#stephen strange x reader
Stephen: Okay, we need to light five black candles at midnight in a salt circle with black crystals and say this incantation and maybe the spirit will leave.
Wanda, banging pots and pans: GET OUT OF MY HOUSE YOU UNDEAD MOTHERFUCKER!
Y/N: Two types of sorcerer's.
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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.
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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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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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masterpost ☀️ main masterlist ☀️ taglist
Star is getting better, Sam is getting a friend, Stephen is a Sad White Boy™. A layover chapter. I'm not very happy with how this turned out but hey, it's an update and its still pandemi-lovato outside, we gotta be gentle on ourselves. PA turned out to be way more serious than I planned it to be anyways and I think that's very yeehaw of me to expand my writing from the usual almost-crackfics that I write. Love you all 3000.
Days stretched like a piece of chewed up gum, bleeding into one another at a snail's pace, one dull grey NYC afternoon after the other. The hospital wing I was forced to camp out in Tony's tower was top notch but everything, starting from the constant beeping to the sharp, chemical smells, irritated me, and what little strength I had to communicate was mostly spent on listening to Sam's tall tales.
Odette had stopped by shortly after the first wave of weakness had set in; no, I didn't dramatically faint or suddenly develop third stage cancer, I simply turned into a near-catatonic vegetable, devoid of any emotion or will to exist. My bones were like Jell-o, my thoughts - sluggish, sparse clouds that rarely swam in the grey plains of my overtired mind.
My boss was fussing over me for hours, I heard faint echoes of her and Stephen's argumentative conversations before she flipped out and shut the door to my hospital room, strong aromas of incense and smoke briefly overshadowing the bleach and plastic stench every hospital seemed to have. I
I became mostly coherent after her ministrations; enough to see the dark circles under her eyes and the ghastly tone of her skin. More often than not, I couldn't even properly focus my vision, things like using the bathroom and eating three times a day were the worst chores I'd ever had to do.
My body was trying to convince me to wither away, to simply allow the vessel for my spirit to become one with the Earth once more. I had no energy to process what had happened on the foreign planet; when I slept, I didn't dream, I didn't have nightmares, time just flowed like a fast, untamed river, my weary body drifting along the calmer streams of the shoreline and occasionally bumping into a stone of daily routine.
My stubbornness, however, was an inherent part of me. I had considered, many times, simply giving up; the voices in my head whispered at me their poisonous ideas. It would be so easy, to fall asleep and never wake up. They baited me with the promises of afterlife, of golden halls and spaces full of light and warmth.
Sam had started spending a lot of time at my bedside absolutely unprompted; sometimes, he'd hold my hand, gentle, tender fingers drawing senseless squiggles on the inside of my palm. Faint echoes of his aura told me he was worried for me, but also grateful for what I did for Stephen and angry at someone. I tried not to think about the last part: I could sense their pity and their unease every time one of his teammates stopped by my hospital room.
A healthy-looking young woman spending most of her days blankly staring at the wall wasn't a picture-postcard view. Sam wasn't bothered by it in the slightest, and when I finally clawed my way out of the dredges to be able to answer questions with a simple 'yes' or 'no', he promptly lit up, speaking to me in a happy tone that almost wasn't forced.
Tony stopped by, too, usually late in the evening, when he thought I and everyone else was asleep. He sat next to me, his intelligent brown eyes fixed on my face for twenty, thirty minutes at a time before he'd stroke my hair or run a hot, calloused palm over my arm, and then took his leave, slow, shuffling footsteps quietly receding into the hallways. I really didn't know what to think about Tony, he had always been quite quirky, but his gestures were... Nice.
Stephen... Him, his actions, I understood the least. He had argued with Tony, argued with Odette and I was sure I heard him and the Black Widow scream at each other during lunch time. Sometimes I thought I heard his voice, at night, the darkness behind my eyelids suddenly bursting with golden sparks and green bokeh but when I finally mustered up the strength to open my eyes, the empty, white walls were all that greeted me.
Stephen never stopped by, I rarely heard his voice outside of my room and almost always it was one bickering or another, mostly with Sam muttering a few choice words as he noisily sat down on the chair next to me. As much as I hated to admit it, it bothered me. Near-death experiences tended to leave a strong imprint on the human mind and whether Stephen liked it or not, we were connected for life.
"Then Steve, the dumbass, just jumps out of the plane. No chute, no warning," Sam's voice, drifting between fond and annoyed, snapped me out of my stupor. "Robot-brain curses, yells at his boyfriend like he can hear him and just... Does the same fucking thing," the exasperation made a tiny spark of mirth settle in me. I flexed my fingers despite the dull ache, gripping Sam's fingers in my palm. I didn't need to see him to know he immediately perked up. "Meanwhile I'm standing there with my wings, trying to figure out where in life did I take the wrong turn to end up with these two idiots."
"You should get them," I swallowed, my throat dry, my vocal cords tense from the lack of use. "One of those... Backpack leashes," the words were a battle to get out, it was a fight with a brick wall to force my brain to string sounds into a sentence, but I persisted.
"Should I say 'welcome back'?" Sam's optimism is cautious.
"Gettin' there," I forced my eyes to meet his, to see the life bustling in him. To feel alive, even by proxy.
"I should get Strange here, he's been running himself ragged these days, tryin' to figure out how to bring you back," Sam's free hand scrambled for his cell as I struggled to raise my eyebrows. "Yeah, yeah, I was as surprised as you were, Tony barely gets the wizard to sleep and eat."
Faint pangs of shame wormed into my headspace, for assuming the worst when I knew that his façade of vitriol and sarcasm was just that - a wall to protect himself. My rediscovery of the ability to feel, even if it was gooey shame, grounded me in this plane of existence, forcing me to face reality and return to it.
"I feel like shit," for once in my life, I allowed myself to openly, publicly complain about my state of being.
"Yeah, I couldn't tell," Sam's tone was refreshingly teasing. "Odette and Strange explained what you did. Well, sort of," the man scratched his chin. "I understood about half of it, really, but what matters is that you were badass as fuck!"
I struggled to hold onto that sense of being present. "Well, it wasn't my choice," I felt the need to state the fact. "I'm a conductor, of sorts."
Sam's eyebrows rose, both of his hands encompassing my lax palm. "Wizard-man said you consciously directed the energies, or whatever."
I felt the tiniest laugh bubble up from the bottom of my throat, my dry, chapped lips stretched on their own accord. "Because it tickled and itched. It was annoying," I belatedly suspected that there was something... Off, about my explanation.
Sam's gaping expression, exasperated disbelief, put me on edge. "You thought that radioactive ash tickles and severe nerve damage itches?" His head shook from side to side, as if he was trying to get rid of a persistent mosquito.
"Um," I had the decency to look away. "I didn't know it was radioactive," I meekly supplied as the door to my hospital room all but flew open.
Stephen looked - not much better than me, if I had to guess, with the exception of a highly anxious face instead of the (probably) dead inside high school drama club goth that I looked like. The Cape billowed behind him despite a lack of any wind, wiggling as my eyes widened in response to the fabric moving on its own.
"You're okay," Stephen's baritone had me snapping up to meet his stormy eyes with a speed I wasn't aware I possessed at this stage of my recovery. The sorcerer stood silently, eyeing me in turn.
"I'll go get some coffee," Sam delicately interjected, giving my hand a brief squeeze and all but running out the door.
"Radioactive?" I repeated the question that bothered me the most. Shock seized my chest as I fully faced the implications of our impromptu adventure, but I welcomed the acrid sensations, desperate to feel anything at all.
"Yes," the sorcerer took a few long, hurried strides before crashing into the chair. "I didn't notice at first, but then you grabbed my hand and," a jerky inhale followed the confession. "I felt the healing burn, I felt how your body rejected the particles," his speech stuttered. Slender, gloved fingers pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'd be dead in an hour, maybe, if not for..."
I was equally at a loss for words, it seemed. "Weren't we... Harmful to others when we..?" I struggled to form my thoughts.
"You burnt it all off," Stephen replied curtly, puzzled. "Your whole being rejected everything that came from that wretched place. Tony insisted we run tests, do scans. Neither of us have even residual radiation from past x-rays," Stephen's fingers twitched. "But that's not all."
"Your hands?" I offered, remembering some of Sam's words.
A sharp inhale coming from the sorcerer answered my question, if not in detail, and the man himself hesitated to reply for a reason I did not know. I didn't undo the damage, this much I knew was true. He swallowed loudly, eyes firmly planted on the wall opposite me. "They do not hurt anymore," the words were barely louder than a whisper.
I chewed on my lip, slowly, idly, letting Stephen process whatever bothered him that much. He should have been happy, or so I thought, that there was one less thing in this world that had the potential of giving him a headache. "Good," I simply replied, attempting to shrug.
"No, you don't understand," he suddenly lifted his eyes, staring at me hotly. "You did so at the expense of your own life, your lifespan, you energy, your ability to have child-"
I stopped his rant, lifting up one shaky, and my feeble gesture instantly made the tired, broken man deflate into someone that reeked of shame and regret. His shoulders dropped, head briefly touching the side of my bed. For all purposes, I nearly acquired a lapful of kicked puppy Stephen.
Mustering up my very last dregs of energy, I scoffed in his direction: "Don't fucking tell me what to do, wizard," before the familiar weight of apathy began taking over me again. One sluggish thought after the other, I came to a conclusion that he was experiencing a sort of survivor's guilt, except I didn't die.
Or maybe I did? Maybe I'd left some unknown, invisible part of me on the irradiated plains of a foreign world, coming home as a shell of my former self. To their eyes, at least, it could have looked the part; not too long after Stephen's departure, I mustered up the strength and the courage to look into a mirror, to properly see the damage I'd done to myself.
An ashen undertone to my skin, my eyes had sunken deeply into my surprisingly angular face. I had the look of a person who'd survived famine and torture, at least. I appeared to be as dull and disgusting as I felt. For what felt the first time in ages, I carefully, slowly ran myself a hot bath with some of the fancy toiletries placed in the bathroom, because of course Tony would have a full size bath in a hospital room, the steaming, herbal-smelling liquid almost instantaneously giving a boost to my blood flow and speeding up the living energies within my exhausted form.
Sam was waiting for me when I stepped out heated and pruney, a lopsided tilt to his lips and the mouthwatering smell of coffee gathering saliva in my mouth for the first time in days.
"Stephen needs to see a fucking therapist," I grouched, sitting down on the bed, bundled up in a fluffy bathrobe.
Wilson's responding eyeroll was pure reflex. "They all do," he reached out for his thermos, having noticed me eyeing it. A paper cup was promptly filled and given to me. "I can recommend a few, by the way. That specialise in unusual circumstances," he eyed me with kindness, gesturing towards the hospital room with a wide wave of his hand.
I chewed on my lip. "I don't think it will help much, at least right now, since all my hurts are- eh, magical," I shrugged. "I gotta figure out how to stop my limbs from feeling like cooked spaghetti noodles first." The coffee tasted like the usual hospital sludge but somehow, after being devoid of all feeling, it was the single best thing I've had in the past week.
"Seems like a solid plan," Sam agreed. "Your boss is a scary lady, by the way. And I mean it respectfully."
The corners of my mouth tilted up. "Yeah, but she's also very experienced and very kind. She knows her stuff."
Sam quickly looked to the side and as I followed the direction of his stare, i spied a pile of empty Tupperware boxes, causing me to lift an eyebrow at the suddenly bashful man.
"What?" He tried for indignant but it came out as a squeak. "I'm a man, god dammit! I am given free food, I take the free food!"
The realization set in. "She's feeding you now? Did you hit on my boss to get food, Sam?" I wagged my fingers, enjoying the face expressions the man was making, probably, a little more than I should. He looked like a right bird when disgruntled, all puffed up and glaring.
"No!" He almost shrieked. "She cornered me, said I was doing God's work by sitting and talking to you! She just started bringing those... Casseroles, every time she stopped by," the agitation in his voice was quite funny to me. "Not like it's a chore, I actually like the peace and quiet. You've been the best listener I've had in the past year," Sam's grin grew more genuine. "And I don't have to see RoboCop's mug all day or listen to someone argue over the best pasta shape."
"Your house sounds like a nightmare," I supplied conversationally, remembering my own peculiar place and the set of rules and- SHIT, I belatedly realized, someone might went to my apartment to get my stuff and gotten in trouble. "Sam, who went to my place to get my stuff?" I asked, trying to force down the bubbling unease.
"Some lady stopped by, I think her name was also Sam?" He quietly questioned. "Had two kids with her, the boy kept staring at me like I'd stolen his lunch money," the man finished off his coffee, gathering the trash and noisily throwing it in the bin.
"Yeah, that's my neighbor. And Armin is a cool little dude, he's just very shy," I offered absent-mindedly, inwardly breathing a massive sigh of relief.
"He looks like the boy from 'I see dead people' movie," Sam deadpanned, opening a large drawer and extracting my gym bag from it. "I'll leave you to get dressed," we nodded to each other before Sam left the room, phone to his ear and a relaxed atmosphere around his whole being radiating warmth and contentment. That was a nice change from the tense, grim atmosphere of the days past. I could get used to it, could re-learn how to let myself feel like a living being again.
I was eager to return home; stepping in through the portal, my living room greeted me exactly the way I left it the day I went to work, a few books scattered on the couch, my fleece blanket hanging halfway off the couch. Stephen hovered behind me as I set my bag down on the table, immediately surveying the state of my plants and my altar.
"Do you need, um, help with anything?" He was fidgeting, all but vibrating behind me.
Apparently, Sam had talked some sense into the wizard because he stopped by a few times since that day, for a short small-talk or a cup of coffee, the kicked puppy look back on full display.
I told Sam off, of course, saying that I was an adult and so was Strange, but something in his knee-jerk reaction told me that he was so used to playing referee, it didn't even register with him that I might be able to handle my own business. I told Sam that much, taking his hand in me: I wanted a friend, not a parent, not a therapist. It went pretty smoothly.
"No, not really," I figured I could water my own plants and vacuum my own floors. My phone buzzed at that moment, a number saved in my phone as "Tony 😎" coming through with an absolutely outrageous message.
"I'm bringing pizza in 20. You better have Netflix. Tell Dumbledore to pick up his phone."
I promptly thrust the phone in Stephen's face, who instantly developed an equally annoyed and fond expression, as he searched the numerous pockets of his robe for the sleek, light StarkPhone. "Resistance is futile," he sighed, sitting down on the couch as I went to change into something fresh and water my plants while Stephen flicked through my Netflix. I heard him mutter to himself: "Grey's anatomy? Sixth season? Oh my God," with the tone of a man tortured.
"I had a roomie in college who majored in Medical History," I snorted. "When she had a bad day, she'd absolutely pick apart every single thing in the show. From the doctor's misconduct to the way a surgeon was holding the scalpel," I explained, seeing Stephen's eyes sparkle with amusement. "She was absolutely vicious and it was the most hilarious thing."
The sorcerer stroked his chin, leaning back into the couch. "That's acceptable. All medical shows are rubbish," he stated firmly. His phone beeped, causing him to sigh and conjure up a portal within seconds, in the corner of my apartment I had aptly designated to be the landing pad to myself. Tony stepped in, a bottle of wine and three steaming pizza boxes in hand. Smiling at his boyfriend, Stephen turned to me with a curious look: "What did you major in?"
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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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New blog of imagines
Hey guys! I’m starting this new blog with imagines of marvel universe. Requests are open, feel free to ask ❣️
I’m ok with nsfw
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fuck this, here's an undercooked horny fairy bun cake ask
"Like that, baby? You like how it feels?" Tony rasps, in spite of his labouring breath and shivering thighs. The air trapped in his lungs is released with difficulty, wetly blooming in the crook of your neck, setting your whole being alight.
"I don't think she'll be able to do much talking," Stephen remarks, barely a trace of his usual condescending tone in the ghost of the softest of moans you'd ever heard him make.
And he's right. You feel your spit dribble down freely from the O of your lax lips, a noise between a huff and a groan escaping the wetness of it as Stephen's cock pushes deeper and deeper inside your already snug, filled cunt, slick leaking into your thighs.
Just one tiny tilt of his hips makes you shiver in Tony's arms, every fine hair standing alert on your heated body. Tony is nearly still with anticipation, his racing heart and throbbing girth showcasing it in a way that's just sublime.
You and Stephen both feed off on it, pushing for more, harder, deeper. It doesn't take much to have you see stars; just like you'd always imagined it would be. Full of cock and goosetrails following the tracks left by Stephen's and Tony's hands, fucked so stupid you can barely acknowledge your existence.
Stephen growls, "Harder, baby? Is that what you want?" And the explosion that hits you is nothing less than a burning midday Elysian sun.
I am sweating. I need it. I crave it. I thirst for it.
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masterpost ☀️ main masterlist ☀️ taglist
Two chapters over the weekend because I was ✨ inspired ✨ and my neighbors can't stop fucking (noisily!) and I'm,,, envious.
Strange adventures in Hell. There are descriptions of desperation and doom, lots of magic and - hear me out - forced/reluctant hand holding 😌 Oh my God, they held hands!!!
"What. Were. You. Thinking?!" Strange was seething, his enormous figure and broader height towered over me, the blood-red of his cape vibrating, the only spleck of colour in the grey and dusty dark world.
"I had no choice in the matter," I replied as calmly as I managed, gritting my teeth, memories of our past stand-off fresh in my mind. We could have bickered until the end, until one of the beasts flying overhead spotted us and decorated the bleary grounds of this forsaken planet with the crimsons of our life blood. "I think it's best if we get to safety first, argue later. I have no desire to become somebody's lunch."
That much was true: I had taken a good look at our surroundings as soon as I recovered from the vacuum-like sensation of being pulled into a magical gateway; the visibility was terrible, the planet's natural light very scarce. Several suns were hardly visible in the sky, their rays barely penetrating the mists and the ashes freely floating in the air.
There was oxygen even if breathing in a full lungful seemed impossible; I tried not to think about the contents of the air, or the possibility of radiation poisoning, as the multiple amulets and charms seared into my skin where they rested under my clothes. I had four bottles of water, some bandages and salves and a sacrifice for a single ritual to my name and absolutely no conviction that Mother Earth would be able to hear the call of an earthling gone so astray.
But it was hope, so I held on.
"Fine," Stephen sighed, suddenly looking tired and weary, glancing around with furrowed brows. "Let's see if I can open a portal," his hands did that complicated set of gestures that I'd grown to associate with a golden circle and sparks on the ground. The thing flickered, once, twice, before disappearing, as if the Sorcerer's magic had run out of batteries. "Yeah, I thought so," he whispered to himself, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
"The bad news first, please," I interpreted his hesitation with a realistic outlook on our predicament.
"I can't open a portal just anywhere on this planet. We need to find a... Rift, of sorts," the man was anxiously looking around. "And those things, they'll smell us... Right about now," his eyes shot up at a winged, rapidly approaching shadow. "No good news, I'm afraid."
I allowed myself a small sigh of disappointment, keeping a tight leash on the panic slowly creeping up my body. The feeling of determination, the power of Gaia within me was still present, laying in a cozy dormant ball slightly south of my solar plexus. "Give me your hand, please," I reached out to Stephen only for him to promptly recoil.
"You should've thought about the consequences of your actions, I'm not going to hold your hand because you're scared shitless," his words were sharp but they lacked the venom. He wouldn't, or couldn't, meet my eyes.
"I know you have scarred hands. I'm a healer and you don't have to feel embarrassed or ashamed I, I've seen worse," I stated in my best 'mutant nurse' voice as Stephen's eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened. "Those things can't sense me. And I know they won't be able to sense you too if we have skin-to-skin contact. So unless you want me to get under your... Robes," I gestured to the layers upon layers of clothing he had wrapped himself in. I considered the possibility of his whole body being covered in scars, too, and couldn't help the pang of sympathy. "Take one glove off and give me your damn hand before this trip to Jurassic Park goes full pterodactyl massacre!"
I saw the thing in the sky open it's mouth - but no sound came out, the clouds reducing it's outline to a vaguely triangular shadow. There was something very unusual about this planet's atmosphere.
With a couple of jerky movements, Stephen slid off the glove from his left hand, looking away as his large, dry, warm palm encompassed mine in a gentle, trembling grip. It made no sense to interlace our fingers, so I help onto him like a child holds onto their parent; the size difference of our hands and his imposing aura surely made me feel like one.
We stood a foot apart, watching the shadow in the sky begin to circle the place we stood in, it's gaping maw opening again and again, before it zigzagged across the sky with a strong dash of confusion, it's graceful glide becoming a series of rapid turns and twists. With a final inaudible shriek, it flew off into the dusty greys of the horizon, becoming a dark spot far away in mere seconds.
The silence was so loud in this world. Like the eerie stillness of my, undoubtedly haunted, apartment, I was eager to dissipate it with something beyond our combined heavy breathing. "Please don't tell Tony," I timidly gave our touching hands a sway. "He'll never leave it alone."
A chuffing noise coming from above had me whip my head up to see Stephen holding in a puff of nervous laughter; his shoulders dropped slightly as he eyed me in turn. "What makes you think I won't tease you about it?"
"You wouldn't dare," I took mock offense, rising my leaking nose to the skies.
The grumble and the eyeroll I expected, the smirk that faded into a ghost of a smile I did not. "We should go. Usually there is a rift within a few miles of every location everywhere," he tried to keep the content expression as he spoke but the storm in his eyes betrayed his concern. They were so blue, I felt like I was drowning.
I let myself to be tugged in a direction - everything seemed exactly the same, a never-ending ashen wasteland with the occasional dark grey rock that crumbled to dust as soon as the heel of my shoe touched it. My light blue sweater quickly became the colour of rotten wood, a sickly, dull monotone between brown and gray.
The complete lack of any kind of natural noise brought out the desolation of this wretched place; if we gripped each other's hands tighter, neither of us chose to acknowledge it. It was too easy to get lost in your own mind when the surroundings were dead set on rebuking anything that was in any shape or form alive.
I caught myself thinking that this must be what people think Hell should look like.
Strange walked briskly for the most part, periodically clearing his throat and eyeing me when I struggled to keep up with his long strides. It could have been an hour, or maybe two, of aimless wandering and rapidly imploding portals accompanied by Stephen's increasingly overcast face before I made the man stop and offered him a water bottle, which he insisted we split between us two.
It didn't take me a tarot reading to figure out our chances were grim. Needless, I gave him the same look I give to injured, scared mutant children when they come to the bodega for the first time; a look of quiet temperance.
And then we walked, and walked again, as Stephen grew moodier and moodier, marching on with the force of a seasoned soldier, only taking breaks when I forced him to stand still and breathe with me. As cautious and closed-off as he was, I pressed onto the fact of me being a healer of sorts, and he relented if briefly, always reluctant, always seasoned by a great dose of bewilderment.
"Do you feel that?" Stephen's stride halted, both feet firmly planted on the ground.
The ground had tremors had coming from deep within, small shocks that could have been easily missed if not for the complete lack of sound on this world. My nod was mute, I didn't trust my voice not to break when I clearly knew there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, endless fields of nothing all around us.
"Hold onto me," promptly, I was grabbed and pushed into his chest, his long arms easily picking me up, encouraging me to wrap my legs around his waist. "Hold tight, I might need my hands," my face grew hot as I wound my arms around Stephen's neck, clinging to him like a monkey, a palm resting on the soft fine hairs if his nape. It felt too intimate somehow, in the wake of imminent danger.
The Cape that previously swayed behind him in rhythm with his steps billowed, the red fabric of it tough as it levitated us a few feet above the ground. I felt Stephen tense with each tremor; within moments, the surface shook and stuttered more and more, cracks appearing in between the dust, turning the plains into a marble-patterned patch of darkness.
We rose above it, high enough that I could see the veins resulting from the quake stretch far out into the wasteland, jagged, abrupt lines of even more concentrated darkness. And as quickly as the quake started, it was over, leaving little evidence as the ground settled.
Stephen floated us to a larger patch of the ground, criss-crossed with thinner, less prominent lines, poking the ground with his foot before allowing it to fully bear our weight. He was shaken, there was no doubt. "That was... Something," he stated lowly.
"Mhm," I hummed, fighting the urge to frantically look around, forcing my hand from clutching at his palm like a lifeline. I had decided on a plan while I was busy playing baby koala - not that there were many other options except to wander these god forsaken bare badlands until our painful demise. "Listen, Strange, I'm aware you don't hold my people in particularly high regard but you're going to have to trust me on this," my words came out derisive as I placed his palm on the back of my neck and kneeled, forcing him to do the same behind me.
The contents of my bag greeted me grimly with out last bottle of water and the couple knick-knacks that gathered the black dust on them. I hastily poured the water into a bowl, dipping my fingers in it, and added the crushed bones to the mixture.
The time that was required to make a paste-like mixture, I used to address a bewildered Stephen. "This is a last resort. I don't know if it will work, we're not on Earth," I briefly breathed my distress. "I don't even know how far we are from home. But I refuse to die here, in this grotesque Hell, without putting up a fight and Gaia has always looked out for her flock. I might get very, very sick if this is successful."
The warning had him attempt to object before he cast a long look around us, shoulders sagging, as motioned for me to continue, those piercing blue eyes boring into my face. "Tell me what do I need to do," his voice quietly attempted to soothe my very obvious fear.
I was terrified, both of dying, nameless, faceles in this world full of Nothing; the prospect of withering away after depleting all my resources was, perhaps, equally unappealing, but dying on my home planet sounded better than dying here. "Have faith," I replied curtly, beginning to chant softly under my breath as soon as Stephen's expression hardened.
My eyelids grew heavy, limbs filling with lead and molten lava as I summoned the forces of Mother itself; my body was aching, exhausted by answering her call as it was. The warm ball in my chest that previously comforted me grew, spreading its smelten power through every vein, every vessel. No part of my body was left cold. A sense of purpose filled me, pushing me forward, driving me to move, to run, to leap.
"This way," even to my own ears, my voice sounded pained. It felt as if I was walking through swamp waters, full of clay and debris, each step taking my barely coherent form through an individual bog full of pins and needles. The force of Mother Nature burned inside of me, enraged at the state of her surroundings.
Stephen spoke to me but all I could hear was mumbling, thousands of voices, low and shrill, unintelligible to the human mind. I could feel the sorcerer's pain; the itch and burn in his throat, the constant, dull throb in his scarred, broken hands. His hand in mine only intensified the situation and I fought with his injuries like I fought with the black dots in my eyes, I forced down the unpleasant sensations, setting fire to them, letting the reigns of control on the raging inferno within me slip just the smallest, tiniest bit.
The steps of his long feet stuttered as I felt the discomfort lessen yet I simply towed him along. Time leaked through the cracks in my eyes, which were mostly unseeing anyways. The useless things grew blind at some point, not that I noticed it on the greys and blacks of the surrounding scenery. It was harder to walk, my breathing grew laboured with the extertion as we finally reached the place that felt right.
"Here," I rasped, voice so quiet it could have been mistaken for a breeze. I craved to feel it; the soft puffs of wind, the sound of running water. I had called for Earth and she demanded its child back.
The portal appeared without a stutter even though Stephen's hands shook; I saw the uneven channels, the energies traveling through them at an uneven pace. As soon as I pushed through the wormhole, coming to my senses in an unfamiliar, light room, I fell to my knees.
Stephen's pained moaning told me he was probably experiencing the same stinging, burning sensation on his skin; my eyes, they were the worst - my eyeballs felt like they were melting, leaking out of my sockets into thick, gelatinous tears streaming down my face. I blindly groped for the sorcerer's hand, directing the forces within me to soothe his hurts much like I had done in the wastelands.
"Strange?!" A masculine, shocked voice exclaimed before footsteps crashed into my sensitive ears with the force of an elephant herd. "Oh my God, they're here! Tony, come!"
"Stop fucking screaming," Stephen gasped out as I felt him curl into himself.
"Friday, scan them," I recognised Tony's voice, the tiredness and desperation standing out in it more than it did in the rest of the whispers in the room.
"They appear to be experiencing a sensory overload. I would recommend to engage Peter's Cooldown mode," the mechanical voice replied, barely audible. The noise still grated on my ears after spending... How long were we gone?
"Do it, Fri," Tony's soft footsteps reached us; I smelled the spices of his cologne next to my and Stephen's prone forms. "You gave us a scare there," the tone was admonishing but gentle.
"We were scared shitless ourselves," I attempted to speak, only now noticing how grating my voice sounded. "We were in Hell," I mumbled to myself, slowly removing my hand from Stephen.
"That," he coughed up the word, breathing through his nose before speaking again, his voice sounding much better than mine. "That place was as close as possible to biblical pits I have ever seen," there was shuffling and gentle murmurs as the two men ensured each other of their presence and well-being.
The burning sensations receded back to my core, the embers of the fires dying out, leaving me feeling like deflated beach ball, all shell and no filling. With a groan, I rolled over onto my back right in the middle of the pristine carpet on the floor, forcing my eyes open and breathing through the pain until I could somewhat see the champagne coloured ceiling without black dots obstructing my vision.
Shuffling noises reached my ears as a familiar round face with light red hair came into my line of sight, Wanda's gentle features concerned. "Star, do you need to go to medical?" She eyed me almost suspiciously but the question was earnest.
The idea of a doctor fixing a magical burnout was bizarre to me, as if it ever was that easy; I chortled sardonically. "No, Wanda, there's nothing wrong with me that a doctor would be able to fix," I replied honestly. "I should call Odette."
"I've called, she said to notify her when you return," Sam's voice was gentle as he approached. I could feel him glaring daggers at a rapidly reddening Wanda. "She was the one who said you'll definitely come back," he offered me his hand.
I had to choke down a moan of relief as I grabbed it. The warmth, the life of another human being, the precious gift of a beating pulse under my fingertips was divine. "You should listen to her. She knows her stuff." It was easy, talking to Sam as if he was an old friend. He had one of the most pleasant auras I've seen on a human being.
"I'm a doctor," Stephen suddenly perched up, sounding almost bashful. "And I can aid the healing process," he stated over Tony's disgruntled mumbling. "If you can explain to me how the hell you managed to hold a... an entire sun's worth of energy!" The more he spoke the more bewildered he became, tone growing in pitch, ending the sentence with an exclamation.
"I don't know," I replied with a sigh. The whole indignation in this man, I was not prepared to face. "When I took this up," I gestured vaguely to the burned, bent metal adornments I began to remove off my body. "I thought I was going to get an increase in tips and a better outlook on life. Help my friend with her asthma as much so she wouldn't have to use her inhaler every time she gets suprised or scared," my jewelry hit the floor with a dull clank, piling up into bent silver I wouldn't even be able to cleanse and repurpose.
Sam whistled lowly, poking at a necklace that had twisted on itself, a grotesque spiral of dull ashen grey.
"I certainly didn't think that a bleeding mutant accepting his fate as cannon fodder will call for the Earth itself," my tone grew vicious. Exhaustion was nesting in my bones. "And that Mother Nature would take over my body, pour lava into my veins and bleed recklessness into my thoughts. But here I am, freshly out of Hell and alive and kicking."
A stunned silence was interrupted by Tony's frantic whispering. "You are not leaving my penthouse for the foreseeable future," as the weight of the incident set on him. The knuckles of his hand clutching Stephen's dirty tunic turned white.
"I am," Stephen eyed me with a strange look in his eye, as if he was seeing me for the first time. His eyes then turned to Tony, who'd began rambling, arguing with Stephen. The sorcerer stopped the word vomit with a grim confession. "I'd be dead if not for Starlight. I'd be meat and bone, splattered across a barren, radioactive land in the deepest, darkest pits of the universe."
I felt my face droop in slow-motion. My throat flexed, swallowing a thick lump of filthy mucus, I coughed up, "Ra-radioctive?" As soon as I could work my voice without it squeaking.
Taglist: @couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins2 @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox
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request: Could you make a Dr.Strange x Wizard reader.
Where Strange is helping reader master her powers and there have been sexual tension between them for a while until one decides to confess and perhaps some smut
- @creepybook (sorry it won't let me tag you)
a lesson in magic
pairing: Stephen Strange x reader
warnings: FILTHY SMUT, unprotected sex, swearing, overstimulation, wong walking in on them.
summary: Stephen is trying to teach you a new spell, when an innocent act of comfort turns into something a lot less innocent.
a/n: I absolutely loved writing this, I haven't written smut in ages so this was great. thanks for the request. enjoy! <3
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
"ugh I'm never going to get this" you groaned, watching the sparks fizzle out in the air.
"yes you will, come on. one more time and then we can have a break." Dr Strange said from behind you. "have this hand here, and this one here." he said, positioning the hands as he spoke. you were very aware of his hot breath against your neck, making your heart beat quicker. "try it now." he said, when he had finished adjusting your position.
you waved your hands in the air, trying with all your might to get this damn spell right. you watched the sparks float in the air for a second before they fizzled out just like last time, and the hundred other times before that. you sighed loudly, shoulders dropping in disappointment.
"you will get it eventually y/n, I can feel it." Stephen said, gently placing his hands on your shoulders and giving them a reassuring squeeze.
you tensed at his touch, skin tingling where he touched you and butterflies erupting in your stomach. "hopefully" you mumbled.
"yeah, hopefully" Stephen said, giving your shoulders another squeeze, making you moan slightly. you immediately clamped your hand over your mouth, face growing hot.
"don't be embarrassed darling." Stephen whispered in your ear, moving his hands from your shoulders to your hips quickly. he spun you around in his embrace as your eyes found his.
"do you want this?" he asked, always the gentleman.
"yes." you murmured, as he leant down and captured your lips in a breathtaking kiss. his lips felt like they were meant to be against yours.
"I've wanted to kiss you like that for so long." Stephen whispered against your lips when the two of you finally broke apart.
"me too." you whispered, gasping slightly as he lifted you up by the thighs, pressing you against a near by wall.
he kissed down your neck, whispering sweet nothings against your skin. "sorry about that love, I just couldn't help myself. you look so tempting." he said, kissing down your collarbone. "are you sure you want me to continue?" he asked, pulling away slightly.
"yes, please Stephen. I need you." you moaned, missing the contact between the two of you.
"okay darling." he mumbled, before attacking your neck with butterfly kisses. he pulled back again before adding “we should probably move this somewhere else, if Wong catches us we will get an earful about his precious books."
“fuck Wong” you hissed, slamming your lips on his harshly. he reached down, working on undoing your trousers until he finally got them around your knees. pulling your underwear aside he slid two fingers into your drenched pussy.
"my my, you are wet." he said, smirking at you.
you nodded, throwing your head back in ecstasy as he pumped his fingers in and out of your cunt. you reached your hand forward slowly, beginning to palm him through his trousers.
Stephen stopped his assult on your pussy, pulling your trousers and underwear completely off of you in one motion before reaching to undo his own trousers.
"no, let me." you said, sinking to your knees and unbuckling his trousers before pulling them down and discarding them in the growing pile of clothes.
you gasped at the size of him, long and thick with pre cum leaking from the angry red tip. you gave the head a small kiss and licking away the pre cum before slowly rising to your feet and looking into his lust filled eyes.
Stephen turned you around, backing you into a table before picking you up by your thighs again and lifting you onto it.
"please Stephen, I need you in me." you whimpered, bucking your hips against his, trying to get some friction.
he slowly lined up at your entrance, gently pushing into you until he bottomed out. pausing for a second to make sure you were okay he pulled almost all the way out before slamming back into you, making you moan loudly.
"your so tight darling." Stephen growled, starting a brutal pace. he hit your g spot everytime, making you throw your head back in ecstasy.
"that's it princess, take my cock." he hissed, pounding into you relentlessly.
"I'm gonna cum Stephen." you moaned, before he captured your lips in a harsh kiss.
"go on darling, cum all over my cock." he said once he had pulled away from the kiss.
you moaned as the vibrations took over your body, clamping down on his cock like a vice as he helped you ride out your orgasam.
Stephen kept pounding into you, determined to make you cum one more time before spilling his seed in you. he reached up to your pussy and started rubbing circles on it, making you moan at the oversitmulation.
"come on, cum for me again darling." he whispered.
"I- I can't." you stuttered.
"yes you can, let go for me." he said, adjusting himself so that he could go deeper into you.
you moaned loudly as the second wave of ecstacy hit you, clamping down on his cock again, triggering his own orgasam. he groaned loudly as you felt his hot cum paint your walls. he thrusted into you a few more times before pulling his throbbing cock out of you slowly and collapsing onto the table next to you.
"we should do that more often." you said, when you had caught your breath, smirking up at him.
before Stephen could reply the two of you heard the door to the library open. you whipped your head around to see the shocked face of Wong.
"what the fuck?"
safe to say, the two of you did get an earful about "doing that in the room with my precious books."
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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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Stephen Strange x Male! Reader Headcannons
Stephen meeting you first when he was a doctor and you came in to visit a family member in the hospital
He started “accidentally” bumping into you whenever you came to visit
On the day your family member was getting released from the hospital he tried to ask you out but got so nervous he basically threw a piece of paper with his number on it into your hand before hurrying off.
You called him later that night and arraigned a time to go out for dinner
He was adorably awkward at asking you to be his boyfriend after the second date
Being there to comfort him after his accident and supporting him through the many surgeries
Assuring him that you’d never leave him even if his hands were never going to be the same.
Going with him to Kamar Taj to support him but not being allowed in.
Stephen teleporting into your room the moment he learns to properly use a sling ring
Celebrating his small victory together.
Pacing your room for hours while Stephen faces off against Dormamu and helping him recover from the trauma afterwards.
Going to live with him in the Sanctum Sanctorum.
Taking Wong’s side sometimes just because Stephen’s reaction is funny.
Getting along well with Wong, and having him tell Stephen to treat you properly.
Low-key just being best buddies with Wong and Stephen getting low-key jealous sometimes.
The cloak of levitation wrapping itself around you randomly or pulling Stephen towards you.
Stephen still being amazed and love-struck every-time you introduce yourself as Stephen’s boyfriend.
Getting to teleport instantly to where ever you want
Stephen and Wong teaching you enough magic and fighting skills to protect yourself from threats
Late night cuddles in bed talking about anything that pops into your minds.
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masterpost ☀️ main masterlist ☀️ taglist
We meet Lucy, we meet Samantha and her twins & Mother Nature gets a little bit mad. But on the upside - she loves Tony :)
Kind reminder that this story will have horror/thriller elements & graphic descriptions of blood, gore and all the nasty stuff associated with superhero battles described in some detail. This chapter contains some of that.
Honestly, this story is getting- uhh- 8-12 notes on Tumblr. It's got a decent following on AO3 which brings me joy because I truly do enjoy the worldbuilding to a, perhaps, guilty amount. So if you like it too - please reblog :)
The fabric of my skirt was suddenly yanked and I jumped, dropping my phone and startling out of my daze. Two big, blue eyes stared up at me, curiousity mixed with impatience in them. I crouched down to pick up my device, coming face to face with a tiny blonde girl about nine or ten years of age.
"Lucy, hi!" I squeezed out a smile at the child. She looked pale, as if she'd never seen the slightest bit of sunlight, chubby cheeks contrasted by an overall spindliness of her body. Her dress was a puffy, long-sleeved, red and white polka dotted monstrosity with at least two petticoats that made her seem bigger than she actually was. "Sorry, didn't see you there. Long day at work," despite there being a worm of anxiety crawling deeply in my chest, I heeded the warnings on the list of rules and swallowed any unease I had.
Which was a hard feat. The stairs had gotten confused and I lost ten minutes of time going back, over and over, after encountering floors "5", "8" and "19" instead of my third floor, in a five story building. The building providing extra floors shouldn't have surprised me that much but the worst was fighting with the desire to explore them, my rational brain unhelpfully supplying that if this building was truly dangerous, nobody would be living in it.
The pull was almost unnatural in its strength yet my protection charms remained unaffected. Too tired from returning to work, I decided to distract myself with my phone - and nearly ran poor little Lucy off her feet.
"You are new," she signed to me slowly, carefully observing my reaction to her using ASL.
I had been truly unsettled by the rule list, perhaps more than I wanted to admit to myself, so I spent a night wide awake brushing up my meager sign language skills. "Yes, my name is Star," I replied, not quite sure if I wanted to shake her hand or simply make myself scarce as soon as possible.
Lucy gave me a closed-lipped grin, swooshing her puffy skirts in what I perceived to be a calculated amount of shyness. "Can I play with you, please?" Her hands moved a little more rapidly as she side-eyed my apartment door.
I briefly ran a mental checklist of the contents of my fridge. "Sure," I figured that two leftover steaks in it would be more than enough for the little girl. I'd splurged and gotten four prime pieces of meat to treat myself after a hectic moving process, cooking only half of them on the first day. "Come on it. You hungry?"
The door swung open as I led Lucy in, her bright dress and pale skin standing out in the twilight of my apartment. She nodded her head seriously, looking at me from head to toe as shivers ran up and down my spine. My bag was unceremoniously dumped on the couch, my socked feet shuffling into the kitchen and beelining for the fridge.
Lucy followed me quietly, taking a seat at the dinner table and folding her thin arms atop it, expectant blue eyes following my every move. As I plated the meat and reached for the roll of paper towels, I felt like I was being examined under a microscope. Somewhere in the distance, a quiet hissing noise was beginning to rise.
Lucy politely declined the fork and knife I attempted to give her so I just set down the plate in front of her, leaving the kitchen to change out of my dusty, sweaty clothes, too tired to really worry about the loud, sloppy and wet chewing noises and low growling coming from the dining area. I decided as long as she wasn't attempting to have me for dinner, I was going to be just fine.
I found Lucy on the carpet of my living room, flipping through a fashion magazine she'd found somewhere after I was done with scavenging some sweatpants from my mostly-unpacked closet. Her blonde curls bounced as she looked up at me with another tight smile, this time looking calmer, friendlier somehow. "I like those dresses," she signed, pointing at a few pictures with models wearing ballroom gowns in all kinds of colours. "And these..." She pointed out a tiara, probably not knowing how to sign the words.
"This is a tiara," I spoke slowly, signing the last word with my hands carefully as she observed. And then a few more times, until she repeated her last sentence perfectly. "Good job, Lucy," I praised her as she beamed at me. The river of quiet, scratchy giggles never stopped as she pointed out various things and I tried to sign them to the best of my ability, Lucy not showing any signs of upset whatsoever if I couldn't get the name for something right.
After some time, it was beginning to get very dark outside and a couple of pointed glances at the clock was all it took for her to stand up and carefully dust off her skirts. "Thank you for playing with me, Star," Lucy signed excitedly. "I like you. Do you want to know a secret?" She leaned in conspirationally, bursting into my space bubble with a lack of care only a child could posess.
I nodded, not trusting my mouth whatsoever. The closer she leaned in, the more overwhelming her smell became. Her pretty dress reeked of mildew and stale water, her breath - of dried blood and something earthen, like moist soil and cold cobblestone.
Lucy's eyes widened dramatically. "If you need answers, go on to the seventh floor. Bring some warm milk and cookies, they won't bother you too much, but be careful and don't stay for too long. You look tasty," I struggled to keep up with her rapid signing, my eyes firmly trained on her. Lucy's hand carefully patted my cheek and in my frozen state, I could only wave back as she skipped to the door and unlocked it, giving me one of her closed-lipped smiles before disappearing behind it without a noise.
The lock slid shut on it's own after the girl's departure. My heart briefly jumped up into my throat, trapping my jerky inhale in-between my throat and my esophagus. Coughing, I went on to double check the door lock before scrambling for the TV remote to add some background noise to the suddenly eerily quiet apartment.
The sit-com that popped up wasn't any of the ones I knew so I sat helplessly watching unfamiliar people get themselves into more and more absurd situations as the grating noise of pre-recorded audience laughter mocked the characters actions. A sudden shriek pierced the late night stillness, followed by a sound of breaking dishes and a woman's voice tiredly chastising the miscreants.
I'd seen her a few times as she smoked her strong cigarettes in front of the entrance, her twins running in circles around the large pothole in the middle of the driveway. She'd been friendly enough, the dark circles under her eyes and the unkempt state of her clothes telling me more than her words, "I love them, I really do. But I just want some sleep," she rasped as she sighed and attempted to gather her two kids.
I didn't examine them too closely but on first moment's notice their eyes and teeth appeared... Wrong. Samantha had taken them inside after that, clutching a coffee thermos of a size truly impressive, and I went on my merry way, trying not to think too much of the poor, single mother and her two mutant kids. I felt a little proud, even, as she didn't just abandon them like many other people did after discovering their children had an active X-gene.
It didn't take me long to cave in and offer my help with watching the twins, Anya and Arman; one noisy weekend bled into the next and I began to genuinely feel bad for the overtired woman. Inviting the two terrors into my apartment was a choice I had made mindfully: having asked Odette about advice on hyperactive children, she had proposed a puzzle or two.
The thrifted, wooden items weren't able to hold the twins' attention for long, and Anya was the first one to begin gnawing at the hard blocks, covering the area around her in splinters. Arman was a quiet boy compared to his sister: he'd stare at the TV or at the walls, avoiding eye contact and conversation at great lengths.
My couch was jumped on, my dishes were taken out and my houseplants rearranged chaotically; it was almost as if they purposefully tried to get a rise out of me without doing any actual damage. I spent the remaining few hours of my Sunday putting things back in their places - all that pent up frustration had done wonders for the state of my apartment; it sparkled, looking cleaner than the day I moved in.
The babysitting became a somewhat regular occurrence, more often than not with me popping in for a couple of hours so Samantha could run some errands and the odd weekend when the twins came over to me so Sam could get some much-needed sleep.
She was a kind, gentle if chronically overworked woman. We clicked pretty quickly over our shared desire for comfortable stability and some fucking peace; neither I nor she had it in sights for the foreseeable future. Sam's reaction to me being a witch was a shrug and a top up to her wine glass as she pointedly looked at her daughter who was busy chewing on a door handle, leaving small, jagged marks all over the dull metal.
I just had gotten sorted with a bunch of complicated orders when the radio interrupted Eric Clapton with an emergency message and instructions to steer clear of the next few blocks over. Something had hit NYC again and Avengers had been called but nobody knew exactly what it was or when it was going to be dealt with.
As soon as I shot a text to Sam, explaining the situation, I immediately retreated to the back rooms, setting up my healing station over the noise of Odette preparing her office for visitors. For some time, I waited with baited breath, jumping at every little noise coming from the outside. The people tickled in slowly, mostly one by one and all were covered in foul-smelling sludge that evaporated with a loud hiss when the concentrated light of the UV lamp in my office touched it.
"Some kind of aliens, I think," a man with a face somewhere between a human and a hedgehog told me, wincing as he retracted his spikes back into his skin. "There's a hole- a portal, right on a crossroads and there's these things coming out. They kinda look like dragons, or flying snakes maybe," the more light breached the surface of his skin, the more relaxed he became. "The Sorcerer and the Witch are trying to close the portal, unsuccessfully might I add, and the muscle is just," he paused, scratching his chin. "Just killin' 'em, I guess."
I nodded enthusiastically, prompting him to continue to rely the state of the affairs as I applied the thick, viscous ointment on a gash on his leg. "It's hammer and Frisbee time," I mumbled to myself sarcastically.
"Yep," the man popped the 'p'. "Most of us are trying to keep the creatures contained to that one block. I saw Iron Man blasting off some of the creatures off of some of my friends," the last sentence contained a great deal of puzzlement. "Though you won't be seeing much of us this time. These things... They're vicious. They've got claws the size of my foot. A lot of us are going to die where they gut us," the sentence was spoken so matter-of-factly, my hands paused on the man's leg, bringing my eyes to his unblinking dots of black.
"What do you mean?" I swallowed in an attempt to chase away the dry, rough feeling in my throat.
"Those beasts... They're smart. One of my friends - she's a... Telepath of sorts... Says they're an intelligent hivemind," the man's broad, warm palm closed over mine. "The beasts leave only the ones that won't get help in time. They can smell death from a mile away. That's how they hunt," his voice was gentle, soothing over the sudden ringing of my ears.
"I..." My mind stuttered, a sticky ball of anxiety, fear and sorrow gathering up in my chest. "I'm so sorry. I..."
"We know what we're doing, out there, we know the risks," his smile was tight and full of grief. "You're doing your part here, makin' sure our babies have parents. We're out there makin' sure our streets are safe. Such is life," the grin acceptance in his pitch-black, small eyes set fire to the tension in my chest.
I exploded, inside out. The sudden burst of decisive, clear-headed energy made the objects around me vibrate, metal resonated my sorrow and my determination, the wood heated up with the force of Mother Nature itself responding to an act of cruelty bestowed upon her creations.
As soon as the man's bandage was finished and he headed out, I grabbed my old, ratty backpack, hastily shoving things into it in a semi-organized fashion. Clean linen strips, bandages, some premade elixirs and draughts, a few jars of salves, carefully tucked in-between the cloth. As I knocked on the door of Odette's office to retrieve the last few items I would need for my reckless journey, the door handle turned on its own, letting me observe her tending a woman who's skin was peeled off most of her back.
"Can't you see I'm..." Odette exclaimed, throwing her free hand towards the door, which did not budge. She turned on her heel, eyes widening when she observed my wide, solid stance in the doorway, lips immediately curling into a small grin. "I understand. Take what you need. It's not wise to resist Her call," the words were spoken carefully, as if not to spook me, before Odette resumed her delicate work of putting the injured woman back together.
Without a word, I finished packing and left through the front door, not needing more than my scarf and my light sweater to keep me from the freezing gusts of wind. My very core was the centrefold of an active volcano, bursting with white-hot bursts of energy as I approached the injured people on my way towards the terrible screeching noise.
This far out, most of the injured were able to make it to Odette's or to the other healer, who's name I had found out only then, but they were thankful for the water I offered them. Not once did they question me: my star-patterned scarf, out of all things, had become somewhat of a symbol for me among the different folk. Mutants approached me fearlessly, giving generous updates on the direction of the battle and the hotspots I probably should have avoided.
The louder the screeching noises grew, the more people needed my help. The stops took longer, my painkillers were becoming a short supply, the main relief provided by a couple of mid-range, mid-strength energy manipulating mutants that began to tail me after I offered to patch them up in exchange for help with the injured.
It was as if I instinctually knew where I was most needed, my decisions were seldom my own. Me and the two mutants bid a haste goodbye after loading up their truck with the injured, although deep inside, I knew that the amount of corpses, bloody and messy, littering the streets had begun to get to them. In a normal state of mind, I would not have been able to look at them either: then, each mangled, broken body only added fuel to the fire within me.
As I stepped foot in an intersection where someone had piled up bent and broken cars, the shadow flying over my head shrieked, taking a fluid nose dive towards another, smaller flying figure. I dropped flat on the ground, the contents of my backpack clattering, watching the small figure in the sky blast the beast with an off-blue ray of concentrated energy. As soon as the creature began it's graceless drop, Tony turned around and flew off, looking none worse for wear.
At the very centre of my chest, a faint feeling of fondness and hope blossomed into tiny little flowers that soothed the aching sorrow for the dead. Each warcry of the beasts from another world fed the anger, the anguish Gaia seemed to exhibit at their intrusion; the revolt I felt upon laying my eyes on one of them made me sweat, hands clenching into fists until my skin crawled under my nails.
The last part of me that wanted to pretend I was in control was gone; my soft, untrained body a mere vessel for a force stronger than me, stronger than anything. Noise around me grew in pitch, some of the creatures circling around my hiding spot cluelessly, aimlessly, as if they could not find what they were looking for.
I moved spots in a daring series of runs, bringing me almost to the portal itself, and the hellish lizards dived into my previous sanctuary, shattering the concrete and the wood of the house under the amused black stares of glassless windows.
The realization set it - they could not see me. Or perceive me properly, I deduced, inspecting the creatures for any sort of orifice except for their mouths and finding them to lack eyes and ears.
My own stare fell onto Sorcerer Supreme, floating amongst a variety of moving golden circles; I was close enough to hear him talking in a language I did not know. Wanda was hovering nearby, holding up a wall of red energy, protecting the chanting sorcerer.
A united screech invoked a shiver from every living being within it's reach, the creatures circling the portal for the last time before flying off in haphazard directions as the portal slowly began to close. I was prepared to cheer, yet, something stopped me; not a second later, the circles surrounding Stephen dimmed as the man himself jumped up onto his feet in alarm, screaming something unintelligible at the Scarlet Witch.
The overturned food cart I was hiding behind slowly began to creep towards the portal. A couple of rats, a pigeon - the animals flew in front of my eyes, rapidly, as they struggled against the unseen force. My hands grasped the handlebars of the cart in vain, I struggled against the force, seeing a moment of confusion on Wanda's face as I floated- no, rocketed past her as Stephen's golden magic forcefully pushed her out of the portal's reach.
It's size no bigger than a doorway, the vile thing blew cold, dry air under my sweater, muffling Stephen's cursing as we briefly collided during our violent expulsion into another world.
And then, there was darkness.
Taglist! @couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins2 @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox
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Going to Disney World with the Avengers Gang™
A multi-part, headcanon series including: (The Whole Gang) Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Vision, Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, Thor Odinson, Loki Laufeyson
Planning The Trip
Checking In (Where They Would Stay)
Disney Bounding / Dressing Up
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Going To Disney With The Avengers Gang™ | Planning The Trip
Part One of my "Going To Disney With The Avengers Gang™" headcanon series
Includes: (The Whole Gang) Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Vision, Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, Thor Odinson, Loki Laufeyson
Word Count: 3.9k
Relationships: The Avengers x F!Reader, Ambiguous; just how we like it ;)
Going To Disney With The Avengers Gang™ Master List
→The whole idea starts when the team is lounging at the compound doing regular™ team things
→A.K.A Wanda, y/n, Pietro, and Vision are in a pile on one of the couches cuddling, Clint and Nat are across the room playing pool, Bucky is making ramen in the kitchen, Steve is trying to convince Bucky to add an egg or something for more protein, Bruce and Stephen are talking neuroscience and bickering over techniques of spinal fluid something, Thor and Loki are fighting over the remote before Loki finally rolls his eyes and picks up the book y/n had left on the coffee table, Sam is asleep on the floor, and Tony is just tired
→In the madness though he picks up on the conversation happening between the four people on the couch
→“You’ve never been to Disney World?”
→Three rounds of “no” “nope” “I’ve only had a body for a year, y/n. When would I have gone to Disney World?”
→”Okay, yeah, good point, Vis. But y’all would love it. I haven’t been since high school but I want to go again so bad. We need a vacation.”
→Tony doesn’t even stick around to hear the rest, he’s already walking away while speaking to FRIDAY, telling her start pulling up the Disney site and analyzing it, disappearing to his lab and using all of his monitors to compare the resorts and try to decide where to stay that everyone would like (and where they would all fit because there’s too many of them)
→It doesn’t take him long to realize they’re going to need large accommodations
→Bruce is the first to notice that he’s gone, sneaking into the lab and scaring the hell out of Tony
→“Ah shit-- Bruce! How are you so quiet?”
→And then he points to the seven open listings on the monitors and explains that the team needs a break and that he heard y/n talking about Disney World and that he wants to surprise the team-- Bruce agrees immediately (the man is always in need of relaxation)-- and that’s how the team’s geek squad ends up playing Disney Dad #1 and Disney Dad #2 and planning the most extravagant vacation in less than three hours
→They have it down to a science after the first twenty minutes-- dividing what needs to be done and tackling it individually while bouncing ideas off one another
→“Do you think they want to eat at Beauty and The Beast Castle or Ariel’s Grotto the second night?” “I’m not sure-- book them both.” “Tony we can’t--” “FRIDAY, book them both.” “You got it Mr. Stark.”
→There’s a lot of Bruce wondering if what they’re booking is too expensive and even more of Tony reminding him that he’s a literal billionaire and that he could buy the Disney company if he wanted to-- that still doesn’t stop Bruce from suggesting more frugal methods from time to time-- it only makes Tony want to spend even more money because you need to lighten up, Banner
→The next person who realizes Tony and Bruce are gone is-- surprisingly-- Sam
→Honestly it’s only because he has to pass Tony’s lab on the way back from his room and he sticks his head in to tell them that “Romanoff and Barton ordered pizza if y’all want any… holy crap is that Disney World? Are we going to Dis--”
→Tony literally grabs him by the collar and tells him to hush it, birdman before pulling him into the room and explaining his plans for the second time-- “Yes, we are going to Disney World and I want it to be a surprise.”
→Sam just nods, his eyes on the screen and his brows beginning to push down and-- “Okay but why are you booking dinner at Mickey’s Backyard Barbecue on the same day that you have fast passes for World of Color at Epcot?”
→And Tony and Bruce blink and are just like “What?”
→And Sam is already at the computer, fingers stuttering over the weird ass hoverscreens while pulling up the page which shows that the World of Color has a whole ass dining experience-- Tony and Bruce have no clue that was even a thing-- and suddenly Sam is the one telling them what to plan because, as it turns out, this man loves Disney World and has been upwards of thirteen times and knows it inside and out
→Thank gods for Sam because these two Disney Dads™ were really shooting blindly into the abyss of trip planning without ever having gone to Disney World-- he has to shift around fast passes, dining reservations, water park tickets, and even the family portrait session that Tony demanded Bruce add
→He shows them all the things they don’t even think to plan-- firework shows, dessert parties, literally all of Downtown Disney-- Tony wants to be mad but he’s too busy picking his jaw up off the floor when Sam manages to book them for an After Dark Party in Magic Kingdom
→Bruce gets so excited when Sam tells him that’s a thing that he almost gives the plan away when Natasha comes rushing to see what all the noise is (it’s Banner jumping up and down like a toddler) -- he has to rush to the doorway, make up a lie about him dropping a piece of equipment, and then walk her back to the common area and play a round of pool with her to keep her questions at bay
→It’s all fine because Sam puts the final touches on the plan and has Tony give the order for FRIDAY to book it all and then it’s ready to tell the team
→They sneak back into the common area, it’s nine pm and everyone just looks so worn out
→Stephen is literally half way to snoring, legs curled under him on the love seat, doing that thing people do when they’re falling asleep and their head slumps and then they spring back awake, repeating the process an embarrassing amount of times but nobody’s even paying attention
→Steve and Bucky are talking quietly in the corners about whether or not they should just go to sleep because it’s Thursday and there’s really no point in staying up any longer
→Clint and Thor are sharing a bag of popcorn and half watching John Wick while discussing the inaccuracies of the movie-- “If he had a bow none of this would have happened.” “Or a hammer.” “Yeah, that too.”
→Yeah, they’re exhausted, and it makes the Disney Dads™ and Sam that much more excited to share the news
→Sam’s twiddling his hands behind his back and sharing smiles with Banner who’s trying to keep his excitement at bay and Tony is rolling his eyes but smiling too and for a moment nobody notices their cheshire grins and nervous foot tapping until finally y/n lifts her head from Pietro’s chest-- who complains at the action and lifts his head too-- and lazily asks
→“Tones, what on earth are you smiling about?”
→And the man opens his mouth but before he can even get the words out Bruce and Sam are already jumping up and down again and screaming “We’re going to Disney World!”
→And the room goes dead silent for three beats-- one, two, three-- and it feels like a million seconds and Tony’s face is dropping slowly and he’s ready to be like sike and then she jumps up, literally stepping on Pietro’s stomach, hurtling the back of the couch like a damn track star and rushing the man at full force, flinging herself at him and jumping into his arms and there are tears streaming down her face and she’s screaming
→“Tony you didn’t! Oh my gods you didn’t! You’re lying oh my god no! Are you serious?”
→And he’s nodding but he still can’t get a word in edgewise because she’s still rambling-- “You heard me oh my gods! You heard me and you did it! Tony that’s insane and reckless and oh my god I love you! Are we actually going? This isn’t a trick? Please don’t let this be a trick!”
→And he just laughs and spins her around and tells her that no, this isn’t a trick I’m not the mischief god here and Loki rolls his eyes but he’s also kind of excited despite the frown on his face
→They’re all excited
→Pietro and Wanda and screaming with Sam, slapping each other and just full on freaking out like children, incoherent and happy and raring to just go already
→In turn this wakes Stephen up who hears the madness and jumps up, on edge and ready to literally fight before he realizes what’s going on and calmly sits back down, nodding his head but not speaking because if this literal grown man opens his mouth he knows he’s going to freak out too because holy shit Disney World-- even sorcerers like Disney!
→Steve and Bucky are kind of confused-- they just barely remember Snow White when it came out but Disney World? They made a-- what is it? A theme park? Regardless they’re excited, ready to break the old men lull they’ve fallen into-- Bucky hears y/n ask if Tony booked water park tickets and gets super excited
→Vision is also confused but he sees everyone getting turnt over Disney World and decides that he is also excited-- Wanda momentarily stops being hyped up to ask him if he’s waterproof in which he goes into explicit detail about how yes, he is and he’ll show her if she’d like and she has to slap her hands over his mouth and tell him to hush
→Thor and Clint also turn into children but they’re the run around the room yelling types as opposed to the stand in a circle and scream types-- the gang is apparently just like fifteen children who barely manage to get things done apparently because they’re all hyped as fuck
→Clint sprints over to Nat whose hands are already up, ready to fight the man off because she knows what’s coming, but he’s too fast and too happy and uses all his assassin training to dodge her kick, grabbing her around the waist and spinning her around until she’s giggling and slapping his back
→“Natty we’re going to fucking Disney World!”
→“I know you lug, I heard Stark too. Let me down!”
→He doesn’t-- he just shakes her harder, cheering with the rest of them
→Thor slumps down next to his brother, nudging his shoulder-- “Migardians are strange”-- and Loki nods but pulls out his phone and starts looking up what’s actually at Disney World and-- “Look, brother, our home… wait is that us?”-- and the brothers get sucked into a rabbit hole of the Norwegian pavilion and whatever the hell the Frozen ride is and why their pictures are there
→It takes thirty minutes for everyone to calm down enough for them to actually have a conversation about what on earth Tony and Bruce and Sam did-- it takes another ten minutes after that for Stephen to finally break through the chatter to ask the most important question-- “Guys, seriously. You can ask about the plans after. The main question here is when are we going.”
→And Tony glances at Bruce and shrugs and is like “Tomorrow.”
→And they all erupt again-- y/n and Wanda because they have to pack and Stephen because normal people don’t just up and go on Vacation, you’re supposed to make time and Clint and Pietro because holy shit we’re going to Disney tomorrow!-- but Tony just brushes the worry off and reminds them-- again-- that they’re superheroes and that he’s a billionaire and that they can go on vacation whenever they damn want
→Cue fifteen more minutes of freaking out and y/n tackling Tony and then tackling Bruce and then, finally, tackling Sam who scoops her up and all but tosses her in the air before thanking her profusely for putting the idea in Tony’s brain
→They spend the next few minutes fangirling together-- Sam raves about all the food he’s going to eat-- Mickey bars, corn dogs, pretzels, those huge turkey legs-- and y/n talks about how she wants to get all the autographs she can-- especially Goofy and Pluto-- and then Sam mentions the After Dark Party and, like Bruce, she freaks out
→Finally Wanda has to split them up, grabbing y/n with one hand and hauling her over to the other redhead who’s still being held hostage by the resident archer and grabbing Nat with the other-- when Clint protests she curls her fingers, warning him with a pinch of red magic, and he holds his hands up, backing away slowly but telling Nat she’d better come see him before they leave
→On the way out Steve asks where they’re going and Wanda almost threatens him too until Nat tells him they’re going to pack for tomorrow-- he then turns to Bucky and reiterates the idea to a less than enthusiastic super soldier who tries to argue that I can pack in the morning but Steve just isn’t having it-- it takes five minutes but finally Buck agrees (but only after Steve says Bucky can just throw his stuff in his bag)
→The girls spend the rest of the night giggling and packing, holding up dresses and putting them down, shoving things in each other's bags and dancing to a playlist of oldies from Wanda’s phone-- Nat is the most boring packer but after some threats to get resident archer involved she gets her act together
→Pietro comes in when he’s done and Wanda scoffs at what he has packed but he only shrugs, slumping on y/n’s bed and giving her grabby hands until she rejoins him
→“But Pietro what if I forget something?”
→“You worry too much-- can’t Stange make portals?” He has a point
→What they all pack:
→Tony: Suits and graphic t-shirts. He’s either rolling up to Disney World in a Metallica t-shirt or a full three piece suit there’s no inbetween. He’s really not concerned about packing-- he can just buy whatever he needs there. After a text from y/n though he throws in a few pairs of shorts that he didn't even know he owned and his M.I.T. hoodie. He tops it off with a few gadgets he thinks he might need-- FRIDAY’s chip and some nanotech-- and he’s good to go. Billionaires don’t need to pack.
→Steve: Clothes and toiletries. Boring, basic, forgets swim trunks until he sees Bucky put his swim trunks and nothing else into Steve’s bag. That’s how he remembers most things actually; by looking at what Bucky doesn’t put into the bag. Along the way he suggests what the super soldier might want to pack while adding a few extra of his own just in case. After thinking about it for a few minutes he adds two books-- one for each of them. He also adds some tools-- a screwdriver and some pliers-- in case Bucky’s arm starts acting up. He’s sure Stark will have something but in case he doesn't, those will hold it over.
→Bucky: Swim trunks. And, when Steve begs, he grumbles and adds a few button downs and henleys. He also sneaks in a few knives, burying them in the henleys. He watches Steve pack for him though and leaves it at that-- what’s the point of packing when the super soldier can just do it for him? He’s not stupid-- he’s tired and Steve is fussy. He’ll have what he needs and if he doesn’t then he’ll just make y/n go swimming with him. Then he won’t need anything. Easy peasy.
→Nat: She’s the most level headed packer of the bunch, spare maybe Bruce and Sam. She Packs what she’ll need-- not too much and not too little. If anything she packs too many of Clint’s hoodies (three). Part of that, though, is her knowing that he’s probably going to forget one. She packs her normal toiletries, making sure to add an extra stick of deodorant and a bottle of Wanda’s red nail polish because-- despite the fact that she spends an hour watching Wanda pack her entire room-- she just knows that the woman forgot a bottle of that stuff and that she’ll be upset if her nails look chipped in the pictures. Wanda and y/n make her pack a bikini despite the fact that she has two scars from Bucky still and they threaten to get Clint involved if she tries to refuse-- “I suggest you put that little black number in that bag right now unless you want some aggressive compliments, you hear me woman?” She didn’t have to be told twice.
→Clint: Not as much as he should. Never as much as he should. He packs boxers, a pair of swim trunks, a few regular shirts and shorts (not enough), a couple nice shirts and a pair of jeans, and his toiletries. He’s gone longer with less but-- like-- he doesn’t have to this time? Nat walks into his room as he finishes packing and takes one look at his bag before marching to his closet and adding a hat, a pair of sunglasses, a jacket, a pair of sweatpants, and socks because who the hell doesn’t pack socks when they’re going to be walking around for days, how the hell are you an accomplished assassin Clint?
→Wanda: She literally packs as much as she can-- think the essentials times three and then some, like five different dresses, two leather jackets (even though y/n reminds her that Orlando is hot), her laptop and her ipad, two pairs of headphones. She has a notebook, a sketch book, and a regular book. Six bikinis and a one-piece. Three hats, four pairs of sunglasses, enough panties to last a month, let alone a week. She packs heels, boots, sneakers, flats, and sandals. Two purses and a backpack. Wanda Maximoff is the epitome of team mom-- anything Nat and y/n forget she’ll have it. She also packs a few things that she thinks Pietro will forget-- a few nice outfits for nights out and his main toiletries. Oh-- and sunscreen! Lots and lots of sunscreen!
→Pietro: Well, let's just say that it’s a good thing Wanda thinks to pack some things for Pietro because this man barely remembers his toothbrush let alone his phone charger. He gets the basics-- the bare necessities-- like three t-shirts, a pair of shorts, some (?) boxers, and like seven pairs of shoes because with how fast this man is he’s going to need them badly. He does, however, remember to pack his bathing suit and that’s more than a few people on the team can remember. Poor baby just wants to get there already-- he can just buy whatever he forgets.
→Vision: A very strange assortment of items. He doesn’t need clothes-- he can make whatever he would like appear on his body-- but he does want to feel included so Wanda gives him one of her backpacks and he puts like kind of random items into it. He sees a phone cord and shoves it in and like a hairbrush-- all items someone will need eventually but not him (later will find out that it’s the cord to Sam’s Iphone and will hand it over and have the audacity to say you’re welcome Samuel after doing it).
→Sam: He packs at least four ball caps. Nothing besides that really matters; he just knows how fucked you are if you don’t bring a hat and he’s bringing enough for the people who forget. As much as Bucky gets on his nerves he also packs him one. Besides that he packs normally-- t-shirts, shorts, shoes, socks, boxers-- all regular amounts. He freaks out a little when he can’t find his phone charger but he’ll just buy one when he gets there. He also brings a Polaroid camera and a shit ton of film-- some of his team members have never been and he will be documenting it all.
→Bruce: He’s the most boring packer and that isn’t a bad thing-- it’s the reason he has so many doctorates-- because he’s smart and level headed. He packs the clothes he needs with one extra of everything. He packs his toiletries. He doesn’t pack his whole room and he doesn’t pack nothing at all. He’s perfectly in the middle-- a Disney Dad™! He does, however, forget his swim trunks-- oops.
→Stephen: One backpack with a t-shirt, sweatpants, and swim trunks. That’s it. Why would he pack anything else? The man can open a portal whenever he needs! He’s always one step away from his bedroom! Stephen simply flicks his wrists and can change and rejoin the group in less time than it takes the rest of them to pull shit from their bags and wait for the washroom to free up. It’s actually a genius play.
→Loki: Despite being the most outwardly unenthusiastic he packs almost the exact same way that Wanda does. He’s a nervous packer. His brother laughs but, like, he has a point. Safe is better than sorry. It’s comical that he packs like five sweaters though considering that he can snap his fingers and make the sweater appear. All his clothes are either green or black. He packs at least one all black suit. Thor has to force him to add a red Hawaiian shirt and he scoffs at it and shoves it to the bottom. Definitely packs three pairs of swim trunks because he doesn’t like putting them one while they’re still wet. He doesn’t even know if he’s going to go swimming but he’s still doing it anyway. He also packs the scrunchie y/n gave him to keep his hair out of the way and when Thor tries to say shit about it he pulls a dagger from thin air and just chucks it. After dodging it Thor asks why don’t you just make your clothes appear the same way?
→Thor: Enough but, like, definitely not enough. The normal things but like less. He figures he’s going to be spending most of his time in his bathing suit anyway. Loki tries to remind him that he can’t go shirtless in the parks (he looked it up already) but he doesn't listen. It really is a good thing his brother can make things appear from thin air. He’s the type of guy to be content in a pair of flip flops and an open button down. He does, however, bring one of those dad-esque fanny packs and somehow he makes it look hot.
→Y/n: Literally packs the same as Wanda, if just a tad less. So many clothes that it’s insane. She, however, has the added bonus of her old Mickey ears-- a pink sequined pair that are a little worse from wear but still pretty. She packs a bucket hat to pin collectable pins to. She makes sure to leave extra room in her suitcase for souvenirs. She’s had her eye on the luxury bath salts from the Grand Floridian ever since the Disney Instagram posted them a few months ago and now that she’s going she won’t be leaving without them. She also packs the strapless dress she’s been meaning to wear for months now-- she doesn’t know who’s going to be there to admire it but she’s sure there’s at least one person who will. Besides, Nat’s been telling her to wear it for ages.
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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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Name: Thor made me promise...
Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader
Summary: there is a ball in Asgard that the Avengers (including the reader) are invited to, and Tony makes Stephen dance with the reader.
“You want us to do what?” you ask Tony again, not willing to believe your ears. Does Tony have wildest ideas? Always. Do you enjoy this specific one? Absolutely not.
“I want you to dance with him,” Tony points at Stephen and frowns. “Well... Thor wants you to. I am a messenger.”
“Why me?” Stephen sounds at the very least bored. You both have been called to the Avengers tower for an emergency meeting, and learning that its topic is checking how well you two can dance... Well, Tony is risking him limbs.
“You are the only two that will have to be presented to Asgardian society this time, and the only two that do not have a stable enough relationship to present there. Plus... I have never seen you dance, Doctor.”
“I am a part of the elite, Stark. I have both my MD and PhD, and do you really think I would not have to attend evenings where dancing was necessary for proper introduction and reputation?” Strange raises his eyebrow, trying to show how low he thinks of Tony right now. However, Stark’s ignorance of others is almost infuriating at times. Like right now.
“Fantastic then. You can teach Y/N,” you roll your eyes, refusing to move a limb.
“I am not going to dance, Tony.”
“Yes, you are. Thor said you have to know at least the basics,” Tony doesn’t even listen to you - his attention is fully focused on Strange and what he will say next. Stephen looks at you with a silent question in his eyes, then realizes that, if it won’t be him, Tony will probably try to teach you on his own (and fail due to not dancing that well himself and having some excessive pride).
“Fine,” Strange sighs and leaves his cape on the chair, facing you, then turns to Tony for a second. “If you use a video to blackmail either one of us, I will destroy you.”
“I would never,” but you both see Stark quickly lose some of his enthusiasm about this situation. To cover his discontent, Tony picks up his phone and turns on the waltz music, forcing you to walk towards Strange and stop, staring at the floor. You know Stark wants to stay (when else will he see you be a clutz while dancing?), but under Strange’s glare, he leaves, closing the door behind him. The pressue on you is slightly less but still... You hate it.
“It is alright,” you hear him chuckle, amused by the situation. “Dancing is very logical.”
“Yeah, very helpful. Thanks,” Stephen slowly takes your left hand and places it on his shoulder, then takes your right hand and lifts it a little, wrapping his fingers around your palm to reduce the trembling of his own fingers. For some reason, that calms you down a little.
“Now, just listen to the rhythm. One, two, three. One, two, three,” you nod at every word, and Stephen’s hand relaxes on your waist, the trembling calming down. “Step back from the left,” he carefully pulls you closer, forcing your leg back with his own, and you almost force yourself to do as he does. “Now turn,” he presses his hand against your back, making you turn around. “Step forward,” you take a step and momentarily see your mistake - wrong leg, and you bump into Stephen fast enough to almost trip.
“That is alright,” he pushes his palm up your back, making you straighten up. “Again, step forward.”
It takes you about an hour to learn to smoothly walk after him, but you both understand that it is because of the simple reason - Stephen guides your every step, pushing his hand into your back whenever you have to step forward (fingers or wrist, depending on what leg you should use), then moves it back a little, when he is about to step forward. His fingers are still trembling, but you have learned to see the difference between the two.
“That’s it, Y/N,” Strange smiles softly. “Very good,” Stephen stops the ‘lesson’ part and rests both hands on your waist.
“Why did you agree to this? I know you don’t want to dance with me.”
“Y/N,” Strange sighs. “Not everything is about you.” You feel your cheeks lit up with shame. “But this is. I like your company, and I will be happy to go to Asgard with you.”
“Almost got me,” you murmur, trying to hide that you don’t really know what to say. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” he takes a step back, and jokingly bows. “I will see you again tomorrow.”
“I can’t go into the godly society with a partner that can’t dance independently, can I?” you can feel the humor seething, but there is still something off. It was way way way too easy to convince the proud neurosurgeon to teach you to dance. But you still have tomorrow to figure it out.
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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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