeing a pretty purse would lighten her mood? "What?" Y/N called out from inside and he opened the door, holding the purse up. "I brought you a gift." Y/N's heart started thudding in her chest and tears glistened in her eyes anew as she stared at the bag with utmost resentment.
"I don't want it."
Sebastian went rigid. She never rejects my gifts. "Y/N—" She started shaking her head. "No. Return it. I'm not taking it. I don't want it," she repeated, her glare now directed at him. "But doll…" he tried, freezing when her jaw clenched. "Get out." Disheartened, he walked out once more, more confused than anything. Now I have to know what happened.
Inside the room, Y/N sobbed silently. The bag was so pretty, her favorite color, the sleek design… she wanted to keep it so bad, but she knew she wasn't worthy of it. Sebastian brought her gifts all the time. Most of them expensive as shit; he had the money to blow off. What had she done for him? Nothing, really. He spoiled her heartily, never once allowing her to do the same.
"You're mine, baby girl, mine to love, mine to cherish, mine to spoil."
She was definitely leeching off him. Outside the room, Sebastian took out his phone and texted Y/F/N, who was Y/N's closest friend. They rarely spoke, but Y/N told Y/F/N everything and he knew she'd have answers.
hey, do you know what's up with y/n
why what happened
she's in a really bad mood
she's angry at me and I brought her a gift but she won't take it
she usually loves them but today…
I know what happened
she texted me in the afternoon
something about a comment on Instagram or something
ig that's why she's in a bad mood
I'll check it out
He ended the conversation and opened Instagram, seeing a new post from his dear girlfriend. Sebastian couldn't help but smile as he liked the photo, commenting a heart emoji. There were only around 22 comments on the post, so he decided to go through them. Which comment had triggered her? He found it instantly and his nostrils flared.
Replying to the fairly rude comment, he typed, how about you fuck off and mind your own damn business? If you don't like her, unfollow and leave. There's literally nothing else you need to do. After hitting send, he kept his phone away and, determination shining in his eyes, ran back to the bedroom.
He threw open the door and a sob escaped the lips of the startled woman. He started taking off the annoying clothes he was wearing until he was just in his boxers, sliding into the bed next to her. She attempted to push him away but the strong man didn't budge, holding her on his lap as she thrashed. Soon, she gave up the fight and melted against him, crying her eyes out.
"I'm sorry," she apologized again and again, her breath hitching. "Hush, baby, it's okay, I'm not mad," he whispered, rubbing her back, helping her calm down. She rested her head on his shoulder, her arms tight around him. "Tell me the truth. What happened?" he asked even though he knew the answer. Tiredly, Y/N narrated everything; from the comment to all her insecurities.
Sebastian gently cupped her cheeks, wiping her tears off. "Y/N, you're mine. I love taking care of you, I love spoiling you, and I don't do it because I expect something in return, I do it because I love you. Don't listen to strangers on the internet, what better work do they have? Nothing but lowlifes. You don't have to do anything for me. I don't want you to do anything for me."
"No. No, you're my girlfriend and only the best for my girl. I love all the gifts you get me. I cherish them wholeheartedly. Just you being my girl is a gift better than anything else in the world, to be honest. But I'm going to continue looking after you whether you like it or not. You don't even have to go to work, I'm here for you. I love you." Y/N teared up again.
They were happy tears.
"I love you so much," she cried weakly and Sebastian pulled her to him, cradling her head, breathing her in. "I love you too, doll. Now will you take my gift, please?" She nodded against him and he gently lowered her on the bed, going outside to get the bag. Once back in their room he handed the bag to her, smiling at the way her eager hands reached up to accept the gift.
As he watched her admiring the bag, he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, till death do them part.
His girl, his lovely girl.
A/N: Leave a like if you enjoyed, thanks for reading!
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Warnings: cursing! Slight angst and mentions of smut!
Sebastian walks over to check on the two of them. Y/a/u/n instantly noticed him walking over where her and Daniel were at. Once Sebastian was closer to them, she broke the news to him. “What...?” Sebastian says in shock. “Yeah... we’re not from here apparently...” Y/a/u/n says. “Doesn’t that shit normally happen in movies?” Sebastian asked her. “Yeah...” She says and then looks down. “That doesn’t mean it’s not possible” Daniel says. She looks up at him. “I mean do you think it’s some weird coincidence that we all came here today?” Daniel asked them. “Wait... why did you come to this shop anyways?” Y/a/u/n asked Daniel. “I just had a weird gut feeling to come here” Daniel says. “That’s odd...” She says. “Y/a/u/n, he could be making this shit up! I mean we both met this man!” ￼Sebastian says. She turns to face Sebastian. “But I trust him” She says. “You can’t trust everyone you meet here in the real world” Sebastian says. “This isn’t a god damn movie Y/a/u/n” Sebastian says. She slaps him in the face. “It’s Y/n” Y/n says and had a pissed off look on her face. “What?” Sebastian asked. “It’s Y/n” She says. “Oh, so now you have a made up name now!” Sebastian says annoyed. Her eyes started to glow. “I don’t think you want to mess with me Barnes” She says as her hands started to glow too. “Y/n...” Daniel starts. She turns to face him. She was shocked. Her eyes had stopped glowing and so did her hands. “Zemo...?” She asked in confusion. He walks up to her and kisses her on the lips. She wraps her arms around his neck. Tears we’re leaving her eyes now. Zemo soon pulls apart. “I thought you were dead...” Y/n says. “I thought you were dead too” Zemo says. “Zemo? Are you two on something?” Sebastian asked them. Zemo and Y/n turned to face him. She uses her powers to make him remember. Bucky’s eyes were wide. “Holy shit!!! I’m so sorry... I don’t know what got into me...” Bucky says. “It’s alright Buck! Now let’s go meet with Doctor Strange” Y/n says. The two of them nodes their heads. Y/n had teleported them their. “Ah! It seems like you guys had finally gotten your memory restored” Stephen says. “Yep!” Y/n says with a smile. “Well let’s get going back then” Stephen says and makes a portal with his hands. The four of them stepped into it. Soon they we’re in front of the Avengers tower. They we’re wearing what they normally wear too. Steve comes outside to see what’s going on. “Bucky...?” Steve asked in a shocked tone. “The one and only” Bucky says with a smile. Steve runs up to hug him. “We should leave those two alone” Y/n says. “Agreed, plus I have a better idea of what we can to celebrate being back in our universe” Zemo says. She turns to face him. “Sex?” Y/n asked him. “Yep” Zemo says. They teleported to her bedroom. Stephen strange just walks into the Avengers tower by himself. Everyone was questioning where he was this whole time. “In another universe” he responds.
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Pairing: Andy Barber x F!Reader
Genre: Fluff, Smut
Warnings: age gap, unprotected sex
Summary: Andy Barber has been through a lot. After getting a divorce from his ex-wife, he moves into the house next to the Y/L/Ns. And he has his eyes on Y/N since day one. Little does he know, Y/N likes him too and things get interesting one night.
Author's Note: Hiya peeps! Before you ask, no, I haven't watched Defending Jacob yet because I do not have the attention span to watch an entire series. So yeah, this has no spoilers. Also, I'm asexual so don't @ me for the smut please and thank you. Enjoy!
"Good morning, Mr Barber!"
He looked up from his phone and saw his neighbor smiling at him. He grinned back at her, his mood immediately lightening. "Hi, Y/N! How many times have I told you, call me Andy," he chided gently, keeping his phone away. "Okay, okay, just feels a little weird, ya know? Anyway, what are you doing here? You almost never take the bus," Y/N chuckled.
He flashed her another grin, his boyish side automatically coming out. It always happened when she was near. Y/N Y/L/N was Andy Barber's cute neighbor, but the only thing is, she was way, way younger than he was, her parents were just a couple of years older than him. Despite the huge age-gap, Y/N had won his heart. And he didn't mind in the slightest.
"My car broke down yesterday, it's at the auto repair shop. I got no other vehicle," he shrugged. Y/N nodded just as she saw her bus approaching. "Are you getting on this one?" she asked him and he squinted. "Nah, not this one. Are you?" She verbally confirmed a yes and turned to look at him fully. "I'll see you later, Mr Barber, bye!" With that, she waved at him and stepped into the bus.
"Andy!" he mouthed when she sat near the window seat, giggling. "Andy," she repeated, winking at him just as the bus turned around the corner. A laugh involuntarily escaped his lips as he ran a hand through his hair. Oh, what am I gonna do with you, angel? Inside the bus, Y/N had to keep herself from fidgeting, too overstimulated after her conversation with the handsome lawyer.
She had had a crush on him ever since he had moved in next-door. Her parents had immediately invited the lone man to dinner and he had, thankfully, accepted. They had a lot of fun; Andy was a proper gentleman, well-spoken, intelligent and extremely handsome. Y/N got a crush on him on the first day itself. She knew about the things his family had been through, and the thought crushed her.
Can't even imagine, your own child, guilty of murder?
Andy and his ex-wife, Laurie had divorced immediately after their son's trial. It was all months ago, though, Andy was doing much better now. He had Y/N, after all. In his thoughts only, but that would suffice. Because he knew, she'd never fall for him. Why would she? He was much older than her, a divorced man, with a son who got convicted for murder.
But Y/N didn't care about any of those things. She liked the Andy who was her awesome, good looking and smart neighbor. That's all that mattered to her. But then came another problem, Y/N's parents. Would they be okay with her going out with him? Of course not! Y/N sighed and leaned her head against the window of the bus; oh God, what ever was she gonna do?
Andy had ruined all men for her.
Looking up, a surprised gasp left the mouths of both; the person inside the office and the person at the door. "Y/N?" Andy blurted out. "Mr Barber?" Y/N blinked as well. "Andy," he corrected incessantly and she waved her arm in dismissal. "Wow, I, uh… I didn't realize— you don't have a name plate outside—" He motioned to the chair in front of him and she sat.
"What happened, darling?"
Y/N unconsciously shivered at the nickname. She loved it when he called her that. "I don't know, my colleague sent me here, she was busy… gave me the address and said there was a file she needed…" Y/N spoke unsurely. Her eyes quickly skimmed over his figure; he had taken off the trenchcoat he was wearing in the morning, leaving him in a tight, white shirt, black trousers and a tie hanging loosely around his neck.
The top three buttons of his shirt were undone, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. Y/N concluded that he looked insanely gorgeous. "Does your colleague happen to be Mrs Renoir? She told me she was coming to get the file." She smiled and nodded at him. "Yes, Mrs Renoir, that's her." Andy smiled back and took out a file from his drawer. "Here you go."
She accepted the file, stowing it away in her bag. "I'll see you!" She moved to get up but Andy tutted, checking his watch. "Why don't you stay, Y/N? It's getting late, we can go home together," he spoke, his eyes soft as he gazed at her. She froze for a moment. "Um, it's fine, I can—" He was shaking his head. "Y/N, if something happens to you, I'll not be able to forgive myself."
What's going on? "Mr Barber—" "Andy." "What do you mean?" He got up from his chair and moved to the couch that was in the room. She sat next to him. "You never stay out this late, Y/N, your parents told me you're usually at home by 8:30. It's almost midnight, and I can't let you venture into the city all alone at this hour. Do you know the dangers that lurk at night?"
Y/N's heart started thudding in her chest. Indeed, this was new to her; and before even meeting with him, she had been scared of roaming the city alone at night. "I don't," she muttered truthfully, looking up when Andy placed his hand on her thigh. "It's okay. You can stay, I just need to go over a few more things and then we can go home, hm?" Y/N grinned and nodded.
Andy lifted his hand off her thigh and went back to his desk. He began scribbling something on a paper, which Y/N realized was a form. After admiring him for a few minutes, she took out her phone and scrolled through her messages. She had already texted her mom about staying out late, and her mother had complained until Y/N told her she was out for business, not fun.
As time passed, Y/N's shoulders sagged. Her eyes drooped, heavy with sleep. "Andy," she whined in a sleepy stupor and his head shot up, "Are you done? I wanna go home!" His dark eyes softened instantly and he chuckled. She looked cute when she was sleepy. "Just a moment, darling, I'm almost finished." Y/N simply groaned and threw her head back against the couch.
Y/N opened her eyes and saw Andy fixing his appearance, before shrugging on the coat. Then he turned to her, offering her his hand with a smile. She took it and heaved herself up, stumbling a little but Andy was there to hold her up. Effortlessly wrapping an arm around her waist, he guided her out of his office, switching off the lights and locking the door.
Both of them walked out of the building and Andy got Y/N seated in the passenger seat of his car. "I thought your car was at the auto repair shop?" Y/N remembered. She felt his chuckle next to her ear as he reached over and fastened her seatbelt and then his own. "Went to get it in the afternoon because I realized buses aren't for me." She giggled and leaned back against the seat.
"Why don't you try and fall asleep? I'll wake you up," he whispered, his heart swelling in his chest when she nodded meekly. "Goodnight, Mr Barber." He still corrected her, "Andy." Truth be told, Y/N didn't want to call him Andy because that would only make her feelings worse. If she called him Mr Barber… that was a constant reminder that he was a man much older, a successful lawyer, and just her neighbor.
"Such a sweet doll." Ever since he heard her whining his name in his office, his mind had clouded over with lust. She sounded so fucking beautiful when she said his name. And suddenly, all he wanted to do was to claim her on his couch. He had controlled himself easily, he knew he had to wait till he had her consent. Which he thought he'd probably never get.
"Thank you so much, Andy!"
"Oh, it's not a problem at all, Mrs Y/L/N. Y/N is great company and I admit, the house does get a little lonely at times," Andy chuckled as Y/N's mother beamed at him. Y/N was looking down at her feet, clutching the handles of her travel bags. She was going to move in with Andy for a few weeks, since her room was getting renovated. There was no other place in the house.
When Andy heard that, he had instantly offered that she move in with him for the time-being. And Y/N's parents were, surprisingly, ecstatic at the idea. "She can move into the guest bedroom," he had spoken at the time. That's how she ended up here; now following Andy into his house as she yelled her goodbyes to her parents. "Welcome! It isn't much, I hope you like it still."
Y/N looked around in awe. The place was well-kept, the colour theme for almost everything was either beige or brown. It all looked very modern and cool. "Are you kidding? This is awesome!" He chuckled at her enthusiasm. "Let me show you to your room." Both of them walked up the stairs and stopped at the first door. Andy opened the door and another gasp left her lips.
"Wow," she whispered automatically and Andy smiled to himself. "I take it that you like it," he drawled, closing the door behind them as they walked into the room. Y/N kept her luggage on the bed and sat down, swinging her legs. "Thanks for all this, Mr Barber, it's appreciated." He scoffed. "Andy," he rectified, "And it was not a problem at all, Y/N, you're my friend."
A chill ran down her spine. His friend? He considered her to be a friend? "A friend, huh, I'm… I'm honored," she chuckled and he grinned. "I'll leave you be now, get comfortable." He waved at her and left the room, going downstairs to get a glass of water for himself. Y/N spent the rest of the day at her place, only returning at nighttime after dinner.
That's how it went for a week. She'd be at her job most days, would have dinner with her parents at night and then would finally walk into Andy's house to get some sleep. She liked the routine, and so did he. When she wasn't at her job, she'd spend the day in the living room of her own, or rather, her parents' house. Only, something changed a week later.
Andy was running late that day. As he drove home, at nearly 1:30 am, he was sure that he was going to be greeted by a quiet and empty house, Y/N already asleep in her room. She always fell asleep before 11:30, he didn't know how she did it. After parking his car in his garage, he walked into the sitting room only to see Y/N sitting in front of the television. She looked up and swtiched it off when he walked in.
"Mr Barber, hi." Her voice was hoarse. "Y/N? Darling, is everything okay?" he asked worriedly, sitting next to her. The dried tear stains on her cheeks made it clear that she had been crying. "I'm fine," she insisted, in vain. Andy gently cupped her cheeks, running his fingers over the stains. "You've been crying, honey, tell me what happened. I'll make it better," he whispered and Y/N melted against him.
"Um, can I… can I please… can I hug you?"
Without another word, Andy pulled her to him, her head resting on his chest as his arms wrapped around her middle. She snuggled into his side. "I just had a bad dream," she mumbled, burying her face in his chest. His arm rose and he delicately cradled her head, massaging her hair with his fingers. Y/N whimpered at the soothing sensation and Andy's heart raced.
"I'm here now, sweetheart, you have nothing to be worried about. I'll protect you, come what may," he uttered softly, almost in a daze. Something inside Y/N stirred deeply when he said those words. She pulled away slightly and he looked down at her, a questioning look on his face. Y/N blushed under his intense stare. "I, um… can I… kiss you?" Her question made Andy's heart beat faster.
Gently grabbing her jaw, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, pulling her into his lap. Y/N kissed back just as fervently, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Do you know how long I've wanted to do that?" Andy asked huskily upon pulling away. "How long?" Y/N squeaked. "Ever since I first saw you. You won my heart right there, Y/N, right at that dinner. The moment I saw you, I knew that you had ruined all women for me."
"Same. I mean, I— not women, obviously, I'm not attracted to other women— men, but—" Andy chuckled and kissed her again, cutting off her rambling. "God, I need to feel you, love, why don't we go upstairs?" It turned out to be a rhetorical question as he immediately stood up, easily carrying Y/N up the stairs. Y/N wrapped her legs around his torso.
He placed her down on his bed, in his bedroom and settled between her legs, hungrily kissing down her body. He used his tongue to stimulate her first, pulling orgasm after orgasm after her. She had never had these many orgasms in one night and that wasn't lost on Andy. "No one has ever made you feel this good, right, darling? Only I can do it this good." Y/N whined loudly when his tongue circled her bud.
"Bet those nasty boys your age have never made you feel this way. Worshipped. You're mine, Y/N, only mine. Say it." Y/N was too overwhelmed to respond, only a pathetic "yours" leaving her lips as she came again. For the… third? No, fourth time? She definitely lost count. "You're so fucking gorgeous," Andy moaned as he emerged from between her thighs, his jaw and chin covered in her juices.
He had eaten her out so well, like her a hungry man offered a meal after a long starvation. Like she was his last meal. Y/N blushed at the sight of him, covering her face with her hands. Andy easily shoved the hands aside, leaning in to kiss her. "All mine. Beautiful. Mine, only mine," he grunted possessively and Y/N gasped when she felt something poking her thigh. She looked down and saw him. He was giant.
"It's too big," she blurted out and Andy chuckled, giving her a soft kiss on the forehead. "You'll be okay." Grabbing the base of his shaft, he slowly pushed inside of her, giving her time to adjust to his size. Y/N winced at the burn on her hips but when he bottomed out inside her, all the pain was replaced by pleasure. "Fuck, so fucking tight," Andy helplessly groaned, leaning forward and resting his forehead against her shoulder.
"Please, please move." Andy complied, thrusting into her at a slow pace at first but when he was certain she was able to handle it, he sped up. Y/N moaned right into his ear as he nibbled on her neck, leaving behind dark, red marks. Now everyone will know she's taken. The moan fueled his libido and he sped up more, growling deep in his chest.
Y/N's eyes flew open at the animalistic sound and she gripped his shoulders, trying to steady herself as she moved like a rag doll against him and his powerful thrusts. "Scream my name, darling, tell everyone who's making you feel so good. Tell everyone you belong to me and me only. You're mine, all mine. I'm never letting you go," he snarled as he neared his release. "Andy," Y/N screamed shamelessly.
"That's it, doll. Months, for months I've tried to get you to say my name. Is that why you've been avoiding it? Can't help but imagine being under me and moaning my name every time you heard it?" he groaned brusquely and Y/N jerked, her orgasm hitting her unexpectedly. "Yes," she whimpered at his previous comment but Andy couldn't speak. Holy shit, she just squirted all over my bed.
His taut abdomen, his shaft, his thighs and his bed were all drenched. Y/N was lying on the bed, her eyes closed, convulsing as she reeled in from the first-time experience. "Shit, baby, do you see this? You just squirted all over me," Andy laughed breathlessly, leaning over to press his lips to hers. Y/N cocked an eye open as a blush spread across her cheeks.
"I what?! Oh my God, I'm so sorry—"
Andy entered her core with one swift motion, shutting her up. "That was fucking hot, doll, do it again," he urged and resumed his fast pace. Y/N cried out tiredly, her eyes landing on the clock in the corner of the room. It's been an hour?! How much energy does this man have? "Andy, I'm—" He was already close to his release and when she took his name, he was done. He pulled out of her and spilled his seed all over her chest and face, groaning loudly.
Then he spit on his fingers and brought them to her bud, furiously rubbing until she squirted again, right on his face. "Oh my God," Andy groaned, licking up and swallowing all her juices. "Andy, I'm tired…" Y/N whined 15 minutes later, after having squirted nearly 5 times in that period. She couldn't even lift a finger, that's how spent she was.
Andy was a sight. All wet, from top to bottom, covered in her juices, he looked like he had just stepped out of a swimming pool. "Okay, baby girl, get some sleep. I'll take care of you." And he did, he gently cleaned her up as she dozed off, and carried her to her room. He then hopped into the shower for a quick wash, dried himself up, put on some boxers and went to Y/N's room as well.
The bed in his room was… well, let's just say it was done for. He was going to be throwing the mattress out the next day, he knew that. When he walked into her room, his heart melted at the sight of her deep asleep, still naked, curled up on her side. He shut the door behind him and walked towards the bed, easily sliding in next to her. He pulled the covers on top of them and pulled Y/N into his arms, dropping a kiss to her shoulder.
"I love you, angel. So sweet, only mine."
A/N: This is the first time I've posted smut and a non-marvel fic 😳 I know it's probably not that good but thanks for reading anyway! Leave a like if you enjoyed!
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okay so i wanted to request a dr. strange fic and y/n steals their cape and strange knows it them but they aren’t gonna snitch on themselves so they act like they don’t know what they are talking about and strange threatens them with their biggest weakness, tickling. so they run away to hide from strange and get “help” from wong and it’s just filled with reading and maybe raspberries (if your comfortable) and yeah. if you don’t want to write for the character feel free to pick another one but yeah. thank you for your time <3
(Doctor Strange x Reader)
Summary: You hid Strange’s cape. Bad idea.
A/N: Thanks for the request<3 Reader can be whatever age you’d like!!
The Kamar-Taj was pretty quiet this morning. A little too quiet for Stephen Strange. As he woke up and arose from his bed, sunshine gleaming through the windows, he decided the silence wasn’t loud enough for him to be bothered. He was planning on learning a new spell; well, that’s what he had told you last night. You had no idea why or what it was he was learning it for, only that you weren’t allowed to bother him. Psh, yeah right. Like that was going to happen. So in order to spitefully remind him of your status as most pesky apprentice, you hid his cape. It wasn’t one of your most intricate ideas, but it was a surefire way to get a rise out of him. Who was he to tell you not to bother him? It’s practically your job at this point!
And so, as he was getting ready for the day, specifically as he was going to attain his beloved cape, it just so happened that it was no where to be found... wonder how that happened.
“Ugh you’ve got to be kidding me. Y/n! Have you seen my cape?” Strange yelled from his bedroom door.
You grinned as you took you ear buds out and walked out into the hallway. “What? No, why?”
“Well I hung it on my door last night, and now it’s gone. Got any ideas?” You shrugged in response.
“No. Not really.” you said as you walked back into your room. Unfortunately, you were stopped immediately in your tracks.
“Woah woah woah! Are you sure you’re telling me the truth?”
One thing about you was that whenever you were guilty or embarrassed - in this case guilty - you turned into a tomato. This was one of those times.
“Uhm yeah?” You were pretty pink at this point.
“Yeah?” A little bit of a red-orange now.
“Mhm!” Beet. Red.
“Knew it. I’m guessing you’re not going to tell me where it is, correct?”
“Mhmmmmm!” you said with a huge smile to play off how utterly tomatoey you looked; you weren’t really surprised that he’d figured you out.
“Hm. I figured.” he said as he tapped his finger on the door frame, and in an instant, he started walking a little too fast for your liking, straight towards you. You having all bark and no bite, screeched as you ran away in an effort to find safety. In that moment, the only ‘safe’ thing that came to mind was Wong.
“WOOOONGGGG! WONGWONGWONGWONG-” you yelled as you finally found the poor man. He was in the library, as expected, and he wasn’t very startled to say the least. Incidents like this happened pretty often; you would do something to piss off Strange, and he would retaliate. You were just hoping he wouldn’t send you through a portal this time around. You hid behind Wong as he sat at his desk, and an all too quick Doctor Strange followed soon after.
“I know you’re there y/n. Just come out I won’t do anything.” You peeked your head out above Wong’s shoulder, and as you did, Strange walked towards you, putting a hand out for you to grab. You were hesitant to do so, but did it anyways. Bad mistake.
As soon as you grabbed his hand, his grip became unbreakable as he pulled you towards him and flew you over his shoulder.
“Wait! Nohohoho! Put me down you ass!”
“Ass? You’re gonna call me an ass while your hanging from my shoulder? Sounds to me like you’ve just sealed you’re fate, bub.” You weren’t much of the affectionate type, so you absolutely hated pet names and he knew that.
“Ugh just put me down! Please!”
“Oh so we’re using manners now. Where were they when they could’ve saved your life?”
“What is that supposed to me- hahahahah! Strange knohohock it ohohoff!” Without giving you any time to protest, he had already began scribbling his fingers into your stomach. “Ihihi hahate THIHihis!”
“No you don’t. If you did, you’d be fighting back.” He replied with a smirk. That jerk. In all honesty, Strange was pretty happy about this newfound discovery. He’d thought if this was the only way you would accept affection, then so be it.
“YeheHEHES Ihihi DOHOhoho!” you screamed.
“Ohhhh okay I get it. So you hate it when I do this?” as he nudged up your shirt with his nose and blew a slobbery raspberry on your ribs. You, on the other hand, were in hysterics.
“AHAHAHAHA! STOHOHOP!” you said as you kicked your legs.
“And this?” as he blew another.
“Aaaaand this too right?” and another. Your laughter went silent, which gave him a cue to stop. He chuckled a bit. “Jeez. So sensitive.” he said as he pulled your shirt down. You gave him a firm kick to the stomach. “Hehey! Don’t make me do this all over again...” he threatened as he wiggled his fingers at you.
“NO!” you shrieked, clutching a pillow in order to protect your torso. “Just for the record, if you ever do that again, you’ll be hearing from my lawyer.” you said, crossing your arms.
“Oh please. After that reaction? I’m definitely doing that again.” he replied, grabbing a spell book and leaving the room.
“Wha-” you paused in defeat. It’s probably safe to say you’d rather be in a portal.
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Someone please help me find this fanfic!!
It’s a Bucky Barnes x reader where they’ve never met but reader is in a coma. They can’t get good medical care cause of money but their spirit/astral projection/whatever it’s called is waking around and Bucky is the only one that can see them. So he finds their hospital room and makes Tony pay for their medical bills. It’s very specific and I can’t find it anywhere!!
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”why dont you talk much?” because i have no one to talk to cause yall are on your phones and when i get my phone out to read some fanfics that gives me The Good Vibes™ you tell me “why are you on your phone? drop it and talk to us!
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“why are you always on your phone?” the fictional characters are providing me with the endorphins, serotonin, and other things i need while i read as they comfort me in times of need while all you do is insult my interests and tell me im too sensitive
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Marvel x Chubbyreader imagine
Imagine going shopping and one of the employees/customers bodyshaming you.
You find a cute dress and try it on. You get out of the dressing room and Tony's awestruck expression is enough for you to beam with pride.
" What do you think ?"
For once, Tony remains silent and only takes out his credit card as an answer.
" I'm buying this dress, and there's nothing you can do about it."
You giggle, but then someone's nasty comment makes it's way in your ear.
" Look at all that fat, it even moves when she laughs. It's disgusting. Nobody wants to see that.."
Tony stops dead in his tracks and turns towards the man with a fake smile before simply stating.
" You're fired."
The employee only laughs mockingly before replying confidently.
" I don't even work for you."
But, Tony walks to him and stares right at him with a death stare.
" I don't care, a**h*le. I buy the shop, thereby I become your boss and fire you. Now, get out of my sight before I pulverize your a**."
The employee doesn't say anything else and just walks away, not before glancing one last time at you with hatred. Tony wraps his arm around you defensively until he is definitely gone. However, the damage has been done and you finally utter weakly.
" M..Maybe I should just put the dress back.."
But, Tony doesn't let go and whispers in your ear in an hungry tone.
" Don't you dare.."
He then pays for the dress and as soon as you're in the car, he kisses you with such passion that it takes your breath away.
" Home ?"
You ask and he nods before replying in agreement.
You already knew that Bucky was handsome..But, that didn't mean that it hurt less when people made comments about it. You spot a beautiful dress and the employee quickly takes out the dress with a huge smile.
" Here you go ! I'm sure you'll be perfect in it !"
You smile happily and nod before entering the dressing room. However, you don't even have to time to get out that you hear the same employee talking to one of the other customers.
" Oh my God ! Did you see that ?! It's a shame to let oneself go this far ! They look like a freaking mammoth in a dress. If she is like this..I can only imagine the man accompanying her !"
You don't dare get out as they start laughing together. You feel tears in your eyes, threatening to spill at any moment. However, the door of your dressing room opens and Bucky gets in, worried since you seemed to be taking a long time. The moment his eyes land on you, he finds you gorgeous in the dress and promises himself to buy it. But then, he sees you face and crouches in front of you with a worried expression.
" What happened ?"
You don't have to answer as the employee outside makes her voice heard again.
" Are you finished, miss ? Or do you have some trouble putting it on ? Do you want a bigger size ?"
He automatically understands and clenches his jaw, glaring at the door before looking back at you with a small smile.
" Did you hear that doll ? Sounded like a death wish to me.."
He takes your hand and kicks the door open, shocking the woman that falls on her butt and looks up at the you with a glare, not noticing Bucky standing behind you.
" Watch where you're going, you big ugly..!"
She doesn't have the time to finish her sentence as Bucky steps out and crouches in front of her to take her by the jaw harshly.
" Next time you even look at her with anything else than admiration or respect, I will make sure that you can't look at all..Understood ?"
The woman only nods in agreement and Bucky stands up, satisfied. He takes you by the waist and leaves the shop after having paid for the dress. You arrive in the parking and Bucky opens the door of his car for you.
" Now, let's go dancing..Okay ?"
Bucky asks and, when you don't answer, he turns around to see you with a frown on your face.
" Are you sure we should still go on that date ? People will still look at us and I think it would maybe be better if..Mmmmppphhh !"
You don't have the time to finish your sentence that he pins you to a nearby wall and kisses you with his hand wrapped around your throat.
" Now, I will only accept two answers from you. Dancing or kissing ? Your choice."
You smile and kiss him hungrily again. Looks like the choice is made.
" Yuck..Look at those stretch marks. They should go cover all of that up.."
Sam can't believe what he is hearing and looks at the man with anger radiating from him. You want to say that it's fine, but Sam doesn't give up and glares at the man while trying to remain calm.
" Man, shut the hell up. She is perfect in every way and there is nothing, absolutely nothing, wrong with having tiger stripes. It just means that if you were in the wild, they would be the one surving.."
You have tears in your eyes at his beautiful metaphor, but the man only laughs mockingly while eyeing you up and down.
" If the tiger is as slow and overfed as this one, won't be a problem outrunning it.."
Sam walks towards the employee and stands just in front of him before replying.
" That's where you're wrong..because this tiger is always accompanied by a falcon that will not hesitate before ripping the eyes of its prey.."
He doesn't understand until Sam punches him straight in the nose. The man whimpers in pain on the floor while Sam doesn't wait before grabbing your hand and stepping over the whimpering man.
" Come on, tiger..Let's go home.."
Vision was clearly excited when you asked him if he wanted to go shopping with you. He was starting to worry about you as you hadn't come out of your room for a while. When you both arrive, your eyes immediately see a very interesting dress that you want to try automatically. It calls you and you drag Vision along as he looks at you with a wide smile, happy to see you so happy. You take the dress and try it on. However, when you get out, you didn't plan on another person being there.
" Oh my God ! You're going to damage the dress ! Take it off !"
The man nearly shrieks and Vision frowns up at the man.
" What do you mean ? You think the dress isn't a good fit ?"
The man sneers in disdain before lookin at you with clear disgust written all over his features.
" No..SHE's not a good fit for the dress.."
Vision's eyes widen perceptibly and you can see his fingers digging into the arms of the chair. However, he still succeeds in remaining calm and answers with cold smile.
" Oh, I see..Apologies my good sir, I thought you were just mistaking, but I can see now that you're just a moron."
The man is shocked and gapes at the insult like a fish out of water.
" What did you call me ?!"
He finally shouts in indignation, but Vision, far from being intimidated, only continues to smile falsely before repeating.
" A moron. Should I repeat it again, sir ? Are you perhaps deaf ?"
The man becomes as red as a tomato and wants to slap Vision that only takes a step to the side. In an instant, he restrains the man on the floor and, in his usual polite smile, says.
" Now, the lady here is doing her best to manage her insecurities. It took weeks for me to reassure her that she is perfectly fine, and you ? You just destroyed all of my efforts with one sentence."
He is about to break the man's arm when you gently run your hand on his back soothingly. He seems to remember where he is and gets up in an instant. He then takes you by the hand to pay for the dress and get out of the shop. You wait until you are in the parking lot before stopping and making him look at you. He seems as upset as you and you try to calm him down by gently kissing him on the lips.
" Sorry..He just was so mean to you and I.."
You kiss him again and he finally melts into the kiss.
" Never say sorry for acting heroically..You acted amazing out there.."
He smiles proudly before picking you up.
" Vision ! What are you doing ?!"
You exclaim before he answers with a small smile.
" I'm taking my wife home."
He then takes back his original form and flies up in the air.
" Miss, I need you to step out of the dress. There is the scale on your right, we don't accept anything outside of size Medium in here."
You are about to reply when Scott suddenly stands up and glares at the salesman.
" No one. Tells. My. Wife. That. She. Looks. Fat."
Scott would normally go with the pacifist approach, but when it comes to directly insulting you about the thing that you're most insecure about ? Get prepared for full-on mad Scott. He will make a scene. He will physically attack the employee. It will take you to physically restrain him from scratching the man too much. He will ask to talk to his boss and will not go without a sincere apology. Don't mess with angry Scott.
" Get up ! Come on ! I'm not finished with you !"
He wouldn't say anything because you told him that you didn't want him to kill anyone again. But give him the chance ? And he would take the man's tongue and cut it so he may never speak again.
" Come on, let's go, Loki..The dress is not that important anyway.."
You take his hand and try to gently guide him outside of the dressing lounge. But, the employee adds before you could avoid any more problems.
" Yeah..The dress would be wasted on you anyway.."
This is the last straw. He turns towards the man with a dagger in hand and threatens him by putting it against his throat.
" One more word, and I will skin you like the pitiful human scum that you are ! Now, address one more time to my future wife with this sort of disgusting behavior, and your may find a thousand snakes hidden in your bed."
You drag him outside, grabbing your clothes and paying quickly. Loki frowns, upset at the fact that you didn't let him finish. You run out and it's only when you're in the car that you turn towards Loki with tears in your eyes.
" Loki. One more complaint and they will throw you in a cell again. Is that really what you want ?! Don't make idiots the reason we are separated again.."
He understands your concern and gently strokes your cheek with his thumb before kissing your forehead.
" Never..I just don't like how people treat you around here. It's so unusual. In Asgard, we don't care about the size, we care about how a woman fights. Here, you are called weak by strangers, and when you try to defend yourself, you are blamed. It just doesn't make any sense.."
You laugh at his perplexity before answering him with a kiss on the cheek.
" Never change, Loki.."
Sometimes, when you're alone like this, Loki seems almost innocent. He hasn't been shaped to understand human flaws, he even has trouble understanding why. But, this is why you love him.
" Hey, fata**! Move out of the way ! You are blocking my view !"
A customer yells at you as you just got out of the dressing room. She tries to get in, but Stephen only arks an eyebrow and uses his time stone on her.
She stammers and Stephen quickly answers.
" You are in my realm. I was just checking if you are relevant in any dimension or time-line..Guess what ? You are not. I could send you to another planet and nobody would come looking for you. Now, do I make myself clear when I say to never speak so rudely to anyone again, and especially not her ?"
The woman nods her head vividly and Stephen smiles before making them both come back to reality. The customer looks shocked for a moment, but she only humphs and walks away. You look at him with an eyebrow raised in suspicion.
" Stephen..What did you do ?"
You ask, but he only smiles innocently at you.
" Nothing, dear. Just had to get some things done..By the way, this dress is lovely. I'll pay for it."
You quickly nod and get back in the dressing room. However, you can't seem to be able to open the back zip and finally ask for Stephen's help. He wants to act casual, but is still nervous when you ask for his help..He still enters and pulls the zip down, marveling on the exposed skin of your back in the process. He slowly runs his fingers up and down your back before kissing your neck shortly and getting out. You still smile. At least, you had your approval on the dress..
The moment you enter, everybody stares at you, Thor had insisted on coming with you in his mighty armor and you just knew it would attract many eyes..and the comments didn't take long to arrive..
" Did you see that ?! How did she manage to pull him off ?! I mean..Why her ?! It's surprising."
You hide behind Thor in shame and he quickly notices why. He approaches the man and leans in front of him with a fake smile.
" Is it though ?"
The employee seems taken aback and takes a moment to answer.
" What ?"
" Surprising ? Is it normal for humans to act in such a way when they have flaws themselves ? I mean, your brain is the size of a poptart, and you don't see me complaining about it now, do I ? I don't think you're even worthy of gazing upon her. She's a queen. A woman who has been by my side from the beginning to the end and who never left my side, even when death was upon us. Would you have done the same ? What are you compared to her ?"
Both you and the employee are shocked by Thor's words and he then takes you by the waist to kiss you in front of everyone, even going as far as squeezing your hips. You blush vividly, but he then takes a step back and looks around before shouting for everyone to hear while pointing you with his index.
" This is my woman ! She is just the way I want her and if everyone has a problem with that, he can come and talk to me !"
That quickly shuts everyone up and he then takes your hand, having spotted a very gorgeous red dress that he just knows would look good on you..or off you. 😏😂
Thor can be very confused about many human things, but he knows when something is wrong with his human and will do everything to make you feel better.
He wouldn't say anything, but as soon as your home..He would take his arrows and bow.
" Where are you going ?"
He would simply reply and you already know that if you let him go, the employee will be psychologically scarred for the rest of his life..You post yourself in front of the door and refuse to let him pass.
" Come on, darling. Move. I just wanna talk to him..I just wanna talk to him.."
He would try to reassure you, but then, he would remember how ashamed you seemed when buying said dress. His mindset completely shifts to murderous mode as he tries to get past you.
" I just wanna kill him..I just wanna kill him.."
You wrap your arms around his waist and refuse to move.
" Come on ! You're stronger than this, my love ! Don't do it !"
He finally sighs in defeat before nodding in agreement. However, he takes you by the arms for you to get up and gently kisses you.
" I would do anything for you..Okay ?"
You smile and nod, knowing that he means it.
" I know.."
" Hey there.."
You try to ignore the woman openly flirting with your boyfriend, but it's hard when she whispers something in his ear. Something that makes him cross his arms and frown.
" I'm sorry ?"
He says, apparently confused and the woman only giggles before wrapping her arms around his arm.
" You heard me cutie, come with me and leave the pig behind.."
You nearly choke on your own saliva as she repeats high enough for you to hear..You turn around and see an angry Steve that suddenly gets up and glares down at the woman.
" Oh no..You misunderstood. I was genuinely sorry for the fact that no amount of make-up will ever be able to cover your mean heart. Now, leave us Regina George, before I decide to make you leave."
The woman's eyes widen and she turns around with a loud dramatic humph. In an instant, Steve is by your side and covers your face with kisses.
" Don't listen to her. She isn't worth it..And her perfume was just horrible, I need to wash it off when we get home."
You smile with tears in your eyes, reassured and extremely grateful for having such a perfect man in your life..
" Wait..How do you know Mean Girls ?"
You suddenly inquire as you remember that the movie only got out a few years ago..He smiles before blushing almost embarrassingly. He then admits while massaging the back of his neck with his hand nervously.
" I decided to culture myself..And I also heard Hawkeye talk about how his girl has been going crazy over that movie..So, I decided to check it out.."
Your eyes widen at the information and you smile almost mischievously.
" This is actually very "unlike" you, Rogers..Listening on doors..Are you turning to the Dark Side of the Force ?"
He looks back at you with an arked eyebrow, visibly confused and you sigh loudly.
" Oh come on ! Star Wars ! Don't tell me you've watched Mean Girls but never heard about Star Wars ! "
He only shrugs and you suddenly take him by the arm to drag him towards the exit.
" B..But the dress ?!"
He exclaims and you only reply with a slight grin.
" The dress can wait. We've got other very important matters to intend to !"
He suddenly gets out of your grip to run to get the dress and pay for it before coming back to you. He then grabs your hand with a huge smile.
" Now, we can go."
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|| MCU Masterlist ||
* This masterlist will be updated when new works are posted
*Mostly reader insert works. Any other pairings will be specified.
UPDATED - 04/25/21
** I have not yet watched WV or TFATWS.
Stucky (Steve x Bucky)
Love You, Rogers (Angst) (Old Drabble)
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Pairing: Steve Rogers x Desi!F!Reader
Warnings: deals with racism
Genre: Fluff, Angst
Summary: Steve sees Y/N for the first time and instantly falls in love, finally getting the date he wanted 6 months after meeting her. When they go to a restaurant, though, things go downhill.
Author's Note: Hiya peeps! This one is for my desi readers lmao but everyone is allowed to read (pls do lol). Enjoy!
"Yeah, excuse me, one second—"
Bucky and Sam waved him off as Steve stepped into the balcony at Bucky's place, taking out his phone which was ringing. As he stood there talking to the person on the other end, his eyes landed on the balcony next-door. His phone nearly dropped from his hand, his eyes bulging, a shocked look on his face.
How come Bucky never told him his next-door neighbor was so pretty?
She was wearing headphones, singing along to the songs as she cleaned her balcony. Only, the songs she was singing weren't English. Judging by the accent and words, his best guess was Hindi. Her voice was angelic, and her looks further confirmed the fact. That woman was going to be the death of him.
"Rogers, Rogers, are you listening?!"
"Uh— yeah, sorry, you were saying?"
After the call ended, he went back inside and towered over Bucky, who was sitting on the couch and having beer with Sam. Bucky raised an eyebrow at Steve's stance; his arms were crossed and he had a glare on his face. "What did I do?" he drawled. "Who's your neighbor?" Bucky blinked.
"My nei— oh! On my right, Y/N. Why, what happened?" Steve groaned and plopped down next to his best mate, grabbing a bottle of beer for himself. "How come you never told me your neighbor was so hot?!" Bucky burst out laughing as Sam stood up, walking into the balcony to check for himself. His eyes, too, went wide and his jaw dropped.
Y/N, when she felt someone's stare on her, paused the music and turned to see an incredibly handsome, dark-skinned man staring at her, jaw dropped. Her cheeks flushed and she lowered her gaze, turning away from him. No way. Why would someone look at her in that way? When she looked back up, no one was there.
She shrugged and continued working, resuming her favorite Bollywood Hits playlist. "Aye, aye Y/N!" Blinking, she looked up again and saw three men standing in the balcony. A white, blond haired man, the previous handsome dark-skinned man and her neighbor, Bucky Barnes.
"Hi Bucky, your friends?" she smiled at him, taking off the headphones. Steve's heart squeezed in his chest at her accent; God, she was breathtaking. "Yeah. Sam and Steve. Guys, this is Y/N Y/L/N." Y/N snorted at that, coming over to rest her hands on the railing of her balcony. "How do you manage to get it right, always? Accent and everything."
"I try my best," he winked at her and she grinned. Bucky, ever since he had moved into the apartment, had shamelessly flirted with her. Y/N didn't like him back, but she got flustered at every single pick up line and Bucky found her endearing. Recently he had stopped but they still talked; he was now like her protective friend.
"How long have you been living in America?" Sam asked her, grinning. "A few years now," she answered, giving him a smile. "Where did you live before moving here?" Steve inquired. "I used to live in Mumbai," she grinned at him. "Nice, nice. Well, I see you're busy right now, how about we go back inside, boys?" Bucky clapped both men on the back and went inside.
Sam followed but Steve stayed where he was. "I heard you singing, you have a brilliant voice," he smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Thank you! I actually took lessons, back when I was in India," she laughed, picking up the headphones again as he followed his friends into the apartment.
What had just happened?
After that day, Steve's visits to Bucky's apartment became more and more frequent. He often bought gifts for her; tiny things, like her favorite Starbucks order (that he had learnt from Bucky) or flowers, like a true 40's gentleman. Bucky passed on the gifts to her, saying Steve left them at his place to pass them on to her.
Y/N always had the same question on her mind, why? Why would he bring her gifts? Bucky used to suggest that he liked her and wanted to take her out on a date, but Y/N never believed him. Why would Captain America, an American hero, a global sensation, want to take her out on a date?
6 months passed just like that; the boys were back at Bucky's apartment after a gruesome mission, chilling around and having beers. That's when they heard it. A loud shriek came from Y/N's apartment, followed by… more loud shrieks and smashing of glass kitchenware. Steve's blood ran cold; Y/N was in trouble and he needed to do something.
He abruptly stood up and ran out of the apartment, breaking into Y/N's with ease. He didn't expect what hit him, though; Y/N was crouched near the door, her knees pulled to her chest, seemingly cowering away from… nothing? "Steve!" Y/N sobbed when she saw him, immediately getting up and throwing herself into his willing, open arms.
"Y/N? Doll, what happened?" Steve whispered into her hair, rubbing her back, trying to soothe her. Bucky and Sam entered the apartment too, looking around for potential danger. "Th-There's a lizard in my apartment… I—" She gulped, trying to keep more tears at bay, "I have a phobia of liz-lizards, please get it out, please," she cried into his shoulder.
Steve didn't laugh. He simply held her close, looking around for the tiny reptile. Sam located it near the window and easily shoo-ed it out, Bucky cleaning the glass that was lying on the floor. Y/N probably dropped the plate in shock and fear. "Y/N, it's gone, you're fine," he smiled, making no move to get her out of his arms.
"Are you sure?" Y/N asked meekly, pulling away from him. She finally realized how close they were standing and blushed; she liked the man too, had liked him ever since Bucky suggested he was into her. Their lips were currently only inches apart. "Yep, I'm sure. Sam got it out of the apartment." An agreeing noise came from Sam and Y/N finally relaxed.
Bucky stepped into the sitting room after throwing away the glass pieces in the trash can that was in the kitchen. "Thank you so much, Bucky." Y/N looked at her neighbor with a smile. "Call me whenever those things bother again, okay? I'm always here for you." Steve watched as Bucky and Y/N shared a hug.
"Thank you for shoo-ing it out, Sam," Y/N said next, turning to his friend. They gave each other a hug, too. "No worries at all," he winked at her and Steve smiled when she blushed. She looked cute when she was flustered. "And finally, thank you Captain America for… keeping me safe," she breathed out, her breath hitching when she turned to her crush.
"Oh, no problem at all!"
Bucky and Sam left the apartment, leaving the two with their obvious tension. "Listen, um, I was wondering… would you like to get dinner sometime? There's a diner nearby, Bucky's friend works there…" "I'd love to get dinner with you." Expecting a hug, she was pleasantly surprised when he leaned in and gave her a sweet peck on the lips.
They shared numbers and Steve left the apartment with a huge grin on his face.
He was finally getting the date he had wanted for 6 months.
He looked up, grinning when he saw Y/N making her way towards him, dressed in a magnificent red dress. "Doll, you look wonderful," he commented, bringing her in his arms. He pressed a kiss to her cheek to not spoil her makeup, and Y/N giggled at that. "Shall we?" Y/N nodded and the two people entered the diner.
Almost everyone looked up at them, their eyes going wide when they saw Steve. Then their eyes immediately narrowed at Y/N, because who was she? Surely Captain America was not dating an immigrant? Y/N's brows furrowed and she unconsciously shifted closer to Steve, who hadn't noticed anything.
"Hi, I'm Adam, your server for the day. What would you like to order?" Steve and Y/N went over the menu and Steve gave his order first. Y/N's voice cracked slightly when she noticed how Adam grimaced at her accent. She had made no point of getting a fake American accent, since she loved her desi one so much.
"Will that be all?" Adam turned to Steve, an eyebrow raised. "Yeah, thanks." Adam went away and Y/N's eyes followed his form. He went back to his friends and talked to them in hushed whispers, which made them all giggle quietly and sneer. Y/N's heart started thudding in her chest, her fear unbeknown to Steve.
Then suddenly, she noticed a young East Asian lady in the bunch who was frowning at the others. Her gaze caught Y/N's and she gave her a small, apologetic smile, nodding her head towards the white people that were talking shit about her. She reluctantly returned a smile; at least she wasn't the only person of colour around.
Startled, Y/N turned to see Steve blinking at her. "Hm?" she cleared her throat, giving him a grin. "Is something the matter? I called your name three times and you weren't listening…" Oh God, was this date too boring for her? Should he have done something else? "Sorry, sorry, just lost… what's up?"
They maintained a light-hearted conversation as they waited for the food to arrive. Surprisingly, it was the East Asian woman who brought them their orders. "Hi, I'm Leah, I'm replacing Adam. Here are your dishes." Leah placed the food in front of them. "What happened to Adam?" Steve asked curiously.
Y/N tensed up. "Um, does that really matter? Thank you so much Leah, that will be all for now." Y/N briefly closed her eyes as Leah sympathetically patted her on the shoulder, going away. "Y/N, is something the matter? You've kinda been on the edge ever since we walked into the diner," Steve asked finally.
"You wouldn't get it," Y/N muttered, prodding her food. "What? Try me, tell me, please," he insisted, eyes going wide when Y/N's filled with tears. "Just eat your food, Steve." Heartbroken, Steve only watched as Y/N gulped down her food through the tears.
Leah was watching the couple and she sighed when she saw Y/N crying. Wiping her hands on her apron she walked up to the couple and stood next to them. Y/N didn't look up, but she could tell it was her. "Is everything okay?" Steve asked her, now getting irritated. "I know what happened to her, sir."
Steve blinked. "What is it?" he asked, desperate for answers. "I replaced Adam because he was being a racist jerk. Everyone working here, in fact, is looking at you two weird. You can't help but notice the stares, speaking as a POC. You wouldn't get it, Mr Rogers, you're the pinnacle of America, a blond, white man. We have it rough."
He turned to see Y/N desperately hiding her tears as she tried (and failed) to choke down the food. "My coworkers were talking about you two. Why would Captain America want to go out with an immigrant? Why doesn't he settle for a nice, white lady, that's more his type. I'm sorry about that," Leah spoke quietly, toying with her hands.
Steve's entire being filled with rage like he had never felt before. He pushed himself off the table and stormed past Leah, who sat next to Y/N and tried to console her. Y/N's tears ceased when the palm of Steve's hand connected hard with Adam's cheek. Everyone in the diner froze. "How dare you," Steve breathed out.
Adam clutched his cheek, paralyzed with fear. "How dare you talk about my date like that? Who I like or hate is none of your business. Not any of your business!" He yelled the last line. "If I ever, ever catch you talking about my love life again, any of you, you'll be sorry you were ever born!" With that, Steve returned to his table.
Pulling out his wallet, he paid for his untouched and Y/N's half-eaten food, handing the money to Leah with a smile. "Thank you," he told her sincerely, helping Y/N into her coat. "No worries, sir. You two make a cute couple," Leah chuckled, waving as the two walked out of the diner. Y/N, as soon as they were outside, threw herself in Steve's arms.
"I'm sorry for ruining our date," she mumbled into his neck as his arms went around her waist, bringing her close. "You didn't ruin anything, doll. How about next time, we meet at my place and order takeout?" he suggested, pulling away and wiping Y/N's face with his fingers. "I'd like that a lot."
"Let me drop you home, come on." With a soft kiss placed on her forehead, the two walked back to her apartment building hand-in-hand.
A/N: Leave a like you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!
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Strict, Loving Care
Characters: Stephen Strange x female!reader; Christine Palmer
Summary: After you get injured in a car accident, your favourite Master of the Mystic Arts takes over your care, which you find just as endearing as you do annoying.
Set before Infinity War
Request: @writingonabrokenwall I am into Dr. Strange but more as a caretaker boyfriend/husband/soft-dom idk what your preference of writing is. :)
I’ve been very excited to write for Dr Strange and I hope I did him justice! Long life the soft sassy magician!
Warnings: Some swearing, more comfort than hurt, fluffy moments
“Low but stable. She’s a fighter.”
“ETA on arrival?”
“Six minutes. Doctor Palmer is ready to receive.”
“Did we get a next of kin?”
“Yeah he’ll be there… apparently he’s some kind of doctor.”
A distant beeping grew louder, slowly bringing you into reality. You opened your eyes to find yourself in a dimly lit hospital room, hooked up to a heart monitor and an IV drip. Taking in a deep breath, you were surprised by the pain in your chest which set off a coughing fit, causing even more pain. “Hey there, take it easy.” A soothing voice called out, followed by a pair of hands holding you carefully and helping you sit up. Leaning against the figure, you immediately recognised the fabric of his clothes and the scent of old books and magic. “Stephen.” You barely croaked out. He helped you lean back into the bed and used the remote to raise your head to a more relaxed position. “The one and only.” He grinned. Grabbing a cup of water from the side, he placed a long white straw in it and the guided the other end to your mouth, “Drink.” You obeyed and very slowly managed to drink the whole cup, feeling the cold liquid easing down your throat. Your eyes never left his face, watching him concentrate on holding the cup carefully for you, not wanting it to spill. You loved the way his eyes narrowed in on his task, how his brows would furrow to the point of joining together, and sometimes you’d see his tongue protruding between his teeth. “You’re staring.” He smirked, placing the cup back on the table.
“I’ve never had a hot doctor before.” You teased.
He raised his eyebrow, “Oh I’m not your doctor.” He replied, just as the door opened and Christine walked in, a big smile on your face when she saw you, “Hey you’re awake! That’s great news!”
You turned to Stephen, “My statement still stands.” Then winked which made him laugh. “Hey Christine, or should I say ‘Doctor’?”
“Christine is fine,” She gave you a polite smile then began looking at your charts on the end of your bed, “How are you feeling y/n?”
“Like I got hit by a truck.” You tried to laugh but it came out as a pained chuckle. “Is the other driver okay?”
“Not a scratch,” Stephen answered, his tone harsh, “But the asshole is in custody, he was drunk as all hell.”
“Damn. I assume if Christine is my doctor then I was in bad shape?”
She pursed her lips, “Was. A broken tibia and plenty of bruising. You even tried to challenge me with some internal bleeding. But you’re healing well, a few more days and we can look at discharging you.”
“Why not just discharge her into my care now?” Stephen added, glancing at you both, “There’s nothing more to be done here, I can take care of y/n back at the Sanctum.”
“Oh dear god, please don’t Christine.” You joked, earning a frown from Stephen. Christine smirked as she stood by the door, “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t be so cruel. See you later.” She winked at you then left, closing the door behind her.
“Are you saying you don’t want me to take care of you night and day?” He asked in an almost accusatory tone. Turning to look at him, you smiled at the mock offense he was showing in his face, “Sweetie, as much as I love having your attention, being your patient would be a nightmare!”
Despite her comment, you ended up being released that evening, most likely because of Stephen’s influence in the hospital. As he brought you to the Sanctum, you realised he had made various preparations to his bedroom, including a stack of books and a suitcase which looked very similar to your one. “Did you… raid my apartment?” You asked as he wheeled you to the side of the bed. “Well, I went to get some clothes then I figured you’d want some books, I didn’t know which ones so I brought them all.” He flashed a smile before helping you into the bed, propping you up with a mountain of pillows and taking great care with the cast on your left leg. “You okay? Need any more pillows?”
“I’m good thank you.” You beckoned him closer with your finger then grabbed his collar to place a kiss on his lips, “So now you’re my hot doctor, right?” He laughed, staying barely an inch from your face, “I guess so. But don’t think you can get away with anything, I’ll be having you under my strict care.”
“Ooh promise?” You teased before another coughing fit caught up with you, the bruising in your chest throbbing. Stephen quickly wrapped his arms around you, gently rubbing your back until the coughing subsided. “Wow, cockblocked by my own injuries.” You croaked. Stephen laid you back into the pillows and lifted the bedsheet over your body, “We can pick that up another time. For now, rest y/n. I’ll be back later.”
Over the next few days, Stephen’s care was certainly proving to be strict. That said, he gave you anything you wanted; drinks, food, books, whatever you requested he would get for you no questions asked. But he never let you out of his sight, only letting you leave the bed for bathroom breaks and even then he’d be in there with you. “Stephen, I can piss by myself thanks.” You groaned as you hobbled to the bathroom door, trying not to lean on your cast.
“I know, but you still don’t have your full strength yet and I can’t have you collapsing in there.”
“Stephen.” You said in a stern manner as you leant against the doorframe and looked at him, “I love you and I appreciate you looking after me, but if you follow me in here I swear to God I’ll piss on you instead.”
“Alright, alright.” He said holding his hands up in surrender. You sighed and entered the bathroom, making sure to close the door behind you and lock it, knowing that would annoy him even more.
Stretching your legs and feeling the cut that ran down your right calf, you decided to also wash yourself as well, taking the time to move slow as you undressed. You caught your reflection in the mirror and was shocked by the amount of bruising, a watercolour splodge of blues and yellows. Using a sponge, you very gently began washing your skin; the water felt soothingly warm, your muscles breathing in the heat, as you slowly cleaned yourself. Being independent had always been important to you, never needing anyone since you were a teen; and as much as you lapped up Stephen’s attention, the man couldn’t differentiate between being caring and being obsessive. Eventually you wrapped a dressing gown around yourself and unlocked the door, finding a sorrowful looking Stephen on the other side. “I did it.” You said with an almost childlike smile. His frown melted away and he moved over to you, placing his arms on your back and kissing you gently. “Well done, honey.” His smile only reached his mouth, his eyes still dull, “I’m sorry for crowding you. When I got the call about the accident I almost lost it, all I could think about was my crash and I… I couldn’t bear it if the same thing had happened to you.”
“But I’m okay,” You placed your hand on his cheek, offering him a reassuring smile, “I’m only a little broken, but we already knew that.” You winked, causing a small smile to appear on his face. “Let’s make a deal. You can dote on me all you want, but you let me go to the bathroom on my own. Agreed?”
“Bargaining’s my thing,” He smirked then kissed your forehead, “But I accept.” He helped you put some fresh pajamas on then led you to your side of the bed. “For now, I want you to relax and I’ll make some lunch, got it?”
“Yes doctor.” You grinned. He squinted at you before placing another kiss on your lips. Maybe being his patient could be much better than you thought.
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Headcanons: The moments they realize they have feelings for you; Part Two.
Headcanons: The moments they realize they have feelings for you; Part Two.
Part One Here (Thor; Loki; Steve Rogers; Bucky Barnes; Sam Wilson; Tony Stark; and Bruce Banner. )
Let me know if there are characters you might want in a Part Three.
Pairings: Gender Neutral Reader x Wanda Maximoff; Natasha Romanoff; Clint Barton; Stephen Strange; T’Challa; Vision; Peter Parker (Aged Up; 18+).
Everything Tag: @criminaly-supernatural, @caswinchester2000
Marvel Tag: @aquariuslavenderhoney, @trashywritestrash, @groovyfluxie, @marvelouslyme96, @supersourlemon13, @mochamoff, @simsiddy
Wanda felt a connection with you during the battle of Ultron when you and Clint made her realize that she was worthy of being good. Afterwards you worked with her during her training to become an Avenger and she knew she felt strongly towards you but wasn’t exactly sure what the feelings she had were exactly.
It didn’t really click in her brain until the accords were struck. She felt trapped and dangerous and you came to her and told her “Just because you can be dangerous doesn’t make you bad. Your good intentions and your morals prove who you are Wanda. You are not bad. You are good to your core, you just need more time to learn how to fully be who and what you are. One day, you’ll see what I do.” That was the moment she realized just what her feelings were, not just friendship or gratitude, but the beginnings of love.
You and Nat had known each other for a long time, and were good friends and always had each others back. It wasn’t until you both joined the Avengers that she began to notice things she didn’t before. How truly compassionate you were, and just how much you wanted to be good and help people.
After the battle of New York when she met back up with you, seeing that you were both safe. She knew something had changed, she didn’t see you the same way she had before. Seeing how much you gave in battle and how strong you were for others, made her feel more confident and worthy of being an Avenger. From that moment on, she knew that you meant much more to her than before.
You had been recruited to join the Avengers and and that’s when you first met Clint. He took a liking to you immediately, thinking you were funny, smart, and had good strategic thinking and weren’t as brash as some others on the team *cough*Tony*cough*. You and Clint had similar personalities and morals, and he appreciated this a lot and made him have a soft spot for you pretty quickly.
He accepted that he developed feelings for you towards the end of the battle when he really saw you using your abilities up close. You were stronger than the others expected and you worked hard. You didn’t give in to your exhaustion and did your best to help everyone around you. You and Clint fought side by side at the very end of the battle and he knew that he would want you with him in any battle he had to fight.
You met Stephen during the battle with Thanos, you didn’t interact much with him, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t noticed you. Though he was a bit too preoccupied to do anything about it. But afterwards, when you won and brought everyone back, you ended up finding Stephen at the sanctum. Most of the Avengers and SHIELD thought it would best if you became allies with the likes of the Sorcerer Supreme, and you were acting as a go-between.
This amused and excited Stephen when he learned why you were there. So, he began to explain to you what he could about his purpose and job. He learned early on that you could keep secrets and were very trustworthy. He also sensed a hidden power in you and tried to teach you some magic. He felt a true connection and true romantic feelings for you the first time you were able to open a portal and you grinned with excitement at him. He quickly realized that he was well past the point of letting you go.
You met T’Challa during the issue with the accords. He had heard of you before since you were a member of the Avengers. You talked to him after the death of his father and even through his rage and mourning he was grateful for your kindness.
If you were on Tony’s side during Civil War: He was glad that you were on his side, and found you to be courageous and strong. Though he was preoccupied with trying to get to Bucky, he did notice how skilled you were and it heightened his attractions. After what happened, he spoke to you about how he found Zemo and you told him how glad you were that he did not let his rage and want for revenge to destroy him. When you said this he realized that he was growing much more fond of you than he thought.
If you were on Steve’s side: He was disappointed that he had to fight you, but did so anyways, hoping that you would maybe change your mind. He saw how hard you fought during the airport fight, and you managed to corner him, telling him that he was wrong about all of it and that he needed to see through his anger. He regretting fighting back and hurting you. And after it was all over, and he saw the errors of his ways. He thought you had disappeared after Steve had broken you out of prison, but you ended up coming with Steve and Bucky to Wakanda. When he saw you arrive he was grateful to see you again and noticed how his feelings changed a great deal. Even prompting him to ask you to stay in Wakanda for a while.
You were one of the main people to help Vision deal with his creation and him figuring out just who and what he was. He quickly gained a trusting bond with you and found himself wanting to be around you often. For a long time he was not sure what these “feelings” were, or if they were truly real.
One day, when he saw you particularly peaceful, reading a book in the window, he felt an unusual emotion come over him that prompted him to question himself further. He explained the feeling to Steve while he was at the compound one day and Steve said it sounded remarkably like “attraction” or even “love”. This was when Vision truly felt the most human he had ever felt. Because he knew that love or just attraction was one of the base and more important parts of living creatures. Though he was unsure of what to do after than, he was grateful to you for making him more than he was before and knew that he wanted to explore these emotions further.
Peter Parker (Aged Up):
You and Peter met in high school and were friends for a long time. You were even one of the first people to learn that he was Spider-Man. You were separated after high school when you went to a different college. Peter felt strange after this, and began to wonder if there was more to his friendship with you that he had not noticed. You still stayed in touch, but he was hurting more than he let on, as were you.
A few years later you surprised Peter at his Aunt’s house and the second he saw you he felt so extremely happy. You were both older now, adults. And he knew once and for all when he set his eyes on you again that there had been more to his feelings for you before. You caught up on what you two had been doing, besides the Spider-man’s antics that you had seen all over the news. And the whole time Peter knew that he could not let you leave him again without telling you how e felt. He would not let himself make that mistake again.
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Doctor Strange - Baby Blues & Tattoos
A/N & WC - This is the enemies-to-lovers, co-workers, 'there was only one bed' fic. As soon as I thought of it, I knew it had to be a Dr Strange thing, and I loved writing it. Also, Ben's wink in the below GIF makes my knees go weak. 8.9k.
Warnings - Swearing, too much bickering, mentions of scars, mentions of a daddy kink, smut: oral (f rec), unprotected sex, brief orgasm denial, 'Doctor' kink, tattoo kink, hickey kink, belly bulge kink. 18+.
Summary - After a tiring mission, the last thing you want to do is have to crash at a hotel, especially with the cockiest man alive. Will things change with the fact there's only one bed on such a sleepless night?
YOUR DAY HAS BEEN EXHAUSTING, there’s no denying it, and the only thing to possibly make it worse?
“C’mon, there’s a place not far away,” Stephen snaps at you, cajoling.
“Why can’t we just portal back?” you ask, uncaring of your tone, how brisk you are.
“Because we can’t. Shut up.”
And you do. He’s been grating on your nerves for this whole mission. It wasn’t like it was a bad one, you were away barely for twenty four hours, but this is Stephen. He gets exhausting after five Goddamn minutes.
Bags slung over your shoulders, you follow him down the street. This, sadly, is the type of place you don’t use your powers, save for impending doom. And you have to grant it to Stephen, he knows what he’s doing, and he’s admirable with it. The way he carries his title, so graciously aids those who need him, all with a stoic resolve. He’s a good sorcerer, that’s an irrefutable fact, and you wouldn’t be this far without him.
Still, doesn’t mean you have to like the pretentious bastard in any way.
Dusk is long gone, night time in full bloom, stars scattering around the sky like tiny sprinkles, smudges of light to guide you through the night, only a thin crescent moon available to you in the far distance. The enveloping navy of the night sky meets the dark hues of Stephen’s mundane clothes, sheltering him from view ever so slightly, walking a few paces in front of you.
It doesn’t take long for a relatively small building to come into view, small for a hotel, no bigger than the body of Bleecker Street, an orange glow bleeding out the entrance.
His shoulders rigid, his posture as straight as a rod, he stalks through the front doors and up to the clerk, slightly more human clothes back on in place of his mission attire.
“‘Scuse me, please can I book a room for tonight?” he says, each word articulated to its fullest.
“How many people, Sir?”
He casts a glance towards you, rolls those pretty blue eyes of his, and looks back. “Two.”
“What kind of room would you like, sir?”
“One with two beds, I don’t care about the cost.”
The boyish clerk nervously clears his throat and shuffles the papers on the desk before clicking around on his computer a fair amount. When he looks at you with that typically awkward glance hospitality workers give when they can’t give you what you want, you know exactly what’s coming.
“Sorry sir, we only have rooms with one bed available. I can get you one with a couch if that’s better?”
Stephen grinds his ridiculously defined jaw so aggressively, you can almost hear the bones crunching, grating together.
“You’re small, you take the couch,” he hisses, the comment directed at you before gulping down a breath, straightening his resolve, and meeting the clerk’s gaze. “That’ll do.” he says, his manner more brusque than usual.
You roll your eyes, biting back a snarky comment at his forcing you onto the sofa for the night, and stay positively quiet and zoned out as he organises the rest, handing over his card, and in turn, receiving your room keys.
He marches you down the corridor, shouldering more than his fair share of the bags, while still keeping a gloved hand on the small of your back to steer you in the right direction. He never takes his gloves off. Ever. Even in all your months at the Sanctum, whether he’s fresh out the shower or fully dressed for work, he has never once removed those gloves with you in the vicinity. Strange, like him.
He deftly swipes the key card, his arm looping around your body to do so, and pushes the door open, allowing you in first.
The room is nothing special, just your standard hotel room. White sheets grace the double bed, the main feature of the room, with a soft grey footer to match the draping curtains, comparatively light when beside the ever darkening night. Stephen’s elbow hits the light switch, a white globe light shade casting a fluttery white glow everywhere, bouncing off the tea tray atop the dark wood desk that invades and clunks up half the room. The wardrobe is just behind the door, and doesn’t actually seem to have a front to it, but there’s an ironing board you won’t use—but Stephen probably will—and some coat hangers. The walls are mostly a very pale grey, modern, but a feature appears behind the headboard, the main attraction point of the room, a bright orange that pairs nicely, if not shockingly with the sofa: a poxy thing, barely a two seater. You wouldn’t even get your torso on there comfortably. It’s a decent room, not to your taste but nice enough, and clean, your main query.
“I’ll take the first shower,” he says.
Shifting past you, he nudges your shoulder, heat temporarily shooting between your bodies, and he flings the bags carelessly onto the bed, shrugging off his jacket before shouldering past you and chucking open the bathroom door. You’re still just standing there, even after you hear the door lock shut, Stephen huff a little to himself in the mirror (that much you can imagine, he does it all the time), the clink of a belt and the water start running. You already know this is going to be a long, long night, and it hasn’t even begun.
While he’s out of the way, you begin unpacking, simply lying out your night clothes and any necessities you brought with you just in case, straightening the pillows. Then he walks out, a plain white towel hung low around his hips, his Adonis belt glistening with droplets of water all around. His body is defined, incredibly chiselled—no surprise there—but from what you can see, he’s scarred too, his tan skin worn and cut in places it shouldn’t be. Still, his hands are covered in a towel that he’s rubbing through his charcoal hair, even when he brings it down, you’re not even allowed to catch a glimpse of his bare fingers, the cloth shielding them.
“I can see that, thanks Mr Obvious.”
He offers you a saccharine smile, “That’s Dr Obvious to you, rookie.”
“Myehhh,” you mimic, rolling your eyes as you brush past him, but really, his bulk of muscle does more damage to you than him, leaving your arm throbbing, only able to clutch it and open your mouth in a silent cry of pain once the door is shut and locked behind you.
As you undress, you’re sure you hear his soft chuckles as he goes about his inane bedtime rituals. One of your own rituals is listening to music in the shower, the one thing you know drives Strange insane, so you do exactly that, putting your current favourite song on repeat as you shower.
The bathroom is nice, too, just white. All porcelain white: floor, walls, sink, with only the mirror and showerhead a glistening silver. Why does nowhere have the same character as the Sanctum? If this is the rest of the world you’ve been avoiding a while, you’re not sure if you like it.
Coming out the bathroom, you wrap your white towel taut around your body and tuck the corner in, the lump pressing into your supple skin, releasing your hair from the shower cap. Almost unwittingly you begin humming the song—instinct, you guess, an earworm, a good song with infectious lyrics and a strong tune. You’ll be over it in a week.
“Do you?” Stephen suddenly asks, appearing from around the wall.
You gasp in surprise, your reverie snapped. He’s right there next to you, his hair coiffed but still slightly damp, wearing his usual half-baggy blue pyjamas. His blue eyes snag on something, a peek of black partially obscured by the towel, but he can't be sure.
His exasperated sigh fills your brain with naught but aggravation. How can one person be so anxious and annoying?
“That song you were playing, it’s called Daddy Issues. Do you have them?”
A soft chuckle leaves your lips, tossing your hair around, running your fingers through the locks. “Doesn’t everyone?”
You don’t even bother to deadpan him for more than a split second before you’re pushing past him, your shoulder bumping his bicep again, and you’re shifting over to the desk area, where you lay out your moisturiser and hairbrush.
“Well, statistically, more than fifty percent of people do—"
“Just be quiet Stephen. Get ready for bed.”
He bares his teeth, but obliges, and within half an hour, you’re nervously slouched on opposite sides of the bed, the top light off, curtains drawn, only the bedside lamps on to offer your bodies some shadow.
“I’m not taking the couch,” you warn, “it’s bloody tiny.”
“I don’t expect you to, and this bed is bigger than I anticipated, so I suppose we can share if you stick to your side.”
You grumble, making strange whining noises to piss him off momentarily, “What do you propose, a pillow wall?”
“Yes, actually,” he says, “that sounds rather practical.”
“Why? It’s not like I’m gonna try and cuddle you or hold your hand or anything. You’re not my type anyway, God.”
“Almost, but not quite.” he snarks.
“Could you be any more conceited, Strange?”
“Yes. But, just lie down, I’m tired and can’t be arsed to hear your whining all night. No touching.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, asshat.”
You draw back your side of the duvet and slide beneath, curling your toes at the cold weight of it, your back to Stephen’s. There’s so much space between the two of you it’s bordering on ridiculous, you could fit half the other wizards in with you at this rate. You're small, but with how close he is to his edge, he has to be falling off. He’s abnormally tall, his feet are probably dangling off the end, too.
“Is this about your hands?” you whisper, barely heard over the deafening silence crashing around in both of your ears, “or your scars? If so I— I don’t mind, I’m not in any position to judge.”
“Shut. Up.” he enunciates.
“Dude, it’s okay.”
“It’s also none of your fucking business.”
Oh he’s seething. He’s fucking hilarious when he’s mad. His jaw clenches and his nostrils flare and his face goes as red as Goddamn tomato, his lips quirk to suffocate a grimace and hands close to fists he can barely control and his voice always stutters when his desperately regulated breath hitches. That’s exactly what’s happening now, you can feel the shift of the bed next to you, hear every tiny movement.
“I’m not trying to pry, just curious.”
“Well, you are prying. You know what happened to me, you know who I was and who I am, surely you have some idea what I must… look like.”
“Yeah,” you breathe, an inflection of compassion in your tone, “and I don’t give a shit. I hate you no less.”
He allows a breathy chuckle out, one of the lightest sounds you’ve ever heard from him, nothing derisive in it, no spite or teasing, just a small laugh. “Hate me all you want. I know I’m right.”
“You don’t want to see me.”
It’s so quiet a request that it's barely a whisper, simply a wistful hope, a prayer, a silent plea. His last word cracks, breaks, and his currently slightly less annoying voice trails away, broken. Even now, the least you can do is respect his privacy on it despite the fact it's the last thing you want to do.
You find the only words you can muster, curling further inwards on yourself. “Night, Stephen. Thanks for this.” you bid.
And you still into a horrible, dense silence, the darkness of the room overwhelming your senses. If you sleep a wink like this, you’ll be lucky.
You find yourself to be regrettably correct, since after what feels like a lifetime (and appears to only have been an hour, and even then, just barely) you feel the whole weight of the bed shift, followed by muffled cursing. You’re cold, incredibly uncomfortable, and the pillow is too cold, but you daren’t move it, lest you disturb the wrath of Stephen.
Fuck it, you tell yourself. You won’t lie on the ridge of a hard mattress all night just because he’s a whiny brat who never cuts you a break. Fidgeting and jolting, tossing and turning, you eventually turn over full bodily, and completely by accident, your hand falls onto more flesh, warm and callused, Stephen. Instantaneously, he recoils, his body slithering away from you, even across the masses of space. Your own breath catches, brows furrowing, shock, perhaps?
“Stephen?” you husk, your voice full of surprise. “Couldn’t sleep?”
You reach over and flick your bedside lamp on, fluffing your pillow and turning to him.
“No. Why did you do that?”
“Why did I do what, roll over in bed and accidentally brush your hands?”
“Yes.” he says, teeth gritted.
“Don’t be such a twat, what’s the big deal anyway?” you ask, a throwaway comment, but the way he gulps, his blue eyes so full of anxiety, you know well enough what it is. “Strange, I didn’t mean—”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Only, you know it does. His hands are balled up in his shirt and embedded into his body, covered by the duvet despite the convulsive movements. He’s asking for it. In one swift move, the duvet is folded back, and you’re grabbing his hands roughly by the wrists and tugging them away from him. Sitting up a little more, moving your body and crossing your legs, you yank his hands into your lap. Gnarled red scars run down each finger and down the back of both hands, puckering from stitches mars them too, and beneath the skin, when you tenderly run the pads of your fingers over his scars, the cuts, you feel metal. Screws, bolts, whatever else. Maybe even metal rods are in there, holding his bones together.
Sure, they’re not pretty, no scars are, but they aren’t as repulsive as he makes them out to be. They’re endearing, unique, and show he’s a Goddamn fighter. Maybe you’d be more inclined to work with him if he hadn’t been trying to hide from you so much.
Suddenly, he jolts away from you, away from the tender rub of your fingers on his skin, his face contorted in a perpetual wince. There’s an expectant pause, like he’s waiting for you to say something, but for once, you’re lost for words.
“I’ll sleep on the couch.” he says, wholly tugging away from you.
“Why, Stephen? Why are you being so pretentious and callous? Can’t we share a bed without it being fuckin’ weird?” you demand, hitting a fist against the pillow childishly.
He shifts his pyjama bottoms awkwardly when he catches another peek of your skin—your upper arm this time, a swirl of ink—and clambers out of bed, snatching a spare sheet from the wardrobe that he takes over to the sofa with him. No way is he gonna fit, but if he’s going to be that obtuse, you’re gonna let him.
Another hour has gone by, and having tried just about every possible position known to man on both sides of the bed, every pillow on both the head and foot of the bed, you’re still unable to sleep, simply staring at the dull white ceiling, your fingers linked and resting over your steadily rising chest. You’d think that sorcery has some perks, perhaps a spell to help you sleep, but no. There are some herbs that can go in drinks to knock you out, but naturally, they’re all at the Sanctum. You’re fucking knackered, and usually sleep so well, why is tonight any different? Does it have anything to do with the gnawing in the pit of your stomach? The anxiety of Stephen being so far away—or perhaps it's just having him in the room. Somehow, you don't know which is worse.
“Stephen,” you tentatively call out, your sound swallowed by the reverberating night. “Are you awake?”
“Yes. Why?” he replies in his typical abrupt nature.
“Just wondered. I’m cold, can you come sit?”
This time you don’t even bother to turn on the light, but merely point your finger at the wall shade and light begins to glow around you, allowing you to peer at Stephen over there. It’s a pitiful sight, really, and one he willingly inflicted on himself, but with his long legs dangling off the edge and his head at a funny angle on the arm, the sheet barely covering half of him, you know this isn’t fair. Still, doesn’t stop you from having a hearty chuckle to yourself.
“You’re so fucking uncomfortable over there and don’t try to deny it. Get your ass into bed with me. Now.”
He’s not used to you being bossy, no one is. As he so constantly reminds you, you’re just a rookie, you don’t bark orders, and only occasionally lend a snarky comment. He likes those best, no matter how much he tries to feign it.
“Can you tolerate me enough to just lie in bed with me?” you tease, hearing his footsteps padding on the carpeted floor.
“To say I ‘tolerate you’ is a vast overstatement.”
“Thanks, Doc.” you reply sardonically, rolling your eyes—playfully this time—and smiling at the fact.
He does as you say, though, and shuffles into bed beside you, actually bothering to get properly comfortable this time, settling into a relatively normal position on his back, his head turned to the side, his cheekbones glowing from definition in the shine from your light. You could cut yourself on those, sweet Mercy.
Once he’s nuzzling into his pillow, you begin to do your own fidgeting around, finding your own comfort with a heavy, warm weight beside you, one of relative solace. You don’t mean to, but you’re stretching, and just trying to find a good position, when your hand accidentally grazes…
No way, this is incredible, better than anything you could have dreamt up. You think you might even bite a hole in your tongue from biting hard enough to keep your incredulous laugh under control.
“Is this why you didn’t wanna sleep in the bed? Because you’ve got a boner?” you ask, slyly.
“Don’t talk about it.” he growls in warning.
“Why? Secret stash of porn up there in that eidetic brain of yours?”
“Could you be more oblivious?” he says under his breath.
Turning onto his side, he pushes you away, prying your arm from him.
“Myeh could you beeee more oblivious, Y/N?” you mimic, purposely whining in that tone you know he hates.
You were trying to banter, so if he wants to be a tosser about it, so fucking be it. At least he’s offering you his bodily warmth so you don’t feel so alone in such an unfamiliar place.
“It’s fine if you do have a boner. For all I care, go sort it out. Human nature, buddy.” you quip, turning on your own side, almost half way into the bed, his body within touching distance, breathing distance. “I am curious, though, why didn’t you just say so? Or wear baggier pants? Men, you’re all the same, so fuckin’ annoying. Contrary doesn’t even begin—“
You don’t have a chance to finish your arsey statement before he’s right there, his hot breath fanning your face hovering above you, his forearms on either side of your head, trapping you in.
“You think you know everything, huh? I bet you’d really love to know what got me so riled up.” he growls, his face lowering to your neck, the juncture of your shoulder, his lips barely brushing the skin there before he’s taking a deep inhale; animalistic, almost.
There’s no denying that his actions send heat flooding to your core. Frankly, you wouldn’t be surprised if a wet patch appeared in the sheet beneath you right about now. Who knew his voice could be so low? So sensual? Christ...
“You’re so fucking insolent. Maybe if you hadn’t been such a bratty bitch then I might’ve fucked you quiet two hours ago. You wanna know what made me hard? You, dancing around in your skimpy underwear and pyjamas. Every day I see you around the Sanctum, and even when you’re dressed in every layer of robe under the sun I can’t keep my eyes off you. You should see how damn hard I struggle to keep my hands to myself, even these Goddamn lumps.”
His fists clench next to your head, shifting your head on the pillow. His eyes burn sapphire. You’re not one for ‘skimpy’ clothes, but you have to admit that being the only woman in a house full of completely disinterested men has made you want to try and test the boundaries just a little, leading to your slightly smaller pyjamas and other minuscule changes in your wardrobe.
Still, his admission sends your mind into a lust-filled frenzy, your only coherent thought being to just submit to him, to kiss him, to finally know what he tastes like. For all these months he’s been watching you, his criticisms have been his manner of flirting, his hiding his own shield. As sweet as that is, there’s something very hard urgently poking at your thigh, something you should probably see to...
“Fucking hell, Stephen, just kiss me.”
After so much waiting, he really doesn’t need to be told twice, pouncing onto you, his lips meeting yours furiously, a desperate clash of tongues. Never in your life has someone kissed you this way before, with so much passion and life and unadulterated want. It makes you wonder just how long he’s wanted to do this for.
It doesn’t take long for his hands to stray, his palms skimming down your burning flesh, goose bumps rising in his wake.
“Off.” he ghosts, tugging at your pyjamas.
You begin to peel your shirt off, but Stephen grabs it by the neck and removes it before you can get any further.
“Maybe I wanted to tease you too.” you breathe, and only once you say it do you realise the truth of it.
Perhaps all this time you have been subconsciously been trying to tease him, rile him up. You’re in for it now, that much is easily detectable by the ragged breaths he begins to take, his grip on your waist increasing as his lips make a downward trail. First, he kisses gently at your neck, only growing more fervent when he reaches your pulse point where he sucks, hard, but only for a moment as he moves further down, biting your right clavicle while pinching your left breast, then switching, and grazing his lips over the swells of your boobs. You’re barely able to control yourself or your moans, desperately holding your tongue, silencing yourself and the obscenities bound to spill. Next, he goes just below your sternum, the sensitive skin there reacting to his tender assault. Until now, he’s had his thinned eyes focussed on you, silently working his way down your body.
“I can’t wait to put bruises all over that pretty, unblemished skin…” he murmurs, vibrations shooting through you like a meteor shower. You don’t realise why he’s training off until his baby blues aren’t locked on your eyes anymore. “Is that a tattoo?”
Not the time, but your cheeks begin to burn red, drawing a blush onto your skin.
“I asked you a question, is that a tattoo?” He’s more solemn this time, commanding your full attention so naturally. Unable to control your voice, you offer him a nod, your eyes wide. “When did you get this? Oh, my God.”
“B— before I came to the Sanctum. I have more, if you like them.”
“Fuck,” he blasphemes, running a hand over his face. Is he… flustered? “Where? Show me.”
Who would’ve guessed he has a thing for tattoos? It’s not like you’re covered, just the odd few: one on your hip, one in between your ribs, one on your back. You’re surprised he hasn’t noticed the few at the tops of your arms yet. You adjust your positioning and show him what he wants: he’s damn near salivating, his fingers toying with his beard as he grows impossibly harder against your leg.
“Do you have a thing for tattoos? Do you like girls with ink all over their skin?”
“Stop,” he whines, imploring, “don’t, I’ll finish too fast if you keep on.”
You cup his cheeks, turning his face towards you, and begin to pepper kisses over his long neck, grazing your teeth where he seems to be the most sensitive, chuckling into your actions.
He kisses you hotly, briefly, and resumes his prior attack. Biting and sucking, drawing the supple skin of your hip bones between his teeth, he has you clamping your screams behind your hand, writhing around beneath his hold.
“These walls are pretty thick, which means you and I can be as loud as we want.” he whispers, and continues his actions, prying your hand away with one of his, and not flinching when you begin to hold it. Tight.
“You know, you’re gonna look so much better when I mark you up, every inch of you. Already look like mine.”
You dare a glance down, and half your stomach is covered in bites already, and he’s right, it looks damn good.
“I know, please.”
He moves gradually lower, tugging on the waist of your trousers. That seems to be when the reality hits him, drawing away from you, his breathing laboured, his beard tickling your hip bones.
“We shouldn’t,” he stammers, casting his gaze away.
You find yourself gulping nervously, “I know.”
His blue orbs wantonly flit from your eyes to your lips, searching for reassurance that’s been there all along. It doesn’t last long, you knew it wouldn’t, because his lips are colliding with yours after little more than a tense moment of eye contact. Your hands grip onto his arms, corded with muscle, tensing as they hold him up. He’s so reliant on his arms, his hands trembling with the slightest movement when it’s not sorcery related. Tonight, you want to show him that he doesn’t have to struggle, but merely has to enjoy it.
Mouths fastened together, your chest presses to his as his tongue glazes along your bottom lip, then your top, delving into your mouth. His muscle is skilled, dancing with yours, but not in a tender waltz, more a hazed tango of burning passion, like he has to taste all of you before he can be content in life. In return, you can’t kiss him deeply enough either, hold him tightly enough, clinging to him with your whole being.
He tears his lips away from you, leaving a strange void in your chest once he lifts away, an emptiness where his deft mouth was licking into yours just moments before. You’re certainly not disappointed when he presses a single kiss to your navel and hooks his fingers in the waistband of your shorts, peeling them off, sliding them down your legs along with your panties.
“You look good all soaking wet.” he purrs, his eyes glued to the glistening slick coating your heat.
You revel in the fact that he can barely tear his eyes away long enough to glance at you, but once he catches sight of your lust-clouded eyes, half-lidded, expectant only for him, he can’t look away, his blue eyes enraptured with the slight drop your jaw makes as his breath fans over you. Almost animalistically, he licks his lips, then yours, tracing the shape of your vulva with the tip of his lithe muscle. Already you’re keening as he languidly works his mouth on your core. He presses a tantalising kitten lick to your clit, causing your legs to instinctively clamp around his head, your thighs trapping his ears. He still doesn’t break eye contact. How he does this, you don’t know, and don’t particularly care to find out right about now, since his eyes are so mesmerising, the different flecks and shades of blue, contrasted with hues of golden green—
Oh Mary sweet Mother of God.
How does he do that? His moustache tickles your swollen pearl as he literally eats you out, no reservations, a full meal to him. His tongue in your cavern, it’s the most beautiful sight you’ve ever beheld, his doling out of sloppy kisses while you can but watch, grasping onto his hair, threading your fingers through his dark locks, tugging for some semblance of grounding, something to keep you tethered to this realm, because this level of pleasure is unmeasured.
“I think you’re going to ruin me. Am I right?” you gasp, your words cut off when he suckles on your most sensitive spot.
“For every other man?” he purrs, straight into your core. “Absolutely.”
The vibrations are simply heavenly, sending your spare hand flying to the pillow beside you, grasping to it with all you're worth, until your fingers begin to cramp, but not once does his assault on your sensitive heat ease, his eyes smiling at you as though you’re the most beautiful thing in the planet.
You’re close, though, so close, teetering just on the edge of something incredible, something mind blowing, something astronomical. You’re simpering as he nears you closer and closer, every lavish of his tongue within your cavern, every nudge of his nose to your overly sensitive clit…
And Stephen being Stephen, that’s when he decides to pull away, crawling back up your body until he’s laying beside you, the heat welcoming and warm, the heavy weight of his arm slung around your bare waist, his breath fanning over your neck. He begins to lazily brush kisses over your neck, but it’s not enough. Frustrated would be a behemoth understatement.
“Goddamn it, Y/N,” he hums heartily, “you get under my skin like no one else.”
“Yeah?” you retort, not pondering the consequences in your haze of denial and desire, “you quite literally were just under mine, and you didn’t let me cum. Asswipe.”
Heaving a sigh, he rolls away slightly, stopping his sweet show of affections in favour of sulking
“If you’d shut up for one damn second and not insult me, I’d tell you why.”
“Why then, huh?” you square up to him.
The last thing you expect is to be kissed, his scarred hand weaving its way into your hair, pushing your head closer to his. You can feel the heat emanating from his cheeks, from his chest. Who knew heaven would be as hot as hell?
“Because I want the first time I make you come to be around my cock, darling. Okay?” he growls.
Wow. That’s one argument you can get behind, but two can play at his game, so you flutter your lashes and play coy, your most innocent doe-eyes joining your pretty, swollen lips that curl up into the sweetest smile you can manage.
“Fuck me,” he groans, barely audible.
In one movement, you have him pinned beneath you, hands on either side of his head while he’s listless between your legs, cerulean irises fixated on your every perceptible move.
“Only if you ask nicely, Doctor.”
His eyes fly shut, lids squeezed together, his head tossed back into the pillow. That’s when you get to work on his shirt. You grasp the hem with nimble fingers, slowly tugging it up the tanned skin of his torso. He occasionally walks around with just a towel on, like today, but you barely glimpse him before he’s disappearing, and even then he’s moving deftly, muscles contracting and water droplets glistening on the panes of his chest, so you're not entirely sure what you’ll find. You tug it up to his collar bones, and he does the rest, since you can’t help but run your hands all over him. Every inch of flesh you can reach. His body quite frankly ripples, his muscles incredible, and his scars matter no more or no less than ever, because he’s just Stephen and you’re just you, and this is just a moment you’ve caught yourselves in. His skin is burning, begging to be ravished the way he did yours, but you daren’t mess up such a masterpiece.
In an intoxicating kiss, you catch his bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling gently as you tug on it, your smirk unwavering yet your eyes as round as saucers.
“You’re heaven.” you whisper.
“You taste like it.”
The blush that dusts your cheeks is undeniable, sprinkling raging droplets of fire that reach the tips of your ears.
You sigh breezily, moving up his hips a little further, thinking aloud at your position, his body all yours, your bare heat hovering his clothed member, rock hard against your bum. “I’ve yearned for this for so long.”
“What, to shag me?”
“No, to finally have you quiet and under my control.”
“I’ve always been under your control,” he tells you earnestly, raising a hand to brush errant locks of hair away from your face, his rough fingers touching your cheek. You nestle into his grip. “Say the word, I’m yours.”
“The magic word?”
“Agamotto?” you question bashfully, curling your hair behind your ear.
He splutters a laugh, jolts his body up to meet yours, and kisses you, a searing embrace, his tongue working it’s way back into his mouth. You can still taste yourself on him. Beneath you, however, his length is twitching, begging to be touched.
You stand on your knees, and crawl back down his body, settling yourself on his beefy lower thighs that clench so delectably, setting friction onto your own throbbing core. You unravel the string at the waist, and fumble to get the soft cotton trousers off him, but seem to forget that, well, you’re hindering your own access. He nudges his legs and pelvis up, shucking the material over his bum. The action grazes over your slit in such a way that makes your breath hitch, the mix of the material of his pyjamas, the hair on his leg, and his tensing muscles creating the perfect cocktail of arousal within you, clouding your cognitive processes. He kicks them off, and draws you further up his legs, his member standing proud, brushing against your navel.
Something strange and new stirs deep within you at the sight, a primal need awakened. Sex has never been… this way for you before, this pleasurable, this fun. And as much as you hate to admit it, that’s because of Stephen and his God-like appendage that you’re not even sure will fit.
“Baby, you’re drooling,” he coos in a condescending tone, something that makes you impossibly wetter, “you gonna ride me?”
“Want your hands on me, though,” you softly admit, wrapping your hands over his, moving them to the dip of your waist. Instantly, they take a bruising settle there, but the pinch is so delectable.
Grasping him in your hands is quite the feat, but nonetheless you try, spitting on your palms to give yourself ample slick as you jerk him a couple of times, watching intently how the skin pulls around his member, your brows furrowed at such a simple yet such a beautiful sight. As much as you hate to cede it, he has a fucking incredible dick. He’s allowed to be as cocky as he is.
“If you keep on…”
You know he means for it to be a threat but he sounds so blissed out, his voice gruff and hitting you right at the pit of your belly. He has a point, though, with your fingertips gingerly running up the vein on the underside, your nails grazing tantalisingly over his balls. His slit is already leaking, a bead of pearly-white precum there. He won’t last. Eh, maybe he doesn’t have to be so cocky if such a featherlight touch can drive him to the edge.
His eyes draw yours in and keep their focus as you rise onto your knees and fidget a little closer, your knees scratching on the white sheets. Your brain grows foggy, like the night outside as you tease the head of his dick against your wetness before you gradually lower yourself down.
Birds crow outside, owls cresting their night time lullaby as he enters you, the most delightful harmony. Flickers of twinkling stars can be seen in your periphery through the slit in the plain curtains.
You hiss, but the slight pain of him stretching you simply spurs you further onto him, desperate to engulf him all. Your bum hits his thighs, and that’s when you realise, your breathing shallowed, that he’s balls deep within you.
This is actually happening.
“Fuck,” he mutters letting out the most aching groan yet, throwing his head back into the pillow once more and letting his dark hair flop of its own accord, his hands tangling their way into your hair to pull you down to him.
Your actions start slowly, a small rocking to your hips as you get used to his sheer size filling you to the brim, even the slightest movement causing your walks to tense around the ridges of his dick, rubbing within you so detectably. His breathing increases with every rock, his eager pants and soft pleas filling the air as you begin to speed up, silenced by your lips.
His moans increase once you start to raise yourself up, only to grind back down with purpose. You’re sure your own moans and whimpers are deafening, too. Stephen simply doesn’t know what to do, where to look. His lips attack your neck, moaning into it as he starts to drive himself further and further into your pussy, his hips bucking to meet your movements.
“Stephen,” you squeak as he grazes something special, followed by a shout of, “Fuck!” though that’s more to the stimulation to the precious spot on your neck he seems to be so wantonly attacking, bruising you.
“Tell me—” he orders, pausing to pant between kisses and his frantic movements beneath you, seeking the best position, “what you like.”
“This— fuck just keep doing that!”
His hands on your waist keep guiding your movements, the rotations of your hips, the rise and fall of your body unencumbered, unbound, free to drive him to insanity with your sensuality in this moment.
“Think you can handle that much?” he taunts.
“Just fuck me, Stephen, no restraints, just you.”
“Are you sure that’s what you want? I could really hurt you.”
“I don’t care. I need you.” you grit out, whining at the slight still.
You thank whatever deity there is that it’s only very brief before his pace begins to pick up again, your body so malleable despite your being on top. And frankly, you can’t stop the screams that erupt from somewhere deep in your throat, followed by a steady stream of whimpers, your hands curling into his pecs to keep you upright.
“If you keep making those sounds, I’m not going to be able to stop myself.”
“What if I don’t want you to?”
“I don’t care what you want, I’m in charge.”
“Myeh I’m in charge, I’m Doctor Strange, ooooo look at me.” you mimic, challenging him, and his movements stall.
“You’d better watch your fucking mouth.” he spits.
The cock of your head is simply devilish, defiant in every way possible, power surging within your veins as you say, “Or what?”
Regret is instantaneous. You’re not sure why you thought that, if you were on top you’d have the power, because you certainly don't. His hands grasp your hips bruisingly hard, lifting you up before literally impaling you on his dick. His pace soon after is punishing, controlling your every movement so you can barely breathe or see straight, just a rag doll for him to throw about. He reaches new depths you’ve never even found yourself before, all while keeping his tip grazing your g-spot on every stroke, his pelvis meeting your clit on every hit. Your jaw hangs open, and you can’t even help it, merely gripping onto Stephen you’re not sure where for dear life. That’s the ‘or what’.
He’s quite literally ravishing you in a way no one has before. You’re fucking mewling before you can help it. His sudden surge of dominant energy causes you to moan headily, putty within his control. With each upward thrust of his, your hips roll in ways you never knew they could before, offering you new depths of pleasure, rolling more arousal from your core.
‘Rough’ was never a word you’d have used to describe the astute, precautious Dr Stephen Strange before, but with the sheer strings of profanity leaving his perfect, plump lips as he takes you wholly, it’s certainly up there with adjectives to describe the supreme sorcerer.
“Fucking hell you’re so good,” he praises, “shit— squeezing me so well.”
“Stephen…” you plead. You can’t care that you’re begging, not with the wash of pleasure trickling down your spine, a building climax within the pit of your stomach, ready to split at any second.
You lean forwards daringly, connecting your lips in a clash of teeth and tongues, a tango of passion, desire, sheer unadulterated need
“Want your hands on me,” you moan, whine, beg. Your words come out in broken fragments in between slathering kisses, your body bouncing.
“No you don’t. I promise you don’t.” he refutes, cut off by a deep groan.
He doesn’t stop pounding into you, your one hand moving to cling around the back of his neck, your other with your nails digging into his flesh, grazing over his nipples; anything to keep you half steady.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do. I like your hands.”
“I don’t— fucking hell.”
“And I don’t care. Please touch me, just run your fingers over me, palm at my tits, anything, I don’t care. I just need your hands on me.” Tears begin to well in your eyes before you can help it, a feeble squeak when his thick tip drives into that spongy spot deep within that has your toes curling, his vein squeezed by the slight ridges within you. “Please.”
He sighs, cut off by a growl, holding his hands out before him, removing them from their hold on your waist. “These things?”
“Yes!” you shout in response, both to the stimulation on your clit from his pelvis and his rhetorical question. “Those ‘things’ that wield so much power. Such ability for pleasure. Doctor.”
That seems to be what does it, a gasping groan leaving him, taking incentive. His scarred finger begins to brush up your stomach, the dip of your hips, pinching your tattoos. His palms splay over your boobs kneading the flesh, eyes as wide as saucers, mesmerised by the way they bounce in his hand, your peaked buds caught under the rough pads of his thumbs. He runs his hands across your whole body, your back, shoulders, arms, savouring every inch of flesh he can reach as your back arches with waves of pleasure above him, thrusting your chest further out as your head lulls backwards and your mouth falls open in a silent ‘o’. When he seems satisfied enough, they travel to your ass, squeezing your cheeks, his hold bruising.
He’s enthralled by every movement you make, his blue eyes staring at you, fixed so intently, the intensity sparking something to life in your belly. You draw your lip between your teeth before leaning down to kiss him, his mouth devouring yours hotly, his lips almost burning on yours, chapped skin massaging yours. While he has you there, his grip on your ass increases, and he begins to go harsher.
“Baby,” you hiss before you can help it.
Skin slaps against skin, you’re just there for him, feeling every jolt of his body so thoroughly beneath you. He swallows your moans, and you swallow his, before detaching and moving your lips to his jaw instead, kissing along the sharp bone gently. He’s fucking you so hard, so meaningfully, you’re going to be aching for days.
“Look at me,” he demands, “look.”
You do, but you’re in such a haze that you only manage to actually see into the crystal orbs once he grasps your skin between his scarred fingers, one of which you press your lips to, swirling the tip of your tongue around the digit.
“No, no darling, I need my hand for this.”
Doe-eyed, you let his finger go with a pop, but follow his hand where it goes, trailing down to your lower stomach. His fingers tentatively press over a blossoming bulge there, one that grows every time you sink down onto him, and then his palm presses down, causing you to scream a little, a pleasurable sort of pain.
“You feel that?” you nod. “That’s where I am, so deep inside you.”
The stream of expletives you moan is utterly unholy, in need of censorship. Never before have you imagined this, anyone being so deep inside they’re bulging against your belly…
“Nobody does it like you do.” you whine, bouncing up and down on him at an inhuman speed, nearing climax more and more, still holding back despite it all, despite the pressure building right where his tip grazes.
“I taste you on my tongue. Still,” he confesses, licking into your mouth filthily so you can taste it too.
“Stephen, I’m gonna—” you can’t finish your sentence, as you’re finishing in other ways, the pressure on your g-spot and the brush on your clit and the intense penetration too much for you to handle amongst his piercing blue stare.
You can’t hold the inevitable tide back anymore, clamping and clenching around him, causing him to emit a guttural, feral moan, clamping his teeth down on your shoulder, his cry resonating through your entire being. It’s a pleasurable ache, but a mark you’ll struggle to hide. This spurs you on further, your entire body pulsing, limbless. You’re whimpering amidst your screams of pleasure, cries so pornographic they startle you. That’s when the world slows, and you feel his thumb pressing harshly into your clit, his other hand pinching your nipple, tweaking it fervently.
The hot white wash of euphoria sends you to heaven and shooting through the stars in a split second elongated by the prolonged, unceasing pressure in your bundle of nerves, keeping you in uncontrollable bliss for you’re not sure how long. Your entire body is electrified, stars dancing on your skin like droplets of Elysian sun, shocking your nerves into a tingling sensation, heavy limbs filled with ecstasy filled blood. The world around you faded long ago, replaced by his beautiful hands and his kiss intoxicating you, explosions of delightful rapture filling your earthly being. In all fairness, you wouldn’t be surprised if, when you opened your eyes, you were in your astral form, on absolute cloud nine, or in another realm entirely. Maybe you’re simply in paradise, your sorcery skills having transported you there of their own volition.
Somewhere in your elation, Stephen comes too, filling you up entirely, warm stickiness painting your inner walls and beginning to trickle out, down your thighs and onto his, melding the two of you together further. Was his orgasm as incredible as yours? Like a hundred put together? Stars plucked from the sky and morphed into a single climax just for the pair of you? Because if he shared it, there’s no way you’re not doing this again, that much you can bank on.
It takes a while for you to come around enough to flutter your eyes open, only to find your chest almost pressed fully against Stephen’s, his arms around you entirely, your harsh breathing in sync. A veil of sweat gleans on your skin, gathering between your breasts, moving up and down hastily with your ragged breaths. He’s covered in a similar sheen, his abs and forehead, the ripples of his biceps as you hold him, feebly pushing yourself half upright.
The last thing you expect while basking in the afterglow, desperate to just catch your breath is for him to lick a blood stripe from the tattoo at the side of your ribs, around the underside off your one boob, and to then suckle tiredly on the rune nestled between your tits, but apparently...
“What’s that for?”
“Love your tattoos. So sexy.”
That’s something you’re never gonna let him forget, and there’s no doubt in your mind that he’s also going to beg for you to get more. You find yourself giggling, the sweet bubbling of it in your throat. It comes out as an airy sound, endearing Stephen.
“Oh my God, you’re so much better than the last person I was with.” you sigh, flopping down next to him.
“And you, bloody hell.”
“We should do this again.”
“We definitely should.”
His hand flies out to rest on your stomach, linking your fingers with his, watching you conspicuously from the corner of his eye.
“Hey, you okay?” he asks, concern betrayed in his tone and the crinkle of his nose.
“Yeah, just might be a bit sore.”
He shrugs his shoulders softly, and you chuckle, “You told me to give it all I’ve got. I think I’m rather spent now, though.”
“So spent. God, is this what overstimulation feels like? How can something be so nice and so achy all at once?”
“That’s how my cock feels, Y/N. You milked me for all I’m worth.”
“Don’t be so crude!”
“I’ll be what I like, baby, and right now I’m going to be bossy. Go to the restroom, I’ll be waiting when you come out.” A mischievous grin creeps its way onto his face, watching you struggle as he sneers, “try to walk in a straight line, sweetheart.”
You offer him your middle finger as you stagger to your feet, clutching onto every piece of furniture along the way. It’s strange to be so naked around him, nothing to shield you from his stare that follows you, right from the bed until you disappear into the bathroom. While there, you glance at your dishevelled state in the mirror. Small hickeys litter your skin, hand prints lying lightly, but the most noticeable things are the signs of affection around your tattoos. Bite marks, finger prints, blossoming bruises. He’s an absolute scamp. You take the opportunity to run a brush through your hair and tap some balm onto your lips.
Your steps are a little more shy on the scratchy, grey carpet as you step out again, taking strides as wide as you can before all but throwing yourself onto your side of the bed.
“Here,” he says, smiling at you in that sweet, closed-mouth way he does, the apples of his cheeks glowing.
In his outstretched hand is his pyjama shirt, creased from your clutching to it. You take it, the soft material limp in your hands, but it simply radiates ‘Stephen.’ You tug it on over your head, unfazed when it hits your mid thigh.
“Looks good on you. Come here.”
You don’t mind his commands for once, and happily shuffle in beside him, instantly curling into his side. Heat radiates from his body, and only when you sling your one leg over his thigh do you realise he’s put his pyjamas back on, the bottoms at least. His arm winds around your shoulder, and perhaps in a feat of confidence, he starts to brush his forefinger up and down the skin of your arm, rising goose bumps in its wake. You could just stay this way forever.
A strange thought brews in the back of your mind, and you almost can’t help but to blurt it out, “Did you want me to call you 'Daddy?' Is that why you asked about the song earlier?”
A subdued nature overtakes him, his voice becoming shy as he murmurs, “Maybe. I like ‘Doctor’ too.”
You roll closer to him, wrapping an arm around his torso.
“Maybe next time,” you tease courageously, kissing his neck softly. “I can’t wait to be on my knees for you later.”
“Tomorrow, baby, I’m tired enough to sleep at last.”
It really is an ‘at last’ type situation, and definitely more than three hours since you arrived at this place with the intention of crashing straight away. Well, it was your intention. His? You’re not entirely sure, an inkling nagging at the back of your mind. Not that you particularly care after the mind blowing shag, but...
“We could’ve portalled back, couldn’t we?” Nervously, he nods. “So this was a ploy to get me to shag you?” He nods again, blue eyes glittering, and you simply scoff at him, holding him closer under the duvet. “Cheeky little shit, Doctor.”
His low laugh rumbles through your whole being, sending more heat flooding through you. “But then again, maybe it’s best if we don’t go home. What’ll they say about us?”
“They’ll congratulate me for finally growing the balls to fuck you.” he deadpans, and you kiss his jawline once more, snorting a little laugh.
You reach out to switch the light off and instantly embed yourself in his comfort again, revelling in your synced breathing and the gentle rise of his chest against your cheek, the stolen whispers and the gentle way he kisses your hairline, so sweet in contrast to his earlier dominance.
Sleep is, rightfully, dragging you both under, your eyelids heavy at last. All you feel is him, the steady thrum of his heart, the tender run of his scarred fingers up and down your arm and spine, sparks shooting through you. Your sleepy state, however, also lowers your already dangerously thin inhibitions, and that’s why you can’t stop yourself saying—before you succumb—your most peculiar thought from the whole night, his half lidded startling baby blues trained on the barely perceptible movement of your lips.
“Hey, recon we could have sex in our astral forms?”
205 notes · View notes
Pairing: Loki x Emy Nightstar (OC)
OC Summary: Emy is the newest Avenger. She specializes in Magic and close range attacks/ weapons. Her heritage is unknown to her as she was left at an orphanage door step when she was a young girl with only the memory of her name. She goes by her nickname Emy but has never told anyone her full name as its a reminder of her being abandoned. Emy can see through any illusion and Magic no matter how powerful they are or how strong the magic is and is unaware of this. Her powers include Telekinesis, ￼Elemental Control, True Sight (as stated above) Enhanced healing and Shifting (she wont discover this till much later in the story). She loves to read, listen to music, play violin, sing, and draw.
Story Info: Takes place after infinity wars. Tony and Natasha are alive Steven comes back from the future after giving back the infinity stones. Vision is alive and living with Wanda in the tower. Thor and Loki live in the tower with the rest of the Avengers and for the sake of the story Himedall is alive and living with the rest of the Asgardians on earth in New Asgard (you will find out why later)
One last thing: Please do not repost my work on any other site or social media, however reblogging on here is fine. I work hard on all of my fanfics and it’s disappointing when people take my work as their own. I am the creater of all my OCs such as Sora Nightstar, Emy Nightstar, and Lithium Nightstar. My inbox is open for any and all requests as i am a multi fandom writer. Let me know how you like the story and i will do my best to answer any and all questions. As always i encourage any and all feedback as it helps with my writing. I hope you all like it!
They say that your parents are there to teach you the rules of the world, but what happens when you have no parents? Who will teach you then? The world is cruel but people are crueler. Ive learned this first hand when the person i trusted most in this world left me on the door step of the St. Trinity’s Orphanage. I was 9 when my mother told me she didn’t want me anymore and i guess I couldn’t really blame her. I mean who could love someone who couldn’t control the powers that grew with each passing year. Someone who started fires out of thin air when they had nightmares, conjured whirlwinds when startled, unfurled earthquakes when angered, spring forth rain showers when sad, and levitate objects when riddled with anxiety. I will never forget that day for its seared into my mind like its own person brand echoing with every beat of my heart. A monster thats what she called me, her own flesh and blood was a monster in her eyes, and i could see the relief when she ran from the solid oak door finally rid of the burden she had to put up with throughout the years. An abomination she cried as she reached the cobblestone sidewalk eager to be rid of me and by the pace she was going at i could tell she had more spring in her step than on the walk over from the bus we exited from. Unnatural she bellowed as she disappeared around the corner a ghost of a smile springing from her lips as she disappeared. These where the last words i would ever hear from my mother, if thats what you would call her.
Tonight was just like any other. Crisp cold air submerged the city in a blanket of dark and silence while it settled into your bones. I never minded the cold in fact I welcomed it, it reminded me of the cabin i found one year after running away from one of the many abusive foster homes i was forced to stay with. I’ll admit it was one of the times I was able to avoid the social workers for longer than a week and the happiest I had ever been in my life up until i was captured by Hydra. When I had a flair up with my powers, which usually ended up being fire, i would immediately get sent back to St. Trinity’s but this time i ran before they had the chance to toss me aside. The staff there used to place bets on how long i would stay with a family, they would joke saying i was cursed or jinxed but i knew the truth, no one wanted me. Once the parents found out about my abilities I was sent packing. I was labeled as a flight risk and a danger to others which only deepened my anti socialism.
Walking through the streets of New York i pull my dark purple jacket on and my dark brown hair in a pony tail as I get closer to my destination. Because i don’t feel the effects of the cold weather Tony, being such the dad figure he is, has made it his priority to make sure i still wear one just incase so here i was walking home in black ripped up jeans, a black v neck T-shirt, black and purple checkered vans and a light weight dark purple jacket. With my headphones in my ears and “I like it heavy” by Halestorm blasting I make my way to the place i call home, Stark Tower. Walking through the front doors i make my way past the receptionist who always greets me with a bright smile. As I walk towards the elevator I give her a small smile back and a head nod. After entering the elevator and pressing the button for the penthouse I start to reflect on how i got here.
By the time i was 15 Hydra found me in that cabin and took me away. I went from hopping from family to family to being used as a science experiment, constantly being poked and prodded just so they could get a reaction out of me. As a child my powers where very unstable mostly flaring up with my emotions, its no wonder that Hydra caught wind of me its not like i was hiding it very well or more so that i couldn’t hide it. They tried to wipe my memory to gain control of me “a blank slate” is what they wanted, but for some reason, they failed as I wasn’t susceptible to their conditioning methods no matter how much time i spent in the chair. However, I could tell they were scared of me I could see it in their eyes. This didn’t last long though as they used what they called their perfect weapon code name Winter Soldier to beat me into submission. After that first meeting that left me with a broken arm and a fractured ankle i started to obey, since then Ive met the Soldier a couple of times but if he remembers me he dosent let on and I dont blame him, he has been in that chair so many times Im genuinely surprised he can even remember how to walk. He is stronger than the others as most of the other test subjects had turned to vegetables after the 4th mind wipe, he was on his 10th the last time i saw him with Hydra.
Another test was done on me and this one was different. They used a teseract? If thats what they called it I can’t be sure nor did I care all I could feel was pain like as if someone injected lava in my veins. After they injected me I started screaming after a while I couldn’t even hear myself anymore, my throat was so sore and horse from the constant roar of my agony I just wanted it to end. How long was I out for? Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Days? Years? They didn’t keep clocks there or at least not in the dungeon like cell they had me in. When the fire faded i was left with this numbness and after further tests I realized that I was immune to fire. I can literally stick my hand in fire and i will be left untouched and unscorched. They did the same test with freezing temperatures to see if they could subdue me at least in some way. I must have been out longer than just a couple of days as during the tests i didn’t recognize any of the Doctors. In that moment I realized something, if they were trying to contain me then something must have happened to the soldier. It was time to plan my escape.
Back in my cell i could hear footsteps approaching me and then stop short. One of the scientists frantically trying to talk some sense into someone just out of my line of sight. “She is immune to anything we throw at her sir. We have done every test we could there is nothing left for us to do.” One of the goons in a lab coat stated to what i assumed is a higher up. “Bolden If her powers keep growing at the rate they are it could be days in which she will be unstoppable and with the soldier gone we dont have anything that can keep her in line. She broke Mandy and Rays arms the last time we tested her. She is getting too strong.” Brining a hand up to his chin the higher up Bolden stepped out of the shadows and looked at me with deep interest before he turned to looked at the man and scoffed. As he walked away i felt a cold chill ran down my back as I anticipated what was to become of me; I knew it was nothing good i had already broken their rules. His next words only confirmed what I feared. “ Its simple. Break her spirit or kill her Doctor. And when i say break her i mean in anyway means necessary.” His sadistic laugh is the last thing i remember before everything went black.
Its been 2 years since i have escaped and now I’m living in the avengers tower. I don’t remember what happened after that night in my cell its all a blur of red, screams, and gunshots. When i woke up next i was in a 6ft crater where I was being held captive without a scratch on me. Trees were uprooted and fallen over as if a bomb went off. Luckily the Avengers showed up not long after me waking up and took me to their base where i met Directer Fury. With his permission and 24/7 surveillance provided by Tony Stark via FRIDAY and training sessions to get my powers under control i was allowed to join the Avengers and fight for good. Little did i know that by agreeing to this I would end up in the path of a certain God or Gods who were also taking residence at the tower.
With the sound of a *ding* the elevator shook me out of my mind and back to the present. As i exited the elevator I pulled my head phones out of my ears and was instantly met with the sound of Tony losing his mind. “Where did she go? She knows she can’t be out this late. She could be taken again! Its 5 minutes past her curfew!” Rolling my eyes I roll my headphones up and shove them in my pocket and round the corner. “Tony it takes 5 minutes to get from the lobby to the penthouse calm down. I bet she will walk through that door anytime now.” Came the sweet voice of reason of none other than Pepper Potts. “I’m Home.” I said in a deadpan voice as i walked by the couple only for Tony to stand up and intercept me by placing a hand on my upper arm. “Where did you go and why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?” I looked at him and raised an eyebrow pushing his hand off me. “Tony its Wednesday. I have training with Strange on Wednesdays and I had Friday alert you as I was leaving but you were in the lab with Bruce.” Not sure what to say next Tony mumbled a small apology. “Sorry I was just worried about you. I know you are grown enough to make your own choices as you are 25 but I just want to make sure you are safe. How was the training with The Wizard?” Sighing and shaking my head just wanting to go the library and read I decided to just let it go. “Strange is a hard ass that much you already know. It wasnt bad actually I think I’m warming up to him. I didn’t spontaneously throw him to the wall when he snuck up behind me as i was going over the ancient texts so i call that improvement.” I said sheepishly while side stepping around him. “I’m gonna go to the library now and grab some light reading before bed you guys have a good night.” With out waiting for a response I quickly made my way towards my new destination only to have Tony saying something about guests in the house but I ignored him.
Pushing open the library door I make my way to the poetry section to grab my usual copy of Edgar Allen Poe that I read before bed. As my had reached for the spot i knew i put the book in i find that its not there. “Wait what? Where is my book? I know I put it back here before I left for training so where did it go?” Frustrated I stomp back over to the entrance and rip open the door ready to go on a murder spree while shouting down the hallway. “CLINT! You better give me back my night time book or I’m breaking all your arrows again! No one reads in this tower but me! How stupid do you think I am!?” Straining my ears I listen for any type of movement but was met with dead silence. After a minute I finally hear movement through the vents coming from the west part of the tower and I take off sprinting. Sliding around a corner I barely miss colliding with Steve and Bucky who look like they were on their way back from a mission. Offering a quick apology before I continue my pursuit I hear Steve yell “Hey! No running in the tower!” Not faltering in my hot pursuit of the Hawk thief I continue to zip through the tower ignoring the Captains words until i was almost to the vent that lead to the 2 level family room. Using the railing for the steps leading down to the family area to give me more height i jumped as close to the vent as possible and conjured my signature Scythe to slice through it while twisting in the air kicking the vent free and off its track. A shocked and terrified scream resonates from the vent as the culprit falls to the ground with a thud and a grunt. I landed in a crouched position and slowly straightened to my full hight. “What the hell Emy?! When did you learn to do that?!” Clint yells as he sits up rubbing his left shoulder that he landed on. I started stalking towards him with the blade of my scythe scrapping across the ground as i went while giving him a death glare. “Give me back my book Barton.” At the mention of his last name his head snapped up to me fear replacing the pain from his fall. “Oh shit last name not good.” Scrambling up on his feet he turns and runs towards the common room that connects to the elevator with me hot on his tail and my scythe trailing behind me in my right hand.
“Shit shit shit shit shit shit SHIT!!” He yells as he makes it fully to the room only to fling forward as i jump and kick his back tired of all the running. Twirling my weapon around I place it at his neck sneering at him. “I will not ask you again.” I said placing pressure on his neck with my blade. Sensing a fast moving object coming from my left from the kitchen I move my head back 3 inches as what looked like a hammer flew by me embedding itself in the wall. Turning my head slowly in the direction of the flying object, I confirmed it was indeed a hammer that was thrown at me. Irritation flared through me as i released Clint from the end of my scythe and turned fully to the kitchen to face my attacker. There stood 2 men that i did not recognize, one tall oak of a man with blond short hair, blue eyes and tan skin in blue jeans, a red T-shirt ,and grey jacket. the other shorter man made me stare at him and faultier for a second as he was so different from anyone i have ever seen, dark blue skin covered his entire body with darker almost black symbols and piercing red eyes, long black hair with black jeans, a green dress shirt and black jacket. Tearing my gaze away from his own curious one i looked between both men before i clenched my jaw letting my irritation settle back in. “Which one of you threw that hammer.” I said venom dripping with every word. “Whoa its ok Emy thats just Thor and Loki they are the asgardian Gods that live here in the tower part time when they are not in Norway.” Clint said standing up quickly. Not moving from my position i narrowed my eyes and flicked them over in Clint’s direction. The ground started to shake as my irritation and annoyance grew to anger remembering what i was doing before being interrupted by the Gods. Throwing his hands up in surrender he then quickly reached into his back pocket and retrieved my book. “Ok ok dont blow a fuse Em.” He said while tossing me my possession stopping me from causing an earthquake. Catching it in the air with my left had I inspected the book to make sure it wasn’t damaged before I let go of my scythe, with a wave of my hand it disappeared back to the pocket dimension I keep it in then looked back at Clint as the tremors stopped. “Touch my things again and i will be wearing your guts like my mom’s pashmina.” I said to the thief before walking out of the room and disappeared down the hallway not giving the Gods a second glance. As I entered my room i could hear a silky voice ring out from the kitchen. “Well isnt she interesting.”
Part 2 coming soon
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