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daydreamtofiction · 2 years

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The Feature XV // Benedict Cumberbatch x Reader

Series Overview | Previous Part | Next Part

Chapter Summary: It’s Christmas Day and you’re supposed to be spending it alone. But when there’s an unexpected knock at the door, your night takes an interesting turn.

Chapter Word Count: 4.6K

Chapter Warnings: Morally-grey reader (you’re gonna fucking hate her after this one lmao sorry), strong language, brief mention of pregnancy loss/infertility (not Quinn), verbal fighting & arguing, smoking, alcohol consumption, explicit sexual descriptions, smut: semi-somewhat-maybe toxic sex, ‘quickie’, hair pulling, spanking. Readers must be 18+

A/N: Don't set alcohol on fire pls.

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You woke with no idea of the time, stretching out your body with a satisfied groan before settling back into the mattress with a smile. It was your Christmas present to yourself; a blissful, comfortable, undisturbed lie in, and it had been entirely worth it.

You wandered barefoot around your flat, taking your time in the bathroom and forgoing breakfast for a glass of Buck's Fizz, sipping on it as you tore into the gifts your parents had left for you on the day they made their impromptu visit. There was the body lotion your mother bought for you every year, the scarf you would probably never wear, and the book with the handwritten message inside. It was all perfect, reminding you of home, and it almost made you wish you weren't spending the day alone.

They loved you. Sometimes too much. Growing up, your parents loved you so much they could have suffocated you with it, tethered you to them with concern. You were born after two miscarriages, and another three losses followed before they finally gave up trying for any more children. Which meant you were it. You were all they had, all they would ever have. So much so that even the thought of you spending Christmas by yourself, even as a fully grown woman, had filled them with so much guilt that they'd travelled all the way into London just to see you before they went away.

The sky was battling with itself; a constant cycle of rain and sleet sliding down your windows, heavy wind battering against the string of lights you'd hung outside. You were thankful you didn't have to go anywhere, much preferring the view from beneath the comfort of a warm blanket.

The momentary loneliness had quickly passed after a few cocktails, and by mid afternoon you had watched two of your favourite Christmas films and made a start on the novel your parents had bought for you. You glanced down at your phone to see a text from Nick, a Merry Christmas and another reminder that there was a place for you at his family's table for dinner. It reminded you of your last conversation with your parents before they left.

You were too busy looking at the armchair, your mind wandering back to what you'd been doing in it just moments before they arrived. You hadn't even registered your father's voice until he called your name again.

"Quinnie?"

You shook your head and blinked a few times. "Hm?"

"Dinner?" he asked again.

"Oh, yeah sorry. I er, I'll be eating with friends," you lied.

"Really?" He sounded sceptical. Not sceptical of where you would be eating for Christmas, but of the notion that you had friends at all.

You rolled your eyes. "Yes, really. A friend of mine from work. His name's Nick, I've mentioned him before."

They both smiled at you.

"We're not together," you said bluntly.

"Oh leave us alone," said your mother. "You know we just want to see you happy and in love and-"

"Knocked up so you can finally have grandchildren?" you finished sarcastically.

"It would be nice..."

You shook your head and let out a laugh.

"Surely there's got to be someone special in your life," she pressed.

"Yeah actually, there is. You know the guy from my magazine thing? He was just here; I snuck him out when you first arrived."

"Oh Quinnie," she rolled her eyes. "Must you always be so sarcastic?"

The bad weather had made the sun set even earlier than usual, the string of lights outside barely hanging on as they began to twinkle in the darkness. You stood up and walked to the window, looking out over London with a slight smile, imagining all the drinks, songs, children playing with new toys, fathers in paper crowns falling asleep in armchairs.

You were somehow more than okay with being on the outside of it all; happy to picture it from the quiet comfort of your flat instead of sitting amongst it waiting for it to be over.

Nick had sent you photos of his dinner, his plate overflowing with food while you ate cheese and crackers, downed another homemade cocktail. You were in heaven, legs tucked under you, laptop on the arm of the couch as you cracked your knuckles dramatically, preparing to start working on your new pitch for Draft's April issue.

But your glass was empty, the crackers making your mouth feel dry, and it was bothering you.

You let out a huff and forced yourself up, taking your glass into the kitchen as your phone pinged once again. You opened Nick's message to see a picture of a Christmas pudding engulfed in vivid blue flames.

Watch your eyebrows.

You pressed send, putting your phone down on the counter and taking a bottle of rum out of the cupboard.

Then you saw the box of matches on the side, the picture of Nick's pudding flashing into your mind. You looked down at the bottle, then back to the matches, the devil on your shoulder pondering if your rum was high enough proof to make a flaming shot.

A sudden knock at the door interrupted your stupidity before you could act on it, snapping you back into your body as if the thoughts hadn't even been yours at all. You put the bottle down and walked to the front door, glancing through the peephole and breaking into a smile at the unexpected sight.

"You just caught me before I made a very bad decision..." you said as you opened the door.

"I struggle to recall ever catching you in the middle of a good one," Ben teased, stepping into your flat and taking off his coat.

"Does that include sleeping with you?"

He smiled. "Of course. Worst decision you've made so far."

You giggled, taking his coat and hanging it up before turning back to him eagerly, your fingers immediately hooking into the waistband of his trousers as you rose on your tiptoes to kiss his neck.

But he pulled away with a gentle laugh. "Not yet."

"Why not?"

"I just got here."

"So? I seem to remember turning up at your house and having you inside me before I'd even taken my coat off."

"I've changed since then."

"It was last week."

He laughed through his nose, his smile creating deep lines around his mouth. "I just thought we could spend some time together first, that's all. Break your 'just sex' rule for one night."

"Why?" you asked suspiciously.

"It's Christmas. I didn't want you to be alone on Christmas."

You narrowed your eyes at him.

"I'm being serious," he said.

"What about your family?"

"I just got back from spending all day with them. Left my mum and dad tucked up drinking sherry in front of the fire."

"Oh how festive," you said, turning on your heels and heading back towards the kitchen.

"Speaking of festivities," he said.

You turned to see him rummaging in his coat pocket before pulling out a colourfully wrapped box.

"Merry Christmas," he finished, walking towards you and placing it in your hand.

"Gifts? We're doing gifts now?"

He laughed, following you as you made your way into the kitchen. "Do you want it or not?"

"Well obviously yes," you replied bluntly, hopping up to sit on the edge of the counter.

He smirked, walking up and standing between your parted legs, watching as you tore it open.

Beneath the paper was a stone-coloured velvet box, fancy scripture embossed in the centre. You lifted the lid slowly, forgetting to take a breath when you laid eyes on the most beautiful gold watch you'd ever seen.

"What the fuck..."

"What?" he asked. "Do you not like it?"

You were speechless, moving your lips and hoping the words would come, but they didn't.

He smiled and gave a casual shrug. "I just thought since you made that snarky comment about my watch-"

"I can't accept this."

"Why not?"

"Because this... this- this is not the kind of thing you give to someone you practically just met. I mean, we're not even- and this-"

"It's fine, Quinn. Honestly. I just wanted to do something nice for you. Really, it's just a token."

"A token?" you scoffed, almost spluttering as you stared up at him with wide eyes. "A... a bath set, a box of chocolates, those are tokens. This... This is..." You pushed him gently out of the way and jumped down, taking the box into the living room with you. "I'll tell you what this is. This is... insane, it's too much."

He followed you, standing in the doorway as you sat down on the couch, pulling your laptop closer and beginning to type.

"If you don't like it then you can just tell me," he said. "I won't be offended-"

You let out a shriek and shot up onto your feet. "Thirty. Thousand. Pounds!?"

He furrowed his brow. "You seriously looked it up!?"

"Oh my god." You began pacing the floor. "Why the hell would you go and spend thirty grand on a fuck buddy!? Jesus Christ, Ben! I mean, what do your girlfriends get? Cars? Houses?"

"Quinn," he laughed softly, as if he truly couldn't understand your reaction. "Stop reading into it. I had them send a few pieces and I chose one I thought you'd like. I didn't even look at the price-"

"Oh my god! You didn't even look-" You laughed in disbelief. "This is it, isn't it. This is the difference between us that I was talking about. Thirty grand, Ben! That really is just pocket money to you isn't it?"

"That's not fair." He rolled his eyes. "Alright, yes I make a lot of money, but that doesn't mean it has no value to me. Do you know how hard I've worked to get to a place in life where I don't have to look at the price tag?"

"Yes and that's wonderful for you, Merry Christmas, congrats on all the cash-"

He scoffed.

"But do you not see how spending this much money on me could make me feel like-"

"Don't say like I'm paying you for sex-"

"Like shit, Ben. I was going to say like shit. Because I can't return the favour."

"I don't expect you to return the favour. I expect you to... put the bloody watch on."

"No!"

"For christ's sake, Quinn."

"No. I'm not accepting it, I can't."

"Yes you are."

"No I'm fucking not."

"Well I'm not taking it back, so..."

You stopped pacing and let out a loud, irritated growl. "Why are you so insistent on being nice to me!?"

He laughed in disbelief, brows coming together over his eyes. "Are you hearing yourself right now!?"

"Yes! And that's not- ugh, it came out wrong. I meant why aren't you accepting my non-acceptance of your gift!?"

"Because it's just that: A gift!"

"An extravagant gift! A ridiculous gift!"

"Stop saying the word gift."

"Oh I'm sorry, am I annoying you?"

"Yes, actually, you are annoying me. Now get in the bedroom."

"Why on earth would I do that?"

"Because, you want to shout at me for buying you a nice gift?" he began, his jaw clenched in irritation. "You might as well do it while taking your clothes off. It's called multitasking."

"What happened to 'let's spend some time together first'?" you asked, imitating his voice.

"That was before you chose to spend that time fighting with me."

"This isn't a fight. It's a discussion."

"Could've fooled me."

"It's not a fight. Because people who are just sleeping together don't fight. Just like they don't buy each other extortionately priced-"

He rolled his eyes and walked off while you were in the middle of speaking.

You stood there for a moment as you listened to the bedroom door open and close, seething to yourself and glancing down at the watch one more time before marching after him.

You stepped into the bedroom and slammed the door, harder than you had meant to, but you couldn't admit it. He was standing near your bed, lifting his jumper over his head, seemingly unfazed by your aggressive entrance.

You took in a sharp breath. "Do you-"

He glanced up at you with a hard, unimpressed expression, like he wasn't going to tolerate your shouting.

You took another breath, a slower, softer breath, and calmed your voice down. "Do you realise how hard it is to be involved with someone like you?" you began, joining him in his undressing by removing your top. "How I have to calculate my every move to make sure I'm not coming off like some gold digging slut who's just after your fame and money?"

He threw his jumper to the floor and began to unbutton his trousers, looking over at you as you slid down your own pants.

"Then you go and slap thirty grand in front of me," you finished.

"I didn't slap thirty grand in front of you. I gave you a Christmas present. Take your underwear off."

You huffed and reached back to unhook your bra, slipping it down your arms and throwing it in his direction. His refusal to let you win had laced your annoyance with an undeniable arousal; the way he glared at you from the across the room as you stood there angry, bare, exposed, how he'd stripped himself naked while ordering you to do the same, like he was going to have you whether you stopped berating him or not.

You soon ended up on the bed, lying on your back as his mouth travelled over your breasts, tongue dancing over your nipples before trailing down over your ribs.

"What were you expecting me to do? Really?" you asked, his kisses peppering your stomach as you continued to reprimand him. "You thought I'd open it and everything would just be all rainbows and love hearts and oh wow this is so amazing!"

He rolled his eyes, leaving a soft bite on your hip before beginning to move back up your body.

"I mean, how the fuck is anyone supposed to feel comfortable walking around with thirty grand on their wrist anyway!?" You felt his lips on your neck, the heat of his breath making you tremble. "That's over a year's worth of rent, Ben-"

"Flip over onto your knees."

The way he ignored you was infuriating, but you'd gathered by now that that was the point. He knew he was driving you mad, he also knew there was a part of you that found it incredibly sexy.

You rolled onto your stomach, rising to your hands and knees and glancing over your shoulder at him. "If you think this is going to make me stop having a go at you-"

"I don't think this is going to make you stop having a go," he interrupted, spitting on his fingers and spreading his saliva over your already wet centre.

You shivered at the contact, the slight grazing of his fingertips on your clit, the feeling of his cock nudging you as he shifted his body closer.

"I've simply decided that instead of arguing back, I'm just going to fuck you."

You opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off by pushing himself into you, sheathing his entire length inside you to the hilt with a quiet groan.

You gasped at the stretch, the sudden fullness. "Prick," you muttered.

He brought a hand down on your arse, the sting making you gasp again.

"See," he said.

He took your hips in his hands, grasping them firmly as he began to thrust in a steady rhythm, each crash of your bodies sending a shockwave through your core.

"I just don't get how you can't see my point of view," you said breathlessly, your words disjointed, each thrust knocking the air out of your lungs. "A month. I've known you for a month."

His grip tightened on your hips, fingertips digging into your flesh. You let out a moan as he drove himself into you, hard and deep, bracing yourself by flattening your palms against the headboard.

"Plus," you gasped. "You shouldn't be buying me things at all."

He growled, taking a fistful of your hair and pulling on it, bringing you up against him, your back curved, his lips to your ear.

"I have the money," he said through gritted teeth. "I spend it how I want."

You could barely breathe, your head tilted all the way back as he buried himself in you.

"This year, I spent some of it on you," he continued. "So either say 'thank you', or shut up."

He let go of your hair and you fell forward, your chest pressed against the bed, face buried in the pillows. The moan that poured out of you was like a white flag; a declaration of surrender, your way of admitting that he had won without actually having to say the words.

And it was clear he understood as he slowed his pace slightly, like he was savouring the way you felt around him, relieved to hear pleasure spill from your mouth instead of conflict, proud of his ability to leave you well and truly speechless. He groaned as he pulled almost all the way out of you before sinking down again, and you joined him with a desperate whimper, rolling your hips like you couldn't get enough, like no amount of him would ever be enough.

You felt his fingernails dragging down the curve of your back, his hand coming down to deliver another hard spank to your backside. You hummed in pleasure, your walls tensing around him, enough to elicit a deep, rich moan from his throat.

He came inside you, breath hissing through his teeth, hips stilling as he leaned over you to grip the top of the headboard. You felt him bring his other hand down, snaking it around you to work his fingers over your clit as he remained buried in you, staying there until he felt you begin to come undone, an orgasm ripping through you before you even had the chance to feel it coming.

You allowed your knees to give way beneath you, dropping onto your stomach and lying there breathless as he rolled onto the bed beside you. You turned your head to look at him, watching as he lay there with his eyes closed, face glistening with sweat, chest rising and falling heavily.

"Thank you," you finally muttered, your tone reluctant, brattish.

He turned his head to look at you, not speaking as his eyes met yours. But the silence didn't last long, the pair of you soon breaking into a quiet laugh.

"Merry Christmas," he replied sarcastically, making you laugh even more.

You rolled onto your side as you watched him get up, pulling on his trousers and leaving them unbuttoned, loose around his hips as he wandered around the room.

"Are you leaving?" you asked.

"Do you want me to leave?"

You shook your head, too stubborn to actually say the word 'no' out loud.

"Then I won't leave." He smiled, like it was the most simple choice in the world.

"Why are you getting dressed then?"

"Because I need a cigarette." He scooped up his jumper from the floor, pulling it over his head as he made his way out of the room. You lay there for a moment, calm, content, until you heard the rustling of his coat in the hall. You climbed out of bed and threw your clothes back on, stepping out of the room in time to find him reaching for the front door.

"You don't have to go all the way downstairs," you said. "I've got a balcony."

"You do?" he asked curiously, throwing down his hood and following you into the living room.

His mouth pressed into a straight line as he watched you open a set of french doors, beyond them a flimsy, metal railing wrapped in Christmas lights, the space so shallow it could barely fit a plant pot, let alone his six foot frame.

"Balcony," he laughed.

You rolled your eyes. "I live in central London on a staff writer's salary. What did you expect?"

It was dark and bitterly cold, your breaths fogging in front of your faces as you stood together in the doorway, looking out over the city. He took a packet of cigarettes from his coat pocket and slipped one between his lips, glancing at you as he lit it.

"It was for a film," he said, blowing out a plume of moonlit smoke. "I only tend to do it nowadays if it's for a role. Finding it harder to pack it in this time around though, not sure why."

You crossed your arms over your chest, shielding yourself from a cold gust of wind.

"Thought I'd get away with quitting before you found out," he added with a subtle smile.

"I had a feeling you smoked," you said. "Can smell it on you sometimes, only a little bit though. I don't really mind it."

He leaned back against the door frame, taking another drag with hollowed cheeks before turning his head to the side, trying not to blow smoke in your direction. You were staring up at him, wondering how he was so able to snap you out of a mood, to stop you from wanting to throttle him, make you forget why you were even angry to begin with.

But then you looked over at the couch, the stone-coloured box still sitting on the arm next to your laptop, and bit your lip.

"Can we talk about anything other than the watch?" he said, cutting you off before you'd even began. It was as if he could read your mind. He was strangely good at reading your mind. "Literally anything else."

You huffed, tightening your arms around yourself. "Like what?"

"I don't know, anything. Thoughts, feelings, opinions, life experiences?"

"Hm."

"Like... You could tell me why you wanted to be a journalist."

"I don't know. Why did you want to be an actor?"

He shook his head and laughed. "You really hate talking about yourself, don't you."

"I don't hate it." You shrugged. "I'm just... I'm a journalist, I like to ask the questions."

"This," he gestured to your surroundings. "Isn't an interview, Quinn. We're just talking."

You gave a reluctant sigh. "Alright, well, I didn't originally want to be a journalist. I wanted to be a playwright." You paused, laughing to yourself. "Thought I was going to be the next Pinter or Beckett or something."

He smiled. "What changed?"

"I don't really know," you replied softly, contemplatively. "I picked up my first magazine as a teenager and was just... sold. I imagined all the amazing things I'd get to write, places I'd go, people I'd get to meet." You looked up at him. "One day I might go back to it; try my hand at writing a play. But I'd like to at least conquer this career before moving onto the next one."

He chuckled, smoke escaping through his nostrils.

"What's it like," you said softly. "To have... made it?"

He paused for a moment. "Surreal... Terrifying... Validating... Confusing… Not only do I love what I do, but there are people out there who actually think I'm good at it too. I still pinch myself."

You smiled.

"I just sometimes wish I could switch off the fame, for maybe an hour or two here and there," he added.

"Wait, you're famous!?" you gasped, pretending to be shocked.

"Piss off," he laughed. You grinned and leaned back against the doorframe, mirroring his position and looking up at the night sky.

"Feels like you've switched off the fame right now," you said.

"Maybe that's why I like coming here so much."

"To my flat?"

"Mhm."

You paused. "No other reason you might like coming here...?"

He smirked and looked down at you, but he didn't speak. Neither of you spoke. Instead you both stood there in silence, eyes locked, smiles melting into much more serious expressions.

You broke eye contact first, clearing your throat and walking back through the living room. "Can you er, can you have a drink or are you driving?"

He dropped his head and breathed out a laugh. "Was that your very subtle way of telling me I'm not welcome to spend the night?"

"No!" you answered quickly. "No you… Of course you can stay. I just didn't think you'd want to. Y'know, with it being Christmas and all, I just thought you'd have better ways you'd want to spend it than here with me."

He didn't respond, mostly because you didn't give him a chance as you walked off into the kitchen with a laugh and a casual shrug.

The bottle of rum was still on the side where you'd left it, your phone still lying screen down on the counter. You took two glasses out of the cupboard and bent down to get ice from the freezer when you suddenly felt Ben come up behind you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and you smiled to yourself as you stood up straight, expecting him to press his body against your back, kiss your neck, tease you until you were ready for him to have you again. But he didn't. Instead he turned you around to face him, taking the glasses out of your hands and putting them down on the counter.

You stared up at him as he took your face in his hands, pulling you into the deepest, most tender and heartfelt kiss you'd ever shared. It created a yearning in your chest, made you not want to undress him, but instead bring your arms up to wrap around his neck, to keep him close.

"Quinn," he mumbled against your lips.

"Mhm?" you hummed back.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked as you continued to kiss him.

“Mhm.”

He broke away, resting his forehead against yours. "There's nowhere else I've wanted to be all day besides here with you." He swallowed gently, like he was collecting himself. "Honestly, there's nowhere else I ever want to be."

You gazed up into his eyes as he remained forehead to forehead with you, his hands stroking through you hair.

"This... This is more than 'just sex' for me." He paused. "It's more than that."

You stayed quiet, barely able to breathe.

"I know that's not what you wanted, and I thought I could handle it. But-" he sighed. "I can't pretend it doesn't kill me a little bit every time I wake up in my bed to find you've already left, or when your parents turn up unexpectedly and instead of being introduced, I get shoved behind a bedroom door-"

"Ben..."

"Or when you say my name like that, and I know it's going to be followed up with a list of reasons why we're too different to work."

You sighed.

He leaned in, capturing you in another kiss. It was intense, slow, so full of emotion you could feel yourself slipping, falling for him.

"Ben," you whispered against his lips.

But he continued to kiss you, and in that moment you knew it would be so easy to lose yourself in him completely.

"Ben," you whispered again, this time forcing yourself to pull back slightly, foreheads touching again, noses grazing each other. You looked up at him, feeling your eyes beginning to water, a lump forming in your throat. You knew it might actually kill you to let the next six words leave you, but something made you say them anyway.

"I think you need to go..." Your voice was soft, wavering, barely audible.

He stared down at you, like he wasn't surprised, but it didn't hurt any less to hear you say it. He paused for a moment, as if he were going to resist you, fight you, but then he closed his eyes, letting out a quiet breath.

"Okay."

You reached up and cupped his cheek.

"Okay," he whispered again, taking your hand and moving it away from his face.

You stood there, frozen, as you watched him walk out of the kitchen, your hand instinctively coming up to your mouth, fingers pressing to your lips. You could still taste his kiss, feel his fingerprints on your skin, but the warmth of him was gone and you could hardly bear it.

What had you done?

*Reader Tag List: @blondekel77 @evelynrosestuff @bakerstreethound @annesthaeticc @aephereal @sharp-cheekbones-locked @sherlux @veryladyqueen @graciebear47 @allurenia @jamerlynn @cottagecore-cat @aysamuka @thegardenerofeden @cumbercatchmebaby @inspirationalandrandom @turkisherlockian @swds @weepingdreamerpanda @elzabethann @childofgod215 @briecantopme @lovecleastrange @jaspearl31 @paola-carter @greatburger @azu21 @xourownsidee @hunterofshadows04 @asgardianprincess1050 @teddycrimson @sherlocksgirl91 @oliveoilthoughts @hai-kbai @shjl15 @bloodyxsaint @charleighsblog @stephenstrangeaddictions @omgstarks @sleutherclaw @bisciwri @theevilsupreme @druggedbyfiction @gwoods123 @classickook @coffee-d0t @strangeobsessed @januarycolor @strangeions @lonadane @downtownshabby

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aephereal · 2 years

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Needy // Benedict Cumberbatch x OC (Teaser) 18+

Concept from my bestie @marvel-writing 🤍

“Ben, don’t tease me, please. I just-” He pushed her into the counter, slipping his hands under her bum to pull her up onto the surface.

“I just want to taste you, baby, just for a minute.” After breaking away to speak, he was eager to reattach their mouths, cradling her jaw in his hand as he tipped her head back to reach further into her mouth.

A moan forced its way out of Jenna as she bucked her hips up to meet Ben’s, feeling now that he was fully hard underneath the constricting material of his jeans.

“Can we go upstairs? Please? I want you to have me properly.” Benedict nodded.

“Yeah? Want me to properly fuck you into the mattress, pretty girl?” Jenna nodded, resting her forehead against his as their breathing got deeper. “Have you thought about me while I’ve been away? Touched yourself pretending it’s me?”

She nodded, remembering all the times she had slipped her hand beneath her underwear while wondering if her boyfriend had been doing the same.

“Of course, but I never came as good as if you’d actually been there. Did you touch yourself too? While you were gone?” Ben breathed out shakily.

“Nearly every day, sweetheart. Thinking about your mouth wrapped around my cock, fucking your throat. You want me to do that now?” Jenna nodded, honestly just ready to give whatever she was being offered at this point. “You’ll have to be patient, then, because as much as I’d like to come down your throat, I need to fuck you, right now.”

She kissed him briefly before pulling away again.

“Then I suggest you take me upstairs, strip me, lay me out on the bed and fuck me until one of us passes out.” Ben’s deep groan resonated through Jenna’s body and straight to her core.

“You’re going to be the fucking death of me, you know that?”

#benedict cumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch smut #benedict cumberbatch x oc #writing #smut

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sobeautifullyobsessed · 9 days

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A Khan By Any Other Name

a prequel to Star Trek: Into Darkness

mystery, suspense, danger ~ romance & NSFW material to follow

summary: Seraphina DiPietro is wise in the ways of the world; she has to be, as she travels the California coast as a torch singer in pubs, bars, and nightclubs. She knows how to take care of herself and stay out of trouble--most of the time. When trouble comes, it's usually because she lets her kind heart overrule her common sense. Stopping to check on a handsome stranger stranded roadside in the Mojave Desert, her curiousity is piqued as much by his classic, mint-looking Mustang, as by its driver--a tall, dark, mysterious drink of water, whom she quickly learns is so much more than he appears.

characters: Khan Noonien Singh (aka: John Harrison), Seraphina DiPietro (OC)

words: 1.9k

Chapter Two

“Drop it now,” he repeated, with the sure authority of a man accustomed to having his orders obeyed, “And I promise I will not hurt you.”

Despite his iron grip, Seraphina struggled to pull her arm away, hissing through teeth gritted against the pain, “Won’t hurt me? You’re hurting me now.”

Harrison’s hold on her arm loosened some; she was still tightly caught, but the pressure of his grasp, the pain, had receded a fair bit—although she knew she’d find dark, finger-shaped bruises there in short order. If she even lived that long. “Forgive me,” he told her, his voice low and even, “I’d forgotten how fragile your bones can be.”

What an odd thing to say, she thought, straining for release from his clutch and realizing it was all too impossible; she was no match for his strength, and even if she could manage to trigger the mace, she had no sure way to aim it properly. She felt desperate, frightened tears well up in her eyes, but squeezed her eyes shut against them—for she would not give her assailant the satisfaction of her despair, nor would she beg for mercy.

He must’ve read that quiet resignation on her face, for he tugged her fist close and covered it with his free hand, urging her to see reason, “You cannot win this struggle, Seraphina. Your resistance is futile; surely you understand this?” Harrison’s voice was silk persuasion, rich and dark and seductive—at complete odds with the very real threat he presented. “I could easily break your wrist and prize your little weapon from your fingers—but I honestly have no desire to hurt you. Just let it go.” And then, to her great surprise, he added, “Please.”

Blinking through the tears that fell against her will, tears that betrayed weakness when she wanted to be strong, Seraphina met his eyes again. His beautiful, deadly eyes—and saw in them an unexpected sincerity that matched his gentle “please”. She bowed her head and opened her fist, leaving her key and the can of mace to fall onto the passenger seat.

“There—that wasn’t so difficult after all, was it?” Why was his voice so soothing? Fear of what he might do to her next coursed through her veins, yet Seraphina thought she could easily crumple to the ground, curl up into a fetal ball, and let his voice see her into untroubled darkness. The heat, the fear, the adrenaline, the struggle—all of it had sapped her of the will to face whatever might come next. She’d always believed it wasn’t in her nature to fall apart so quickly, but she felt that way now, all the same.

True to his word, Harrison released her arm, but Seraphina remained in place, braced against the passenger side door, shaking in the aftermath and considering her very limited options. She might try to make it to her hovercraft, but the stranger now held her key; and even if she had the strength to run and the speed to outpace him, to flee into the desert at her back would be equally as brutal as anything he might do to her. She'd have to make her stand right here, then--and though she was no match for his size and strength, she knew enough to leave him hurting before he took her down for good.

Taking stock of her condition--mentally preparing to fight him off as best she could--Seraphina flexed her left wrist carefully, wincing as she explored her tender forearm with cautious fingers. Nothing broken at least, though she felt a bone-deep ache; but it would not be enough to hamper any effort to defend herself.

Strangely, Harrison was ignoring her at the moment; having retrieved her keychain, he had torn the can of mace free with no effort, before hurtling it carelessly into the desert. Seraphina had a vivid image of her own broken, half-naked body flung just as easily and left upon the sand for carrion-eaters to feast upon. She shoved the idea down deep, knowing such fear would only cripple her--and was immediately dumbfounded when he held the key out to her.

"Did I not say I have no wish to harm you?" Harrison's eyes bored into her own, searching for calm and reasoned understanding. "In spite of how it appears, we are equally vulnerable in this place and situation. We must find a way to trust one another. " Sera only continued to regard him warily. "Take this," he insisted, "If I judge you correctly, simple concern for a traveler in need motivated you to stop. And in keeping with your nature, I believe that you will not deny me the help that I need."

Sera studied his face, looking for signs of deception, skittish to trust him but accepting his peace offering nevertheless. "You lied," she said, defiant yet holding her anger at bay, "This car isn't yours..."

Harrison nodded, his full lips pressed together against a small placid smile, "I never claimed that it was..."

"It's stolen," she fumed, irritated with herself for allowing him to so easily mislead her when her first instinct had been correct after all.

"An act of desperation, I assure you..."

"Just as this was," she exclaimed, extending her bruised forearm to him, "I have to wonder what happens to people who truly stand in your way, Mr. Harrison. "

Unruffled by her outburst, Harrison closed his eyes a moment and breathed deeply. When he looked to her again, he was the picture of patience. "I swear I have no desire to cause you--or anyone else--harm. But you must understand, I am in dire straits and as we linger here, my family is in imminent danger." He paused, weighing the effect of his words upon her. "Such a thing will make a man act beyond the measures of polite society."

Seraphina narrowed her eyes, skeptical of his revelation of a family, but suspending her disbelief for the moment, "How then? What sort of danger is your family in?"

"Their very lives hang in the balance, threatened by a powerful man who seeks to manipulate me into working for him." Embers of hate flashed in his eyes, and he gave a bitter huff as he added, "Forcing me to work toward the most nefarious of purposes."

Sera shook her head, clearing the double vision that had crept up on her; she cupped a trembling hand against her forehead, which came away slick with perspiration. It was the heat getting to her, obviously. She felt parched, although the thought of putting anything into her roiling stomach left her feeling even more nauseous, and her head was pounding in time with her racing pulse. She needed to get out of the goddamn heat before she collapsed from heat exhaustion--while the man before her looked completely unaffected by the desert climate. "And...and I suppose this mysterious man is so powerful that you can't seek help from the proper authorities?" Sera leaned all her weight against the car door, wondering if Harrison had noticed her current state of distress.

If he did, he gave no sign of it, a mix of pain and rancor coloring his strikingly handsome features. "So powerful that it would be in your best interest to remain ignorant as to his identity and position." Anticipating her next question, he warned her, "Do not ask--for I cannot reveal that information."

Though stymied by his vague replies--and sensing a much more complicated tale behind what he'd already admitted to--Sera read blunt honesty in his voice and body language. And the fact that he had willingly returned her key while asking for--rather than demanding--her help, seemed a testament to some underlying truth. She realized that she likely had only a few more minutes until she passed out, leaving her completely at Harrison's mercy. "Then how...how did you end up here, stranded in the Mojave," Sera asked, panting softly, "How does any of this help your family?"

He was watching her closely now, so that he had to aware that she was fading fast. "That is a rather long and complicated tale, Seraphina." His voice had again taken on a lulling pitch. "One which I believe would outlast your capacity to remain on your feet."

She held on to the window frame, white-knuckled but determined to remain upright long enough to learn his hidden agenda. "I'm fine...I...I'm just a little light-headed..."

"Step aside now, Seraphina." Again, that tone of a man whose orders were obeyed without question. "You have little time left before you lose consciousness." His hand was already on the door handle, and she stumbled back in time for him to swing the door open.

Then he was looming over her, a tall, cooling shadow, reaching out to brace her. His touch this time was firm, while surprisingly gentle. "We need to get you out of this heat." Unexpected concern in is stunning eyes, calming concern in his voice. The man was a beautiful enigma.

"No...please...tell me. If...if you want me to trust you..." Her world was darkening around the edges, narrowing so that only his face remained in her field of vision. "If you want me to help...I need...I need to know..." Seraphina felt herself going, and as her consciousness fled, so did her fear and curiousity; only one need remained. She sobbed against him as he scooped her up into his arms, "But you promised...you promised not to hurt me again..." Her eyes fluttered shut as she slipped away from awareness.

Harrison strode swiftly towards her hovercraft, cradling her as softly as he could, knowing that the cool, dark interior was the quickest remedy at hand for what ailed her. "Oh, pretty little Seraphina," he murmured, brushing his lips against her dampened hair, inhaling the sweet scent of jasmine and honey, relishing how light and easy she felt in his arms. "Hurting you is the least likely thing I have planned."

(to be continued)

If you enjoyed this, please reblog ~ it's the only way others can see this work.💟

tagging: @icytrickster17 @ironstrange1991 @strangelockd @groovy-lady @aphroditesdilemma @stewardofningishzida @battledress @mousedetective @dearmrsstephenstrange @lorelei-lee @mckiwi @shinebrightlikeafanbase @cumberbatchitis @doctorhelm @strangeflashholmes221 @prulock @stargirl-designs @hajile10 @dancingmushu @iloveavengersblog @fireonmybones @osugahunnyicedtea @brayleigh14

(There were a few more blogs that I tried to tag based on the response to chapter one, but tumblr's messed up url search function kept telling me 'no blog found'🤨)

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starssaroundmyscarssblog · 4 months

Note

Can you write for reader x Sherlock where reader is a little like Elizabeth Bennet, likes to read and paint etc. Singing and all the cultural stuffs and Sherlock has fallen for her too hard?

𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈𝐍

pairing: sherlock holmes (bbc) x fem!oc

summary: in which sherlock holmes doesn’t catch himself from falling quick enough for jane burbank

word count: 3.04k

warnings: none

a/n: this was my first time writing for a request so i really hope you like it <3 i also made it [x/oc] as i'm more comfortable doing it that way but i tried to stay away from descriptions as much as possible to make this little fic as inclusive as possible too <3

he wanted nothing more than to talk to her, even if it was only a meagre apology for accidentally brushing against her in the library isle. she enamoured him and he hated it, even years later as he held the heavy velvet curtains between two fingers and watched her cross over the road and unlock the door to her flat. john smirked behind his newspaper, "you're doing it again."

"doing what?" sherlock huffed, letting the curtains drape back into place over the window. "saying i'm doing something again would mean i'm repeating the action. what's special about me standing by the window." he stalked through the flat and flung himself into an old wooden chair by the kitchen table, seething over his frustration.

he hated it when john was right. nothing frustrated him more than his closest friend seeing right through him as if he were a spirit. more often than not, when he was sulking about not having cases or waiting for results from his less-than-ethical experiments, sherlock would find himself rooted to the floor by the window. sometimes he would play his violin slow and mournful, sometimes he would stand in plain sight.

it would stun him when the sunlight bounced off the wire frame of her glasses, the reflection shooting through her window and right back to his. sherlock found it hard to concentrate on anything else when she would sit in her arm chair with a cardigan that on anyone else would have looked ugly but on her the bright colours did nothing but compliment her. she always had a pen or pencil or paint brush hidden away in her hair, and occasionally she would reach up and fiddle with it as she thumbed delicately through the pages of her book.

sherlock looked up from concentrating hard on the surface of the table when his phone buzzed him his pocket, and he pulled it out. his smile became visible against his will.

you're doing it again, if you want to come over you only have to ask

within minutes he was at the door, ripping off his burgundy dressing gown and trading it out for his thick and heavy belstaff. at john's call of "where're you off to all eager?" he simply shouted "out" as he clattered down the thin staircase. sherlock was out of the door and crossing the road faster than he was able to think, knocking sharply on the blurred stained glass window set into her front door.

there was a crash from inside, a mutter of swearing as she pulled back the door to reveal her haphazard state. sherlock stared dumbly at her, trying to ignore the red splatter of paint on her neck dripping onto her chest, searching for words as when he opened his mouth it turned dry. "you didn't ask," she said, but stood back to let him into her house anyway.

sherlock walked in through the hall, catching himself casting his gaze over the walls like he did every singe time. the university diploma sat pride of place over the mantlepiece of the fireplace in the living room reading 'ba joint honours in history and history of art awarded to jane burbank, graduating with a first from the university of edinburgh'

next to it was a framed photo of the pair of them stood together at a mutual friend's wedding the previous year. sherlock had gone along begrudgingly when he'd found out that jane was attending the party after the ceremony because her cousin was the maid of honour for the bride. they were both standing outside of the venue side by side, smiling into the lens as one of the flower girls was messing with the petal confetti in her small wicker basket in the background.

jane brushed her bangs off her eyes as she moved around the airy living room, shoving wooden crates of paint back into place on the shelf and moving her latest canvas out into the garden to dry completely. sherlock stood awkwardly in his coat and ran his finger under the collar of his shirt sitting tightly against his neck. she stared at him as she returned, wiping a paint stain off the hem of her white dress as she did so.

"sherlock, i don't know why you insist on dressing like a child from the past in the middle of summer." london had been blanketed in a sticky, heavy heat as they hit the peak of august, making being indoors impossible but being outside worse. jane was only glad of her broken window to allow a constant breeze to pass through the ground floor of her house but knew the relief wouldn't last long. it was only a matter of time before the rain came in thick drops and plunged them into everlasting autumn.

he shrugged awkwardly and peeled the coat from his body, and when jane looked at him from behind her easel tucked away in a corner by the bay window he removed his blazer from his shoulders too. sherlock felt too free when he was with her, it scared him, but she made him feel to exhilarated to even care sometimes.

once, when they'd met at a summer research project collating students from different courses at the russel group unis, jane had cleared her throat to catch his attention in the library. at the noise he turned around, still holding the heavy volume, and saw her looking at him through a gap in the shelves perching her chin on the heel of her hands. "hey," jane whispered at him, "d'you want to do something fun?"

sherlock couldn't find his voice to tell her that what he was doing was fun and that he didn't really want to leave the safety of the library that late at night, but her bright eyes sparkling in the fluorescent lights hanging from the high ceiling from exposed wires made him throw caution to the wind and join her on their escapade. jane dragged him to a concert and to this day not one of them could remember who it was they'd seen only that they were rubbish and the cone of chips they'd picked at while walking through a grassy park was much more enjoyable.

he'd been dressed for winter then too, despite the thin linen of his shirt trying to cool him down in the muggy night air. but he couldn't care less about the heat invading his skin or the salt from the chips that caught on his finger tips because he was talking to jane burbank, and it had been all he'd wanted to do since she came bursting into the lecture hall for the summer programme two minutes late in a haze of frazzledness as she pulled down the hem of her summer dress where it had ridden up from her haste.

if he had been a better man he wouldn't have looked down past her neck but he couldn't help himself.

perched on the end of the emerald green sofa shoved against a bright white wall covered in artwork and cheap antique picture frames, sherlock fumed silently like the kettle he wished jane was setting over the stove because he could see john giving him his worst 'i told you so' look from the front window of his flat over the road. jane returned with a silver tray laden with small plates holding biscuits, two empty glasses holding ice and a large pitcher of sparkling orange juice.

"d'you want to go out and do something fun tonight?" jane found herself repeating the words every time she saw sherlock, which wasn't as often as she would have hoped considering she bought her house opposite his flat with his proximity in mind. he was always out sleuthing with john, who she'd seen more, and got on well with.

so was it really any surprise that jane took any chance she could get with sherlock, to make the most of the time they had together. he'd intrigued her all those years ago (it hadn't in-fact been too many years ago since they'd graduated with first honours, but life in the wake of sherlock holmes was long and weary) and still continued to do so now. she was pleased she knew him before he made it big as a 'boffin' in the national press and was even more pleased that he still kept up with her completely opposing lifestyle despite his cold-heartedness and want of plain fact.

with a gleeful grin and a shake of his shoulders as she squealed at his minute nod, jane was away to pack her bag and to grab her sandals before rejoining him at the front door. much to her excitement, sherlock had decided to brave the outside world without the protection of his belstaff, the top two buttons of his shirt were undone and his blazer was tucked neatly under his arm as he waited patiently for her. "ever practical," she muttered and locked the door behind her. the heat of the day beat down on her exposed shoulders from where she'd pinned her hair up at the back of her head and she pulled her sunglasses over her nose.

they set off and june looked at her watch, "quarter to three, fancy going out for something to eat first?"

"whatever you want to do," sherlock agreed, and sure enough half an hour later they were sat on outside tables for a cafe overlooking westminster watching the people go by. well, sherlock was watching the people go by and jane was peeling away the pastry of a croissant she'd ordered while taking occasional sips of her glass of diet coke. he tapped his fingers against the saucer for his coffee patiently waiting for her to finish so they could leave.

jane wanted to look through the markets in camden for old records before they tried to find a pub for dinner and finished off the day at st james' park to listen to the music drift over them from the live festival happening in hyde park that she didn't get tickets to. she was always asking him if he wanted to do something fun even when she'd planned the day to some kind of degree of legible and sherlock just agreed.

but he did so because jane had asked him to, and anything that was fun to her would be fun for him.

after their intermission at the cafe, where jane had stopped to take some candid photos of some couples she'd seen over the green before turning the lens on an unsuspecting sherlock, they suffered the stuffy carriage of the underground before emerging at camden. jane beelined for stalls selling records and cassette tapes she didn't need because her selection was already overflowing. she picked up a sleeve and turned it to sherlock, grinning, "don't you just love them?"

he smirked before saying, "i prefer blur" only to receive a smack on the shoulder for his admission. by the time they'd left jane had bought enough to put a sizeable dent into her savings account made for paying off her student debt and she was dragging sherlock to an art gallery she noticed was free to the public before they sat down to eat again.

there was something about her wide eyes as they walked around the gallery that sherlock couldn't tear his eyes away from. it might have been the sun shining down on her cheekbones from the glass ceiling or the way she looked like one of the twisted statues in her white dress and delicate sandals or her screwed up face as she focused on something in the background through the lens of her camera. being with jane was a break from the world he'd plugged himself into and he loved every second of it.

sherlock didn't love it as much, however, when they were sat outside (again) at a pub jane liked sharing a bowl of chips while she told him about the awful date she'd had with an awful guy who had an awful name two days prior. his back straightened and something curled in the pit of his stomach as jane told him about the bloke's lacklustre effort of wooing her, especially when he lumped her with paying for dinner and their tube fares back because he'd 'conveniently' left his wallet in a different jacket.

"he wasn't even wearing a jacket, sherlock, i mean can you believe it? i go on one date for the first time in months and he's a total prick!" she picked at a chip and dunked it angrily into the splodge of tomato sauce she'd poured onto the plate before soaking up any vinegar that had been left behind, "is chivalry really dead? i refuse to believe it is."

sherlock made a hoarse noise in the back of his throat before leaving for the bar and returning with a drink to replace jane's third glass of diet coke since they'd sat down. he placed down the cocktail in front of her and felt a flush of pride creep down his back as jane placed her hand over his to thank him earnestly. she took a sip, then another until the entire thing slid down her throat with a sigh of relief.

"i really needed that," she said and giggled to herself. sherlock forgot every time he was with her when she drank that jane was the lightest of lightweights, but when she'd had one she was happy and when jane was happy sherlock was well on the way to being happy too.

another cocktail later and jane had reached her happy medium for alcohol intake - she was blissfully unaware of anything happening outside of the six foot boundary around her but could still hold herself upright and kissed sherlock enthusiastically on the cheek when he caught the bill as a waiter was passing by their table. she laughed all along the path and the whole time the two of them were walking to st james' park.

sherlock didn't make it a habit to carry people around on his back, but when jane looked up at him with a pout and wide glassy eyes he acquiesced and hoisted her onto his back with her ankles locked together just below his navel.

she insisted on getting a cone of chips for old times sake even though they'd eaten enough to fuel an army back at the pub, and jane happily handed over five pounds in cash for a cone and a pot of curry sauce to the woman behind the till. "thank you!" she called out from over her shoulders and sherlock walked through the gates to the park and let her down gently onto the grass where they usually sat.

jane fell forwards and caught herself from landing on her face by her knees, laughing as she slumped forwards onto her chest and propped her chin up into her hands. sherlock sat beside her on his jacket and brushed her bangs out of her eyes, and she felt her skin flush where his fingers had touched. the music from the concert in hyde park eventually reached them just as jane thought it would and she began to hum the tune under her breath as she picked at the chips sherlock was holding out for her.

jane rolled onto her back and felt the blades of grass tickle her shoulders and she moved to make herself comfortable. "we never talk anymore sherlock." she huffed, and tried to reach out and run her fingers over his cheek but stopped when she realised her hands were moving in the completely wrong direction.

"you've been talking all day."

"but i mean you and me. we never talk, i talk at you and you listen."

"i like listening."

"no you don't, you'll out live god trying to get the last word in."

he laughed behind his smile, "i like listening to you."

jane pushed herself onto her feet and sank down again so she was eye to eye with sherlock. he could still see the red splatter of paint along her neck and upon closer inspection he found that the drips had dried throughout the day past the neckline of her already low summer dress. "i wish you would do more than watch and listen to me." she whispered, still tapping out the rhythm of the new song against her knee.

"but i like listening to you and i can't help but watch you. it irritates me." lies.

"no it doesn't."

damn.

before sherlock even had a chance to refute or say anything in his defence, jane's hands were placed gently on either side of his neck and she pulled him forwards to join their lips. jane held him so close that their noses bumped together repeatedly and she had to lean forwards to follow him when he pulled away. "jane!"

"what?" she questioned, finding that she'd sobered up at a startling rate when the gravity of what she'd done had truly set in. "oh, sherlock i'm so sorry i didn't mean to-" her words were cut off as he kissed her again, again and again to pepper kisses all over her cheeks and along her forehead where her bangs had fallen over her eyes again.

jane was a breath of fresh air, the calm in the middle of the storm he lived his life by. in the moment with her, sitting on the grass in a darkened london park he couldn't help but not care about what john would say when he finally got home or if jane would soon realise how dangerous tangling her life with his truly was.

she pushed herself onto him and held onto his arms as she kissed him harder, not caring that sherlock was the right-hand-man of every inspector at scotland yard or that his idea of fun was dissecting human bodies and testing them for bruising. the only thing that mattered to her was the boy she'd liked since she walked in late to the lecture hall was kissing her back after he'd admitted to her, drunkenly at their mutual friend's wedding, that it was all he thought about whenever he saw her

🪩⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊🔎

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girl-of-many-fandoms · 2 years

Text

can't compare // 2

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader

Summary: Stephen is dead set on fixing things between him and Y/N.

Warnings: none

Part 1 Part 2

MASTERLIST

---

“I’m such an idiot Pepper, I willingly went to that engagement party with Stephen knowing that they used to be a thing.” Y/N was filling in the red-head on her breakup with the sorcerer. It’s been two days since the entire thing and she managed to drag herself out of bed today only to camp out on her couch.

“That’s not being stupid Y/N. If anything, he’s the stupid one. He let you walk out.”

“Yeah because he didn’t love me enough to care in the first place.” Y/N shovelled another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth and used the sleeve of her sweater to dry the tears that didn’t seem to want to stop.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Believe me, it’s true. He said that he still had feelings for her-” The sound of her doorbell being rung filled the entire house alerting her of someone’s presence on her doorstep. She placed the tub of ice cream on the coffee table and headed for the door with her phone in hand.

“Someone’s at the door, I’ve gotta go.” The call disconnected as she opened the door. She could’ve sworn she just saw her brain from how hard she just rolled her eyes at the last person she wanted to see at the moment. Stephen stood there with equally red puffy eyes and a pained expression on his face. He hadn’t slept at all since that night, his mind kept him wide awake thinking about the endless ways that could’ve been avoided and how best he could try to win her back.

“Whatever it is you’re here to say, I’m not interested in hearing it.”

“Y/N, please. You didn’t give me a chance to say anything that night.”

“And you thought by showing up on my doorstep tonight was a good idea? Stephen-” Y/N started closing the door on him but he stopped it with his hand.

“I love you Y/N.”

“You don’t-”

“I do. Please, let me in so we could talk.” Stephen released a small sigh of relief when she opened the door for him to get inside. His eyes immediately focused on some of his things that he’d left at her home in a box off to the side.

Whatever you’re about to say Stephen better be good otherwise she’d be putting you out with your stuff

Ignoring the voice inside his head, Stephen turned to face her. Y/N crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for him to say something.

“For the past two days all I could think of was how stupid I was to let you walk away so easily. You mean so much to me Y/N whether you believe it or not, you do.”

“Clearly not enough, you told me you still love Christine.”

“One thing you have to understand Y/N, Christine and I never really figured out what we were and then things kept happening one after the other. Thanos came and wiped half of the population away, I was gone for five years and when I returned I found out she moved on.” Y/N watched on as Stephen paced the floor.

“I messed up my chances with her long before that and I couldn’t seem to move on since then until you happened.”

“Stephen you and I only happened because I showed up on the Sanctum’s doorstep in the middle of the night. I couldn’t sleep, I was hurting, mourning the loss of my friends, the people that I called a family. I didn’t have anyone else to talk too about any of the things that happened so I came to you. We were both in pain and we numbed it with each other.”

Y/N recalled the night she wound up at the Sanctum in the pouring rain in need of someone to talk to, a friend. Stephen was wide awake when she showed up, he too was having a hard time trying to fall asleep. He let her in and they both talked about what happened. Their emotions changed from being devastated to anger and hurt which led to them releasing all their frustrations out on one another, tangled up in his sheets.

“We started off as being each other’s temporary fix until you said that you wanted to take things to another level and I obviously wanted to do the same.”

“Yeah, I asked you to go out with me because I saw you as more than just someone to warm my bed at night. I fell in love with you before I even realised it Y/N.”

“Did you really or was that just your way of trying to get over your ex lover?” Stephen scoffed at her remark, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing right now.

“Is that what you think our relationship was about? Me using you to get over a woman that I barely even dated?”

“Stephen if our relationship meant anything to you at all you wouldn’t have kept wearing the watch she gave you. All I’m saying is, if you really loved or respected me, you wouldn’t have kept wearing it. For fuck’s sake Strange, you took me to a dinner party knowing damn well that it was her engagement party!”

“I know I was wrong for doing that but I needed to know that she was happy!” Stephen’s voice elevated a bit as he took a few steps in her direction. Y/N was on the verge of launching the vase at his head but reminded herself that he’d most definitely stop it before it could make any contact. So instead of doing that she laughed as if what he just said was the funniest joke ever told.

“You needed to know if she was happy, ha! Okay, let me ask you this since we’re so interested in finding out if the people around us are happy. Were you happy Stephen? Were you happy with me?”

“Yes Y/N, I was happy with you.”

“Ha ha, this is what gets me. You’re saying the words but your actions don’t line up Stephen. You said that you were happy with me but yet still you care so deeply about her and what she’s doing with her life. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t care because there’s more to it where both of you are concerned but we were together and you didn’t seem to care about how I felt after you told me about her. Instead you kept wearing the busted watch like it was nothing on our dates, when we’d spend time together, you never left home without it.” Y/N took the remaining steps needed to close the distance between them with her eyes locked on his.

“I even got you a new one to see if you’d take the hint and put the one she gave you away but instead mine is still in the box it came in on your dresser. You’re probably thinking that I’m mad over a watch, I’m not. I’m mad at you for not caring enough and I’m mad at myself for loving you so much that I forced myself to stay with you.”

“You’re right, I shouldn’t have kept wearing it but that doesn’t mean that I don’t love you and taking you to her engagement party was truly just to see if she found someone that wasn’t like me. I destroy every good thing in my life one way or the other and this right here, is proof of that.” Stephen hesitantly reached up to cup her face and did so once he realised that she wasn’t going to pull away. She was tired of arguing with him, she wanted this entire thing to be done with.

“You’ve been so good to me, you’ve put up with me and my assholery for far too long. I was a jackass for not realising that my actions were hurting you and for that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you the way that I did. I know this might be a long shot but Y/N, could you give us another chance?” Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut, enjoying the feel of his thumb brushing against her tear stained cheek; her anger bubbling down at his comforting touch.

“I don’t deserve it but you mean so much to me and I’m not ready to walk away from us.”

“You’re damn right about not deserving a second chance.”

“But?” Stephen lightly smiled down at her sensing that there was more to her sentence.

“But, we’re going to have to work on this together.” Y/N was still upset but she knew that she’d get over it sooner or later. Stephen felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest.

“I promise you, you won’t regret this. I love you so much Y/N.”

“I love you too Stephen.” The sorcerer captured her lips in a sweet kiss, holding her closer to his body. Y/N snaked her arms around his middle, melting into their kiss.

“I hate fighting with you.”

“Let’s not do it again.”

---

MARVEL Taglist:

@dorks2022 @sophiaedits @peakascum @anonymoustip217 @iiddaaa @panaitbeatrice @n3ssm0nique @mintphoenix @inas-thing @sketch-and-write-lover @friskae @bernthalbabe43 @trinkets01 @blackcat420 @justreadingficsdontmindme @bakingpotatoes21 @hardcoppizzasludge @tanyaherondale @creatingjana @calimoi @rootcrop @louisianalady @chrisfucksblog @thummbelina @vicmc624 @leyannrae @janaev4ns @queenofkings1212 @believinghurts @poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @stumbleonmywords @youarethereasonimsmiling @juxtaposition-exe @wanda-1 @katzenwahnsinn @v0idl1nq @winksasleeplesseye @candypopcandylolipop @lady-ashfade @aconeptun @lovecleastrange @rissaisfandomtrash @sherlockstrangewolf @neko-momo13 @graniairish

#marvel imagine #marvel x oc #marvel x reader #marvel smut #stephen strange x ofc #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x you #stephen strange #stephen strange imagine #doctor strange x you #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange imagine #doctor strange #benedict cumberbatch imagine #benedict cumberbatch #doctor strange and the multiverse of madness

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vi-trying-to-survive · 1 year

Note

Hey, I know you have finals right now (wishing you the best on those, I know you’ve got this!!) but I just thought I would make a request before I forgot about it lol. Obviously, it’s a Stephen Strange x female reader fic because I love him <3 Maybe one where it’s almost Christmas time but that’s not necessarily important I just love the winter lol. But the main part of the story is that they are playing Mario Kart extremely early in the morning (aka they still have their pajamas on, which is the best way to play Mario Kart) and both of them are competitive but in a friendly and loving way?? And some super cute and fluffy ending that I’ll let you decide because I can’t think of one and I trust you entirely :) anyways, hope all is well and that you do well on your exams!!!

Stephen Strange x f!Reader

Summary: Stephen and Y/N keeping up with Christmas traditions (basically what it says in the request :) )

Warnings: None, just fluff :))))))

A/N: Hope you guys like it !! I'm sorry I've basically been MIA also though, but I'm trying to write more now :')))) Also if you have any ideas or think I could improve my writing in anyway do let me know :)

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(Y/N) groaned as the sunshine streamed through the windows, caressing her face, willing her to wake up, as she tried to fight it, stuffing her face into the fluffy pillows, but eventually failing and flipping over, granted there was not much effort to it. Blinking her eyes, she rubbed slightly with the base of her palm, trying to get rid of the sleep that had formed as they focused on the room that surrounded her, the blurred edges becoming sharper and more visible. She yawned deeply, stretching her arms out a little, before leaning back into the mattress, soft and springy, sinking into the warm embrace of the man that held her comfortably, somehow still in deep sleep, inhaling the familiar scent of pine wood and spice that always stuck to him. Feeling him stir a little at her movements, she was quick to lace her fingers in his dark locks, gently brushing through any tangles, slowly lulling back to sleep. Turning her body to face his she couldn't help but admire him, so at peace when he slept, the lines along his face relaxed and almost non-existent, lips parted ever so slightly, as his chest rose up and down calmly. She found herself smiling affectionately at the sight of him, knowing that it had always been hard for the man to relax, first neurosurgery then the mystic arts and now a protector of the multiverse, he never seemed to be able to give himself a break, at least until her was asleep, it was like seeing an entirely new side of Stephen so relaxed and nonchalant. She wished that he would give himself that more often, for his own sake, but he never listened, always putting the world before himself, honourable but relatively self-destructive, so she figured the least she could do was let him sleep in for another hour or so, and it wasn't like they had any pressing matters to attend to.

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"Honey, hurry up already or I'm going to start it without you", she called tauntingly, waving the multi-coloured controllers in the air, not needing to turn around to imagine the exasperated look on his face.

"Oh my- Would you stop I am getting food for you and me", he frowned, tapping his foot impatiently, almost spilling the milk over the edge of the bowl. He was usually against cereal, claiming that it's not a food for an adult, but there were exceptions. Capping the carton swiftly, he balanced the two matching bowls and mugs unsystematically in his arms, nearly letting everything fall over in his hurry to reach her.

She could only grin in delight as she started counting backwards, "Three, two-", knowing how much it annoyed him, which was only confirmed by groan as he got closer to her spot on the couch.

"Okay, stop", he huffed out, freeing his arms as he placed the food on the coffee table, plopping down and grabbing his controller out of her hold, "I'm here".

"Just in time", she teased, waggling her finger at him in a disappointed manner, before shovelling a spoon-full of the probably unhealthy sugary cereal into her mouth, savouring the tooth-rotting taste and adjusting her grip around the controller.

He rolled his eyes, running a hand through his dark locks as he leaned back onto the plush velvet pillows that were splayed along the seat, "Yeah, yeah, just start the game and then we'll see who's talking".

"If you say so ?", she sang out, confidently hitting start, unable to help the way her smile grew wider as the familiar music rang out, almost bursting in excitement.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He bit his lip hard, unable to feel it as his heart raced with adrenaline, whispering under his breath, "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon", his fingers flying along the controls, gaze fixated on the bright colours on the screen, before it all went blank and revealed the scoreboard. He fell face-flat onto the fluffy pillow, partly hoping to suffocate himself so he wouldn't be able to feel the embarrassment that he did now. How was it that he Stephen Strange, neurosurgeon and master of the mystic arts, was unable to ever beat his fiancé at Mario Cart.

"Ahahahaha, YES", jumping up and down on the couch cushions, she caused him to shake around with her, as she waved her arms in air, performing a terrible victory dance, exclaiming, "I am triumphant once again". On another day, he probably would've made fun of her for it but at the time he was wallowing in too much self pity for that.

He sat up, swiping a palm across his face contorted in confusion, "I never understand, you always win at the last second".

"It's called being the queen of Mario Cart", she smirked, giving him an affectionate poke on the arm, to which she got no response but a pout from the sorcerer, which was pretty uncharacteristic from the man who always needed the last word.

She shook her head, chuckling as she moved closer to him bumping her shoulder against his and letting her head drop onto his shoulder, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck, "Awwwww, are you upset". She placed a soft kiss on his skin, the heat radiating off him warming up her lips, hoping to get an answer, and yet he still kept to his pact of silence.

"You are such a big baby", she huffed crossing her arms, slinking down onto the side of the armrest, glaring at him.

A sudden thought came to her mind and she grinned maliciously at him, which he took no notice of, "If you won't talk to me I guess I just have to use extreme measures", before raising her fingers to his sides, tickling aggressively, breaking his stoic manner as he burst into laughter. She moved closer to him, to get a better angle at tickling, causing tears to brim at his eyes and her to giggle along with him.

"Okay, fine you win, just stop", he managed to admit defeatedly even with his hard laughter, raising his arms in the air, like waving a white flag at her, pulling her into his lap, still smiling, "I love you". He rested his hands gently on her waist, fiddling with the hem of her sweater, humming softly as her fingers twirled around the strands of hair on the back of his neck, watching her lovingly , before pressing her closer to him, joining their lips for a sweet kiss.

Pulling away, she nestled herself comfortably in his hold, enjoying his warmth, whispering "I love you too", as she pecked his cheek affectionately.

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iamsherlocked-1998 · 4 months

Text

Masterlist ✨

Hello! I´m Sarah.

I write only for Pedro's characters - not for Pedro himself.

I prefer one shots and littles stories.

I'm always open to requests, love have conversations.

Many of my stories include GN!Reader & M!Reader, they have LGTBI content (male x male). I don´t usually use original characters, but there are a few of then.

The stories may contains smut of varying degrees, violence and speak about sensible topics.

I love add gif and pics in my fics for made it more interesting.

My first language isn't english, please be patient with some errors in writing.

Please consider re-blogging it and leaving a comment, In fact I like to answer them. I also usually follow users who follow me❤

Come browse and have a good time 🥳

Din Djarin (The mandalorian):

-Cold is a phase (series): A little Christmas story, although it has some angst at the beginning.

PART 1

PART 2

-A Harmless Indulgence.

Story with blind reader, small domestic moment.

-When the storm passes

Contains description of nightmares and post-traumatic stress.

-Infection (Dincobb).

Zombie AU, with a little surprise in the end.

-In good and bad times (Dincobb).

The marshal helps with Mando's injury.

-Winter days

Just smut without plot.

-The Unknown (series): With a OC, Mando meet someone special.

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3.

-The Cave.

My version of the living waters.

-The Sorcerer (series, crossover): Doctor Strange is coming.

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3.

-The Hangar (Dincobb): Peli found an unexpected guest in her workshop...

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3.

-Communication.

Grogu first words

-Very long night (Dincobb).

A canteen night...

-Stolen days (Dincobb).

Wounds heal and bonds are created...

-Together.

My version of the reunion in The Book of Boba Fett.

-Goodbye.

A little anguish.

-Darkness (+ 18).

This story contains violence and loss of self-control.

-Mistletoe (+18).

A special to celebrate the end of Christmas with something a little spicy, Dincobb.

Oberyn Martell (GOT):

-Hot springs.

Just smut with our prince.

-IMAGINE (Dark, +18).

Javier Peña (Narcos):

-Healing.

The reader is a victim of drug traffickers since childhood and know Peña. Obscenity ensues.

IMAGINES:

-Joel Miller

-Break-up (multi characters).

-Sick (multi-characters).

-Din Djarin (Belong).

-Family.

-Earth.

-Dave York.

Marcus Pike (The mentalist):

-Broken Branches

A halloween story with some smut.

OTHER ACTORS AND CHARACTERS:

-Sherlock BBC (the smiling client).

A horror story based in the film.

#myself #pedro pascal #sherlock bbc #Writting #pedro pascal characters #benedict cumberbatch #marcus pike x reader #oberyn martell x reader #javier peña x reader #the mentalist #narcos #game of thrones #pedro pascal x oc #din djarin x reader #din djarin & grogu #doctor strange

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itsagentromanoff · 2 years

Text

Tony: What? What do you want?

Strange: You.

Tony: Excuse me?

Strange: You can be manipulative, you can be aggressive. I've known you to stretch the truth on occasion. But the fact is, when I'm not around you, I miss you.

Tony: You do?

Strange: What can I say? I've fallen for you.

Tony: Well this just may be your lucky night. I have an extra Hot Pocket.

#original: the oc #robert downey jr #benedict cumberbatch #tony stark #dr stephen strange #stephen strange #ironstrange #tony x strange #strange x tony #the avengers #non avengers quotes #quoting the avengers

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daydreamtofiction · 2 years

Text

The Feature X // Benedict Cumberbatch x Reader

Series Overview | Previous Part | Next Part

Chapter Summary: Ben wants to make it up you. But after a night of pure pleasure comes a stark, unwelcome morning.

Chapter Word Count: 5K

Chapter Warnings: Morally-grey reader, strong language, explicit sexual descriptions, smut: unprotected/protected sex, oral sex, fingering, praise, multiples/overstimulation(?). Readers must be 18+

A/N: With the descriptions of ‘unprotected’ sex and some of the discussions had by the characters in this chapter, I feel it necessary to reiterate the fact that this is a deeply, passionately pro-choice space. Abortion is a right not a privilege; for anyone, for any reason.

Reader Tag List: @blondekel77 @evelynrosestuff @bakerstreethound @annesthaeticc @aephereal @sharp-cheekbones-locked @sherlux @veryladyqueen @graciebear47 @allurenia @jamerlynn @cottagecore-cat @aysamuka @thegardenerofeden @cumbercatchmebaby @inspirationalandrandom @turkisherlockian @swds @weepingdreamerpanda @elzabethann @childofgod215 @lonadane @briecantopme @lovecleastrange @jaspearl31 @paola-carter @greatburger @azu21 @xourownsidee @hunterofshadows04 @asgardianprincess1050

If you would like to be tagged in the next part, please leave a comment or send me a message.

Ben took you by the hand and led you out of the study. You felt your breath shallowing as you walked with him towards the stairs, your stomach fluttering with nerves, as if your neck wasn't already decorated with the aftermath of his kisses, your thighs not already marked by his fingertips.

The first time had been quick; an explosion of pent up frustration against the front door you'd barely made it through. There had been no time to think it over, no time to consider what either of your intentions were; what it meant or what would come after. Only now were those thoughts beginning to seep in. Not in doubt, but in an uncharacteristic shyness.

You stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned to face him, taking a moment to ground yourself by pulling him into a deep, yearning kiss. You could taste the burn of alcohol on his tongue, feel his need as he hummed in approval and slid his hands around your waist to hold you close. It was enough to melt your reserve; leaving you a pool of impulse and desire in his arms.

His enthusiasm began to intensify, his body pressing against yours and encouraging you to move back onto the staircase. You followed his lead, trusting his hands to keep you steady as they roamed your lower back. The first step almost brought you to his height, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck with more ease, pressing your chest flush against his.

You let out a gentle gasp as his hands moved to your hips, gripping them firmly as he began to guide you backwards up the stairs. You kept your arms wrapped around him as he pushed you up each step, his hold on you strong, like he was practically carrying you. He moaned softly as he began to trail hot, impatient kisses over your neck, revelling in the taste of your skin. You couldn't remember another time when you'd felt so desired.

You were almost at the top of the stairs, and though it couldn't have been more than thirty seconds since you began your ascent, the eagerness in your belly made it feel like forever. You wanted to hurry up and get there, to have him fulfil his promise of making it up to you; 'next time, the time after that, however many times you want.'

"Not to ruin the mood, Ben," you said breathlessly. "But there's old people out there with stairlifts quicker than this."

The laughter came out of him like he hadn't felt it coming; escaping through his nose with a snort and distracting him just long enough to make him lose his footing. He fell forward, toppling onto you as you landed with your back against the steps.

There was a look of fear on his face, but it slowly melted away once he saw you were laughing, legs wrapped around his waist, hands gripping the spindles of the banister. He laughed too, resting his forehead against yours.

"That was your fault," he said.

"Yeah?" you giggled, tilting your head up and catching his lips in a kiss.

'"Yeah." He kissed you back. "That mouth of yours. Lethal."

"Mm, you're not the first person to tell me that."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Ooh, was that a speck of jealousy?" you teased.

"Why would I be jealous? I'm the one between your legs."

Touché, you thought, welcoming another kiss - a harder, hungrier kiss that made you remember exactly why you'd been heading upstairs in the first place.

You could feel his desire. Not just in the way he kissed you, but in the rigid length beneath his trousers. You arched up against it, a deep groan pouring from his mouth into yours. He swept one of his large hands up your thigh beneath your dress, his elegant fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You whimpered softly against his lips as his hand travelled further inwards, journeying to the place that still craved him.

"Up," he said sternly. "I want to actually make it to the bedroom this time."

He pulled you to your feet impatiently, almost growling the command. You liked it, wished you could save the sound and play it on a loop.

His hands never broke contact with your body, his chest against your back, lips on the back of your shoulder, teeth nipping at your neck as you rushed along the landing to his room. You fumbled clumsily with the door handle, and though it was just for a moment, you could feel the impatience growing between you, certain that if he hadn't instructed you to get up, you would have never made it off the stairs.

The door swung open and you turned to face him, stumbling back through the dark room towards the bed as his mouth found yours again, kissing you as he brought a hand to the side of your neck, his thumb caressing the pulse beneath your skin.

"I just have one small request," he whispered against your lips.

"Depends what it is."

He rolled his eyes, pausing as he slid down the straps of your dress, pressing fresh kisses to the bruises he'd already left along your collarbone.

"I need you to not be too loud," he finally said.

A breathy laugh escaped the corner of your mouth. "Bit presumptuous of you, isn't it? What makes you think you'll be getting any noise from me at all?"

"Because I'm going to fuck you," he said bluntly, matter-of-factly, as he pushed you back onto the bed. "Properly this time."

You kept your eyes on him, the sarcastic smirk wiped clean from your face as you leaned back on your elbows, watching him unbuttoning his shirt.

"None of that rushed, nervous mess like downstairs." He threw the shirt to the ground and moved on to his trousers. "This time, I plan to leave you so thoroughly fucked that you lose the ability to talk back to me."

Your throat suddenly felt dry, your breath becoming uneven. "That's ambitious..."

He dropped his head and let out a quiet chuckle as he removed his shoes and socks, letting his trousers and underwear fall to the ground and kicking them aside.

You took a moment to admire the sight before you; the tanned, freckled skin that sat taut over his broad chest, the defined arms and surprisingly muscled torso. It made you wonder how you'd spent so many years ignoring this man's existence. How whenever you saw him on screen or in the pages of magazines, you had somehow managed to avoid the allure that so many others around the world fell victim to.

He knelt at the foot of the bed between your legs, leaning forward to kiss you as one of his hands slowly moved up your thigh, taking your dress with it until it was bunched up near your hips.

"Do I actually need to be careful taking this off?" he asked.

"No," you replied with a breathy laugh, confounded by the charm in his consideration.

"Good."

He tugged at it impatiently. You arched your back and raised your arms above your head, allowing him to remove the dress from you in one swift motion, turning it inside out as he peeled it from your body. There was a slight chill in the room you hadn't noticed until now. It danced over your skin as you lay beneath him; exposed, unguarded, the softest and most intimate parts of yourself laid bare for him to seize.

You gasped softly as his warm hands made contact with your cold skin, the contrast so stark that you were sure his palms could sear brandings into your flesh.

"So perfect," he whispered, his fingers ghosting over the curve of your hips.

You slid your arms around his back and pulled him down, welcoming his full weight on top of you as you pressed your lips to his ear, nipping the lobe between your teeth before soothing the sting with a kiss. The sound that poured out of him was delicious; deep and throaty, travelling straight to your core and resonating there.

His mouth returned to you swiftly, leaving licks and kisses over your goose-bumped skin as he travelled south, taking detours on his journey to explore the planes of your body. His hands gripped the soft flesh of your breasts as he drew their firm peaks into his mouth one-by-one, sucking gently until you hissed in pleasure, your hands taking root his hair and tugging on whatever your fingers could attach themselves to. He groaned in response and pushed himself roughly against you, only your thin, lace underwear separating you from the thick, hard length he'd vowed to fuck you with.

He continued his descent towards your aching centre, dragging his tongue down your stomach, your skin tingling as the cool air made contact with the hot trail his mouth left behind.

"Can I tell you something?" His voice murmured against your hip.

"Mhm," you hummed.

"The second I met you, I wanted to do this."

You felt his weight shift on the bed, his hands gently parting your legs.

"I don't mean the sex," he continued, pausing every few moments to lay kisses on your inner thighs as he dragged down your underwear. "I mean this, specifically. I wanted to taste you."

His voice sent a ripple through your stomach, spreading to every part of you and forcing a yearning sigh from your lungs. You opened your mouth to speak, but he didn't give you a chance. Instead he buried his face between your thighs, lapping you up with no hesitation.

You threw your head back at the feeling of his tongue circling your clit, letting out a heavy, unexpected moan. You reached down instinctively and ran a hand through his hair, guiding his head deeper between your legs until they began to shake.

"Oh, fucking hell," you groaned.

This man had captivated the world with his tongue; the precision with which he spoke, the rich tones of his voice, the screen kisses that left viewers weak and blushing. This tongue already had the world at his mercy. If only that world knew the extent of what he could do with it, you thought, you were sure he'd be able to conquer it completely.

You felt the familiar rush of electricity, the swell rising through your stomach and dancing along every nerve as he pressed and stroked, swirled and sucked, completely devouring you like he'd been created just for you - to do nothing else but this - and you understood now why he'd asked you not to be too loud.

You were panting and moaning, swear words falling from your mouth in whimpers and cries as he continued to coax the climax from your core like he was stealing it from you. Your hips were writhing with pleasure, your fingers moving out of his hair to the bedding beneath you, clutching it desperately.

"Oh my god," you cried out. "Fuck!"

He pulled away just as you felt yourself approaching the edge, and for a moment you thought he was going to leave you there, hanging on just like the last time, begging him to push you over. But then you heard him; shushing you softly, like he was soothing you, coddling you. Like he knew exactly what he was doing to you, and he was encouraging you to take every last bit of it.

He pressed a lazy kiss against your clit before sliding two long fingers into you, curling and stroking the exact spot that instantly turned you into a squirming, quivering mess. You cried out and arched your back. He wrapped an arm over your stomach in response, pinning you back down against the bed as he worked his fingers at a relentless pace and returned his mouth to your centre.

You glanced down at the arm keeping you still, the hand still adorned with a shining, golden wedding band. You couldn't help but run your thumb over it, turning it slightly on his finger. He stopped what he was doing, pulling back to speak.

"Shit, sorry, I'll take it off."

"No," you replied quickly. "Keep it on."

He furrowed his brow.

"It's sexy..."

"The ring, or what it represents?"

You rolled your eyes. "So the reminder that you're married might turn me on a bit. I'm a terrible person, alright, you already knew that."

"You're not a terrible person," he said quietly, pressing his lips to your inner thigh and biting the sensitive skin there. "You are trouble, though."

He slid his fingers back into you and you almost came from the sensation, fluttering on the edge of an orgasm before he'd even begun to move them.

"Mm, I felt that," he growled. "You're close."

You let your head fall back as you felt his mouth on you again, eating you out so perfectly as he worked his fingers in and out of your body. He hummed in approval and you began to see stars in the periphery of your vision.

"Fuck," you cried.

You had never been so loud, so vocal. You'd even laughed at him when he asked you to stay quiet. Yet now, your voice was betraying you.

"Oh god, so close," you whimpered. "So close, so close, so- Fuck, Ben!"

He growled at the sound of his name, pushing his mouth deeper, harder against your soaking centre, curling his fingers against the place that made the air vanish from your lungs.

It didn't take much longer for you to fall apart around him, moaning and whimpering as you writhed your hips, riding out the intense, electric waves of your climax. You didn't realise you were still mewling until you felt one of his hands reach up and grip your throat, stifling the noise as he shushed you again.

He crawled up your body, bringing you face to face. "Remember when I asked you not to be too loud?" he purred. "That's because I have very nosy neighbours, who probably just heard that entire thing."

"Sorry," you replied in a breathless whisper. "Sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry-"

A smile curled the corner of his mouth as he looked down at you. "Have I broken you already?"

You quickly regained some composure, stubbornness setting back in as you took his face in your hands and kissed him, tasting yourself on his lips before drawing the bottom one into your mouth and biting on it. He winced, pulling away from you with a deep, guttural groan, the softest fleck of amusement in the corner of his mouth.

You leant up to kiss his neck, revelling in the sounds escaping him as you began to suck on the smooth, delicious skin near his throat.

He pulled away quickly. "If I'm seen with a love bite, I'm finished."

"What about a hidden one?" you mumbled as you began to press hot, gentle kisses down his chest.

"Don't you dare."

He was rocking his hips as he lay between your legs, his hard, unsheathed cock rubbing against your sensitive clit. He was teasing you, relishing the breathy, needy whimpers escaping your lips with every lazy stroke. The sensation was irresistible, the head of his cock hot and heavy as it swept back and forth along your slick folds. You bucked your hips, accidentally catching him at an angle that allowed his length to slip inside you.

You both gasped in a mixture of shock and pleasure; the feeling of him, raw and uncovered within you, undeniably exquisite.

"Shit," he hissed, lowering his forehead to your shoulder and stilling himself for a moment.

You expected him to pull out. But instead he lifted his head to look at you, breathing heavily before sinking himself further into you, deep and slow, until he was bottomed out inside you; the feeling so intense you could barely breathe.

"I told you you were dangerous," he said in a low, gritty voice.

"Hurricanes usually are," you replied.

His eyes seemed to change, as if the storm existed within them. He drew his hips back and snapped them forward, sending a shockwave through your belly, your eyelids fluttering with the threat of another orgasm.

He repeated the action, over and over again until he was pounding the living daylights out of you, keeping his promise to steal your ability to answer back, inadvertently stealing your ability to say anything at all. You were a mumbling, whimpering mess, your fingers clawing at his back, thighs aching from being spread apart beneath him.

"Fuck, Quinn," he growled through gritted teeth.

And you knew he could feel your walls tightening around him, pulsating with the swell of another approaching climax.

"So tight," he continued, letting the words gush into the crook of your neck. "You feel- So. Fucking. Good."

You clamped a hand over your mouth as your orgasm ripped through you, pulling you apart with an overwhelming heat. Ben groaned at the feeling of you coming undone, throbbing around his cock as he continued to move, drawing every last drop of pleasure from your body. He gave a garbled moan, his rhythm faltering until he finally pulled out and came between your thighs, the warmth of his release spilling down your throbbing centre onto the sheets below.

You were spent; breathless and aching, no longer bothered by the cool air of the bedroom. Ben collapsed at your side, the pair of you lying in the middle of the bed staring up at the ceiling. It was quiet for a while, the only sound coming from your laboured breaths as they slowly began to even out.

"That was really stupid of us, wasn't it," he said.

"Hm, don't know." You turned your head to look up at him and shrugged. "I mean, I hear the pull-out method's like... sometimes effective."

Even through the darkness, you could tell he was looking at you in fear.

You pursed your lips, but eventually began to laugh. "I'm joking!"

He didn't seem convinced.

"I swear. Honestly I'm joking. I have the implant, look." You sat up and took his hand, pressing two of his fingers to the inside of your upper arm, letting him feel the small bar beneath your skin. "And I'm clean too, obviously. I mean, I don't have proof of that but I'm sure I could get you my medical records if you really needed me to..."

He rolled his eyes with a smile. "Don't be stupid, I trust you."

You stared down at him.

"What?"

"Nothing." You shook your head. "It's just... After everything that's happened, it's nice to hear you say those words."

He smiled, pulling you down to rest your head on his chest. "I'm clean too, by the way."

"Phew," you replied sarcastically.

It fell silent again, comfortable, relaxing, as he drew swirls with his fingers over your back, his leg tangled between yours.

"Let me feel it again," he said, reaching for your arm.

You let him press his fingers to the inside of your arm again. He grimaced, making you giggle and swat his hand away gently.

"Do you want children?" he asked.

"Fucking hell, Ben. Your whole life flashed before your eyes two seconds ago, and now you're trying to get me pregnant."

"No," he laughed. "I'm not, of course I'm not. It just made me wonder if that's something you'd ever thought about." He looked down at you. "It's called 'getting to know you', Quinn. It's what people do."

You rolled your eyes. "I don't know. It's never really crossed my mind."

"Never?"

You shrugged. "Well I can't say I've ever met someone and thought 'god, I'd just love to mix our DNA together and bake it in my womb for nine months.'"

He laughed. "That mouth again. Such a way with words."

"Speaking of words.... I still have those questions."

"Go on, hit me."

"Well, the first one was how do you feel about... moving on. What does the future of dating and romance looks like for Benedict Cumberbatch."

You both smiled at the irony of the question, laughing quietly together.

He sat up slowly, turning his body to face you. "My future looks... interesting."

"I need more than that."

He smirked, thinking for a moment. "How I feel about moving on is... scared, uncertain, but ultimately optimistic. Of course I have goals for where I want to be personally in, say, five years. But I'm not going to force myself to hit them."

"Why?"

"Because life has a very interesting way of throwing curveballs."

"Hurricanes," you smirked.

He laughed deep in his throat. "Can I ask you a question?"

"You always do."

"When you look at me, do you see me? Or do you see Benedict the famous person?"

You pondered for a moment. "I see you. But then... every now and again, I'll get hit with this sudden realisation of who you are, and then nothing feels real for a while."

"Does this feel real?"

You nodded softly, but you were unsure if you actually believed yourself.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He convinced you stay, pulling you back into bed whenever you tried to get up and leave. You didn't really want to leave, secretly glad whenever you'd feel his reluctance to let you go. You showered in his ensuite bathroom, though the act proved entirely futile when you returned to find him ready and waiting to have you again.

You slept soundly after that; exhausted, bruised and thoroughly satiated. You would wake throughout the night, forgetting for a split second where you were before feeling him beside you, letting out a sigh and nuzzling in close to him, listening to the breath rumbling in his chest.

You began to stir to the sounds of birds outside, dawn seeping in through the window with a golden glow. You felt Ben turn, his arms wrapping around you, his body pressed against your back. He was grumbling in his sleep, a gentle, rhythmic wheeze escaping his nose. You smiled and nestled your head back against him, laying your arms over his.

He began to wake slowly, kissing the back of your shoulder. You turned your head and he shifted slightly, kissing your jaw, your cheek and squeezing you tight in his arms.

"How did you sleep?" he croaked.

"Good."

You could feel his arousal in your lower back. You were still aching from last night, but somehow the feeling of him made you crave more. He leaned over to kiss you but you turned your head to avoid it.

"Ugh don't kiss me. Morning breath."

He laughed sleepily. "I don't care."

He placed a hand on your face and pulled you towards him to kiss you. You turned onto your back, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and parting your legs for him to lie between them. He rolled on top of you and pulled the duvet up over his back, shielding you both from the morning chill as he kissed your neck, reaching down and guiding his cock into you as if he belonged there.

You moaned languidly and he sighed against your neck as he began to move in slow, sleepy thrusts; not chasing an orgasm or satisfying an impulse, just connecting with you, waking up with you in the most delicious, intimate way.

The duvet slid down and you ran your hands over his bare back, feeling the goosebumps as they began to rise on his skin. You parted your thighs wider, bringing your knees up to allow him to sink deeper, making you both groan at the same time. He took your hands off his back and weaved his fingers through yours, pinning them gently above your head, holding them there as he stroked into you, forehead resting against yours.

There was a shuffling followed by a creak, the bedroom door opening suddenly across the room. You stopped immediately, your heart almost jumping out of your chest in fright as Ben glanced over his shoulder to see his ex wife standing in the doorway. She looked stunned.

So did he.

He pulled out of you and jumped up quickly. So quickly, you weren't sure you'd ever seen another human being move so fast.

"Jesus, Faye! You can't just stroll in here like that-"

"Wow." She breathed, tongue pressed to the inside of her cheek. "You move on quick."

You rolled your eyes, pulling the duvet up to cover your chest.

"What are you doing here!?" he shouted, scrambling to pull on a pair of trousers.

"I needed to go over some things with you and you gave me a key, so-"

"Yeah, so you could come and check on the house for me when I wasn't here, not to let yourself in whenever you please!"

"Well now I know why," said Faye, nodding towards you.

You couldn't help but laugh to yourself; at the feigned outrage, the performance of a woman scorned. You slipped out of bed and grabbed your dress, turning your back to her and pulling it quickly over your head.

Faye scoffed at you. "I'm not sure what's so funny about me walking in on my husband with another woman before our divorce is even finalised…"

You giggled and turned to Ben. "Ever thought about getting her into acting?"

He pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh.

"Excuse me?" she said.

"Faye, it's okay," Ben sighed. "She knows. About this, about us, she knows."

"What?"

"It's fine," you said, pulling your dress down over your hips and turning towards her. "It's cool, honestly, I'm not going to say anything-"

"Yeah, too right you're not going to fucking say anything." She marched towards you, teeth gritted angrily.

"Whoa," said Ben. "Faye!"

Her narrowed eyes began to widen as she regarded your dress; her gaze trailing up from your body to your face, her back straightening in realisation as she stopped approaching you.

"You're the journalist who spilled my drink," she finally said, almost whispering. "Last night… You-"

"Yeah that was me," you sighed. "But there's more to this than-"

"Are you stupid, Ben!?" She turned to him, pushing him in the chest. "There's an NDA in that contract for a reason! It's not even been two weeks and you've already blabbed to the first slut who let you stick your dick in her!"

"Hey!" you shouted.

"And not just a slut but a fucking journalist!" She shook her head at you before looking back at Ben, tears welling in her eyes. "You just couldn't wait, could you."

He sighed. "Faye, I wouldn't have told her if I didn't trust her-"

"You know that's not what I'm talking about."

You furrowed your brow as you saw her eyes flit to the messy bed, the genuine hurt in her face.

"Look, I'll call you later, okay?" said Ben.

"You're kicking me out…?"

He pushed his fingers into his eyes. "No, I'm not- just- this obviously isn't a good time."

"Obviously."

"I can go…" you said.

"No," he said quickly. "You stay here. Faye, come on I'll walk you out."

He led her out of the room and you exhaled slowly, surprised by the quiver in your breath. You sat on the bed, listening to their footsteps as they descended the stairs, the hum of their voices through the floor. After a few minutes, he returned; flustered, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I'm so sorry," he said, sitting down next to you.

"I thought you said your relationship was just business?"

"It was…"

"Really? Because that woman is very clearly in love with you."

"What? No." He shook his head dismissively. "Faye and I, we really are friends. We care about each other a lot. It doesn't mean she's in love with me."

"Did you not see her face?"

"I think anyone'd be mortified walking in on that."

You shook your head. "That wasn't the face of someone who felt embarrassed. That was the face of someone who just walked in on the love of their life balls deep in another woman."

He rolled his eyes. "Your use of the English language never ceases to amaze me."

"She was devastated, Ben."

He huffed, as if he still didn't believe you.

"Tell me, who was the first one to actually suggest divorce?"

"Me."

"And let me guess, when you did suggest it, her response was something along the lines of 'yeah, I've totally been thinking the same thing'," you said in a mockingly sweet voice. "I bet through this entire process it's felt like she's been dragging her feet, hasn't it? And when you began legal proceedings, it was always your team reaching out to hers, waiting to hear back, having to chase up responses…"

He stared at you.

"I'd put money on her coming here today hoping to make you reconsider."

"That's ridiculous." He scoffed. "We were in almost constant contact for two years and she never ever eluded to having feelings for me."

"Didn't she? Or did you just not notice?"

"She told me to my face she wanted to move on, meet someone, have babies-"

"Yeah. She doesn't just want babies, Ben, she wants your babies."

He thought for a moment before letting out a groan and pinching the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb. "Well it doesn't matter either way. She knew where we stood when we got into this."

"And then you slept with her…"

He glared at you, dropping his gaze after a moment and sighing.

"And if the night you spent with her was anything like last night, I'm not surprised she fell in love you."

He laughed softly to himself. "Are you falling in love with me, Quinn?" he teased.

You rolled your eyes with a smile. "I don't do love, Benny."

You stood up, wandering around the room in search of your underwear.

"And I have to go," you continued. "My deadline's today."

"Do you want me to drive you to work? I can take you home first to get changed."

"No don't worry, clearly you have a lot of… shit to deal with." You walked up to him, standing between his parted legs and placing your hands on his shoulders.

You leant down to give him a peck, but instead he pulled you into a deep, hot kiss.

"So…" he whispered against your lips. "I'm flying out to LA tonight."

You didn't reply.

"And I'll be there for two weeks…"

Your heart sank, but you pretended it didn't bother you. "Well I hope you have a nice time."

You turned to walk away but he pulled you back against him with a laugh, his hands on your backside.

"Can I see you when I get back?" he asked.

"Hm, I don't know. Two weeks is a long time and I get bored easily, remember?"

He squeezed your bum and growled playfully.

You laughed and gave a small huff. "Yes. I'll be... anxiously awaiting your call."

He smirked and let you go, watching as you continued to pace the room. "Quinn…"

"Yes?"

"Your knickers are over here under the bed."

#benedict cumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch fanfic #benedict cumberbatch smut #benedict cumberbatch imagine #benedict x reader #benedict cumberbatch x you #benedict cumberbatch x reader #smut #smut fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic series #lemon #Benedict Cumberbatch x OC #the feature

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faithinhome · 1 year

Text

Neighbor Next Door- Stephen Strange/Female OC

18+ | minors please DNI

Summary: anna had always thought the doctor next door was attractive. and one interaction left her itching to get more of him.

Tags: age gap (25F & 40M), cheating (but not in the way you’d think), strong language, smut, some toxic shit.

Chapter 7: Hesitation

anna could barely keep her eyes open so stephen let her rest and stayed with her, beside her, not wanting to leave her alone.

he wondered if her friends were looking for her? he pulled out his phone and texted sam, typing nervously.

how would he react?

‘hey sam. in case you’re looking for anna. she’s with me. we snuck into a room and she’s asleep and i’m just here watching over her.’

sam’s response was immediate. ‘is she okay?’

‘yes, totally okay. but i don’t wanna leave her while she’s knocked out.’ and literally naked.

but he didn’t want to mention that.

‘i have to ask, did you guys just have sex?’

strange blushed, cussing himself mentally. he wanted to keep this a secret for whatever reason.

‘we did.’

stephen chewed down on his lip as he typed out another text. ‘please don’t tell anyone else’

‘i just told wanda.’

‘that’s okay but no one else please. everyone still thinks me and christine and are married.’

‘don’t you think they would have seen you sneak up?’

stephen sighed to himself. he should have thought of that.

‘yeah. i just don’t want them to get any more confirmation.’

‘okay. did she seriously pass out right after you guys had sex?’

‘yup.’

‘wow. good job doc.’

stephen blushed and shook his head, biting back a smile.

he glanced over at anna once before opening his photos, going through his pictures with christine.

he hadn’t been able to shake off that sadness ever since he locked eyes with anna while he was on top of her.

he’d felt so euphoric. it was so good. he loved it, he wanted more.

and that made him feel even worse. the sex had been more intimate than he’d thought. who knew that the word baby girl was going to feel so personally intimate? but it had felt right, it still felt right.

tears started blurring stephen’s vision as he continued to look at her pictures. what was he doing? he had no idea what was happening to him. he’d been cheated on again and again. but he was too hesitant to want to get a divorce. he didn’t want to be away from christine.

but he’d just had sex with anna, which would have been okay if it didn’t feel so emotional. he left his phone and went to the attached bathroom to wash his face.

anna began to stir, a slow smile drawing on her face as she remembered what had just happened.

“fuck” she squinted her eyes as the glaring brightness of the phone irritated her.

she blinked softly and hitched herself up on her elbow, her eyes landing on a picture of christine on stephen’s phone.

her eyes began to water as her chest tightened. seriously? god, she felt so humiliated.

she sat up, starting to get dressed slowly, tears falling down her face.

“anna” stephen’s voice made her turn around.

“what the fuck, stephen?” anna sobbed as she grabbed her own phone before pointing at his. “what the fuck? how long have you been sitting here looking at her? right after you fucked me in your friend’s bed? are you fucking serious? was i that fucking awful you couldn’t wait to look at her again?”

anna knew whatever she would say right now, she would regret it later. but her feelings were so strong, she couldn’t think rationally. she didn’t know why, but this hurt so much.

“no god, anna no” strange shook his head and approached her. “please, no.”

she swatted his hand away. “sorry i’m not as fucking pretty as her, okay? i’m fucking sorry. but you shouldn’t have brought me here if you felt that way.”

“anna no, you know i don’t feel that way.”

“do i?” anna snapped. “it’s always been christine over me. you parade me around like i’m some sort of a fucking side whore.”

“anna, please-“

“you just fall back onto me whenever you fucking need it! other times, you kick me aside like i’m dirt. i’m not your little whore, you perv! fuck you!”

anna stormed past stephen and unlocked the door, leaving.

stephen rubbed his hands over his face. how could he have been such an idiot?

***

“what did you guys even talk about?” wanda asked softly.

sam and wanda had followed anna when they’d seen her try to leave the venue distraught. now, they were back at her apartment, both sitting on each side of her.

“nothing” anna sniffled as sam handed him a warm cup of tea. “thanks, sammy.”

“did he like, was he flirting?”

“i mean, i kinda started flirting with him. and he was reciprocating? but it was more or less sexual talk.”

“still, i don’t understand why you’re so distraught over it.” wanda confessed.

“i know” anna whined, her own outburst replaying in her head. she felt so stupid for having lashed out like that. why was she acting like he’d confessed his love to her when all they did was have drunken sex? “i fucked up. i yelled at him. said a bunch of shit. called him a perv. i don’t even know why. i was the one fucking a married man.”

“took the both of you” sam interjected. “besides, you’re not wrecking a marriage or anything.”

“yeah i know.”

“it’s okay. you’d just had mind blowing sex and woken up from a nap and boom, the bitch is in your face.”

anna chuckled softly. “but i completely embarassed myself. i finally got what i wanted and i blew up on him like we’ve been married for 20 years and he’s hooked on an ex.”

“i mean he’s snapped at you a few times too so, tit for tat i guess.”

“yeah but you don’t understand” anna sighed. “he’s probably never gonna wanna fuck me again.”

the other two exchanged looks, not sure what to say.

“that good, huh?” wanda chuckled.

“oh yeah” anna sighed dreamily. “you were right when you said grown men do it best. probably the best sex i’ve ever had.”

“ouch.”

anna gasped, her cheeks blushing. “no i- i meant with like, a man”

wanda laughed. “i’m just joking, annie. sorry, it was in bad taste.”

anna shook her head, looking down at her tea.

that exchange was so awkward, it was almost painful. she didn’t know why wanda would bring it up.

“i’m a mess. i’m so sorry guys” anna let out a soft breath. “you two had to leave the party to babysit me. that’s been happening a lot recently. im so so sorry. you guys don’t have to be here. please go-“

“shut up, annie” sam rolled his eyes. “no one cares about that party. we care about the details. tell us everything.”

“but-“

“nope. no whining.”

“can i at least say thank you?”

“hm, i’ll think about it. done. no, you can’t.”

anna laughed and kept her mug aside, giving sam a hug. “you’re the best.”

“um, gross.”

anna pouted before hugging wanda. “wanda’s always been my favourite, anyway.”

and just like that, anna’s friends were able to take her mind off of what had happened. the bad parts of it, anyway. and she did end up telling them everything.

sam couldn’t stop laughing at the fact that his best friend referred to him as daddy the entire time.

“sam, shut up” anna whined, rolling her eyes.

“i’d die before i call a man that.”

“okay, and that’s you.”

“and should be you.”

“sam, stop pestering her” wanda chuckled. “stephen’s a dilf.”

“he’s not a dad” sam retorted.

“you don’t get it, do you?” wanda sighed. “dilf is a.. it’s a vibe. a state of being.”

“am i a dilf?”

anna giggled at that, “sure, sam.”

“so how big was it?” sam asked excitedly, running a finger up his arm slowly. “tell me when to stop.”

“sam shut up” anna lightly smacked his arm. “you’re gross.”

“i’m not the one calling men daddy.”

“one man.”

wanda left to get them some snacks and sam’s phone buzzed. he picked it up, seeing it was stephen. this was definitely a little weird. stephen and him were practically friends. and he’d just hooked up with her best friend and they were constantly going at it with each other, and he was in the middle of it all.

good thing he loved drama.

dr. armani suit: hey sam, is she okay?

sam: anna? yeah. she’s p embarassed by what happened.

dr. armani suit: why’s she embarrassed? does she regret it?

sam huffed to himself and went to edit stephen’s name, the suit was so unnecessary and it was annoying.

sam: oh no. she’s embarrassed about how she blew up on you.

dr. armani: i mean she had every right to

sam: nah we all agreed she was wayyy out of line. but i mean christine could have def waited too

dr. armani: i know but i’m in such a tough spot right now

sam: that’s true. but she’s fine. she’s embarassed and guilty about lashing out at you, if anything. rest easy, she’s not blaming you. no one is.

dr. armani: thanks, sam. have a good night. i’m sorry that your night got ruined.

sam: don’t sweat it. thanks for inviting us.

“what’re you doing?” anna asked, peeking over at sam’s shoulder.

“first of all, rude” sam put his phone aside. “also, that was strange. he was asking if you’re okay.”

“and?”

“and i told him you’re fine and regret what you said. he thinks you had every right to lash out. i mean, just go apologize to him tomorrow, i guess.”

“how?”

“i mean, just knock, say sorry? is this your first time issuing an apology?”

“snacks!” wanda announced as she came in.

“thanks, wands.”

she grabbed a bag of doritos.

“i can’t just show up at his doorstep.” anna continued before popping a dorito in her mouth.

“who cares? christine’s a pathetic excuse for a wife.”

“only if you say so.”

“i’ll be on standby with 911 in case a bitch fight ensues” wanda chimed in and anna laughed.

anna still felt pretty embarassed by her outburst. and she really needed to sit down and assess her feelings. it didn’t seem like stephen was going to get over christine any time soon. so, what did she feel toward stephen? and if it was just infatuation or sexual attraction, why did it hurt so much for her to find out he was looking at christine’s picture?

***

anna pushed those thoughts aside. she’ll figure these feelings out later. right now, she was perfectly fine just eating them away.

the next day, it was anna’s turn to apologize. she groaned to herself as soon as she woke up, squinting her eyes against the sunlight.

she hated being on this end of the situation. apologies were hard.

she started debating it. did she really need to apologize? stephen had fucked up twice now and she only did it once. so, shouldn’t that just balance things out?

despite how tempting that idea sounded, anna admitted it was ridiculous. she knew despite what anyone else does, she needs to hold herself accountable for what she does regardless.

it was just that showing up at the man’s door and talking to him knowing his wife was at home did not sound like a good idea at all.

she didn’t want any confrontation with christine. anna was easily intimidated.

but it wasn’t really a problem because stephen had showed up at her door.

“oh my god stephen hi” anna was surprised when she opened the door to a concerned looking stephen. “i- i wanted to apologize for last night.”

she wondered why she never checked the door hole to prepare herself for who was on the other side.

“you don’t have to” stephen shook his head. “i just wanted to check on you and see how you’re doing.”

“i’m okay, just been regretting my um, outburst last night.” anna stepped back, “please come in.”

and he did.

“you really have nothing to be sorry about” stephen said as he followed anna to the dining room.

“but i do” anna sighed, turning around to face stephen. “i just. it wasn’t right what i did. you’re married to her. we just hooked up. but that’s your wife. it was extremely irrational and unfair to you. especially with all that you’re going through.”

strange studied anna’s features, a fluttering sensation in his chest. he wondered if he was attracted to anna in more than one way?

“it’s okay” he spoke softly, heart melting at her kindness. “we were drunk. you’d just had um, you know, with your neighbor. and you were groggy from a nap.”

anna couldn’t help but smile at the way he refused to say the word and the way his cheeks were tinted rose after he didn’t say it.

“i’m sorry, stephen. i truly am.”

“it’s okay, anna” stephen smiled. “i still don’t blame you.”

anna smiled back, feeing the awkwardness creep in. now, what? they’d slept together? and he was fucking magnificent. and she’d called him daddy. where the hell were they supposed to go from here? and most of all, she wanted to know, did he still love christine? it felt like anna couldn’t make sense of her own feelings if she didn’t know what he was feeling.

“please sit” anna smiled, motioning to a chair. “funnily enough, i have cupcakes.”

stephen chuckled and thanked her as he sat down. “what is it with our apologies and cupcakes?”

anna laughed as she brought the box to the table before sitting beside him, and facing him. “so, how are things going with christine? how are you feeling?”

stephen picked up some paper towel and a cupcake, his smile melting with the question. “i’m not sure what’s happening to be honest. we’re not speaking to each other about anything other than stuff that we need to talk to each other about. well, i’m not. she tries throughout the day to talk to me to get me to forgive her and give her another chance.” he left the part about where she constantly blamed anna. “and i honestly don’t even know what to do. where to start. there’s just such a resentment built up. but it’s hard. it’s hard to… leave her.”

stephen lowered his head as he said that. it felt as if he was doing disservice to anna by admitting to that. like it was going to hurt her feelings. he wasn’t quite sure what the dynamic between them was anymore.

why did she get mad at him for looking at christine when she thought last night was just a hook up?

and why was stephen afraid of breaking her heart? where was this even going?

“do you… still love her?” anna asked hesitantly, her voice low.

shit.

he knew what the answer was. he was just terrified to admit it to her. again, like it would break her heart. but she deserved honesty.

“yeah” he sighed, closing his eyes.

anna’s heart sank, a lump forming in her throat. she didn’t know why this saddened her so much.

“but i also hate her” stephen added, opening his eyes. “i don’t love her like i used to. but there’s a part of me that does. that’s why this is so hard.”

anna took a sharp inhale, looking away. she felt like she was going to cry. she’d fucked up. she’d fucked up so bad. she knew she’d caught feelings for him. and it sucked. he was in love with someone else. what was she doing?

“i understand” she cleared her throat, trying to swallow the painful lump away. “i’m so sorry, stephen. is there anything i can do to help?”

“well” stephen moved his cupcake around, looking up at anna. “what you did last night definitely helped.”

anna gasped and stephen cracked a smile.

“oh my god” anna laughed. “you can’t be serious right now.”

“hey, you asked.”

what did this mean? did he want to keep doing it?

“does she know?”

“oh no. trust me, you don’t want her to know.”

anna laughed, her cheeks warming up. she had no idea what to say next.

“um, i should get going” stephen spoke before getting up. “i gotta go pick up some stuff.”

vague.

“okay” anna’s heart dropped. she loved being around the man.

“thanks for the cupcake, anna.”

anna’s heart skipped a beat when he said her name. she smiled widely, and it almost felt like an involuntary response to him saying her name. “of course”

she led him to the door, opening it up for him. “and remember, i’m always here for you.”

stephen smiled. “thank you, i appreciate that.”

***

it bothered anna that there weren’t a lot of times that hers and stepehen’s paths crossed. they didn’t work together, didn’t go to the same places. it was always an effort trying to get to see him.

she stayed at her apartment all done up around the clock, anticipating for him to come. but the wife. the cheating, unfaithful wife had established this entitlement over strange.

she understood. they’re still married, but after you do something so many times, do you really still maintain your right to have certain wife entitlements? or do you eventually lose them after a point?

her phone buzzed as she worked but she didn’t look. after she was done and sat back in her couch, stretching. she picked up her phone, her heart skipping when she saw his text. ‘you wanna go somewhere sometime? maybe the beach? the weather’s perfect for it.’

anna immediately sat up, a smile stretching across her face.

‘i’d love to.’

stephen’s response was quick. ‘great. do you wanna go today?’

‘right now?’

‘how much time do you need?’

‘i mean i could get ready now.’

anna was ready, alright. she’d kept herself ready in case they had another spur of the moment meet up, like they usually did.

‘okay, i’ll see you in 30?’

‘sounds good.’

anna’s heartbeat was through the roof. why did she feel so nervous when it came to stephen? she constantly craved for this presence and his touch but whenever it was presented, she got so nervous.

unless there was alcohol involved. and right now, neither of them were drunk.

anna’s phone buzzed.

‘oh and wear the same pink swimsuit?’

anna gasped at the text, letting out a soft laugh. he made her feel so…wanted.

‘anything you want’ anna texted back.

‘i mean, wear whatever you want. you just looked really stunning in that piece.’

anna laughed. the man was too sweet for his own good.

she put her phone away and started to get a small bag ready with essentials. she changed into the swimsuit that strange had obviously taken notice to the first time she’d shown up at his door.

she watched herself in the mirror before squealing excitedly. she loved how he made her feel. she pulled a long, brown chiffon over her suit and grabbed her bag.

anna sat in her living room, opening her friends’ group chat as she waited for stephen.

anna hath-a-way: guys!!! he just asked to go to the beach together!!

there was no response and anna huffed impatiently, she could really use some moral support right now.

her heart leaped when she heard the doorbell ring. anna got up and smoothed her hair before opening the door, smiling, “h-hi.”

stephen was dressed in a tank top and a pair of shorts, and anna had to consciously make sure her jaw wasn’t on the floor.

he was so toned.

she couldn’t believe she’d had sex with this guy the previous night. he felt so incredibly out of her league right now.

“ready?” stephen smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. like he knew what he was doing to her.

of course he knew. cocky bastard.

anna smiled, her cheeks flushing. “let’s go.”

***

anna stayed away from the ocean. she’d decided to just sit and try her best to look pretty. she’d had practice, so the short notice didn’t bother her much.

she was not about to swim in front of stephen during the first proper time they hung out, because she knew she’d be a total mess and not classy and hot at all.

but she was more than okay watching stephen swim. she studied the man as he walked out of the ocean, running his fingers through his wet hair.

this felt like a movie.

time seemed to have slowed down as anna ran her eyes up and down his body. his swim trunks stuck close to his crotch and anna tried her best to keep her eyes up top. she studied the way the water droplets sat on his skin. it was a beautiful sight. god, he was so fucking hot.

anna cleared her throat and looked away as stephen approached closer, picking up her bottle of sunscreen.

“you sure you’re not gonna swim?” stephen asked as he stepped beside her, grabbing a towel from his bag.

“i’ll sit this one out” anna smiled up at him as she rubbed some sunscreen on her arms. “besides, it’s lovely to watch you do it.”

stephen laughed, his cheeks flushing.

he sat next to her and anna’s breath hitched.

now, what?

small talk?

anna had mostly talked to stephen while she was drunk, or when they were apologizing to one another.

where was this even going? they were clearly flirting. had he called her to specify what was happening between the two?

“you look beautiful” stephen leant back in his chair, glancing over at anna.

anna blushed, biting her lip. “thank you.”

her voice was quiet. she was not her usual confident self. she didn’t know just how much this man intimidated her now that she was completely sober.

stephen looked away, chewing his bottom lip in thought. he wasn’t sure what was happening either. he just knew he wanted to be around anna.

“how are… how are things?” anna spoke softly, looking up at the man.

“things are… okay” stephen sighed.

there was the elephant in the room that they were both thinking of but not mentioning.

“christine treating you okay?” anna asked softly, hesitation clear in her voice.

stephen laughed, looking out at the ocean. “not really. she’s..she’s been extremely suffocating.”

“i’m sorry” anna frowned. “you know i’m here for you too, right? not just for .. the fun parts of it.”

stephen smirked at that, still keeping his gaze up ahead. “so you’re having fun, huh?”

anna laughed. “are you not?”

stephen finally glanced over at her. “so much fun.”

anna’s smile grew wider.

“why don’t you move out?” anna suggested. “if you feel too suffocated? maybe stay apart for a few days?”

“like at a hotel?”

“sure.”

“i mean, i could” stephen looked thoughtful. “that’s not such a bad idea.”

“i could help you out.”

“thank you” stephen smiled. “but i think it’s better i ask sam? i don’t want you getting involved so christine can harass you again.”

anna nodded, looking down at the sand.

"does she know about us?"

"no" stephen looked down. "its better that way. she's been acting, and i hate to say this, because she's my wife, but she's been acting crazy."

anna felt her heart sink. he was still hesitant about speaking a certain way about his "wife." or maybe he was just being respectful.

anna knew it wasn't that she was looking for anything serious, she’d made that clear to everyone ever since she’d first developed her crush. but it really did seem like she was falling for him. but she couldn't pull away. she was really digging herself a deeper hole every time she flirted with him. she wondered how he felt about all of this, but was too scared to ask.

"but" stephen spoke up again. "you don't have to worry about any of that. its my crap, and i’ll deal with it. i don't want you to be burdened by it."

"that's really sweet," anna smiled, glancing over. "but i am a part of this, you know? so, i kind of have to concern myself with the details."

stephen looked over, concerned about what that meant. "right, of course. i mean if you want to know, i’ll answer any questions you have, of course."

anna looked down. her heart was racing. of course she had questions and this was her chance to just be straight forward. but she felt so scared, like she was invading his personal matter.

"its hard for you as is, i don't want to be invasive" anna started with a sigh. "but um, are you looking to divorce her? or is this just like a temporary break thing?"

stephen swallowed quietly, he had no idea what to say.

"i don't know" he sighed. "it’s still all too early."

"so there's a chance you guys might stay together?"

"i...i really don't know" stephen sighed. "the obvious option is to separate. but its hard because we've been together for so long and...i don’t know."

"then, what am i?" anna couldn't hold it back anymore.

stephen looked over, confused. "what do you mean?"

"what do i mean?" anna shook her head. "what is my role supposed to be here? what do i do if you guys end up back together?"

"i...i don't know what to say anna" stephen frowned. "isn't this...what you wanted?"

anna opened her mouth but shut up as she thought about the statement more. he was right. she was the one that was constantly pursuing him.

"anna, my wife cheated on me for the second time," stephen reasoned. “and that's just the times i know of. she's obviously done it more times. this is not easy for me. i don’t have any clear answers for you right now. but we don’t have to keep hanging out if you don’t want to."

anna was glad that stephen was being reasonable because she was about to get emotional again and react in a not so spectacular way.

"you're... you’re right," anna sighed. "i'm sorry. this is already hard enough for you."

"don't be, you have the right to question me about this," stephen murmured. "but really, you don't have to keep... you know, hanging around. we can stop...this."

"i...i like being with you" anna confessed. "i guess i was just curious. i haven't thought any of this through. but all i know is that i really enjoy being around you, with you."

stephen smiled, looking over at anna. he swept his legs to the side of his chair, feet meeting the ground. he leaned forward, placing a hand over anna's. "i feel the same way. but i dont want you to do something that you're uncomfortable with."

anna's heart leapt when stephen leant in closer. she looked down at his hand over her own. “no, i'm not uncomfortable. i just, i dont know. i was just curious."

now, annna was afraid that she was going to lose whatever it was that they had, because she’d raised a concern about her place. and she really didn't want to lose this, so she tried to play off her earlier questioning.

"i'm not entirely convinced by that" stephen responded.

anna looked up at him. "what do you mean?"

"i'm not entirely convinced you're okay with what we’re doing. and i dont want to be selfish."

"you're not being selfish at all. i want to be here."

"i dont want to hurt you, anna."

anna took a sharp inhale, looking away.

she thought about what he said, her heart sinking. why was this affecting her so much? "do you think you'll hurt me?" she asked quietly.

stephen looked at her with admiration. he wasn't letting it show, but he did not want to be away from her. he did not feel good saying that. but he had to be reasonable. he couldn't string her along and break her heart. just the possibility of her heart being broken didn't seem worth all of this.

"i feel like i already am."

anna pulled her hand away. "so, what do you wanna do?"

"maybe..we should stop hooking up?"

"we did that shit like once."

"i know" stephen smiled. "but i just mean like, the rest of it too. flirting and hanging out or whatever it is that we’re doing honestly. because i do not know what to call it."

"that easy for you to let me go, huh?" anna smiled sadly, her eyes stinging.

"anna, what? no, that's not what this is at all."

"let’s just go home," she inhaled before looking up at stephen, holding her tears back.

"anna, please don’t be upset. i'm doing this for you."

"i know" she smiled, but stephen noticed that it didn't reach her eyes. "let’s just go home, yeah?"

"okay" stephen hated that he'd already hurt anna. but if he'd kept this going, he would have probably hurt her more. as much as it sucked seeing her like this, he knew he’d made the right decision. anna had already been hurt in all of this.

…

a/n: i don’t know why zayn has just the right songs for my fanfic??? i hope you guys enjoyed this one. sorry for the constant conflict lol. but i like toxic. also it’s more fun when it’s a slow burn anyway. thank you so much for reading!! i’m so grateful for you all! 💗

also. if you aren’t being tagged even tho asked to be in the taglist, please let me know under here. i keep experiencing issues where i tag people and it just doesn’t work. or i tag them, it shows they’re tagged on my end but they don’t get a notification. also, if you want to be added or removed from the list, let me know!

link for the fic index: Neighbor Next Door

TAGLIST

@kentucky-criedfricken @sherlux @evelynrosestuff @thewinterpoet2 @lokislov3 @0p444ls @nabiiturner @withalittlehoney @lokiego @cemak @chocokitty

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sobeautifullyobsessed · 17 days

Text

'It's Not the Years, Honey - It's the Mileage'

a Whumped Doctor Strange one-shot

Inspired by a couple of pre Multiverse of Madness articles comparing Stephen Strange to Indiana Jones😉😁

genre: whump, hurt/comfort, light humor

rating: general audience

characters: Stephen Strange, Tess O'Neill (Healer of Kamar-Taj, OFC); established relationship; Cloak of Levitation

word count: 1.9k

It was supposed to have been date night, but Stephen was overdue. Three hours overdue. Again. Tess had taken these things in stride, right from the start. After all, you can’t be lucky enough to be the significant other of the Sorcerer Supreme without being incredibly patient, understanding, and flexible. Besides which, he was always so adorable when he finally found his way home, sincere in his apologies, and more often than not, presenting her with a fresh bouquet, which he managed to conjure even before he uttered a single word. Tonight’s transgression was bound to be a two dozen roses mea culpa--and she just knew he’d make them her favorite: pale pink American Beauties.

Not that he ever needed to. His company was dear enough recompense for any time he kept her waiting. Except for the worrying, of course, but Tess had quickly adjusted to that, and so far she hadn’t made any complaint, no matter how late her Stephen managed to show up. She’d rather spend their precious time on more pleasant pursuits--and on showing him however she could, how happy he made her simply by being...him.

And so, Tess had adjusted down their plans. First, from dinner out and a movie, to take-out and the latest blu-ray release. And then from that, to something she could whip up, quick and easy, in the Sanctum’s smaller kitchen. Stephen was bound to be hungry when he arrived, and she had a hearty pot of stew simmering on the stove and a batch of honey cornbread ready to pop into the oven while he cleaned up.

Tess had just given the stew another stir, when she felt a tapping on her shoulder. She turned to find Cloak looking battle singed and...well...harried. How this being without a face could express such a wide range of emotions was a continual wonder to her--but right now her immediate reaction was to ask if Stephen was alright.

Cloak’s collar shook a clear ‘no’, and then it tugged at her arm, to get her moving. She turned off the stove and moved the stewpot to another burner, and followed Cloak down the grand staircase. And there sat Stephen on the third step, head bowed and shoulders hunched, his bloodstained tunic rent in several places. Tess’s heart leapt to her throat, though she tried to remain calm, realizing that he needed her as a Healer tonight, far more than as the woman who loved him.

She dropped to one knee in front of him, noting that the shelf of his jaw bore a dark bruise, and that he had a nasty cut across the bridge of his nose, a black eye and a split lip. “Hey,” she said softly, reaching her sure hands towards him, studying his wounds with practiced eyes, evaluating which she should address first. Thankfully, the blood on his clothing was dried, so that Tess concluded he wasn’t actively bleeding. “What happened,” she asked quietly, concerned to see him breathe shallowly, as breathing any deeper appeared to make him wince.

“You don’t wanna know,” he muttered, as she placed both of her palms on his chest and closed her eyes, searching for any internal damage.

“Ow...ow...ow...owwwwwwww,” he grumbled, “Is this really necessary?”

Cloak was flitting back and forth, giving the closest approximation of pacing as possible. “It certainly is, as well you know...Doctor.” To that he only grunted, then followed with a heavy groan when she palpated his lower ribs and abdomen. “Stephen,” she informed him patiently, “You’ve got at least three cracked ribs...”

“I know,” he replied curtly, “Don’t you think I know that?”

Tess tried to placate him. “Of course you do--but there’s no need to be pissy about it. It’ll just take a simple healing spell to start them knitting properly together.”

“I...know,” he repeated through gritted teeth, attempting to stand. Cloak had to swoop in to keep him from landing hard on his bottom.

Tess rose and wiped her hands on her denim capris. “Cloak, can you get him up to the infirmary, so I can take care of him properly?”

Cloak nodded, but Stephen had other ideas. “No infirmary--just get me to my room...”

Honestly, doctors really do make the worst patients, she thought, although she held her tongue, telling Stephen instead, “Nope. It’s the infirmary for you.” He huffed, but didn’t speak up. “And that’s Healer’s orders, Stephen. I outrank you in this, at least for the moment...”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled dismissively. He handed her his sling ring, “We can portal there--it’ll be quicker and a less bumpy trip than relying on...” He wagged his head in Cloak’s direction.

Tess had to suppress a chuckle, as Cloak’s reaction to that perceived insult was to turn its back to Stephen. “Alright,” she sighed, slipping his ring on and bringing the golden circle to life. She returned to his side and offered him a hand to help him stand up. “Just lean on me, and we’ll be there in a jiffy.”

She could feel his aversion to appearing so needy, even as he braced himself with an arm across her shoulders, but knew well that it wasn’t on her account. Stephen generally disliked showing weakness to anyone, although as their relationship had blossomed, his trust in her had been enough for him to reveal much of what he hid from the world behind sarcasm and bravado. Tess had always taken such precious trust as both a privilege and an honor. Stiff lipped against his pain and leaning on her heavily, they hobbled through the portal and Tess led him to sit on the nearest bed.

The infirmary was empty but for them, and she took a moment to close the portal, and then rushed to gather her supplies. Disinfectant and a basin of warm water, along with a washcloth and the softest, fluffiest towel she could conjure, for after she got him cleaned up. And bandages. Lots and lots of bandages. Tess returned to Stephen’s side to find him struggling to remove his tunic. She set down her things, telling him, “Here...let me...”

“I’ve...got...this.” he grunted, though it was clearly hurting him to raise his arms above his head.

“No. No you don’t,” she corrected him gently, “Please--just let me do my job, Stephen.”

“Alright...alright...” He did his best to relax as she worked the garment over his head and off. Tess gasped at the network of contusions across his shoulders and upper chest. “Dammit, Tess...that hurts!”

“I know, darling. I know.” To her relief, most of his bruises appeared superficial. “Let’s start by getting you cleaned up, okay.” Stephen nooded, and closed his eyes as she washed the cut on his nose, and several shallow scratches on his cheeks and chin, finally seeing to the split on his lower lip.

Next, she addressed the wounds on his back, circling behind him and perching on the edge of the bed. She was relieved again to find that they were rather shallow as well, and made quick work of cleansing them. Tess chose that moment to speak to him as his woman, rather than as a Healer. “You know--you’re extremely fit for a man your age, darling. But it wouldn’t hurt to be a little more careful out there.”

“It’s not the years, honey...” he snorted, “...it’s the mileage...” Stephen had stiffened despite her gentle approach, but when she applied the disinfectant, he hissed out a string of very un-Stephen-like curses.

“Don’t be such a baby,” she muttered, her patience beginning to strain.

“I’m not,” he responded petulantly.

Coulda fooled me, she thought, but bit back that retort. A few minutes more and she had his wounds properly bandaged. Tess set aside the basin and the towel, telling him, “Now let’s see about those ribs. Do you think you can lay back? It’ll be easier that way.”

“Of course I can,” he barked, “I’m not an invalid, you know.”

No, you’re just the crankiest Master of the Mystic Arts that I've ever encountered. Bravest and most selfless too, so I suppose I can forgive your churlishness.

He winced when she placed her hands on his shoulders, helping to ease him onto his back. Closing her eyes again, she skimmed her hands above the skin covering his damaged ribs, whispering the charm needed to bolster his body’s natural healing ability. Satisfied that she had succeeded once she could feel the spell take root, Tess pulled her hands away and opened her eyes. Stephen’s were closed, and his face had gone slack with a look of relief. Good enough, she concluded, hoping he would sleep a long while to aid in healing.

Still, she thought she could do a little something to speed the reduction in the nastiest of his contusions--and it would be best to try while he was asleep. She reached tentative fingers to Stephen’s right shoulder. His eyes flew open with a start, “Owwwwww...that’s still tender, you know!”

“I’m just trying to help...”

“Well...I don’t need a nurse anymore,” he groused, “I just want to sleep.”

“If you let me see to these now, you’ll feel much better in the morning...” Tess trailed her fingertips along his jaw, channeling her own energy into relieving his pain. “Any better?”

"A little,” he pouted, “But it hurts...almost everywhere...”

There seemed to be no pleasing him this way--but still, it was her nature to try. Exasperated, she blurted out, “Well, dammit, Stephen--where doesn’t it hurt?”

Looking defiant, he showed her his elbow, “Here.” Tess laid the softest kiss she could upon it.

“And...and here,” he added, pointing to his forehead, his whole demeanor softening in response to her tenderness. Cautiously, Tess leaned in and planted a loving kiss there. Momentum had turned in her favor.

Stephen pointed to his un-blackened eye, “Um...here?”

Tess smiled softly, watching his eyes flutter shut, and then brushed her lips as lightly as she could upon his eyelid. There was a moment as her face hovered over his, and the look when he opened his eyes made her heart start to melt--for within their mercurial depths, she saw both gratitude and an apology for his childish behavior. Stephen tapped his lips and murmured, “Here.”

She wondered if he felt her indulgent smile as their lips finally met, but before too long their kiss had gone from chaste to something deeper and more enduring, as he relaxed completely under her loving ministration. When she finally pulled away, Tess found that her kiss had worked a magic of its own, and her beloved Stephen was out like a light.

Tess arose and draped the sheet across him lightly, then levitated the next bed over and landed it flush against his. Her hunch was that he’d sleep through the night, but she wanted to be close by if he should need her.

Come morning, she awoke to find him gone--can’t keep a good Sorcerer down for long, she mused--but in his place, he’d left three dozen pale pink American Beauties, and a small piece of handwritten parchment. It was brief but to the point:

Thank you, honey. For everything. Love - your Stephen xx

tagging: @hithertoundreamtof23 @stewardofningishzida @ironstrange1991 @mousedetective @aphroditesdilemma @icytrickster17 @groovyqueer @battledress @aelaer @mckiwi @couldntbedamned

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rainydaycafe · 11 months

Text

A Shaken Espresso, Please

Pairing: Professor! Stephen Strange au x OC fem! graduate school student (and barista)!

Summary: Professor Strange has a reputation that proceeds him and a finicky taste for off-campus coffee. Enter a graduate school attending barista. This is their story.

Warnings: age difference (older Stephen), and an inhumane amount of fluff with tumultuous thoughts

A/N: hope u enjoy and hope it alters ur existence- send me prompt requests for this story or others and I'll kiss u !

Chapter 2

Professor Stephen Strange had many reputations.

All of them were accurate descriptions of his person, admittedly. Even if a few of them were a bit hyperbolic and created by those students who were unable to properly keep up with the academic rigor his courses demanded.

Regardless of these various titles- arrogant, belittling, hardass, irritable, impatient, demanding, extremely intelligent, omnipotent, and plenty more- he was a damn good professor.

There was a reason why every semester he had an extremely long waitlist of students praying for a spot within his lecture hall and plenty of emails of students looking for a reason to jump the waitlist.

His ability to teach and to demand only the best was something that somewhat masochistic college students sought despite their better judgment because he truly was the best of the best.

Everyone knew that his reputation was hard earned as it was common knowledge that Stephen Strange had graduated high school and undergrad a year early. Excelling high above his elder peers in medical school and in his internship before there was an accident before his residency matching which caused him to settle into the life of a well respected professor at Dartmouth College.

Those who can’t do, teach.

Neuroscience was his playground, and the biological sciences department was just what he needed to teach courses full of the select few who would actually do well in their hopeful careers.

Despite his intolerance for laziness and inability to understand it- Stephen did enjoy teaching. It was always a plus to inspire the newest generation of the scientific community.

Emilia, however?

She was completely oblivious to the very existence of Professor Strange and that reputation that followed him around campus.

Stepping into Professor Barlow’s office on the third floor of the English department, she expected to receive the weekly quizzes Professor Barlow asked her to grade but instead she received the quizzes and a manilla folder.

“The manilla folder is more of a favor for me,” Barlow said, “Would you be able to take this to Professor Strange? It’s a transfer request acceptance. Since he’s the head of the biological sciences department, he needs to sign off on the approval like I did,”

“Oh sure,” Emilia said with a smile, “Where can I find him?”

“Oh shit what time is it even?” Barlow said pulling up his sleeve, “I don’t really know his schedule but if he’s not in his office on the fourth floor then he’ll preparing a lab, I believe,”

Emilia told him she’d find him and left Professor Barlow with a wave which he returned.

Professor Barlow was never meant to be the professor she TA’d for considering the fact that she had rescinded her application to be a TA after obtaining a better job elsewhere but apparently her email went unopened because a week before the semester she was the TA to the head of the English department.

He was kind, however, so she didn’t have the heart to just quit and leave him without a TA for a course he so desperately needed one for.

So she stayed and she was able to find the balance between her job at the cafe and as a TA quite easily since Professor Barlow wasn’t one to rely on TAs too heavily so she just did the little tasks he asked of her.

The biological sciences department wasn’t one Emilia had ever actually stepped foot in. Or near. So she had to bring up the campus’ map to find where it actually was which happened to be across campus so she made the trek.

The elevators happened to be commandeered by busy students so she huffed her way up the stairs and took a bit of a break leaning on a nearby wall to gather her breath because those stairs were no joke.

For a department so well loved and funded a person would assume their stairs would be less steep somehow.

Deep inside Emilia hoped he would be in his office because she wasn’t sure where the labs were so it would save her some time to find him somewhere that had a label with his name.

Now that she thought about it as she read the plaques outside of the doors, she had no idea what the man even looked like so she couldn’t even look for him in the labs…

Before she thought herself into a spiral, she read the name Stephen V. Strange PhD & MD on a plaque.

What could the V be for?

StephenVery Strange? That got a bit of a giggle out of her but she straightened up because it wasn’t kind to make fun of the names people had.

Emilia took a confidence boosting breath and knocked on the shut door.

And waited.

“Come in,” a deep voice said and Emilia grimaced a bit before opening the door to reveal a man typing away at his computer, not bothering to even glance up at her which was a bit rude perhaps.

“Are you here to have me read over your lab report for Navigational and Spatial Orientation?” He asked.

“Uh- no. I’m here for Professor Barlow. He asked me to bring this over to you,” Emilia said, waiting for him to actually look up from his computer to hand him the folder so she didn’t look like too much of an idiot.

He did, thankfully, and man was he handsome.

Taking the envelope, Stephen’s gaze lingered on Emilia, and she couldn’t help but feel like she was being studied and she moved her own gaze elsewhere towards the line of books placed on shelf as he opened the file.

“Mmm, yes, the student who is transferring his master’s from neurobiology to… English,” Stephen said as his eyes glanced at the words, “I got an email about this and meant to respond but I put it off long enough to just forget,”

Unsure of what to say, Emilia watched him quietly as he read through the words carefully. He had broad shoulders and nice hair. She quickly snapped herself out of those thoughts.

“You’re not a biological sciences student, are you?” Stephen asked, looking up from the paperwork to pay her his full attention.

“No, not at all,” Emilia answered with a shake of her head, feeling a bit nervous.

“I didn’t think so. I would have recognized you. What are you studying?” Stephen asked curiously as his eyes took in her features. Something about the way she seemed to curl under his attention made him want to give her more.

“English. I’m working towards my masters in English,”

“English. I never understood the appeal of sitting around and discussing what Keats meant in this poem or what was implied,” Stephen told her with a bit of a smile as he leaned back in his chair, “Seems like an endless discussion,”

“It’s not for everyone,” Emilia said with a shrug, not finding herself in the mood to defend her chosen career path.

It wasn’t the first time someone had spoken ill about her career, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“The sciences never caught your attention?” Stephen asked with genuine curiosity since he couldn’t imagine a life where it hadn’t caught his own full attention.

Emilia thought for a moment, attempting to find the words without being disrespectful towards Stephen’s career and studies as he observed her and got an eyeful.

“I was never very good. I barely passed high school chemistry and intro to biology in undergrad,” Emilia confessed, “I also don’t do well with math,”

Stephen huffed out a bit of a laugh, “You just needed teachers who taught well and thoroughly,” He said as he turned to grab a pen to sign off on the indicated line where Professor Barlow had helpfully highlighted in a bright pink circle he knew was meant to mock.

Considering the fact Emilia didn’t know how to add fractions or any math after long division, she knew she had always been a lost cause but there was no need to have him think she had even more shortcomings so she kept it to herself.

Shutting the folder, Stephen handed it to her.

“Tell Barlow that I wish Damien the best of luck reading all of those books and poems,” Stephen said, “He wasn’t up to neuroscience, I suppose it wasn’t for him,”

Emilia knew he was teasing her own words and despite her strong will to avoid it, she blushed and took the envelope and looked down.

“I will tell him, Professor. Have a nice day,” Emilia said with a smile and short wave that Stephen returned with amusement in his eyes before taking her leave and all but sprinting down the hallway towards the stairs.

Going down the steps, Emilia sighed a bit to herself.

There was something almost damning and humiliating when it came to finding someone unobtainable attractive but then adding the fact that they thought little to nothing of your major was really just the icing on the cake.

Looking up to the pretty blue sky, Emilia took a deep breath and decided she’d dwell on it while walking to work after dropping off the damn manilla folder to Professor Barlow.

Unbeknownst to her, Stephen was watching her from the window in his office with a smile as she made her way back to what he assumed was Professor Barlow’s office.

__________

“He actually signed it right away?” Professor Barlow asked in shock, his freshman English student who he had been helping sat quietly watching the conversation, “He usually takes at least two days and even then I have to chase him around,”

“He also said to tell you that he wishes the best of luck to Damien reading all of the books and poems,” Emilia told him.

“Yeah that sounds much more like Stephen. Curious that he actually signed it, but maybe he liked someone’s company,” Professor Barlow teased, but Emilia just smiled because she knew there was no way her presence in what had to be a holy office in the biology department would be enjoyed.

_____________

Pinching the bridge of his nose as he exited the lecture hall, Stephen glanced at the clock on the wall and saw it was definitely time for a bit of a caffeine trip because he had not had his morning coffee in favor of tutoring a student.

With two hours until his next class, he quickly made his way through the building without bothering to glance at anyone in the hall since they’d just serve to make his blossoming headache even worse.

The on-campus Starbucks and other cafes would be chalked full of students and faculty so he decided his expedition would take him off campus to a smaller yet much more reliable cafe he had discovered the year prior.

Modern enough to have their own versions of lattes but not enough to be a bit too obsessed with coffee for his liking and comfort.

It was a 25 minute walk at a leisurely pace but he had never been one to walk leisurely anywhere so he made it in 18 minutes as he ran through his 4pm Ethical Conduct of Research.

This week they’d be discussing the ethics surrounding research on larger more developed animals to say a rat or a guinea pig.

Pulling the door open, his eyes quickly attached themselves to the menu to consider his options.

He had always been partial to a black coffee but had come to the realization that espresso had more impact on him and his energy levels.

Their shaken espressos had always got him through even the most tiresome of days so he thought it’d be unwise to stray.

As Stephen was so busy weighing out his flavor options, he didn’t notice who was standing behind the bar munching away on a banana as she read through her weekly reading for Comparative Lit and Criticism during some down time.

Attempting to make sense of Adorno’s criticisms, Emilia was completely focused but she was soon losing her focus when she heard a familiar voice ordering.

A voice she had heard a few hours ago.

“Hello, could I have a large chocolate malt shaken espresso? I’ll add a splash of half and half as well,” Emilia stared at him from over the edge of her reading to see Professor Strange ordering.

Hoping he wouldn’t notice her at all, Emilia kept her head down as Eliza wrote down “Stephen” on the cup and she began pulling the shots of espresso from the large machine.

Taking the cup from her coworker, Emilia began to work on the drink and willed herself to not even spare Professor Strange a glance because she didn’t want to gather any unwanted attention.

Thankfully it seemed that he was busy on his phone so she relaxed a bit as she gathered the ice into the shaker alongside the malt powder.

Stephen however was not an oblivious man which meant after he had checked his work email he looked up to see the barista was utterly familiar.

The same girl from earlier was working here, as fate had it. He still didn’t know her name, however, as she hadn’t introduced herself and he couldn’t see a nametag on her apron.

Smiling to himself, Stephen moved closer to the bar where she shook the espresso and ice together with her back to him before turning around, startling when she saw him there.

“I had no idea you worked here,” Stephen said casually watching her ministrations.

“Yeah, I’m a modern day jack of all trades,” She said without thinking, pausing when she realized, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound rude. It was more of a joke,”

“I didn’t think it was rude,” Stephen reassured, “I don’t see a nametag and I didn’t get your name earlier,”

Pouring the drink into the cup, she glanced up at him with a smile before looking back down, “Emilia,”

“Emilia?...” Stephen asked beckoning for her last name.

“Pearson. Emilia Pearson,” Emilia filled in before glancing at the cup where h/h was written, “Did you also want milk or just a splash of half and half?”

“Just half and half, please,”

Stephen smiled as she grabbed the half and half from a fridge somewhere underneath the counter and poured some in, showing it to him to see if it was enough.

“That’s perfect,”

Snapping a lid onto his drink, Emilia willed any caffeine loving God to make the drink good so he didn’t have any other reason to think little of her.

Stephen swirled the drink around before taking a sip, giving an appreciative nod.

“This is delicious, thank you, Emilia Pearson,” He said genuinely, “Have a nice day,”

Waving bye, Emilia watched as he took his exit and she soon turned her attention back to her reading and banana, but her mind was elsewhere.

She would have sworn that it was like a curse she had to find people that would never give her a second look attractive.

It reminded her of having a crush on a celebrity that would never bat an eye if they crossed paths with you in real life. But it never hurt to have celebrity crushes either, nobody was at fault for them being so damn attractive.

It was impossible to deny that the man was handsome, though. His intelligence was evident, adding to his overall attractiveness and she had barely learned of his existence today so she did not want to imagine how bad her crush would be in a few weeks.

However she knew she could be grateful that she would probably never encounter him again and that she was probably a piece of dust in his overall busy mind and life.

Of course there was going to be the off chance of encountering him again when he came around to the cafe, but there was no point in getting her hopes up so she turned her attention back to the reading entirely since she had a discussion post to answer before midnight.

As she didn’t think of him, Stephen pressed the crosswalk button as he took a sip from his coffee and smiled to himself.

With his work and his overall attitude towards romance Stephen had never been too caught up on dating or finding a partner as he hadn’t ever considered it and it had never been at the forefront of his mind.

Which isn’t to say he was considering dating Emilia, but as he crossed the street he wondered to himself if she happened to have a boyfriend or girlfriend to whom she went home to. Someone she confided in and felt relaxed around.

He didn’t think he’d mind being that person either as he began running through the upcoming lecture he had to give, knowing he’d be receiving emails requesting clarifications on this and that.

____

The following day was normal and Emilia was grateful as she corrected freshman English quizzes during the gap she had between lectures.

While it wasn’t too fun having three lectures back to back on Thursdays, the gap between the second and third gave her a chance to finish off assignments. Plus it freed up her Fridays so it meant she was able to work 7-4 and have the weekends off.

Considering the fact that the quizzes she had graded were pop quizzes given as punishment for speaking when Professor Barlow was speaking, she didn’t think they were all that bad.

In less than an hour she had finished the quizzes alongside the notes Professor Barlow liked to add either commemorating students for doing well or giving some bit of advice if they didn’t do too hot.

After the quizzes she felt she was on the brink of starvation so she quickly threw together a salad while blasting music as she sang around her kitchen and waited for the chicken to finish up in the oven.

“Green eyes, fried rice, I could cook an egg on you,” Emilia sang along as she danced around her kitchen, Late night, game time, coffee on the stove, yeah,”

Sure her kitchen dance moves could use a bit of work but considering the fact that they had never seen the light of day as she had only ever gone to a club once, she thought they were pretty fitting for Music For a Sushi Restaurant

Pausing, she pulled out the chicken and thought about whether Stephen ever danced around his kitchen but chose to push those thoughts aside because one: she didn’t think he seemed like the dancing type, and two: those thoughts wouldn’t lead to a good outcome.

All said and done, she was comfortably in bed relaxing by 9:30 scrolling through her phone after having checked multiple times that her front door was in fact locked and that it hadn’t magically unlocked itself.

Living alone was nice, subletting was even nicer when she didn’t have to pay the full amount of rent and she got to live only a few blocks off campus and only three and a half away from the cafe where she felt she spent an equal amount of time.

Waking up wasn’t ever an enjoyable experience- save for when there was something exciting happening but that rarely if ever happened so Friday morning made her wish she could just roll over and continue sleeping through the morning and into the early afternoon.

However her job awaited and all things considered, she really did enjoy paying for life’s necessities.

Despite her lack of enthusiasm, Emilia showed up that Friday and went about her job without too much hassle throughout the morning bustle that eventually weaned itself out into a much more manageable afternoon hum.

The morning rush was always heavier on Fridays which kept her busy since Maggie, the owner, was manning the pastry and sandwich area and Nora was on cashier Emilia was on her own but at least the rushes made her shift go by faster.

Her busyness meant she went about making drinks without bothering to think about them too much unless they had an alteration which she made a mental note about to avoid having someone practically slam themselves into the counter because God forbid there was too much ice in their latte.

Not even a large, malt chocolate shaken espresso with a splash of half and half.

“Stephen?” Emilia called out, sliding the coffee onto the pickup counter before her thoughts stuttered as it put together the drink and name.

Looking up for what had to be the first time in at least half an hour, she saw Professor Strange heading over to the pickup bar.

He had been watching her busily make drink after drink, calling out name after name, not glancing up for a second.

“Professor. Hi. Hi Professor,” Emilia said dumbly.

“Hi Emilia,” Stephen greeted, “Your hair looks nice today,” He noted her hair which was pulled back in two… French? Braids aside from a few strands which framed her face nicely.

“Oh. Thank you. I like your uh- I like your pants,” Mentally, Emilia slapped herself.

Complimenting pants was for the girls, not the guys.

“Well thank you, I didn’t know you could see them over this glass you can barely see over,” He teased her shorter stature and she smiled a genuine smile before apologizing.

“Sorry, it was the first thing which came to mind but I’m sure they are nice,” Emilia said as she walked over to grab another cup her coworker had kindly placed on the cup when Stephen’s next words were interrupted by a woman rushing up to the counter.

“Excuse me, sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt you two but I forgot to ask for oat milk on my caramel latte. I’ll get back in line to pay for it but I wanted to let you know before you make it,” A woman said from behind him, causing him to move away.

“Is it for Stacy?” Emilia asked and the woman nodded, “Okay, I’ll make it with oat milk but you don’t have to pay, it’s okay,” She told her as she waved it off and wrote the change of the order on the cup.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw the line had decreased and it was only the person left who was ordering aside from a couple of drinks left for those waiting.

“Did you like your drink?” Emilia asked as she turned her attention back to him, “If you didn’t I can remake it. I didn’t know it was for you or else I would have paid more mind to it,”

Sipping it again, he shrugged.

“It’s good, but I can tell it wasn’t made with love like it was on Wednesday,”

“Let me remake it-” Emilia started but he cut her off.

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” Stephen said with a grin, “It’s grand. Brilliant. You’re a lovely barista even when you don’t know it’s for me,”

Unable to find something to say, Emilia smiled bashfully and attempted to conceal her flustered complexion but Stephen was quick to see it.

“I have an undergrad intro course to teach in forty minutes, so I’ll see you soon,” Stephen explained as he glanced at his watch after feeling he had tortured Emilia enough but the flush on her cheeks was something he thought was cute. Sue him.

“Have a nice day, Professor Strange,” Emilia wished, and he wished her the same as he left with a smile.

The slight pep in his step made even the most tedious of courses seem not so bad since his coffee was great and he just felt giddy.

Emilia continued working, but every so often her thoughts would flutter off to Steph- Professor Strange and his presence in front of the bar that morning.

It had left quite the imprint on her mind and she couldn’t deny that.

However when she found herself getting a bit carried away with her thoughts and mentally admiring him for any reason, she caught herself and chastised herself for it.

Not only was the man a professor at the university she attended, she also knew well enough that she had absolutely no chance with him.

He was a professional and apparently in a league of his own so he wasn’t about to go around scraping the bottom of the barrel to date her or even consider dating her. It was useless to even think about it because it would only serve to disappoint her.

Professor Strange would never even think about her in such a way, she was just fooling herself with these tiny spurts of thought.

It wasn’t even funny to think about how little chance she actually stood.

But regardless, she still found herself smiling to herself when she thought about his smile and his teasing comments.

Work went by just a bit faster with that, and Emilia was grateful she was able to enjoy her weekend without a shift dragging on too much.

__________________

All things considered, Stephen did enjoy his profession. Regardless of the seemingly painstaking hours, faculty, and students it was truly as close to his dream as he would be able to get and it was one which commanded respect nonetheless.

Academia had never been his initial pursuit since right out of high school he did everything he could to be admitted into his top choice of medical school with as little delay as possible.

This was possible with both his work ethic and his eidetic memory at play, setting him well ahead of his peers and setting a good yet arrogant head on his shoulders because he was more than capable of succeeding in the medical world.

Internship had flown by, and as he had known since he was fourteen- he was meant to be in the neuroscience speciality specifically as a neurosurgeon.

That was until his car was flipped over at the age of 29 and his entire life was also flipped on its head like he found himself that Wednesday afternoon on his way to buy groceries.

Oftentimes when the accident had just happened and he was in recovery unable to bear the thought of looking at his hands he thought about what would have happened if he had just stayed home and made a sandwich with what was there.

But, like anything, it wasn’t enough and he needed more than what was already there.

Stephen knew that his accident sent a shock through everyone and he was soon in physical therapy attempting to overcome a tremor when he began deciding what was next.

Never having been wealthy, he needed to work somewhere but he knew it wouldn’t just be anywhere because someone with an MD and a PhD needed more than just a high school biology teacher.

There just wasn’t any way that he would allow years and years of painstaking work and sleepless nights go to waste all because one path had been blocked off by unforeseen circumstances.

Being a professor was his chosen plan “b”, but he had opted away from medical school because he knew that even medical school professors needed perfectly steady hands- especially in neuroscience.

While John Hopkins had been his home for a while, he didn’t want to stay there and just be a model of what happens when things go wrong.

It was true: those who can’t do, teach.

Stephen knew he was the perfect example of that but that didn’t mean he wanted to be needlessly reminded every 15 minutes by a curious freshman or an uppity colleague.

More than qualified, Dr. Strange became Professor Strange at the age of 29 (only a couple of months before his 30th birthday, but he still bragged) and he earned his reputation quickly and it was well deserved.

Stephen had never suffered fools, and becoming a professor was not going to change that.

The reputation soon began and followed him only a week after his first day when he had a student leave his classroom in tears after she was unable to recall what the hippocampus did as a future neuroscientist.

However Stephen had worked hard and he had encountered his fairshare of possibly demonic professors but they also happened to be the ones which shaped him into the surgeon he almost was and the professor he now was, so he stuck to it.

“I expect the discussion post to be answered by everyone tonight by midnight. I won’t accept late work. Have a nice day,” Stephen dismissed his lecture hall, praying to some force out there that nobody would stop to ask him about his opinion towards their drafted discussion post because he just wanted to get coffee before his next class.

Time was limited as when he checked only moments beforehand he only had an hour before his next lecture in an hour.

18 minutes to walk there and 18 minutes back needing to consider time to set up a couple of minutes before class… 24 minutes to get his coffee in between the two restricted times.

Thankfully he was able to make his exit painlessly and he found himself pulling the door to his favorite coffee shop only 15 minutes later, shaving off an entire 3 minutes.

Impressive.

Ordering his usual, Stephen was almost surprised to see Emilia out from behind the barista bar sitting at one of the tables with a few sheets of paper in front of her as she evidently corrected something.

A bit disappointed it wasn’t Emilia making his coffee, it soon disappeared as he went over and sat across from her, startling her.

“You’re out from the inside of your box,” Stephen said with a smile.

“Hi Professor Strange, I have a 20 minute break so I’m using it to finish off these quizzes for Professor Barlow,” She explained, “Freshman English is tough,”

Peeking over, he saw she had written a 62% in green marker at the top of the last test.

“62? Holy hell. I sure hope he isn’t a sciences major if he’s failing freshman English,” Stephen said, a bit of his arrogance slipping through, and for the first time in a long time he wished he had kept his mouth shut.

“It’s up from last time. He’s a good writer but he doesn’t test well,” Emilia attempted to defend with soft eyes, knowing that the transition into college level work was tough for some.

“Or he plagiarizes,” Stephen debated, “But I don’t think we should spend this time debating whether or not a freshman is using his brain. How are you? How has your day been? Any plans?”

This earned a smile from Emilia who set down her pen and rested her chin on her knuckles as she paid him his full attention which he really found himself enjoying.

“I am well, a bit tired, but my day has been pretty average. I’m off at 2 so I’m going to go home and take a nap because I couldn’t sleep well last night. After that I’m just doing some homework. Nothing crazy. How about you?”

Stephen pondered it as he looked at Emilia who waited patiently for his answer.

“I am also well and my day has been going well so far, although the lecture I taught before coming here dragged on a bit as early morning lectures tend to do but I have no complaints, much less now. After my last lecture which ends at 3 I’m going home to get ready for his PhD faculty dinner that I’m going to with Professor Palmer. Do you know her? She’s a microbiology and immunology professor,”

The intent listening expression Emilia had fallen, her hands dropping to the table where she grasped at her pen for the sake of doing something with her hands.

“No uh- I don’t really know anyone that’s a part of the science faculty aside from you,” Emilia told him as her gaze went down towards the table and for some unnameable reason, she felt out of her depth and foolish.

Stephen had noticed her change in demeanor and he didn’t know how he could change it back to how open and happy it had been just moments prior. He wasn’t given much time to think about it as his name was called from the pickup counter.

Taking this as her opportunity to leave, even if she still had 5 minutes left of her break, Emilia began cleaning up her papers as Stephen went to pick up his drink.

“Is your break over?” Stephen asked as he returned to see Emilia organizing her papers.

“Yeah, I have to get back into my box,” Emilia said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, placing the quizzes back into their folder before standing.

“I hope you have a nice time at the dinner and with Professor Palmer,” Emilia told him and Stephen felt desperate in a way, desperate to get down to the bottom of what had gone wrong and how he could fix it but time was not in their favor as they both needed to get back to work.

Stephen told her he’d return the next day but she wouldn’t be working. He settled onto Friday when he knew she would be working.

Again, Emilia smiled but it wasn’t that genuine smile he’d grown to enjoy but either way she bid him goodbye and turned to head back to work and he left to do the same although with a nagging feeling that wouldn’t go away.

The walk back to campus was thoughtful as Stephen tried to pinpoint the exact moment the conversation between them had gone to hell and how he could have been so foolish. It had been going well since Emilia had been open and smiling at him, paying him her full and devoted attention which was nice and suddenly like a book snapping shut; it was over and she had stepped back into her shell.

Placing the folder back into her backpack which she kept in the break room, she zipped it up with a bit more force than necessary but she needed to find a way to get rid of the stupid whirlwind of emotions that were overtaking her.

Grabbing her apron and retying it around her waist, she let out a deep breath because even if she felt frustrated she knew that at the end of the day, she was just really sad.

Ever since Professor Strange had come into the cafe and had made conversation with her, despite her better judgment, a part of her hand actually got her own hopes up about it all.

“What if” was a dangerous road to travel and Emilia had traveled it nonstop it seemed.

In an ignorant way, she had convinced herself that it all meant something. That he had been coming around because he wanted to talk to her and that he felt that little spark she felt between them but she couldn’t have been more wrong.

Of course, as an older, well respected, well educated professor he was going to be into people who were also on the same playing field. Not some graduate student who was working two jobs and spent her nights alone in her apartment.

Heading back out to the bar to relieve Maggie, Emilia thinks about how far out of her league the man is and how it’s actually a bit painful to think about again since it isn’t the first time she’s come to this realization.

New Hampshire was home to countless intelligent and beautiful women

Stephen wanted someone who was his equal, not an English master’s degree student who wore an apron to work and whose career path he evidently didn’t think much of.

Emilia’s career path was for her own sake because she loved the possibilities higher education in literature offered and she wasn’t about to start feeling remorse or as though it weren’t a good enough career path because of a ridiculous crush.

Even though she knew she was successful and was making her way in the world- it was still as disappointing to know that your feelings were not reciprocated both equally at 13 and 25.

Regardless of her emotional turmoil, however, drinks still needed to be made and caffeine was still a necessity so she got to work.

_______________________

By the time Friday rolled around and Emilia began getting ready for work she convinced herself that the way she was meticulously picking out her outfit for work was not because of any particular reason.

Okay.

So maybe the way she had pulled her hair back into a half up half down style with a clip that just so happened to perfectly match the light cardigan she was wearing which matched her shoes which had the jeans that made her ass look fantastic…

It was for her own sake, Emilia told herself because when she looked good she felt good.

It also did not hurt to look great when Professor Strange was going to come by. That was just a fun little addition to it all.

The assumption that he would come in around the time he had last time was correct and Emilia began pulling the adequate shots of espresso as soon as he began ordering, pretending to be nonchalant and feigning ignorance.

This wasn’t her strongsuit it seemed because Stephen had caught her glancing at him as soon as he stepped foot in the place but he thought it was sweet so he smiled to himself as it gave him the extra boost of confidence he needed.

Walking over to the bar, Stephen greeted her and watched as Emilia grabbed the shaker bottle.

“So if someone were to make you a coffee, what would it be?” Stephen asked.

“What?” Emilia asked in a way she found stupid because the question was clear.

“You know my coffee order,” Stephen said with a casual shrug, leaning his hip against the counter ever so slightly, “It’s only right I know yours as well,”

Emilia paused her movements as she thought about it.

The taste of coffee itself wasn’t all too appealing to her, and it had never been. A bit ironic with how she worked at a coffee shop but she did enjoy coffee drinks when they were creamy, sweet, and didn’t make her gag with the strength of the coffee.

From their own menu and, despite her support of small businesses, Starbucks- she always got a brown sugar shaken espresso with extra oat milk.

It hadn’t disappointed her yet and it was the perfect, most delicious-

“Look,” Stephen said with a nervous strain in his voice Emilia had never been privy to, watching as he shifted his weight uncomfortable, “I’m trying to ask you to dinner,”

Jesus Christ.

Who knew a person could be so dense?

“So, Emilia, will you go to dinner with me?” Stephen asked, “I’d like to talk without a counter between us or a time limit,”

The world seemingly narrows to the man standing in front of her. The professor she had encountered by just the chance circumstances life provided was all she noticed for that moment, even if in the back of her mind she knew that the cashier was watching intently and a few other lingering customers were watching because really, who didn’t love gossip? Plus Stephen had been exactly whispering.

The world is Stephen- tall, handsome, intelligent, confident Stephen who could probably have any person he laid eyes on wanted Emilia. Small, shy, thoughtful Emilia who often goes unnoticed but not by him it seemed.

Emilia opens and closes her mouth for a moment but she tells herself to get it together.

“I- yes,” Emilia finally said, “I would love to,”

The happiness that painted Stephen’s face was enough to light up a city block.

Was it weird how crazy she was about him considering she didn’t even know him? Maybe. But this wasn’t the time to dissect the inner workings of her affections.

In another world, perhaps a romantic comedy of sorts, Emilia would have left her shift right then and there to go out with Stephen. Stephen would have also abandoned his Friday lectures and office hours and they would have gone out together.

A lovely dinner would be shared with them where Emilia would open up and Stephen would also open up, breaking the ice and shaking off the seemingly permanent arrogant exterior he wore with everyone but her for the night. Maybe even forever.

But this was not that world.

“Do you live here or something? Can I have your number to contact you?” Stephen asks with the same smile.

“Yeah I live here under the counter next to the milk fridge,” Emilia responds without thinking, smiling as Stephen laughs but she’s grabbing the Sharpie from her apron and writing her number on a nearby napkin because cliches are cliches for a reason, sometimes. Practicality and all.

Emilia’s handwriting is neat, it’s cute, and it’s perfect.

Stephen’s fingers brush her own as he takes it, and they both somehow know it’s intentional so they both share an inside joke smile before Emilia readies his drink by snapping the lid on, sending him on his way with a promise to call.

The rest of the shift is spent with Emilia attempting to ignore her phone and pretending to ignore the seemingly unrelenting temptation to just sneak into the back like she knows everyone does to check her phone.

When given the opportunity to check her messages Emilia tries her best to ignore the cold disappointment when there are no missed calls or messages from a new number. While Emilia doesn't think that Stephen is the type of person to ask someone out and then ignore them, she also knows that she doesn’t really know him aside from his drink order and his profession.

Stephen could very well have plenty of phone numbers to pick and choose from as he pleases.

This thought dims her mood so she chooses to let it go in favor of wiping the counter off. Again.

Emilia couldn’t possibly know that Stephen had been staring at the napkin every opportunity he had gotten; saving the numbers on his computer, phone, and even writing it down on a sticky note he stuck into his wallet before his next lecture just in case.

The same number he had already successfully memorized.

It’s during her walk home after work when Emilia is planning out her evening’s dinner when her phone begins to vibrate in her backpack, excitement bubbling in her chest as she sees it’s from an unknown number.

“Hello?” Emilia answers, hoping she didn’t speak too quickly.

“Hi. Is this Emilia?” The familiar voice which is just slightly changed by a phone call asks, “This is Stephen. Boundary crossing professor and customer,”

“Hi Stephen,” Emilia says with a grin she can’t stamp down painting her face as she presses the crosswalk button.

“I hope this is an alright time to call, I just couldn’t wait any longer so I’m calling between lectures,”

“Oh,” Oh. “No, no that’s fine,” Emilia feels she’s capable of doing a cartwheel at that moment.

“I ended my last lecture early with the promise of it being so they could prepare for the midterm but I knew that they wanted to get of out there as much as I did so I did us both a favor,”

Emilia imagines Stephen rushing students out of his lecture hall as quickly as possible in order to call her seconds sooner.

“I’m glad you called,” Emilia confesses, briefly missing someone distracted from crashing into her.

“I am too,” There’s a pause and Emilia listens intently, “I don’t know your personal schedule but I know you don’t work tomorrow but are you free tomorrow afternoon?”

Tomorrow!! Emilia thinks. Less than a day away.

“I’m free,” Emilia has work to do for school but she knows she’d find time during finals week for Stephen.

“Perfect. There’s this restaurant, it’s a brewery as well. It’s on Wheelbridge. I’d like to take you there,”

While Emilia knows the area, not the restaurant. It’s not too close to home, but it would be okay.

“Okay. That sounds nice. What time?”

“Let’s do 2? I don’t want to interrupt you sleeping in and relaxing. Is that okay? I thought we could have lunch and then somewhere else not too far away,”

“That sounds lovely,”

“Great. Perfect. I will let you go because I’m sure you have things to do and I won’t be the reason you are distracted,”

Stephen didn’t know he was Emilia’s favorite distraction.

“Tomorrow, then?” Stephen asks, “2?” suddenly sounding hesitant, nervous almost. It didn’t suit him as he sounded unsure as if he needed to make sure it was happening and set in stone.

“2pm I’ll be there,”

“Okay. See you then. Bye, Emilia,”

“Bye-bye” Emilia says before they both hang up and she wants to body slam herself through the Earth’s crust because who says “bye-bye” unironically?

Instead of dwelling, Emilia saves his phone number carefully and there is absolutely nothing that can ruin her mood.

Not the way that the leftovers she was planning on having were spoiled, or the way she had forgotten to revise an essay, or even when she couldn’t sleep out of sheer excitement.

#Stephen strange #Doctor strange #Stephen strange fic #Doctor strange pic #doctor strange au #Stephen strange au #marvel fiction #doctor strange fan fiction #Stephen Vincent strange #doctor strange x oc #doctor strange fluff #Benedict Cumberbatch #doctor strange fix rec #Stephen strange fic rec #marvel #marvel fanfic

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huxs-waifu · 1 year

Text

10,000 Nights - Final Chapter - Greek tragedy **Smut**

Chapter Summary:

So here we are at the final chapter of this story, We have the Honeymoon enjoy the final smut , as always please drop a comment.

Thank you to everyone who has supported me and this fiction for the last 2 years! It's really been a labour of love and opened so many doors for me. Please do not threat though this is not the end of Chrissy and my strange - I've got an NSFW alphabet and a few extras coming.

AS well as a spin-off/ sequel series - the working title is Norse/Greek Tragedy. So if you want to know what happens to Chalice in the future this will be her story! with a particular Trickster god named Loki ;) along with her relationship with mum and dad but not as you expect.

Part Twelve - can be found here

A03 link - https://archiveofourown.org/works/30666221/chapters/93492631

Playlist - https://huxs-waifu.tumblr.com/post/650653939084279808/via

Masterlist - https://huxs-waifu.tumblr.com/post/670776247958257664/10000-nights-masterlist-the-cloak-seems-intent

After the wedding, we retired to a honeymoon suite that Tony had offered up. Stephen carried me over the threshold traditionally not via a portal, he decided he wanted at least some normal parts of a wedding. That was the whole point of having a second wedding.

Strange practically tumbled me onto the bed and started loosening his tie.

"Woah someone can't wait tonight, relax it's our honeymoon" sitting up and taking his hands in mine gently taking the fingers away from the loosened tie.

"I want to make another one. A baby that is not an interdimensional rift"

"You want another one already. Like literally right now. You know how much trouble chalice caused us"

"Well my little wife. I want to make lot with you. Plus it's a lot more fun making one intentionally ."

"Ok calm down Daddy," I smirked. A pang jolted through Stephen, his blue eyes dilated.

"You finally did it. You called me Daddy!"

"Oh, no little one you will be calling me Daddy from now on. No more of that old man business." Grabbing my ass pulling me into him, as I stood up from the bed. his dress trousers are straining half-mast already. "Do you understand how delicious that sounds coming out of your mouth, wife?"

"I'd been saving it up. Anyway, you ARE a daddy now old man" getting on my knees,

Poking him in the chest. Before continuing to take off the tie.

"Well if I can't continue with the old man routine. What about you calling me little one? I'm not that girl you followed into a wine closet."

"No, you're not. Yes, it does work both ways. You are a woman. A bright celestial goddess. You are all women to me. Every inch of your curves, your pinprick scars that litter your body. Your blood that runs hot and your milk that flows to feed our child. Are all women, My wife" capturing our lips together. “Now Goddess, I wish for you to get back on this bed.”

“In the dress still?” Swaying the skirts of the tulle back and forth. Watching his eyes change to that of hunger, like a snake being hypnotised by the movement. ”Be a shame to waste the lingerie underneath, i know how much you adore your Wife in it”

A low growl escapes his mouth in pleasure, before flicking his hand to the side of him the dress falling off around my ankles and sliding away much as the cape does with its scared. Bared to him the pump this time was attached to my arm hidden by the voluminous sleeves of the dress. “You never fail to surprise me my goddess with your pump-hiding skills”

“Face it it's one of the reasons you like me.”

“Oh its up there on the list with many things I love about you Chrissy. Including your underwear choices.” his hands reach out enjoying touching the golden yellow bra cup, the silk gliding over his fingertips. Not that he could feel it but silk gave his hands a nice cooling sensation. The white lace edges contrasted beautifully, and don't even get him started on the thong that was barely there.

Looking up at him I capture his lips again, his grip tightening on my breast. “It's time to get you undressed too.” whispering between kisses. I grab hold of his wrist though before he can magically remove them.” no magic!” As I discard his suit jacket, he stops groping me to shake his hands in defeat. Getting to work on the shirt buttons. Every Centimetre relieved of his porcelain skin had me giddy with joy. My hand sliding inside his shirt to feel the skin-to-skin contact, making light tracings over this well-toned lean pecs before continuing the shirt removal.

“We're going to be all night if you keep up like this.”

“Paintance Wizard, we've got the rest of our lives together.”

“Well the former supreme has waited 1000’s years , I think I owe it to him to speed this up.” flicking his trousers off to join the rest of the suit. before taking each side of my face and receiving a hungry kiss. My own hands are firmly pressed on his chest as he walks me backwards onto the bed. “Now my beautiful wife do as I say and spread those legs.”

Moving into the centre of the bed, complying with his demands. Coyly opening my legs wide to show off the barely-there underwear.The bed dipped lightly as he sits in front on his knees eys filled with lust before even touching me his hands connecting to my hips all the same. As with his best grip possible the coolness of them glade down the sides of the thong. Removing them “see you don't need magic to do everything.”

“You always say that but I do”

“No, you don't, I love your hands. I love every inch of you. Your amazing magic or not.”

“Darling, you are the most wonderful person in the world.” As strange dips capturing my lips his fingers start to weave in and out of my folds with his fingers. A moan escapes me and into his mouth, causing him to smirk. “Please allow me to give you pleasure before you give me mine. Goddess, I intend to worship all of you tonight. Kissing down my jaw, over the clavicle, across the shoulder and stopped kissing above the pump. “That's every part of you.” fingers enter deeper making a sweet scissoring motion before drawing back out.

A low husky mewl releases from me as they pull out completely. The doctor positioned himself in front letting his ridge member slap a couple of times before finding his placement inside me.The sticky sloppy draw of my pussy dragged up and down Stephens's cock. He looked upon me with a gleeful grin, eyes connecting in the darkness. Before a flash of madness passed through them his thrusts became ploughing movements making the bed squeak with every pump of hips. Making sure to bottom out every time. My body gladly takes every inch of him and more.

Growling sitting up, I hooked an arm around his neck and legs around his waist. The thrusts are deep and lounging as we grind against one another. Lost in the ecstasy of the sweaty lust filled the room. Sweat dripping down our bodies, I closed my eyes only to be met by his forehead against mine. “ Look at me Chrissy, I want you to look into my eyes as I take you over the edge.”Swallowing feeling the change in movement to one of eager pace, hitting the indie of me in that special place. His hands hooked into the hair at the back of my head. Opening my eyes to see my now husband looking so intensely at my face. “Fucking celestial.”

At those words my body broke down into its release, Stephan chasing his own in three more powerful blows. His seed becoming nestled in me, time stopped as if the stone in the eye knew we needed it.

The morning after.

Placing a hand on his chest pushing Strange back into the pillows. The White silk of the honeymoon suite is the complete difference from the sumptuous red of the sanctum four-poster bed. Tracking each mole and scar lazily before giving a soft kiss to the centre of his body.

As I draw back up. His hands grab at the ample and tender breast flesh hanging above him. Kneading the skin."I can feel it. Your heart is beating."

"Beats only for you, Stephen "

"I love you. I can't tell you enough." Moving his hand from my body clutching at my face. "I never want to be lonely again. I'm glad i found you in this universe, makes me almost feel sad for the others in theirs, that don't have you."

Bending over, the style of hair coming unravelled one side. Placing a kiss on his lips. Smooching away at my now husband. Kneed on top straddling him. "I want to tell you how much I love every day. Spend 10,000 nights with you and 10,000 more."

So we spend every night together from that moment on. A good year when by, with love and laughter. Until that one faithful day when, a spaceship crashed and Strange ran after tony.

*SNAP*

@too-short-for-my-own-good @avengershumanresources @fluffyprettykitty @d0ct0rstrangewife @type1diabetesinfandom @strangelockd

#dr stephen strange #Dr Strange #dr strange marvel #dr strange x ofc #dr strange smut #dr strange x reader #dr strange x oc #Marvel multiverse #Marvel Comics #greek mythology references #diabetic fiction #diabetic character #marvel cinematic universe #mcu fanfiction #mcu smut #marvel cinematic universe smut #strangebatch #benedict cumberbatch

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misschris1412 · 1 year

Text

Girls Powers Avengers

Ana de armas : Margaret Alvarez

Yasmine al bustami : Angela Sky

Os la spécialiste https://www.wattpad.com/475862463-imagine-marvel-one-shot-drabble-mini-story-la

eiza gonzalez : Carmen Bello

Alexis Bledel : Aurore Coulson

Le colocataire https://www.wattpad.com/story/292337203-le-colocataire

Chloé Grace Moretz : Tara Garrett

#yasmine al-bustami #sebastian stan #fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #sebastian stan crackship #marvel #chloë grace moretz #alexis bledel #eiza gonzalez #stephen strange x oc #stephen strange #doctor strange #the winter soldier #benedict cumberbatch #ana de armas

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vi-trying-to-survive · 2 years

Note

hey. idk if this is a weird request or not, but could you do something with stephen and pregnant! reader? like maybe when they find out reader is pregnant and just fluffy stuff throughout the months up until the baby is born?

Baby Fever

Stephen Strange x f!pregnant!Reader

Summary: Stephen and (Y/N) are having a baby and though its not always the easiest they've never been happier 💖💖💖

Warning: No warnings, just good pregnancy fluff 💖💖💖

A/N: Hi guys, I know I've been inactive for the longest time cause of exams but I'm finally done. It's been a while since I've written anything, so I hope you like it and pls let me know if you have any ideas of how to improve my writing or you can put in a request if you have anything you want me to write :))))) 💖💖💖

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Her fingers trembled as she held the slim, plastic stick in her hands, biting her lip so hard she almost drew blood, and yet the only thing she could fix her mind on was the blank space that would give her the result that she dreamed of or the one that she dreaded. It didn't help that her husband, who honestly meant well, kept pressing on her shoulders, a sweet but terrible attempt at a massage to relax her nerves, somehow managing to do the complete opposite. She pressed her eyes tightly together, some part of her unable to face the disappointment, that created a burning pit in the bottom of her stomach, keeping the air from entering her lungs, that made her feel like she was suffocating as her world closed in around her. Maybe if she never looked, she wouldn't have to go through the torment again, but she was quickly pulled from her thoughts at the joyful kisses from the man that stood over her. Opening her eyes, she curiously brought the test up to her test, unable to stop the warm tears that streaked down her face when she was met by two pink lines, side by side, her lips pulled into a wide grin.

She let out relieved laugh when she felt Stephen pull her to her feet, lifting her gently into the air with such excitement, as she threw her arms around him, gripping tightly, trying to eliminate the space in between their bodies. He felt like he couldn't breath when she did that, just the bare minimum amount of oxygen reaching his lungs, but in the moment he couldn't care less, he was going to be a father, instead he chose to pull her closer careful, chuckling along with her while peppering her face with kisses. She squealed, pushing his face away playfully, but he couldn't stop, the feeling of his heart overflowing with love, and for a second he stopped, staring at her in bewilderment, "I'm going to be a father". It came out more as a whisper if anything, his clear, blue eyes growing softer at the thought of the child that they would raise, a wonderful dream playing in his mind. She gently placed a hand on his cheek, causing him into to lean into her touch reflexively, humming at her soft scent of jasmine and lilies, " Yes you are, and you're going to be a great one", finding himself smiling to match hers, as he felt her nestle closer to his side.

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(Y/N) was so happy that she was pregnant, she was so grateful that she was going to be a mother to a child with the man of her dreams by her side, but no one ever said she had to like the process of how a child was born. She would've thought that a pregnant woman would require a healthy amount of sleep, but here she was retching her dinner violently into the still water that sat unmoving at the bottom of the toilet bowl, her arm resting against the cool, porcelain material, somewhat curing her of the uncomfortable, stuffy warmth that seemed to envelope her. She felt like she was 20 again, on the floor of her best friends bathroom, but it was different this time. This time she wasn't cursed with an awful hangover from a testy night out on the town, probably regretting a terrible mistake. This time she had Stephen and she was grateful for him, dutifully holding her tangled messy locks back, as he helped her off the ground, cautiously sitting her on the bathroom counter, reaching for the towel that hung haphazardly across the back of the door, placing a tender kiss on the crown of her head, before dabbing off the trail of vomit that stained her chin lightly, with the most affectionate look strewn on his face, which caused her heart to swell with love for him.

He worked quickly, and she soon found herself tucked away under the fluffy, cotton sheets, her head sinking down on the airy pillows, causing her sigh in delight. She felt her eyes flutter, threatening to close with exhaustion despite doing nothing but throw up for the past half hour, but she fought it, "Thank you", she half yawned, still gripping tightly at the man's wrist, running her fingers aimlessly back and forth across his skin. He chuckled quietly at her, "You don't have to say thank you", brushing back a strand of hair that fell loosely across her eyes, his hand trailing down the side of her face, "You're the one carrying our kid, it's the least I could do". His response tugged the corner of her lip, raising them into a smile, as she pulled his palm close to her, fondly pressing her lips against the roughened surface, silently drifting into sleep.

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"I mean do you want to know if they're a boy or a girl", he gasped in exasperation, watching the woman that sat opposite him, holding her head in her hands, digging her fingers into his scalp, impatiently frowning at him, "Because it's starting to sound like you do", he finished, crossing his arms across his chest defensively.

"No I don't-", she sighed, letting her head fall onto the cool marble of the kitchen counter, continuing to groan exasperatedly. "But the curiosity is killing me, I mean haven't you ever wanted to know something so badly but also not wanted to know it just as badly ?", she exclaimed, her arms flailing about in the air in distress, as though it further extenuates her point.

He rolled his eyes, lovingly at her, responding blatantly, "No-", before turning back to face the pile of dripping dishes that stood by the sink, grabbing a greying rag that hung weakly from a hook, beginning to rub away the dripping water from each one.

"That's a lie", she persisted, giving him a stern look, now pushing herself off the chair and onto the island counter, so she could look the man eye to eye as she stared him down. She often felt that making herself tall enough to meet his gaze in a disagreement made her more intimidating, but when she swung her feet back and forth from where they hung off the edge, Stephen had to do everything in his power to contain his laughter.

He pressed his lips tightly together in an attempt to compose himself, "Whatever you say darling", forcing himself to finish the task at hand. He could already imagine the frustrated look on the woman's face, eyebrows furrowed together, cheeks practically turning a bright, burning red from the sheer amount of stress that she had built out of nothing, with her arms crossed in the most infuriated looking manner as she could manage.

She huffed, boring her eyes into his back, as he continued to wipe down the clean dishes, her lips curving into a pout.

He tried his best to ignore her antics, but like always he failed, turning around to position himself between her legs, pulling her frame into his, so that she was practically enveloped in him, mimicking her expression comically, knowing his plan had worked when she squeezed her mouth shut to stop her erupting giggles. When she didn't burst into a fit of laughter, he figured that he had to try something else, wiggling his fingers menacingly, before reaching for her sides, tickling, causing her to break character. Shaking with laughter, she struggled to get her words out, "Stop- I'm- I'm supposed to be mad at you".

He smirked softly, bringing his hands to rest at her waist, cocking his head to look at her, "Well you could never stay mad at me anyway, now is definitely not the time to start", leaning in to connect their lips for a loving kiss.

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"Stephen!!". (Y/N) yelled, from where she lay, nestled amongst the fluffy throw pillows that were once meticulously arranged across their bed, her hand resting on the bump that had grown in the past 7 months, an almost protective reflex, "Can you get me my juice, I think I left it in the kitchen".

"I think you enjoy bossing me around a little too much, darling", Stephen groaned playfully, giving her a teasing look with his lips pursed as he handed her the cold glass, pressing his lips against her forehead and then her belly, while she rolled her eyes affectionately at him.

"Well you try carrying this baby around", she lamented, smacking him along the arm jokingly, giggling softly at his feigned defeat, "Once I sit down there is no getting up until at least 2 hours" .

"Alright, alright-", he sighed, shaking his head a little, turning to look at her, feeling her gaze fixated on him, almost as though she was trying to put him some sort of trance, but luckily for Stephen she didn't know that kind of magic, but that never stopped her from getting her way with him. After a few minutes he gave in to her longing stare, unable to resist the bright, hopeful look behind her eyes, "Why are you looking at me like that ?", he wondered out-loud, a little curious.

She grinned widely, rubbing her hands together in what she thought was menacingly, "Can you give me a back-rub ?", already knowing that he could- would never say no. It's not like she was trying to torture her husband, in fact she wished he didn't have to do all this for her, but at this point her belly was weighing her down and making her already bad posture worse, which did nothing for her lower back. The pain only seemed to spread overtime, growing sharper and more unbearable, all she could do was tell herself that the result of this pain would be so worth it. That and ask her husband for back massages, because in the few minutes that he pressed his hands skilfully along her back she felt the soreness subside and just for a short time she felt air-like, it was practically euphoric.

"You are so lucky I love you", he forced his lips together, fighting but eventually failing to keep the growing smile from spreading across his features, swiftly but gently positioning himself behind her, careful not to hurt her in any way, to which she settled comfortably in between his legs, enjoying the comforting warmth that radiated from his skin to hers, giving her an ease unmatched by any other. Despite all the extra tasks that came with a pregnant wife, Stephen felt as though it only made him love her more, how she was always so strong and capable despite carrying another person in her, carrying the weight of not one but two people, going through changes that he may never understand, fears that he may never understand and yet she still radiated such a calming energy to everyone.

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"Oh my gosh!", (Y/N) exclaimed, her pain-laced shouts echoing through the aged and empty hallways of the sanctum, as she leaned weakly along the bed frame, impatiently waiting on her husband, "Stephen I am literally in so much pain- If you do not portal us to the hospital right now-". She sounded cranky, but anyone would be if they were overcome with the worst stomach cramps that they have ever experienced in their lives, all while a baby is trying to leave their body. She thought, more like she hoped that she would be one of these people that had zero pain, but it seemed she was the complete opposite.

"Hold on- hold on-, Im just getting your night bag", the sight of him brought some semblance of hope to her, as he rushed around with a bag stuffing clothes and towels into it, occasionally turning to give her a sympathetic look, a look that did nothing to help her, which only infuriated her more.

"I don't care about the night bag right now-", she whined, running her hands over her face in frustration, the beads of sweat spreading all over her face from the hot flashes she was feeling, making the whole space feel even more stuffy and uncomfortable. She just wished that the baby had picked a more reasonable time to come and no 3 a.m., but then again this was the child of Stephen Strange, so it was no surprise that it chose the most dramatic time to be born. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, reaching out with one hand to pinch her thigh sharply, thinking that maybe it would distract her from the piercing pain that was growing from her lower abdomen, but it only seemed to make everything worse, causing her to sigh in exasperation.

"But you will", his words tore her from the bubble she had created, and she found him standing in front of her, the bag though zipped up, looked like it was ready to burst apart, a soft smile painted on his face, in anticipation of this baby they had been waiting months for.

"But I care about this child that is trying to leave my womb", she frowned, her arms waving about in the air so dramatically, she was close to slapping the man. He was quick to work, slipping his sling ring onto his fingers, the blazing orange ring forming before them, revealing a more brightly lit, sterile looking waiting room, a few people peering through to them from the other side, but she didn't care anymore, she just needed the pain to stop and for this child to be out of her womb and in her arms. "Okay, just a little longer love, you're at the end of it already", his words came out quietly, close to a whisper as he laced their fingers together, tenderly helping her through the portal.

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"Who would've thought that something so amazing would be produced from something so awful", (Y/N)'s words broke the silence that had settled amongst the pair as they watched the bundled up child in her arms, occasionally shifting her arms up to stretch before curling back up in her arms. She found it hard to tear her eyes from her but eventually she did, her gaze easily drifting to watch her husband, who was leaning down to be as close as he possibly could to them, their pinky fingers just barely laced together but it still brought a calming sense to her.

He reached out a finger in front of the baby, which she was quick to take into her small ones, and (Y/N) could have sworn she had never seen Stephen Strange as speechless or bewildered in her life and that was pretty major considering the fact that they were both wizards who have fought alongside the avengers."But look at her tiny hands and feet", he whispered out, not wanting to startle the new-born, not wanting to stop looking at her, almost as though it would all disappear he did.

"I know she's so beautiful", she sighed in satisfaction, as she admired her husband, reaching a free hand out to tangle her fingers in his hair, causing him to hum in delight as she dug deeper and tugged on the locks, " I can't believe that we made a tiny human", leaning her head down slightly to place chaste kiss on the crown of her head.

Watching his wife yawn widely, he felt concern for her, only just nothing the dark circles that had formed under her eyes, that were almost fluttering shut , suggesting, "Why don't you rest darling, I can watch her while you do".

"That would be nice", she thought out loud, as she glanced down at the little baby girl in her arms, "I love her so much, but I have never been so tired in my entire life", passing over the fluffy bundle of pink blankets over to her husband. He adjusted to holding her in his arms, before leaning towards (Y/N), giving her a loving kiss on the cheek, to which she practically purred with in delight in her exhaustive state. Stephen chuckled softly trying not to startle the baby in his arms, as he leaned back in his seat, pulling himself closer to her, so amazed at his child and his wife for producing something so wonderful.

She shuffled around on the stiff hospital mattress for a few seconds before finding the perfect spot, sighing happily, her head positioned to look at the man she loved, whispering discreetly into their child's ear, not that she would even understand whatever he said, but it still made her heart swell with love and joy for her family.

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