#YES this is from my fucking... postcards from bleach
Text
ride em cowboy!!!!
#YES this is from my fucking... postcards from bleach#ITS YOUR BOY!#ashido kanou#!!!!#bleach#BET YOU DIDN'T EXPECT FILLER SHINIGAMI#BUT PEPPERRIDGE FARMS REMEMBERS#anyway he is VERY small at full resolution so here's a detail shot because#my god. just look at him#my wips#my art#LMAO#thinly veiled excuses to draw cowboys (but make it fandom)
95 notes
·
View notes
Text
New Year, New Friends, II
@thadelightfulone @mszrenee @woahitslucyylu @badgalbrix1 @supersizemeplz @idont-know-shit @ladymac82 @xsweetdellzx @chaneajoyyy
Erik watched the bedroom door close behind Mercedes as she closed herself into Aly's room, their low voices muffled. Aly was a true daddy's girl but there were some things she preferred not to share with him and that was cool. Onto his youngest, Delonte. Erik flipped on his bedroom light.
"You up here playing 2K, you can play that anytime it's New Years Eve! Turn that off and spend some time with your family!" It was dope that Delonte loved his gift so much but he was more focused on that game than his family.
"Fifteen more minutes," he tapped at his controller too focused to turn around. "...Please," he tacked on feeling Erik's parental glare on his back. He kissed his teeth. "You know mom ain't gone let me play if I take it over her house."
"If you'd do what the fuck you supposed to instead of running your mouth.. You know if I ever hear it I'm a shove my size 12 foot up ya ass."
Delonte's shoulders dropped as he angled away to the TV dismissively. He was mouthing something smart.
"Huh?" Erik's brow rose challenging the back of his stubborn son's head.
"Nothing," Delonte responded carefully.
"Better be nothing," Erik palmed the top of Delonte's head and tilted it back looking into his face. The boy was his twin whereas Diamante looked like Khia.
"Dad it's MAMBA, you gone disrespect MAMBA?"
"That's a family man," Erik smirked rubbing through his son's hair. "Something I'ma school you on."
"Please! Fifteen minutes. Please please please."
"Hm.. Fifteen. Don't make me come get you," Erik threatened leaving his son to his game. Downstairs, Erik went to the living room to find that Diamante was pulling on his sneakers prepping to head out to a party with a few of his friends and Khia was helping him by rearranging his bleached dreds into two braids going back. Erik couldn't say anything about it... Diamante had only stuck around to see his big sister but now that she was upstairs and it didn't look like she was coming back, he was leaving. Erik handed him a 50 dollar bill from his wallet.
"You got the keys? You got ya license?... Condoms?" He whispered it subtly and Diamante nodded, no need to play dumb. "Be safe. Call me for anything, I do mean anything." Diamante was almost 18 and very responsible but Erik knew for a fact.. shit happens especially on New Years.
Closing him out, Erik turned to Khia who was standing there looking like a meal. They had three kids together because he couldn't keep his hands to himself and she let him get it raw however he wanted it whenever he wanted it.
"..Why we ain't work out again?" His eyes scanned her humored face as he stood directly in front of her, taking in her face and her shape. They'd tried multiple times to be together but for some reason..
"We're different people," she smiled grabbing his hands ".. and besides.. I'm dating Drew." With that she walked off to the mini bar to grab a glass of wine while Erik followed.
"Drew or no Drew you always gonna be mine, that'll never change." He lifted her chin in his grip sitting the half-full glass back down. They both knew it was true, which was why she gave up the lips so freely and kissed him back. It was never just the fact that they had kids or else they wouldn't keep making more kids. She would've dropped them off and kept rolling. Right when he was about to make his move and pin her pretty lil ass to the wall, he heard her back pocket ring. "Don't answer it," he mumbled into her neck as he lifted her thigh and she didn't. She let it ring.
"DAAAAD," Erik heard Aly's voice calling from the living room. It was tempting to stay hidden in the liquor room. Khia had the fatty.. He was past due for it and in the mood. "DADDYYYY.."
Khia broke the kiss. "That's your cue," she smiled against his lips pulling back to grab her wine glass with a smirk in her eyes. She was teasing him. He sighed with an eyeroll. He could've had her. He still could...
"DAAAD."
"This ain't over," he muttered before lifting his pitch to yell "I'm coming Pumpkin." It made Khia laugh. She laughed at him a lot, but she was the same way with Diamante, he loved his mama more than life and between Erik and Khia he'd pick Khia every time. She babied him just like he babied his baby girl. She pat Erik on the back pushing him from the room. "Pumpkin," Erik called.
"Where'd everyone go," Aly asked when Erik appeared. Poor baby looked so lost and disappointed.
"Your mom's at the minibar, Delonte's upstairs. He should be down in a few minutes. Diamante is gone. He to a party with his friends.. he wanted to wait until he saw you before leaving."
"What? Damn, I'm a call him."
"Aw yeah, call him," Mercedes pushed, sneaking a brief glance at Erik which he caught. Her demon eyes flashed with a dark intention that made his dick twitch, he was already craving the wet heat of walls that sneaking off with Khia before hadn't provided. Maybe the second time would be the charm.
Producing her cell, Aly dialed Diamante to apologize. They were very close afterall despite their fighting.
"Guess it's just us," Mercedes smirked deviously. "About that mini bar.."
"Drink of choice?"
"Something with tequila?"
"Tequila's got a lot of benefits but I'm sure you know that," Erik smiled leading her to his minibar. On the way they passed Khia who was on the phone with Drew it sounded like. "Giving the kids tequila," he whispered loudly before squeezing her ass in the hall. Drew was blind if he thought all that was his.
She smacked at him playfully mouthing "get away from me."
"Get Delontae off that game," Erik whispered. She smiled with a roll of her eyes shoo'ing him on her way towards Aly. He watched her ass as she walked until Mercedes stepped in front of him, arms crossed. Pushing him into his liquor room, she closed the door.
"Now that she's gone."
"Nah," he opened it back. "Keep it open."
"You so scareddd..," Mercedes smirked as she slung her arms around Erik's neck, "Relax. They won't notice.. They're all hung up on other th-"
"What's your intention with Aly tho, why you round her," Erik wondered staring through her. She shrugged.
"What can I say, she's the PB, I'm th-."
"You fulla shit."
Mercedes eyes widened as she was taken aback. "Me and Aly study together, party together, talk-"
"Bullshit"
"No. We talk about our families, and share secrets.. like she know I like older men."
"She know, what do you mean she know..," Erik tested studying Mercedes with scrutiny.
"Not about us, just my kinks. I only told her her daddy was fine one time when I saw the family postcard. Was I jealous? Yes, but that's all I said.... I ain't ever had no family postcard," she added.
"You ain't had a lot of shit." Again, Erik couldn't picture not providing the very best for his kids despite any disagreements with Khia and they'd had plenty. It reminded him briefly of why they weren't together. "Listen," he wispered grabbing her face and she did. "If you using my daughter then I'm a use these big strong hands.. mhm.." he could see she liked the pressure, "..and I'm a break your arms.. boffum." He nodded her chin for her before pecking her on the lips. "I'm a snap em like twigs.. Don't be nervous," he whispered stroking her cheek. He could feel the tension. "If it ain't you, you ain't gotta worry." He could see her checking out the circumference of his biceps and the strength of his hands. "Got something you wanna tell me?"
She pulled his hands to her neck, pressing them into her skin and rolling her head back with an easy smile. It wasn't nerves he was seeing, he gathered.
"Cutie..." Erik used his thumb to tap on her neck, voice low. "Put me right here.."
He watched as she dropped instantly to her knees unzipping his pants to fish out his semi-hard dick. His eyes flickered to the empty doorway and back. She grinned up at him once she felt it, like a troll on treasure. Using both hands to grip it, she stroked it up and squeezed the base before enveloping the head in her warm wet mouth, grazing his lips over it until he got hard bit by bit.
He raised the hem of his shirt liking the feel of her fingernails dragging down his abs.. time wouldn't permit too much of it though. He had to take his dick back and hit it on her lips, pulling it out of her mouth when she put her lips around it the exact same way. He tapped a finger on her throat.. the same spot he'd tapped before. "Here."
This time, he felt her lips go to the shaft and her eyes closed as she focused on taking him deeper. She couldn't get it where he pointed but to he fair, neither could Khia or the women he'd been with outside of that. Still, he liked to make them try..
"Choke on it." He ordered holding her head firmly on place as she tried her best. He loved that she was willing. He let her off of it to breath and kissed her sloppy little mouth in reward. She liked that, making the choice to try it again on her own. She looked up at him with watery eyes the entire time, rubbing on his stomach. She really liked to play on his abs.
He kept his eyes on hers though he felt like one of his kids would walk by at any moment. Mercedes must have felt it too because she upped the tongue work and swirled her entire mouth on the head of his dick at the same time like a carwash. He balled his fists and steadied himself planting his feet like roots in the floor. She was at level 1 of of the glyuck glyuck and accelerating.. Getting too loud with it though. It sounded sexy and messy and felt divine, but the pronounced slurping and small moaning..
"You doing too much with all that extra sound." It was a thought Erik never thought he'd have. Her lashes fluttered.
"I can't help it," she blinked up with tear-stained cheeks and a firm suck like he was the best tootsie pop, it made him wanna grab her head again and teach her something new. "It's so pretty and thick."
"Mhm." She definitely knew how to hype a nigga. She wasn't wrong though. "Make me buss, baby. Take that shit."
He needed her to hurry and not drag it out. He felt like he could cum easy if she didn't play edging games. She kept smiling up at him with innocent eyes.. enjoying the changes in his expression. He was already cumming and she was wasn't a spitter.
She looked offended when he reclaimed his dick and fixed himself, but what did she expect, to fuck around all damn night? He had a family. He moved to his bar to mix her something that would ease her, let her know he wasn't cold to her. Afterall, she was someone's child.. not his.. but someone's. She watched as he prepped it, her slick hands trying to reach for the dick again. She hadn't wiped her mascara from her cheeks.. it was another turn on.
"No," he said softly, but stern.. He nudged her hand away. "Tequila sunrise," he smiled scooting it toward her. That's what she'd requested afterall. "Chill.. Drink that," he redirected brushing her fingers again when she reached for his zipper. She couldn't keep her hands to herself and it would be a good thing if he weren't the same way. One of them had to have restraint. He poured himself a quick splash of Hennessy, clinking her glass with his. "To the new year."
Immediately her hands were on him again. He looked at them and back to her face like she was out of her mind.
"And new friends," she smiled rubbing his bicep. Erik looked to the door and thought about it.. if he listened carefully he could hear if someone were coming up the hall. He looked her in the eye.. deliberating. What kinda excuse could they have for being gone so long?
"Get on your knees. Hurry up," he nodded. By the time she dropped again, his zipper was down and he was fishing out his dick. It was hard again. She wasted no time sucking it. "This is fucked up," he muttered to himself getting a wicked smile from Mercedes in return. "You toxic.. thriving off this shit.."
She giggled, locked into her motion. She had it down, her eyes still locked on his. Erik's eyes stayed on hers but his ears were on the hall.. and then the moment came. He heard movement. Without pause, he snatched his spit bubbled dick back into his pants and zipped them, adjusting his shirt as Mercedes got to her feet and wiped her mouth. By the time Aly appeared in the doorway, he had his glass in hand and a somber expression full of pity aimed at Mercedes who was still wiping her mouth, eyes, and nose.
"I'm so sorry that happened to you, but we're all here for you," he said causing Mercedes to squint as if he could've come up with better. With more time to think, he would've.
"Aww Mercedes what's wrong, you were crying?"
That was Erik's lil Pumpkin always considerate. He hated to play on it, but the way he saw it he had no choice. Aly went straight to hug her friend with Mercedes hugging her back, head on Aly's shoulder.
"I think sometimes you just need someone without a bias to share with, someone who doesn't know you or the people involved," Erik offered getting the cold stare from Mercedes over Aly's shoulder. She'd have to make something up on her own. Erik looked dead in her eyes as he took another sip of Hennessy to ease his nerves before excusing himself from the room. He needed a quiet place to finish himself off.
#original#erik killmonger#killmonger#erik killmonger fanfiction#erik stevens#black panther killmonger#erik killmonger smut
53 notes
·
View notes
Text
masterpost ☀️ main masterlist ☀️ taglist
previously on...
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?"
Taglist: @couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox @secretly-a-weeb @stuckybarton
#practical alchemy#bun writes#tony stark x reader#stephen strange x reader#tony stark x you#stephen strange x you#tony stark x y/n#stephen strange x y/n#tony stark x reader x stephen strange#stephen strange x reader x tony stark#fun fact: ironstrange x reader was the ship that blocked the suez canal#source: me im the most reliable
35 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
windlylink
Wind-yeeting Toony
viger59
Без названия
xhoneyxlemonxx
Glow up with me ✨
blackcockpiggy
Black-Cock-Piggy