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ironstrange1991 · 3 months

Text

His Medicine

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Stephen has a nightmare and when he wakes up he seeks comfort in your arms.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: SMUT: Possessive sex, oral sex with male and female receiving, deep throat, fingering, unprotected p n v sex, hair pulling, creampie, cum eating, slight male domination. A bit of angst if you dig too much.

A/N: I was missing writing the good and classic smut with og Stephen so here it is. Hope you guys enjoy it and have a good reading. - Any typos or grammar mistakes you see in this, pretend you didn't ;)

You woke up to the movement of Stephen tossing and turning next to you in bed. Your first impression was that he was irritated at not being able to sleep, after all you knew that Stephen had been struggling with insomnia since the accident. Before, he used to sleep really well, according to him.

You closed your eyes again to try to go back to sleep, but he continued tossing and turning in bed so, sighing, you turned on the lamp to finally look at him. It was then that you noticed that he was sleeping, but his body was sweaty under the blanket and he seemed to be struggling against something invisible. You had never seen Stephen have nightmares like that and for a second you wondered if you should wake him up, but before you could make the decision he sat up abruptly on the bed gasping for air and running his hands over his face.

"Stephen..." You sat next to him, touching his shoulder lightly so as not to scare him.

He held your hand tightly and sighed heavily.

"Are you okay? You were having a nightmare."

He nodded. "I haven't had one of these in a long time." He confessed, his voice shaking a bit. "Christ, it was like being there again."

You put your arm around his shoulders and to your surprise, he laid his head on your shoulder seeking comfort. Stephen was extremely affectionate with you, but it was always the other way around, it was always you looking for comfort in him. The change was welcome, but not in that circumstance.

Automatically your hand searched for his hair and you started stroking it.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

His arms wrapped around your waist and he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

"The accident. It's always the accident. I thought I had left it behind me, but it still haunts me in my sleep."

You held him in your arms as if that way you could protect him from all the evil that had affected him or that could still affect him. You just wanted to keep him safe there within your reach.

"It was an extremely traumatic experience and you dealt with it alone. Maybe you should consider seeking help..."

He shook his head "I don't need therapy. I already have everything I need."

He said lifting his head and searching for your lips.

You kissed him softly, but disagreed, "I can't save you from the ghosts of your past, Stephen, as much as I want to help you, I don't know how."

He sighed, running a hand over his face again. "They're just dreams. What harm can they do?"

You shook your head. You had been together for almost two years and you were still surprised by how headstrong and stubborn Stephen was. "Disrupting what little decent sleep you have is already something to worry about." You pointed out. "You've barely been sleeping lately, always worried about everyone except yourself. Someone needs to take care of you while you're taking care of everyone else, don't you think? Being ill you don't help anyone, sweetheart."

Stephen sighed and you took that as a sign that he agreed with you, at least a little.

"You're stealing my pet name." He said, changing the subject in a not-so-subtle way. "I gave it to you."

You smirked running your fingers through his hair absentmindedly. "You gave it to me and I can use it however I want. It's extremely cute if you ask me and it suits you. Especially when you're clinging to me like a koala because you had a bad dream."

Stephen hummed knowing full well that you were teasing him but he didn't give in, he continued cuddling with you, it was as if he couldn't bear the thought of moving away from you for even a second.

"Promise me you'll see a doctor." You pressed and he groaned knowing full well that you wouldn't give up on the subject so easily. "Stephen..."

"I know every neurologist and psychiatrist in New York, I can't see any of them."

"Well then go to Europe, use your amazing ability to open portals for something that benefits you for a change."

He pulled away enough to look at you. "I love you." He muttered.

You cupped his cheek "I love you too, Stephen, but sometimes you're as stubborn as a mule and it makes me really angry."

He chuckled "I'm sorry."

He caressed your face and placed his trembling hand on the back of your neck and pulled you in for a hard kiss. The intensity surprised you, but you let yourself be pushed gently against the mattress as Stephen positioned himself on top of you, his knees making room for him to settle between your legs.

When your head hit the pillow, he took your lips again while with one hand he held yours on the side of your head and the other he slowly moved between your legs. You moaned involuntarily when his fingers touched over your pajama shorts, tracing circles there, teasing you as he grinded himself into your thigh.

"You're the only one who can give me what I need to make me feel better and you know it." He confessed in your ear and then licked your ear making your body shiver. "I love you so much, sweetheart, you are my medicine."

You couldn't help but giggle, but then a loud moan escaped your lips as his fingers pulled your shorts to the side and began to play with your folds.

"We can't fix everything with sex." You tried to rationalize with him, but you could feel reason quickly giving way to desire in your brain.

"No, but I'm not talking about sex, I'm talking about the way you make me feel when I'm in your arms, when you stroke my hair or massage my hands. I'm talking about love. Your love is my medicine and it’s all I need."

You felt your heart flutter in your chest hearing those words, but at the same time your hips started to move against his hand as if it had a life of its own. It was very difficult for you to separate sex from love with Stephen. Before him the line was thick and visible, but with him it simply disappeared. The two things seemed to complement each other so well.

"Stephen...make love to me." You asked, giving in to your desire and abandoning reason once and for all.

He bit your lower lip lightly before taking your mouth in another hungry kiss. "I thought sex didn't solve things..." He teased you with a smirk while grinding his erection into you.

"You just said it's not about sex..." You tried to say, but shook your head, changing your mind when he stuck two fingers inside you. "Fuck...need you."

Stephen buried his face in your neck, stifling his giggle, but his fingers curled inside you with precision to reach your g spot and he moved them quickly. You held his face in your hands making him look at you. "I love you... oh yes... I love your fingers even more."

He kissed you again giggling and knelt between your legs.

"I think there's something you love even more." He teased, "But first..." He snapped his fingers and your pajamas disappeared with a glimpse of orange light. "Open wide for me..." He licked his lips dramatically which made you laugh softly. You loved that about Stephen. You loved how he could make you feel so good and at ease with him. Even though you had been together for so long, it never stopped enchanting you.

"Or maybe a combination of the two." He announced before diving between your legs and entering you again with his fingers. Your hand grabbed the pillow and the other grabbed his hair and you allowed yourself a loud moan, not giving a damn if Wong would hear you or not. In fact, it had been a long time since you stopped caring about Wong's presence at the Sanctum and perhaps because of that he almost never spent the night there.

Stephen hummed contently, delighting between your folds, taking turns licking them with the tip of his tongue and sucking your clit while his fingers moved nimbly to stimulate your g spot.

He was so good, perfect, surgical when it came to giving you pleasure and as much as you knew that that night he was using sex to escape the current problem, you couldn't resist, you always fell into the same trap.

But it wasn't just to distract you from the subject that he used sex, but also to distract himself from all the problems and fears that afflicted him. He wasn't kidding when he said you were his medicine, and you might even feel flattered by that if it weren't worrying. The man never allowed himself to feel. Always trying to be in control of everything, especially his own emotions and there was nothing Stephen controlled better than sex. He had simply mastered that art so well that he was able to make you forget your own name with just a touch of his fingers.

"Steph... gonna make me cum..." You murmured, giving in to the delicious pleasure between your legs, but keeping your eyes wide open to look at him and see him eating you. There was nothing more mesmerizing than Stephen going down on you because you knew he took pleasure in it and he was so lost in his need for you that he started rubbing his erection on the mattress while eating you and that vision, Stephen so lost in his pleasure , that's what made you finally get there, moaning his name loudly and creaming his fingers.

He emerged from between your legs with a proud smile on his lips and you ran your hands over his face to clean him of all his fluids and pulled him to your lips, delighting in the taste of your cunt in his tongue.

"You're not going to be able to change my mind about you needing to see a therapist. Not even after such a wonderful oral." You warned and he smirked.

"I guess we can talk about this later." He said, running his lips on your neck and placing little kisses on your skin and finally nibbling on your earlobe.

"Later when?" You rasped.

He grabbed one of your hands and brought it to his cock, slipping it inside his pants. "After you take care of this."

You grabbed his cock and started pumping him up and down. "But this is a full time occupation. It really seems like you're always like this." You said pulling him to your lips.

He groaned when you tightened your grip on his cock. “Is this a complaint?”

"Never." You said gently pushing him to the side and straddling him. He let himself be moved easily and you ran your lips down his neck, making a point of leaving a clearly visible hickey just below his chin, your nails went down his chest, scratching him lightly as you took one nipple and then the other in your mouth, circling your tongue on the sensitive skin and feeling him pulse beneath you.

"Sweetheart... please..." His voice was so beautiful when he begged.

"Please what?" You teased, running your lips down his belly, giving small bites.

"Fuck me... with your mouth. Please."

You lifted your head to look at him and couldn't keep the cocky smile from your lips. Your hands grabbed both sides of his sweatpants.

"Since you're asking so nicely."

He lifted his hips, letting you take off his pants and you were treated to his beautiful, hard cock. It's no exaggeration to say that your mouth always watered at that sight.

You held him upright by the base and licked him from the base to the tip, finishing with a suck on the tip that made him see stars. His legs shook and he moaned outrageously loud.

"Oh yes... please take it in your mouth sweetheart, give this delicious mouth to me."

You smiled mischievously, taking your hands up to your hair to tie it into a bun tied with your own hair and Stephen grabbed his cock by the base, gesturing with the other hand for you to take it. You let him lead, opening your mouth for him to put his dick in and letting him thrust all the way in.

"Fuck yeah!" He praised taking his cock completely out of your mouth, saliva dripping down your chin. You took the opportunity to swallow some. "Open for me really big" He ordered and you did as he asked letting him go deep again and gagging around him which made him moan even louder. He loved that.

Stephen loved seeing you gagging on him because it inflated his ego, he knew very well that he had a huge cock, but he liked seeing you suffering to take it all in, it made him hard as a rock and when you cried, when he saw tears streaming down your face he loved it even more. You were sure he could cum from just that.

"Gonna let you take me however you want now." He said taking his hand away which was quickly replaced by yours. "Just keep making me feel good" He asked and you took the lead pumping his cock and sucking him in perfect synchronization. The wet noise his dick made moving in and out of your mouth filled the room.

"So good... fuck sweetheart it feels so good."

He grabbed your hair and without holding back he began to push your head so that you took him entirely. Stephen never gave up control completely and he was obsessed with deep throat, he was only satisfied when your nose was against his pelvis and his cock was deep you’re your throat.

"Taking me so good. Always taking me so good, sweet..." He moaned loudly and his cock pulsed hard in your throat making you gag.

"Wanna cum in your throat, please let me cum in your throat..."

You hummed positively and relaxing your head and throat, breathing through your nose and letting go of the control completely, letting him use your head to get off.

He thrusted up a few more times and then held you tight against him and began to cum down your throat. "Oh yeah... fucking take it, love. Oh yeah... fuck... take all of it... take all of my cum."

When he finally let go of your head and you took him out of your mouth you were gasping for air. Your face was soaked with tears and your chin was dripping with saliva, some still clinging to a thread connecting your mouth and the head of his cock that was soft, but not completely flaccid.

"You always take me so good. Always accepting what I give you. Such a sweetheart indeed." He patronized.

You wiped the spit off your chin with your hand and moved to straddle him.

"Yeah? Now you're gonna fuck me with the same harshness that you fucked my mouth and you are going to make me cum again. Hard."

"And isn't it always hard when I make you cum? Always writhing and moaning my name, thanking the gods that is me fucking you so good." He teased grabbing his cock and giving a couple of jerks before entering you.

You moaned loudly, letting yourself sink into his cock and started riding him fast and hard, placing your hands on his chest for balance.

"Yes... oh yes I love to have you inside me. Feels so big... you always fuck me so good... such a good lover, Steph..."

You leaned your head back and placed both hands on his thighs, moving your legs forward and allowing the new position to give him a better view of where you joined.

Stephen placed a hand on your clit, circling it and stimulating it deliciously, increasing your pleasure, which made you moan so loud that anyone in that house could hear it.

"Just like that, sweetheart. Give it to me."

You kept moving fast on top of him, letting your body move instinctively in search of your release, but Stephen had other plans. Quickly, he moved you under him, getting lost between your legs again, sucking your clit and licking your dripping folds before patting your leg and ordering, "Turn around and lift that ass for me."

You did as he ordered, but not satisfied he slapped your ass cheek and ordered again. "Higher." He gave another slap and when he was satisfied with your position he entered you again, fucking you with surprising ferocity. That was one of the things you loved about Stephen, you never knew what sex with him would be like. Sometimes it was soft and other times it was like that. Hard and delicious.

Stephen was so big that his body covered your entire body, his weight made it impossible for you to move and when he fucked you like that you were completely at his mercy and that was fucking hot. You loved being dominated by him, you loved knowing that your man had complete control over you.

"Fuck yes Stephen... take me, use me, I'm yours. Fuck me harder. Show me I am yours and no one else's. Prove to me that you own me… my owner."

Stephen groaned at your words, grabbing the headboard and increasing the strength of his thrusts as the bed creaked beneath you.

"Gonna make me cum, Stephen, uh? Want me to cum? Tell me, wanna hear you saying it."

He grabbed your hair with one hand and started using it as a rein, pulling you against his thrusts, which became increasingly irregular and strong.

"Gonna cum for me, sweetheart. Wanna see you fucking cum in my cock, come on, give it to me, cream my dick."

You moaned loudly feeling the knot threatening to break in your stomach.

"Yes Stephen...please."

"Come on, love. Let go for me. Cum... Cum on my dick."

And so you did. You came hard feeling your whole body shaking with the force of your release and your legs gave way making you fall face first into the pillows.

"There you go. Such a sweetheart doing as you're told." He groaned the words as he continued thrusting.

"Now you're going to let me use this pussy to get off. What do you think, uh? Letting me using you like this. I know you love it."

You groaned positively, but your groans were muffled by the pillow.

"What is that, uh? Can't hear you, love."

"Use me..." You tried to say, but your voice came out hoarse, but it was enough for him to hear.

He kept thrusting hard into you searching his own high.

"Want me to use you, sweetheart? That's what I am doing and you feel so good. So fucking amazing. Pussy feels so warm and wet and delicious, gonna cum so fucking hard inside you, fill you with my milk, it’s that what do you want?"

"Y-yes, please." You begged and he moaned loudly, placing his hand on the headboard to increase the strength of his thrusts.

"Yeah? Want my milk inside this warm little hole? Then tell me, ask for it."

"Please Stephen, cum in me, cum inside me, want your cum so badly, please."

Stephen groaned loudly and gave two more hard thrusts and then began to cum. He kept thrusting, pushing his cum inside you until he was finished.

"Oh fuck, fucking take it." He groaned in your ear and finally rolled onto his side, his breathing ragged and rapid.

You buried your face in the pillow trying to compose yourself, but a fit of laughter invaded you.

Stephen wrapped his arms around you and began tickling your hips giggling with you.

"Okay, okay, please... I can't..." You begged, gasping for air from laughing so hard. He let go of you and you rolled to the side finally looking at him. The worry, the fear that you saw on his face had disappeared and in its place was the most beautiful smile in the world.

"You’re feeling better." It wasn't a question, but an observation.

He nodded confidently "I told you. You're like medicine to me."

You smiled, dragging yourself closer to him and he wrapped you in his arms letting you lay your head on his shoulder. "You get different sometimes when you're horny."

He let out a small laugh.

"I'm serious. You get a bit rough. I like it."

He cupped your cheek making you look at him and kissed you softly. "It must be because I love you so much. You do these things to me."

You smiled feeling your heart flutter in your chest again. "I love you too, more than anything."

"More than chocolate?" He joked and you grimaced.

"Not that much."

He giggled, squeezing you against his chest and the two of you were silent for a minute. It was you who broke the silence first, determined to return to the subject he was avoiding.

"Promise me you'll seek professional help to deal with these nightmares." You insisted.

He sighed heavily. "You know what they say about therapy. You start it for a reason and the next thing you know you're digging up all the dead bodies on your floor."

You knew exactly what he was talking about and what he was afraid of, part of you always knew it was much more than the accident. You just didn't know how to broach the subject with him. It was something so deeply hidden within him that he didn't even want to talk about it, but you knew this was the moment.

"I know you're afraid to deal with your feelings about your sister, Stephen, but these nightmares are your unconscious telling you that you need closure."

"I'm not afraid..." He said, staring at the ceiling. "I just don't think it's beneficial to go over things that happened so many years ago. I'd rather forget."

You rolled your lips. "But you can't forget, that's the truth. No matter how hard you try, it's all in there and you're just trying to distract yourself from the pain. It was like that with medicine and then at Kamar Taj and now with me..."

"Is not the same thing." He interrupted you. "Medicine was a way to prove to myself that I could be more. Kamar Taj was my salvation when I had lost all hope. You... you are the love of my life. I'm not with you to get distract from my problems, I'm with you because you gave meaning to my life, you made me happy."

You nodded, stroking his chest absently.

"But I'll do it if it's what you want."

"It's not for me that you have to do this, but for you, Stephen. You need to think about yourself sometimes."

He chuckled dryly "I've been called a narcissist, you know? Arrogant. Prepotent. It was when I stopped thinking about myself that I became a better person, they say."

"Fuck them. This is not true." You cupped his face making him look at you. "You've always been a good person, you've always done good even when you did it for selfish reasons. Now I'm asking you to dedicate some of your time to yourself. Please."

He smiles reassuringly at you. "Okay. Consider it done."

You allowed yourself a relieved sigh.

"I liked the 'you're my owner' thing. A little possessive, but I liked it." He teased, changing the subject again and again without any subtlety.

You smirked "We talk and do unimaginable things when we're horny."

"Yeah? I like making you horny, I love seeing how you transform at my touch. It's fascinating to me and I never get tired of it."

You pulled him to your lips and kissed him lingerly, pulling a hum from his throat.

"No man has ever made me feel the way you do. I love everything about you, Stephen."

He rested his forehead on yours and smiled proudly.

"And I love everything about you, my sweet… sweet... sweet... sweetheart." He said separating the words with kisses.

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing ;)

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vickiee-mcmuffin · 8 months

Text

A helping touch

Word count: 3k

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Female Reader

Trope: Explicit Smut, Age gap (18+ Warning, Minors DNI)

A/N: I hope you like this little idea that came to mind. Thank you for helping me with ideas @strangelockd and gif credit goes to @thelostsmiles

Summary: You are intrigued by the new arrival at Kamar Taj. He has a scruffy appearance, but you offer to help him out when you find out why.

You were one of the youngest people at Kamar Taj since you were in your early twenties, but you had quickly adapted to the environment. You had officially been enrolled there for just over two months. It all started when you lost your job. You didn’t have a single person to help you, so you had gone to Kamar Taj since there was nowhere else for you to go. All you had wanted was a little bit of help, but you ended up staying at Kamar Taj, learning the mystic arts.

Your time at Kamar Taj had pretty much flown by. You weren’t one to start drama or crave attention. You just liked to keep to yourself, getting all your training done. But that quickly changed when you had a new arrival at Kamar Taj. His name was Stephen Strange.

He was rather scruffy when you first saw him with his unkempt hair, but you still couldn’t help it when you stared at him. For a moment you had wondered if he was homeless and that he had visited Kamar Taj for a helping hand – just like you had done earlier. But it didn’t take you long to figure out that the story was completely different. You found out more about him after you introduced yourself to him one day, asking him why he was at Kamar Taj.

Stephen was nice to you. He had confessed to you that he had lost his job and his home after getting into a terrible car accident that damaged his hands. The accident was so bad that they had to put eleven stainless steel pins in his hands – not to mention all the nerve damage he had.

You had been beyond surprised when he told you that. That was news to you since he usually kept his hands covered up with a white cloth. You could only just barely see the faintest of scars on the tips of his fingers. You had also discovered that the accident was why Stephen looked all scruffy. Thanks to his hands being all damaged and hurt, he couldn’t really shave his beard or cut his hair since his hands shook so much.

The story shocked you. But part of you was glad that he felt comfortable sharing his past with you…

******

It was later that day that you decided to help Stephen out. He looked like he needed it and you just felt so bad for him. You were also certain that you had a little crush on him already.

Leaving your room that evening in nothing but your pyjamas, you moved to Stephen’s own room, making sure to walk as quietly as possible. You didn’t want to wake the masters up.

You knocked on the door, waiting a few seconds before you pushed it open. You found yourself blushing wildly when you saw Stephen standing before his mirror. All he had on were his shorts. He was doing his best to shave his beard.

“Sorry,” you said quickly when Stephen turned to look at you. “I’ll just go.”

“No,” Stephen said softly. “It’s okay. Come in.”

“Hi,” you said, voice all timid.

“Hey. What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to come and help you out with your hair and your beard. I actually used to be a hairdresser before coming to Kamar Taj.”

Stephen smiled at you. “I’d like that very much, actually. If you’re sure you wanna do it, that is.”

“I am.” You shut the door behind you, moving closer to Stephen. Your eyes lowered and they landed on his hands, gasping when you saw how scarred they truly were. But it didn’t scare you. No. You just thought his hands looked so unique. “Do you have a chair so that you can sit down?”

Stephen nodded, grabbing a chair that had been sitting in front of his desk. He got it settled in front of the mirror, taking a seat.

You grabbed a pair of scissors that had been sitting on a small shelf by the mirror, but before you got to work, you wanted to know if Stephen was okay with what you were about to do.

“Do you trust me?” you asked softly.

Stephen nodded. “I do.”

Grabbing the towel that had been hanging on one of Stephen’s shoulders, you wrapped it around him. Your fingers pulled at his hair, running your digits through his locks before you began to cut the length off. Thick strands hit the floor as you cut here and there, doing your best to keep everything even. It didn’t take you long to get his hair down to a length you thought he’d be happy with. Exchanging the scissors for a brush, you carefully ran the brush through his hair, not stopping until the grey streaks in his hair were carefully tucked behind his ears. You swept back most of his hair so that it was to one side, finishing off the look so that it curled a little at the top, just above his forehead.

“Do you like it?” you asked nervously.

You watched him send you a smile, his eyes on your reflection in the mirror. “I love it.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “Do you still want me to do your beard?”

“Yes, please.”

“Hm, is there another chair I can sit in to do it? Might make it a bit easier.”

“Oh, no, sorry. There’s just this one chair.”

“Oh.”

Stephen said nothing for a long while. For a second you wondered if he had regretted choosing you to do his hair. But then he spoke up.

“You can sit on my lap,” Stephen offered. “If that’ll work.”

You felt your cheeks go red at the suggestion. But it did sound enticing. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. Only if you want to...”

“I don’t mind.” With that, you grabbed the electric razor from the dressing table – the one Stephen had been trying to use earlier. Then you moved in front of him, parting your legs and getting on his lap so that you could straddle him. After getting settled in Stephen’s lap, you looked down at him. “How do you want me to shave your beard? Do you want to be clean-shaven? Or something else?”

Stephen smiled at you. “I was thinking maybe a goatee would suit me.”

You smiled back at him, giving him a nod. Then you turned the razor on, the sound of the buzzing hitting your ears. Tilting your head, you began to get to work on his beard. There was a lot to get rid of. You moved the razor carefully along his skin, keeping Stephen’s vision in mind. You couldn’t help but smile when you saw Stephen close his eyes as you shaved off his beard.

To get a better angle, you shifted slightly. But that meant you were rocking your hips against him softly, and you suddenly felt Stephen’s hands grab your hips tight as he gasped.

But you kept moving, not stopping until the only facial hair Stephen had was his goatee. Turning off the razor, you moved to the side slightly so that Stephen could see his reflection properly.

“Well, what do you think?” you asked.

Stephen reached up, rubbing his fingers against his chin. “You did a really good job.”

“Thank you.” Leaning over, you sat the razor down, still sitting there in Stephen’s lap. You looked down at Stephen, taking in his face. You couldn’t believe how different he looked. He had gone from scruffy to… handsome. Really handsome. You’re gorgeous, you thought the words in your head.

“You are too, sweetheart,” Stephen mumbled.

Your eyes widened. You didn’t realise you had said it out loud. “Wait… Did I say that out loud?”

Stephen chuckled. “You did.”

But then you realised what Stephen had said. He had said that you were gorgeous. “Did you mean what you said? When… When you said that I was gorgeous?”

“I did mean it.”

It was quiet for a long moment – until Stephen slowly closed the gap to kiss you. Your cheeks felt hot as you felt his lips on yours, not quite sure how to react at first. All you could feel was shock. Finally, you were just about to kiss him back, and then you felt Stephen pull away.

“I’m sorry,” Stephen said, eyebrows furrowed. “I’m—"

But you cut him off and gave him a kiss right back. You moaned softly, feeling Stephen’s tongue push into your mouth, his big hands on your hips. You began to move your hips against him, forcing a groan from Stephen’s lips. You kissed long and hard, only for you to gasp when you felt Stephen’s hard length right up against you.

“I’m sorry,” Stephen mumbled when you noticed.

But he had nothing to be sorry for. You went back to kissing him, grinding your hips against him again. You were getting wet, your need for Stephen growing by the second.

“I want you to fuck me so bad,” you whispered into Stephen’s ear.

Stephen shifted so that he could look at you properly. “Are you sure? You know I’m older than you.”

“I’m definitely sure. Plus… I’ve always liked older men, anyway,” you said, voice light and teasing. You looked at Stephen carefully, seeing him blush at your words. So adorable, you thought.

“Fair enough,” he told you with a small laugh.

Soon his lips were back on you, and you hurriedly kissed him back. Your hands moved down to his shorts and Stephen sat up a little so that you could pull them down just enough for his cock to spring free. You couldn’t help but gasp when you got a look at him.

“Do you like what you see?” he wondered, a smirk on his face.

All you did was kiss him in response, and he kissed you right back. But you had to get up. Just for a second. Only so that you could pull down your pyjama shorts, letting them hit the floor. It didn’t take you long to get back on Stephen’s lap, kissing him again. The kiss lasted a good few minutes before Stephen pulled away from you.

“You gotta be quiet,” he instructed you.

You nodded. “I will be.”

Stephen nodded and you put your hands on his shoulders, lifting yourself up just that little bit so that the head of his cock could line up with your entrance. Then you slowly moved down onto him, the both of you moaning at the same time as you took him inside of you. You both moaned together and when you had every inch of him inside of you, you pressed your face into his neck. Slowly, you ground your hips against his, with Stephen’s big hands holding you tight.

You slowly rode Stephen, doing your best to stay quiet. Stephen was being quiet too as you lifted yourself up and then you brought yourself back down. You both moved together in unison, and you just loved the feeling of Stephen’s thick cock stretching you out.

But you couldn’t help but moan when you felt the tip of Stephen’s cock hit that sensitive spot deep inside of you. The sound was long and loud, your lips parted as you just let the noise out.

“Shh,” Stephen said.

You sent him a quick nod. You did your best to stay quiet, but it was just so hard.

“You feel so good,” Stephen said with a groan, his words low. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

You kept moving along his cock. Up and down, up and down. Stephen’s thick cock felt like heaven buried deep inside of you. The tip kept hitting that sweet spot, your eyes half opened as you rode his cock.

“Look at you,” Stephen said with gritted teeth. “You look so beautiful taking my cock. Mm, you look so pretty for me. All mine…”

“Oh, Stephen,” you let out, moving along Stephen’s cock faster. You needed to pick up the pace, letting his cock fill you up again and again. You could feel him throbbing inside of you and that just made it feel all the more better.

“I love how you say my name,” he grunted. “You sound so gorgeous saying my name like that. And fuck, you take my cock so well. So, so good. You feel perfect. I can’t get enough of this pussy.”

His words spurred you on and you found yourself just riding his cock faster, letting him stretch you out and fill you up. Squeezing his shoulders tight, you bounced on his cock wildly, your hands moving to his back as you scratched at him. Pure pleasure was taking over your body as you moved up and down, up and down. Even your toes started to curl as your pussy grew wetter, coating Stephen’s cock in your sweet juices. Stephen kept groaning underneath you as you rode him, clearly loving how you were working your pussy along his cock.

“Stephen, please,” you whined out.

“I know, sweetheart. I know it feels good. This little pussy feels so good wrapped around me,” he grunted. “Feels like it was made for me. I just wanna make you feel good. And I’m gonna make you feel even better now.”

Stephen suddenly reached down and grabbed your ass. Holding you tight, he began to pound into you from underneath. You cried out, the noise shrill and loud as he gave you every inch of his cock. You could feel his heavy balls slapping against you as he made you his.

“Stephen!” you cried out. “Mm, Stephen! Yes, yes, yes!”

“That’s it, gorgeous. Say my name. Scream it out. Look at your face. Look at how pretty you look taking my cock. My sweet, pretty girl.”

“Mm, Stephen, yes!”

Snapping your eyes open, you pressed your forehead to Stephen’s, staring right into his dark eyes as he fucked you. Your lips were pouted, mouth wide open as Stephen took you. He kept fucking you, kept giving you every single inch of his cock. Your pussy felt so wet as he slid in and out of you.

Stephen gave you a wink suddenly, and that was when he seemed to use every last bit of energy he had to take you. You gasped, feeling him thrust in and out of you wildly, his thick cock buried deep inside of you. It was the best thing you had ever felt. Nothing had ever come close to the pure, filthy pleasure that Stephen was giving you.

“Stephen, Stephen, Stephen,” you chanted. Your voice was laced with lust.

“Fuck, you feel so good. I can’t believe how good you feel, baby.”

He fucked you and took you, your pussy turning his thick cock all wet and sticky the more your pleasure grew. Moving your shaking hands, you grabbed at Stephen’s hair, yanking at his locks. Stephen seemed to like that as he groaned in response, his thick length literally twitching inside of you.

“I love how you feel,” Stephen grunted. “You have the tightest, little pussy. You feel so good wrapped around my cock. I love it. I love how you feel so much.”

You stayed put, right there on Stephen’s length as he kept fucking you from underneath. His cock slid into you so easily, his tip hitting that spot again and again. You knew he was going to make you cum soon. You could just feel it. The pleasure increased by the second, your heart racing as he thrusted into you at the perfect angle.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you told him with a whisper. “Oh, Stephen!”

Stephen seemed to take that as a challenge, because before you knew it, his fingers were digging into your ass tighter as he took you, fucking you so fast and hard that you could barely believe it. He hit that spot. That sensitive spot. He hit it over and over, until your eyes shut tightly and your ears started to ring, and then it was it for you.

A second later, your orgasm took over. You couldn’t be quiet. You just couldn’t. You came right then and there, squeezing at Stephen’s cock. You were trembling from top to bottom as Stephen groaned deeply. You guessed that he could feel you clenching around him, his cock throbbing wildly as he pounded into you deep and hard, giving you all of his cock until he lost it.

He grunted, shooting his thick load right into you. “Oh, fuck. I’m cumming. I’m cumming for you, beautiful girl.” Stephen held you right up against him, holding you nice and tight. He kissed you softly. “You were amazing. So amazing, my beautiful girl.”

You couldn’t say anything. You just stayed there, the both of you trying to get your breathing back on track. But soon Stephen stood up, keeping you in his arms. You let out a whine when his cock slipped out of you. Stephen got you settled on the chair, pulling up his shorts.

“I’ll be back in a second,” he told you.

And he was. With a washcloth in hand, Stephen gently cleaned you up before tossing the material to the floor. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“I am,” you said, voice low. You were so tired.

He smiled down at you. “I should ask you to cut my hair again if this is what happens after. Also, that was a total of five out of five star hair cut right there. Great service.”

Chuckling softly, you slowly moved off the chair and put your shorts back on. “Well, I better get back to my room. I don’t want us to get caught together.”

“Okay, sweetheart.”

He leaned in close, giving you a slow kiss. You hummed against his lips, kissing him softly before making your way to his door.

“I’ll see you around,” Stephen offered, his voice warm.

You gave him a bright, satisfied smile. “Definitely.” With that, you made a quick and sneaky exit back to your bedroom, that same smile on your face.

Tag list: @butchers-girl @azu21 @polytheatrix @lucimorningst4r @evelyn-kingsley @withalittlehoney @mirikusashes @bobateadaydreams @strangelockd @thealleydog @cemak @stewardofningishzida @lady-harvey @smokeywhalee @floatingfireflies @marym7 @iamsherlocked1479 @icytrickster17 @asherloki @ssinimbrn-catsr0pia @aphroditesdilemma @strangesthirdeye @scxrleth3r @rmoonstoner @stephenswh0re

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lokidokieokie · 5 months

Text

Change is Never Easy

Summary: The two of you called it quits a month or so ago...and then Y/n faints during a shift. Change is never easy.

Pairing: Surgeon!Strange x Fem!Nurse!Reader

Warning(s): ex-lovers, exes to lovers(?), fainting, unexpected pregnancy

The atmosphere at General-Metro had quickly become thick with tensions ever since the breakup. Dr Stephen Strange and Nurse Y/n L/n had officially called it quits a few weeks ago, and the lingering awkwardness between them was impossible to ignore.

Navigating the hallways was like tiptoeing through an emotional minefield.

Y/n, nursing her wounded heart, did her best to keep up appearances during her shifts. She tried to focus on her tasks and avoid any unnecessary encounters with Stephen.

The air of the hospital was constantly charged with unspoken words and unresolved emotions; and the slightest interaction left both of the medical professionals on edge.

On one fateful day, while Y/n was basking in her lunch-break, the build up of the emotional strain proved too much. In the break-room, surrounded by the hum of vending machines and the distant chatter of her coworkers, Y/n collapsed.

Panicked voices echoed through the room as her coworkers rushed to her aid.

---

The current events of Stephen Strange's ex did not reach him until later on in the day, courtesy of one Christine Palmer, who had intercepted him in the bustling hallway.

"Stephen, have you gone to check on Ella? Something happened to her during her shift, and I haven't had to opportunity to see her yet," Christine whispered urgently, concern etched into her voice.

Stephen's brow furrowed in confusion. "What? No, I haven't. Is she alright?"

Christine briefly briefed him on the situation before she got paged to another emergency, prompting Stephen to abandon his current path and seek out Y/n.

When he found her, lying down in a quiet corner of the hospital, seemingly alright, the relief on his face was undeniable.

Slowly walking over to her, he brushed a stray hair out of her face. "What happened to you?" Concern prominent in his voice as he dragged a chair over.

With a flutter of her eyes and a shaky smile, Y/n greeted him. "Hey, Stephen. I don't really know what happened. I just felt incredibly dizzy, and then everything went black for a moment. I'm probably just dehydrated, I'm sure everything is fine."

Stephen raised his eyebrows, and his professional instincts kicked in. "People don't just faint for no reason, Y/n. I'm going to order a few tests to make sure."

Before calling in others, Stephen quickly did an examination, asking her about her symptoms and taking note of her vitals.

As Stephen focused on the exam, Y/n couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. Their interactions were once filled with warmth and familiarity. Now, they were tainted by the awkwardness that hung in the air like a heavy cloud.

She was broken from her thoughts by Stephen's sigh of relief. "Physically, you seem find. I'm still getting other tests done to be thorough."

Y/n nodded, appreciating the concern emanating from her ex-lover. "Thanks, Stephen. I appreciate it."

---

It was probably about fourty-five minutes later when Stephen was given Y/n's test results. His eyes scanned the report, his expression changing from professional concern to surprise. Y/n, being curious and anxious about what he had seen, couldn't help up speak up.

"Stephen, what is it? What's on the report? Am I okay?" she pressed, her eyes searching his chiseled face for answers.

Taking a moment to compose himself, Stephen finally spoke, his voice a mix of disbelief and realisation. "Y/n, you're...pregnant."

Time seemed to still as the revelation hung in the air. Y/n's eyes widened, mirroring Stephen's astonishment. The awkwardness of their recent breakup was momentarily forgotten as they processed this unexpected twist of fate.

"Pregnant?" Y/n repeated, the word feeling foreign on her lips. "But we were careful?"

Stephen's mind raced, still processing the news. "Well, it seems we have to blame the twisted mind of the universe for this."

~~~

A/N So...I'm back from the dead 🙃 Sorry for another hiatus, Uni sucks, but I'm on break now :) Hopefully I can write more...but I'm me sooooo, please don't get your hopes up. BUT, there will be a part two of this that I have already pre-written so...

taglist (lemme know if you want to be added or removed) @thewaithfuckingannoyme @evelyn-kingsley @moonlight-ee @fall-myriad @ironstrange1991 @asgards-princess-of-mischief

sorry if you weren't added and had asked to be, I lost my taglists :(

#stephen strange #doctor strange #dr strange #stephen strange fanfic #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange imagine #stephen strange fanfiction #dr stephen strange #dr strange x you #dr strange fanfiction #dr strange x reader #doctor strange x fem!reader #doctor strange fanfiction #benedict cumberbatch x reader #benedict cumberbatch #exes to lovers #pregnancy #unexpected pregnancy trope

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eviesaurusrex · 2 years

Text

“ᴍʀꜱ. ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ.” | ꜱ. ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ

Stephen Strange x Avenger!Wife!Reader

summary: It’s YN’s and Stephen’s wedding day. That’s it.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: nothing, just tooth rotting fluff, but some suggestive bits if you squint, some bickering between Tony and Stephen

author’s note: That’s just a “little” drabble because I need to get back into writing Stephen <3 Totally self-indulging here because I want that Stephen to be my husband bye

;

The buzzing sound of almost 150 guests echoed through the lavishly decorated venue while waiters and waitresses glided through the crowd to fulfill every guest’s wish and desire for the booze and appetizers Tony had personally handpicked. The memory alone of the Stark, sitting at the kitchen counter with an assortment of every possible canapé one could imagine, made her eyes roll, but a smile tucked at her lips.

He may not be her biological brother, but he damn sure behaved like one ever since she sat foot into the former Stark Tower, following a busy Fury and Hill, and didn’t know what to expect.

Now, at this very moment, it felt like another life. Now, she was one of the most powerful beings – and married.

Looking down on the hand that held the glass full of the (probably immensely expensive) white wine she had secured at the bar, the two silver bands twinkled up to her – one with more shiny stones she had ever imagined to have, and the other more simple but just as beautiful as her engagement ring. Older guests had suggested to take off the first promise to fully (and proudly) display the second promise given today, but one needed to kill her in order to get that ring off her finger.

Softly shaking her head, YN leaned against a pillar, took a sip of the cooled wine, and closed her eyes for just a second. She only needed a minute to destress and savor some sanity before heading back into the loud environment of which she was the centerpiece. Somehow the invitation list had gotten longer and longer and up to a number she never imagined hosting a wedding for. It was strange how life could change, but YN never wanted it a different way.

Long strides crept closer and closer, but she almost didn’t catch them, too deep in thought and enamored by the view in front of her. They had been lucky with the weather all day long, and now, the most beautiful of sunsets graced her eyes. A sigh escaped her softly colored lips, full of contentment and happiness.

“Mrs. Strange,” a voice in her back startled YN a bit. Still, she turned her body slightly and looked over her shoulder to spot the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on. A smile full of contentment, but mild wonder, etched itself on her lips. “That’s me,” YN grinned, still not over the fact that she indeed married this dream of a man.

Stephen smiled down at her after he took the last two steps to stand directly in front of her – his wife – and cupped one of her cheeks to press a soft kiss on her lips.

“Yes, that’s you,” the sorcerer whispered and kissed her another time while he wrapped his arm around her waist and held her close. YN had her eyes closed, savoring the feeling and the calm moment between them. It was the first since the photo session had ended, and the guests had demanded their full attention and availability. She had obliged because, after all, most of them were considered family in her eyes. But now, after almost four hours of mingling, small talks, and barely any time for the newlyweds to themselves, she had enough.

Another sigh escaped her lips as YN gently rested her forehead against his chest, and she promised herself to only stay there for a few seconds. But as always, she couldn’t move after Stephen had bent down his head to press a soft kiss on top of her hair. His big hand stretched itself over her almost bare back (the dress may seem a bit over the top with the low cut back, covering the exposed skin only by a thin layer of lace, but it had spoken to her in that damn dress showroom) and started a pattern of soothing brushes and strokes. She could feel the slight shakiness in it, but she knew him better than herself, and that’s why she was certain that it was worse than usual. She raised her head again and furrowed her eyebrows, wrinkled her forehead, and studied his handsome face.

Stephen knew that look in her eyes all too well, and she didn’t need to ask the question laying on her tongue – but she did nonetheless. “Is everything alright?” Forgotten was the glass of wine that had found its new home on the small table just around the pillar (which was actually a plant stand, but it didn’t matter), and YN grasped his arm to pull the moving hand from her back. She enveloped it with both her hands – one was too small and not enough – and with her thumb, gently rubbed over the scars on his knuckles and long, elegant fingers. The sorcerer nodded, almost invisible to unknowing eyes. “Long day,” he said, and YN cooed lowly before pressing a kiss on the back of his hand and removing the lipstick stain with a soft laugh.

“We could just… run and flee. Start the honeymoon earlier. It’s our party, after all,” the bride suggested with a mischievous gleam in her eyes, and Stephen shook his head, a chuckle rumbling in his chest. Instead of taking her hand and doing just that, the man put his arm back around his wife’s waist and looked her up and down. “And being robbed of the opportunity to show my gorgeous wife off? Please.” He bent down and whispered, “I need to imprint the fact that you’re off the market and mine into every single brain of all those foolish boys.”

He straightened himself again and smirked his signature smug grin at the sight of her lovely blushed cheeks. YN hit him against his chest with an open hand and scoffed. “As if they didn’t know that already.” She rolled her eyes at his antics, but Stephen only grinned. But then, she grasped his black tie to pull him closer to her. Their bodies were pressed firmly against each other, which was another promise for the upcoming night, but one of the more suggestive kind. Stephen caught himself with a hand propped upon the cool stone of the pillar in her back, right next to her face, and her other hand was placed at the nape of his neck, fingers softly carding through the short hair there.

Now it was her lips that softly touched his ear. “Everyone in there knows that I was always yours, without a pause or doubt. Ever since meeting you, it had always been you, and only you. I wouldn’t have needed a big wedding or a ring at all to prove to the world that I belong to Stephen Strange and him alone, but I did it because I loved the prospect of wearing your rings and showing you off.”

YN’s lips brushed from his ear over his jaw until they reached the corner of his mouth. The breath had caught itself in his throat, and with a low growl, Stephen pulled her even closer – if that was even possible. “You’re making an unholy man out of me, wife,” he rasped, but YN laughed at that with a twinkle in her eyes. “You were never a holy man, Stephen, don’t try to fool lil ol’ me.” She kissed the corner of his mouth another time before rubbing the lipstick off it. “But keep your dirty thoughts to yourself for just an hour longer because I see the rest of the not-so-secret secret boy band coming right up to us.”

At the sound of Stark’s voice, the sorcerer had to roll his eyes in annoyance. Was it too much to ask to get his wife to himself? But he straightened his posture nonetheless.

“The wedding was a complete success. No running on his part, but I’m not sure which outcome I would have liked better.” Stephen rolled his eyes – Tony never was a fan of their relationship, not to mention the engagement – and Steve cleared his throat and smiled at the pair. “Again, congratulations. Don’t mind him or his words.” Thor wasn’t far behind with his reply. “I caught him crying during the ceremony, Lady YN.” Scott nodded in approval. “Even heard him saying something nice about Harry Potter.” Now it was YN to roll her eyes and shake her head. “You lot are insufferable,” she grinned before trying to push Stephen to say something, but that man was stubborn as a brick wall.

Instead of saying something, he surprised everyone around him – plus herself – by scooping his wife into his arms and carrying her from the balcony. “Party is over, Stark,” he spoke over his shoulder while YN started to giggle and chuckle. “We’re having a private party.” At his mumbled words into her ear, the woman grinned brightly, and a laugh escaped her at the sight of an opening portal that showed her most favorite spot in all of New York City.

“I finally can dance with my deadly handsome husband in peace and without any of those pestering stares of all those drooling women.”

Now it was Stephen who grinned and put her down on the soft grassy ground of The Battery, the portal closing behind him with a soft swoosh. The couple ignored the surprised stares of the few people that mingled in the park to get a good look at Miss Liberty.

“I never looked at them. Didn’t even know that they were there.” YN smiled up to him while he pulled her close, both hands around her waist, her hands back in his neck. “I know,” she whispered with a confidence unknown to her before Stephen came into the picture.

With him, she knew that this was a forever kind of thing.

;

Thank you for reading, lovely human! As always, comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated ♥️

Taglist:

@poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @seasonofthenerd @onecrazydirectioner @meeksmusic83

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ultralightpoe · 6 months

Text

Haunted House - Stephen Strange

Authors Note: HAPPY HALLOWEEN

Word Count: 1,286

Warnings: illusions to smut

Description: Small halloween blurb.

This is apart of my Halloween event, stay tuned for a new story every hour!

Happy Halloween!

It starts as a small whisper from a mother to her neighbor. “Did you hear about the witch and warlock?” The neighbor talked to her sister, this time whispering “The witches are running a haunted house.” Her sister tells her coworker about it, and on and on and on.

Within days the news of ‘The Haunted House’ travels and everyone is preparing for it. Making plans to stop by on Halloween because who in their right mind would miss this?

But no one, NO ONE, was as excited as Stephen Strange.

The sanctum was normally to remain hidden unless the person called to it, but on Halloween (and with proper protection spells of all the artifacts) he began a tradition of opening the sanctum to the world and unleashed his powers upon them…… but that wasn’t his favorite part of it all.

No.

His favorite part was you, his wife, and your natural power.

You came from a coven when he met you, cocky and beautiful, everything about you powerful and smooth. You ended up saving him from a demon, showing him up in all but two moves before you vanished.

It took months of this, you popping up and saving him, before he finally got your name. Wong had warned him about you, warned him about your coven as well.

“They are purists, the witches are not to interact with warlocks or humans. If they find that she does, she could be stranded or worse killed.”

But Stephen couldn’t stay away, he was drawn to you.

Months and months, seeing you became a natural thing and soon enough he was completely in love. Your coven expelled you, and though you had been upset about losing your mother and sisters you had agreed to marry him and you had formed a happy family with him.

And there was one night a year that you allowed yourself to actually unleash the depth of your power.

“America!” You call up the stairs, fixing your cliche witch hat once more before moving to fuss over the streamers on the railing. “Baby wizard come on, it’s nearly time!”

“Coming!” She calls, and Stephen comes around the corner, leaning on the wall as he watches you fuss over the decorations before your adopted daughter rushes down the steps in her own wizard costume.

“YOU LOOK GREAT!” You squeal, pulling her in and fixing the shoulders.

“You’re not mad I chose wizard over witch?” America asks, allowing you to fuss over her.

“Absolutely not, I think you look great. Now where is-”

“Right here.” Stepen smiles before you even have to finish asking, turning slowly to show you his outfit.

“Those are your normal robes, Strange. This is supposed to be-” He smiles and holds out his hand, allowing a fully decorated cloak to fly to him. Cobwebs and black paint over him, and the second he latches on the outfit Stephen had been wearing transforms into the sinister version of it.

“Better? Mrs. Strange?”

“Perfect.” You smile, stepping closer to kiss him deeply before pulling back and clapping your hands.

Stephen takes a moment to admire you, trying not to grow a hard on at your costume before you are finally ready to begin.

“Alright, when the clock strikes 6 we will begin. A new round every hour. Understood?”

“Ready.” America smiles.

“I guess.” Wong sighs from his spot by the door, pretending not to be excited even though he was.

“Extremely ready!” Peter calls, swinging from the ceiling and landing next to America. Another one you had managed to adopt, you had ripped the memory curse and managed to allow everyone in the sanctum to remember him. “Remind me of my role one more time.”

“You’re the dead man hanging, darling.”

“Right. Got it.”

“Let’s begin then.” It takes everything in Stephen not to kiss you when you smile, your eyes shining that magnificent purple. He loved this holiday.

The clock chimes 6 times, echoing out to the first crowd that had formed outside, bouncing on their feet excitedly as they wait for the Sanctum to appear, and once the 6th chime hits a heavy cloud of purple smoke appears and then the building is revealed. Gasps travel through the crowd as everyone pushes forward, stepping up the concrete steps happily.

The doors open slowly, the purple smoke working as a fog as a serene voice rings out to the crowd, lulling them all in. “Come little children, I’ll take thee away-”

Janey, who had just turned 17 three days ago, takes a couple steps in and once 30 people had made it in the doors slam shut and the lighting goes down easily, everyone nearly surrounded in darkness as a purple cloud forms above them. “Follow me, if you dare….”

And there you were, Janey could do nothing but blink up at you as you emerged from the cloud, floating. You were everything.

“It’s the witch of the sanctum!” Someone yells, pointing as if you weren’t the easiest thing to see in the room. You smile, a cheshire cat smile as you gesture for everyone to follow, leading them into your house of horrors.

The last batch of people come in at 4 am, most of them college students not ready to end the night. You had to pull back the scares a bit so there were no incidents. But by the end of the night you are left on the stairs, laying down with a small smile as Stephen comes to find you.

His touches are gentle as he lifts your head to sit on the stairs with you, laying your head on his lap and brushing your hair.

“Have a fun night?”

“The best night ever.” You yawn. “Reminds me of my old home. Especially when the hellhound ended up chasing after that biker guy. If only he knew she was just a puppy who smelled bacon.”

“Why would he have a burger in his pocket, I still don’t understand that.” Stephen jokes, trying to ease the tension in his chest as he gazes at you. He knew you missed it, your family. “I’m sorry baby.”

“Don’t be sorry, Warlock.” You whisper, sitting up and pulling him in for a soft kiss. “Thank you for letting me have fun tonight.”

“I enjoy it, you are msot gorgeous when you’re not taming your powers….. But the medusa trick was a bit much this year.”

“I TURNED HIM BACK.” You defend, smiling from ear to ear. “But we might have to tone down a bit next year.”

“We?” He laughs and you shrug. “Fine. I might have to tone it down next year.”

He grabs your chin softly, pulling you close until his lips are grazing your own. “Don’t ever tone it down, Witch.”

“No problem, Warlock.” He lets himself kiss you then, opening a portal to your room and allowing himself to destroy you.

Janey goes to school, whispering about the house. She tells her friends of the smoke and how the witch had turned a man into solid stone and the hellhound. She tells them about the epic maze of blue star shaped portals that lead them from room to room, each one containing another world.

The news travels about the hellhounds and the flying demons. The skeletons that walked amok and the young man that hung himself in the foyer at the end. (They didn’t know that Peter was using his webs as a harness and the spell you put on him made him unrecognizable)

By the time the police went to the address they found nothing but an empty warehouse, Stephens protection spells back in place keeping his witch and his family safely tucked inside.

{Would love to write more about reader witchling and warlock Stephen}

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sweetpinkchampagne · 5 months

Text

sinful II

18+ readers only please lovelies!! (this is for a reason please listen<3)

little synopsis: the reader is tonys daughter (he had her young, canon doesnt exist) theres tension between you and stephen, an obvious age gap keeping you from eachother (26, 40). theyre 'trapped' in an elevator together and the tension crumbles.

its been 2 days since the elevator incident and stephen has left you high and dry.. at an event you spot stephen with a young model in his lap, clearly he has a type. an angry confrontation leads to sex in a bathroom.

pronouns: female pronouns are used

relationship: fem reader x stephen strange not established relationship

note: i do not know what possessed me to write this shit, i will not apologise. i love you <333

warnings: defined age gap, stephen being possessive, controlling smut, dd/lg kind offf, petnames, semi public sex

it had been two nights, two long nights since your slip up with stephen. since you dropped your façade. you had woken up in his bedroom to cold sheets and an empty pillow. he had gone. fuck that, you thought. neither of you texted each other and conveniently he missed two days of work. well, define work - because he managed to find it within him to show up to a gala your father had thrown. a very fancy gala where people bidded on expensive technology and played characters for an evening. mingle with potential investors, keep up with appearances, engage with the press. those were the rules, and you weren’t going to disobey your father. another interesting detail that was headlined by TMZ, “doctor stephen strange seen with blonde supermodel. love or lust?” you weren’t blonde, or a supermodel by trade. that struck a nerve.

it was 8pm, the gala had started an hour ago but you decided that just in case he did show up, you wanted to make a statement. your dress was a floor length black lacey number, with a sheer element that somewhat exposed your lower back and your ass. cascading down the stairs elegantly, you pushed open the doors loudly, fuck it you wanted to be seen. interrupting some old white man's bid on your father’s new bionic eye invention. the room went silent and heads whipped around. you sauntered over to the round table that seated natasha and maria, plopping yourself down in the seat next to the lovebirds. out of the corner of your eye you could see a man with jet black hair and grey streaks eyeing you, tongue in cheek, jaw clenched and you loved in it. natasha was the only person who knew of your one night stand turned revenge plot - therefore so did maria. you loved them both dearly.

“he’s staring, oh he’s livid.” natasha chuckled, adjusting her necklace. you swiveled turning back in your seat to grab a glass of very expensive champagne from the waiter, thanking him.

“who’s that?” maria cocked her head, studying the blonde sat next to him. you knew it was her, you didn’t bother to look.

“stella whitford, shes a 26 year old model for dolce and gabbana.” natasha nearly spat out her red wine at your retort and maria snorted.

“jesus stark! what are you, a stalker?” nat composed herself before looking back at the model. whitford was laughing, stephen whispering something in her ear. must have been fucking hilarious.

“not a stalker, i'm just...well–read.”

“didn’t think TMZ was your kind of read.”

“oh, so you guys saw it too?” maria nodded before mumbling an insult directed to stephen under her breath and nat agreed. you shrugged in response, "it's clear he’s just a middle aged man who preys on young women. i couldn't care less. honestly." you lied

“oh come on..” natasha responded, giving you an all-knowing look.

“sold!! to edward tieran for 6.5 million dollars!” the sound of the mallet against the wood ringing in your ears as the crowd clapped. you heard the blonde pleading behind yo, far away and stephen firmly saying no. controlling prick. stella stood up, dismissing stephen before making her way to your table. you appreciated that.

“hi! oh my god, i know this is totally unprofessional but i’m like a big fan and i just- i'm sorry i just wanted to meet you! i’m stella.” she grinned widely, adoringly looking at you. she was so sweet. it was clear she had no idea about you and stephen.

“oh! no, don't apologise, that’s so sweet!! it’s so nice to meet you stella” you shook her hand before natasha queried politely.

“are you sitting with, strange?” she said with a smile on her face. you kicked her ankle from under the table and maria bit her cheek to hold back her laughter.

“oh, yeah. he’s just a hookup, to be entirely honest with you i just wanted to attend a gala. i begged for him to take me and he finally gave in! he’s not my type, he was just in the right place at the right time.” a wave of relief washed over you, drowning you. you all continued chatting, politely mingling and she swiftly checked her phone seeing it was 10:30pm.

“i'm so sorry! i have to go, i have this like really important club event to go to, you know how it is. there’s a buncha modelling scouts there. it was so lovely meeting you guys!!” she quickly hurried off, abandoning stephen.

“i love her, can we take her home? she’s so precious” natasha teased at how threatened you were by stella. you felt stupid. she was lovely. more than lovely, and she was absolutely gorgeous.

“okay, okay.. i got it. she’s very sweet and i feel like an idiot.” you groaned, your head resting against your hand, your elbow on the table. it was bad manners, but whatever. servers holding plates of the regular beef and chicken circulated the venue, placing meals to the left of attendees.

“i'm just going to go to the ladies room, i’ll be back” you sighed, ducking in between the servers, apologising but still confidently walking. you opened the doors to the lobby, it was entirely empty. the bathroom was beautiful, with gorgeous marble pillars and sinks. you touched up your lipstick and stood there composed. you washed your hands and dried them with a paper towel, still embarrassed. you walked with your back to the door to the bathroom, throwing your balled up paper towel into the bin. and suddenly, thud. a lean but muscular body hit you. before you could turn around to see who it was he spoke.

“nice shot” you could recognise that baritone voice anywhere. you rolled your eyes and turned around.

“i could get you kicked out for harassment for standing in the women's bathroom” you bit back. you were all riled up.

“what? you're lonely, date leave you or something??” you said turning around. he was smirking. god you wanted to slap him. you swore you weren’t an angry person but he did things to you.

“oh don’t tell me you’re jealous, dear.” he walked forward, essentially pushing his way into the bathroom before he shut the door. jealous?? please.

“you were the one who left, didn’t speak a word to me and then hooked up with stella whitford - who by the way, can do so much better than you.” you scoffed.

“you reading up on me, baby? i didn’t know you cared for me that much” he chuckled, looking around the bathroom, continuing to step forward before your lower back hit one of the beautiful marble sinks.

“drop your panties” he said lowly, undoing his dress shirt’s sleeves, before efficiently rolling them up and backing you against the sink and lowering his head down to look at you.

“excuse me? you can’t just barge in here after you left me in the dark" you were swiftly cut off.

“do I need to repeat myself? i said, drop your fucking panties, stark. don't be bratty.” he had your chin positioned up, looking into your eyes, tutting. that cold, sexy stare. would you be weak for giving in, because god you wanted to.. without thinking you complied, shimming down your skimpy black lace underwear and throwing them at his chest. he chuckled at your childish response before he spun you around and unzipped your dress. he didn’t rip it, he unzipped it.. that was new. the dress fell to the floor.

“elbows on the sink for me, pretty girl, can you do that fr’ me??” you were putty in his hands.

“this isn't fair and you know it.” you retorted, the cold marble stinging your elbows.

“i know baby, let me kiss it better for you, yeah??” the sound of him undoing his belt sent shivers down your spine. this wasn’t exactly a private bathroom, anyone could walk in at any time and he knew it. before you knew it he was pounding into you as you gripped the sink, hot breaths fogging up the mirrors as the sound of skin hitting skin echoed through the room.

“oh stephen.” you moaned, throwing your head back slightly, he wasn’t kind, this wasn’t making love - this was pure sex.

“fucking christ you’re addictive.” he groaned before speeding up his pace. he was hitting your cervix unmercilessly. his knuckles white as he dug into the plush of your hips. god he looked good in a suit. the pounding against your g-spot made you whimper, your eyes glazed over and your mouth parted. your hair wasn’t in the pretty curls they were before you stepped into the bathroom.

“god- i’m.. go- gonna.” you whimpered and he smirked at you in the mirror, watching you intently.

“right there with you, come on sweetheart. give it to me, make a mess fr’ me.”

you were done for. you came with a loud cry, your body shaking and trembling as the last waves of pleasure washed over you. he released your hips and kissed the back of your neck, giving you a satisfied, cocky smile. you collapsed in his arms, your heart still pounding as he cleaned you up, redressed you and propped you back up on the sink. his scarred hands gently taming your hair and tucking a curl behind your ears. he kissed your forehead as you looked up at him dumbly, face flushed, freshly fucked, head empty. how could you have said yes?

“fucking christ you’re addictive” the words he had spoken previously, ringing in your ears, stuck in your head.

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jawabear · 2 years

Text

His bed (Dr Stephen Strange x Reader)

Not my GIF (i really cannot get over his bed)

A/n: So it's been a while since I wrote anything so this probably sucks. But I hope you enjoy it. There are no spoilers for MoM so you're good to read this if you haven't seen it, but it's an amazing film. But yeah, enjoy some spicy Strange smut.

Genre: smut

Warnings: fem!reader (she/her), RP (Doctor, patient), general smutty things, his come is meds(?), little bit of dirty talk

Summary: His bed is far to comfortable to leave, his girlfriend finds a way to convince him to let her stay there all day...

If there was anything she loved about being in a relationship with Dr Stephen Strange, it would be his lavish bed.

Of course she loved him, she loved everything about him, even his annoying stubbornness at times. She loved that he didn’t try to be something he wasn’t. He knew his strengths and he knew his weaknesses. He embraced them, even if only with her.

But his bed was something else entirely. She loved going to bed stores and would lay on every single one of them, but his was a cut above the rest. It was the perfect plus mattress. Not too firm but not too soft. She felt like she was sinking but she knew something would catch her. She could lay in it all day. And thats what she planned to do.

She stretched out and rolled onto her back feeling more at peace then she had in a long time. It was like she was sleeping on a cloud. Only one thing could make it better, if Stephen was next to her.

“Are you planning on being a productive human today? Or are you going to lay there and look pretty all day?” Stephen appeared next to her seemingly out of nowhere (she knew better now than to ask) with two cups of steaming tea. One for him and one for her. She smiled up at him and gratefully took the tea from him, sitting up a little in order to drink it safely. He came and sat next to her.

“You think I’m pretty?” She asked looking at him with wide eyes and she sipped her tea.

“The prettiest, baby” he chuckled. She placed her tea on the bedside table and moved back onto her back. “Seriously, are you going to get up at all today?”

“I don’t want to” she whined “your bed is too comfy. I can’t leave it” she paused for a second and looked up at him with pleading eyes. “I think I’m sick. I can’t leave the bed”

“You think you’re sick?” He asked playing along. She pouted and nodded “well then, let me have a look at you. Have to check you’re not contagious” he pressed the back of his hand to her forehead and hummed playfully in thought. “You are insanely hot” he commented. “Maybe I should do a full body check. Just to make sure”

It was lowkey cringe but also somewhat sexy of him to say such a thing. Her tummy swirled as he stood and pulled the blankets off her to reveal her almost naked body, she was dressed only in one of his very old shirts that he had no need for anymore. “But tell me” he began as he swung himself onto the bed in between her legs, spreading them apart so he could nestle so close to her wet pussy. “What really seems to be the problem with you?”

“I feel…” she thought for a moment about her answer, figuring out the best one to give for what she wanted to receive from him “unsatisfied” Strange quirked an eyebrow at her. “That’s why I just want to lay in bed. I have no satisfaction outside of it”

“Well then, we can’t have that can we?” He said as he leaned down and pressed his lips to her in a deep kiss which grew more and more heated. She hummed and lifted one of her legs over his hip. “Hmm? You seem pretty satisfied to me. Is a simple kiss enough to tide you over?” He tried to pull back after his cocky remark but she wouldn’t have it.

She moaned and shook her head, pulling his head back down she kissed him more feverishly. “Need more” she mumbled against his lips “need a larger dose of you, Doctor. Need all you can give me”

“As a doctor, I’m in no place to deny you what you need. As long as you promise to take your medicine like a good girl”

“Yes. Yes sir I will. I won’t make a fuss or anything. I’ll take whatever you give me” she breathed desperately.

His long and talented fingers trailed down her body and settled in between her legs, teasing her wetness. “So wet” he whispered against her lips. “This will make administering the medicine all the more easier. And pleasurable…” he growled the word and moved his lips down to her neck, sucking and licking at her skin. She rolled her head back, submitting fully to him and his touch.

Stephen circles his fingers around her clit making her bite her bottom lip and moan. “You definitely are unsatisfied if this is enough to get you moaning like that. Maybe you don’t need the dose”

“No!” She protested “please. Need it all. Want it all!” She begged bucking her hips into his hand for more friction. “Love it when you touch me, Doctor Strange” she knew that the name did to him align from her lips the way it did. It drove him wild. He would turn into an estranged man and loose himself completely within her.

He grit his teeth as he spoke, “do you?” He asked “do you love it? Love it when your doctor touches you like this? Stroking your wet pussy like this? Teasing that pretty clit?”

“Yes” she panted as his finger rubbed fast circles around her sensitive bud of nerves. He was pulling her ever closer to her climax. Her knees were bend and her toes were curling at the blinding pace he had set in motion. But even still she wanted more. She needed more. “More” she whispered mindlessly.

“More?” He chuckled mockingly.

“Yes!” she cried out as his fingers slipped into her hole, restarting his fast pace, doing his fingers in and out of her. “Yes! Want that! Fuck! I want you! Want you to make me forget! Just want to know you!”

His dick practically jumped in his loose fitting trousers. She had never been quite so desperate for him before. Either she was dedicated to the character, or he really hadn’t been satisfying her needs lately. He was hoping it would be the former. Ever the cocky man.

Her fingers flew to his shoulders and dug her nails into the thin fabric of the shirt he was wearing. “Gonna come?” He asked her. He quickened his pace slightly wanting to pull her over the edge so that he could fuck her.

“Yes, yes, yes” she pleaded it like a mantra. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Her walls fluttered around his fingers, her body shaking from the pleasure. “Fuck! Stephen!” She cried.

He slowed his fingers down until he came to a stop and pressed his lips to hers. “Still want more? You look pretty fucked out already” he was always so cocky, even when he was desperate himself.

“Please Stephen” she begged “please. Fuck me. Use me. Make me feel better”

He was in absolutely no position to deny her request, so, with the help of a spell, he shed his clothes and lined himself up with her soaking hole. He could’ve stared at it for hours but his own pleasure was calling him. He gave his length a few tugs before pushing himself into her. A grunt sounded from the back of his throat as he bottomed out in her.

“Fuck baby. So wet” he moaned as he kissed her again. “I love you so much”

“Love you too, Stephen”

He hiked her legs up almost folding her in half as he fucked himself into her at a mind bending pace. Her mouth hung open and her eyes were rolled all the way back in her head. She let out a drawn out moan of his name. She managed to move her hands to his hair messing it up completely in her pleasure even after he spent so much time making it look perfect like he always did.

“Always so perfect baby” he grunted. His hands gripped the pillow either side of her head as he pushed himself into her faster and harder than he had ever gone before. He still wasn’t sure if she was just making a story line to get him into bed or if she actually wasn’t being satisfied enough. He couldn’t live with himself if he knew he wasn’t satisfying his queen properly.

He could feel her overstimulated hole begin pulsing around him only shortening the length he could hold out before he came for her. “Keep doing that and I’m gonna come all too soon” he told her in a deep voice which only made her stomach swirl all the more. She moaned a little too loudly for her own liking but it was very much to his liking. The sound pulling him ever closer to his end “fuck…”

“Please Dr Strange…” she whispered in a voice full of bliss. “Need to…finish the dosage…”

“Oh don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll keep you more than enough to keep you going” he slammed his hips into hers making her back arch off the bed before he moved on of his fingers between their bodies and began rubbing unbelievably quick circles on her clit. She let out an inaudible scream as she tried not too loose her mind in the insane pleasure he was giving her.

“Please…please, Stephen” she begged breathlessly “wanna come. Need to come…gonna…come..” Her voice grew higher in pitch with every word, a telltale sign to him that she was going to come.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Come for me. Be a good patient and come for me. Take your meds like a good girl”

Her nails dug into his scalp as she came, her hole pulsing around his length making his head spin as he came soon after her. Neither of them were able to make a single though for a moment before his lips fell on hers. “I’ve got you baby” he whispered against them as he began to slow his thrusts to a stop.

For a moment more, they stayed in the same positions, both panting and trying to gather any kind of reminisce of the English language.

(Y/N) loosened her grip on his hair and began slowly running her fingers through the now messy strands. He slowly pulled himself out of her and fell onto the bed next to her.

“My love…” she sighed contently as she smiled.

“Need a minuet…” he hummed. He lifted his arm over his eyes. She rolled onto her side and ran her hand up and down his still heaving chest.

“Did I tire you, Doctor?” She teased “maybe staying in bed all day isn’t such a bad idea now is it?”

He let out breathless laugh and dropped his arm to look at her “was that your plan all along?”

“And if it was?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

He rolled onto his side and pulled her into his arms “a sick patient needs her bedrest. Especially after such a treatment”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here”

“A good doctor always stays to observe for side effects”

23/05/22

#Stephen strange #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange fanfic #dr strange #dr strange x reader #dr strange fanfic #marvel #smut #fanfic

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ilguna · 5 months

Text

☼ when the dead rise pt2 (Stephen Strange) ☼

summary; five years pass, and you come to terms with the fact that you may never see Stephen again. when Tony calls you, telling you that there may be a way to change everything, you decide to take one more chance.

warnings; swearing, willing starvation, needle mention, weapon usage, death, blood, ehh gore, suicide mention, weight gain/loss, kinda cringe if you think about it, happy ending!

wc; 18.7k

notes; the entirety of endgame, haha, i'm not kidding. with nonsensical talk of time traveling, more angst, some fluff, tony and y/n get along, and stephen is there at the end.

part one.

—

The galaxy that you’re floating in is beautiful. It’s perfect, and if you weren’t here right now, sitting in front of the window, you’d say that it’s not real. There’s a mix of the rainbow out there, the brightest hue being aquamarine. Which paints everything in the spaceship the same shade.

You’ve been sitting here for hours, just staring at the stars. They don’t change, captured at their best times. It’ll be millions of years before they burn out, by then they’ll have fulfilled their purpose. There will be no regrets.

You wish you could say the same.

“(Y/n), are you going to come over and eat?” Tony asks from behind you.

He’s sitting at the table with Nebula, they’ve been going back and forth playing their games, trying to keep entertained. You heard him talking about eating, but you never bothered to join the conversation. You don’t have the energy to get up and go over there.

“No, I’m fine.” You murmur, leaning into your knees, arms wrapped around the back of your thighs. “Go ahead and have the rest.”

It’s quiet for a moment, then you can hear him sigh. “You haven’t eaten anything today.”

“I know.” You tell him. “I’m not hungry.”

The sound of a chair scraping against the metal flooring fills the air. You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath. His footsteps echo through the ship, shuffling to a stop behind you.

“You haven’t been hungry for the past couple of days.” He says, voice surprisingly gentle. “You can’t do this to yourself. It won’t change things.”

With gritted teeth, you swallow thickly, and let out an uneven breath. “I know that too, Tony.”

He moves to stand right next to you, letting out a grunt. When you open your eyes, looking over, you see that he’s sitting beside you, legs crossed. The shiny silver bag is in his hand, he shakes it, looking inside.

“It’s some sort of mix. It doesn’t taste good at first, but it’ll grow on you.” He says, holding it out for you.

You stare at him, pressure building behind your eyes again. Your lips begin to tremble first, face twisting as the tears take over. Tony frowns, setting the bag down, and reaches to pull you in a hug. As you begin to cry into his shoulder, he squeezes you tightly, causing the ache in your ribs to surface.

“I just want him back.” You sob, “Is that too much to ask for?”

DAY TWENTY-THREE

“It’s been twenty-three days since Thanos came to Earth.” Rhodes says, he’s standing at the wooden table where a holographic projection displays out of a cylindrical device in the middle.

In the air, you’re able to see the faces and names of those you lost that day. It’s constantly rotating, a few of them being Nick Fury, Bucky, Sam, Wanda, Peter, and Stephen. There’s more, of course, faces you don’t recognize because you cut ties with the Avengers a couple years ago.

“World governments are in pieces,” Natasha begins. “The parts that are still working are trying to take a census and it looks like he did…” She trails off for a moment, Tony pushes up his glasses, hand covering his face when Peter appears in front of him. “He did exactly what he said he was gonna do. Thanos wiped out,” She sighs, “Fifty percent of all living creatures.”

There’s a moment of silence across the table, you play with one of your rings, twisting it between your fingers.

Tony moves his hand, lifting his head. “Where is he now? Where?” He’s currently in a wheelchair, hooked up to an IV. He’s looked better, but to be fair, so have you. You’re two peas in one miserable pod.

While you came out with bruised ribs and a gnarly scar from where Thanos had ripped out a chunk of your skin—which Tony tried his best to repair while on the spaceship. He had to fight through an infection from being stabbed by his own nanotech, which Nebula had the pleasure of healing.

In the end, there was only so much food to pass around on the ship. Even though you’d gone days without eating, it didn’t help the supply any. However, your weightloss is nothing compared to Tony’s, because he’s sick at the moment.

“We don’t know.” Steve says, his arms are crossed over his chest. He’s leaning against a table nearby. “He just opened a portal and walked through.”

Tony wheels forward, sighing, looking off to the side. “What’s wrong with him?” He asks, motioning to Thor. He’s sitting in a separate room, leaned forward on his knees, a hard expression on his face, moving his thumbs.

“Oh, he’s pissed.” Rocket says. He’s a talking raccoon that was part of Quill’s group, you met him after you landed back on Earth. Which only happened because Tony and Nebula set off a distress signal, and a woman named Carol Danvers came to save you. “He thinks he failed.” Tony’s hand falls. “Which, of course, he did, but there’s a lot of that going around, ain’t there?”

“Honestly, until this exact second I thought you were a Build-A-Bear.” Tony says.

“Maybe I am.”

“We’ve been hunting Thanos for three weeks now.” Steve says. “Deep space scans and satellites and we got nothing.” He pauses, looking up at the table. “(Y/n), Tony, you fought him.”

“Who told you that?” Tony asks. “I didn’t fight him. No, he wiped my face with a planet while the Bleecker Street magician—” You turn your head to look at him, eyebrows drawing in. “Gave away the store. That’s what happened.”

“Don’t talk about him like that.” You snap, suddenly getting up from your chair. When it begins to fall back, you catch it with one hand, slamming it against the floorboards. “Prick.”

“There was no fight, ‘cause he’s not beatable.” Tony finishes, unbothered by you.

“Okay,” Steve nods. “Did he give you any clues, any coordinates, anything?”

Tony makes a noise, saluting Steve. “I saw this coming a few years back.” He sinks into the wheelchair. “I had a vision. I didn’t wanna believe it. Thought I was dreaming.”

Steve stands. “Tony, I’m gonna need you to focus.”

“And I need you.” Tony says, it’s muffled because of the hand in front of his mouth. He drops it. “As in, past tense. That trumps what you need. It’s too late, buddy.” He shakes his head. “Sorry.”

You run a hand through your hair, and then settle into crossing your arms.

Tony sniffs. “You know what I need?” He slaps a bowl away from him, the spoon clattering against the table. He gets to his feet, one hand on it as he leans forward. “I need a shave. And I believe I remember telling all youse…”

He begins to pull at the IV needle, Rhodes steps toward him. “Tony, Tony!”

“...alive and otherwise, that what we needed,” He does a circular motion. “Was a suit of armour around the world. Remember that?” His voice is raising. “Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not. That’s what we needed.”

“Well, that didn’t work out, did it?” Steve asks.

“I said we’d lose.” Tony points to himself. “You said, ‘We’ll do that together, too’. And guess what, Cap? We lost. And you weren’t there.” Steve sighs. “But that’s what we do, right? Our best work after the fact?” Rhodes grabs Tony by the arms to steady him. “We’re the ‘Avengers’. We’re the ‘Avengers’, not the ‘Pre-vengers’.”

He looks at Rhodes, who nods. “Okay.”

“Right?” Tony asks.

“You made your point. Just sit down, okay?”

“Okay.” Tony says, looking away. “No, no, here’s my point. You know what?” He points at Carol. She’s unamused, “She’s great by the way.”

“Tony, you’re sick. Sit down.” Rhodes tries to push him down.

“We need you. You’re new blood.” He pushes off of Rhodes. “Bunch of tired old mules. I got nothing for you, Cap.” He walks to stand a foot away from Steve. “I got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options. Zero. Zip. Nada. No trust, liar.” He whispers.

You watch as he reaches up to grab the arc reactor, ripping it from his chest. Tony’s breathing becomes uneven, as he grabs Steve’s hand, and slaps the reactor into it. “Here, take this. You find him, put that on, you hide.” He falls to his knees.

You, Steve and Rhodes move forward at the same moment.

“Tony!” Steve reaches for him.

“I’m fine.” He says. “Let me…”

His eyes roll back, collapsing.

—

Tony lays on a reclined bed, unconscious, with Pepper beside him, holding his hand. Rhodes drops off his glasses on the bedside table, and then leaves the room, coming to join you, Natasha, Steve and Carol.

“What about you, (Y/n)? You never said anything.” Steve says, several eyes land on you.

You twist the ring, looking at the engraving on the inside for the hundredth time today. Always with you, it says. You found it in Stephen’s room one afternoon, after he’d asked you to clean if you had time. You couldn’t say no, and though he liked to make sure he looked neat, his bedroom could be a mess at times.

When you asked about it, he smiled and told you to keep it. You tried to resist it, hiding it in places all throughout the Sanctum to ensure that it wouldn’t end up back in your possession. He always knew where to find it, and at the end of the day, he’d give it back to you. A gift.

You never really liked wearing jewelry on your hands and wrists. It interferes with the whole ‘raising-the-dead’ thing. You can’t remember the amount of times you broke a bracelet or scratched a ring at the beginning. But when you finally accepted the gift and stopped trying to give it back, you promised Stephen that you’d wear it everyday.

Now you can’t keep it on, as if the gold burns your skin each time it settles into place. Always with you. It feels like a taunt, a joke, something you can’t get away from.

Where is he?

“No offense, Steve.” Your voice is colder than you mean it to be. “But if I knew anything, don’t you think I would’ve said something?”

Steve opens his mouth to speak, but Rhodes doesn’t give him a chance. “Bruce gave him a sedative. He’s gonna probably be out for the rest of the day.”

“That’s for the best.” You mutter, sliding the ring into your pocket.

“You guys take care of him, and I’ll bring him a Xorrian elixir when I come back.” Carol says, arms crossed over her chest as she begins to walk away.

“Where are you going?” Steve asks.

“To kill Thanos.” She says simply.

The four of you follow after her quickly, because her pace isn’t slowing down. “Hey.” Natasha calls, Carol stops and turns around. “You know, we usually work as a team here and, uh, between you and I, morale’s a little fragile.”

Rhodes leans against the doorway.

“We realize up there is more your territory, but this is our fight, too.” Steve says.

“You even know where he is?” Rhodes asks, looking up from the tile.

“I know people who might.” She says.

“Don’t bother.” Nebula cuts in, standing across the room. “I can tell you where Thanos is.”

“Well, let’s hear it.” You say, going down the steps to join her in the sitting room.

When you get inside, you see that Rocket is in here, too. Nebula moves to stand next to the window, waiting for the others to join you. You twist a chair around, sitting in it, and sinking into the navy blue cushions. Bruce and Thor roundup to join you.

“Thanos spent a long time trying to perfect me.” She says, once everyone has come inside the room. “And when he worked, he talked about his Great Plan. Even disassembled, I wanted to please him. I’d ask…” She pauses. “Where would we go once his plan was complete?” She turns her head. “And his answer was always the same.” She joins them at the table. “‘To the Garden’.”

Rhodes makes a face, tilting his head. “That’s cute. Thanos has a retirement plan.”

“So, where is he?” Steve asks, moving around the table.

Rocket pulls up a projection of the Earth. “When Thanos snapped his fingers, Earth became ground zero for a power surge of ridiculously cosmic proportions.” The projection sends off a blast to emphasize this. “No one’s ever seen anything like it. Until two days ago…”

He messes with the projection to show a different galaxy, zooming in until you’re met with a planet with rings around it. When you lean forward to see it, the name tag above reads, ‘PLANET 0259-S’.

“On this planet.” Rocket finishes.

“Thanos is there.” Nebula says.

Natasha leans in close. “He used the stones again.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Bruce nervously chuckles, he’s standing at the doorway. “We’d be going in shorthanded, you know.”

“Look, he’s still got the stones, so—”

“So, let’s get ‘em.” Carol’s eyes are locked on the planet. “Use them to bring everyone back.”

“Just like that?” Bruce asks.

“Yeah. Just like that.” Steve says.

You sit up on the chair at the sound of this.

“Even if there’s a small chance that we can undo this, I mean, we owe it to everyone who’s not in this room to try.” Natasha says, shaking her head.

“If we do this, how do we know it’s gonna end any differently than it did before?” Bruce asks.

“Because before you didn’t have me.” Carol says, hands on her hips.

“Hey, new girl?” Rhodes looks at her. “Everybody in this room is about that superhero life.” She tilts her head slightly. “And if you don’t mind my asking, where the hell have you been all this time?”

“There are a lot of other planets in the universe. And unfortunately, they didn’t have you guys.”

Rhodes and Steve make the same face at each other—fair enough.

Thor pushes up from where he’s sitting at the dining room table, still chewing his food. He walks up behind Carol, and she faces him. He holds his hand out over her shoulder, Stormbreaker—the axe that was made on Nidavellir—goes to him, narrowly missing her head, blowing her hair into her face. She doesn’t flinch.

He sighs, squinting, and then nods. “I like this one.”

There’s a moment of silence, you get to your feet, wandering over to stand at the table. Steve looks at you, “Let’s go get this son of a bitch.”

—

The planet that Thanos has chosen to inhabit is, unfortunately, gorgeous. It’s a peaceful place, quiet, with thriving nature and wildlife. The group of you walk in silence, allowing you to enjoy the sounds of the animals chittering around you.

It doesn’t take long before you come up to the wood shack that Carol had noticed when she came through the atmosphere about ten minutes ago. She went in first, while the rest of you waited in space, wanting to make sure that there wasn’t anything waiting for you on the planet.

She’d come back, happy to report that there wasn’t a single living being beside Thanos. No satellites, ships, armies. There weren’t even ground defenses. Which would’ve had you excited, if it weren’t for what happened last time you fought him. You practically had the advantage then, too. There were so many people with different abilities.

Bruce positions himself underneath the shack, wearing his iron suit to supplement the fact that Hulk is still out of commission. You watch as Steve waves his arm in a circle, giving Carol the signal. A bright and fiery beam goes right through the shack, and seconds later, she follows.

There’s the sound of Carol fighting Thanos, getting him into position. Bruce breaks through the floor first, with Rhodes and Thor coming through the ceiling. It isn’t until you hear Thanos screaming, do you concur that the gauntlet must be off, done in the most aggressive way possible.

Steve goes up the stairs first, you and Natasha following close behind. Carol has Thanos in a headlock, Rhodes holding his right arm, Bruce holding the left. On the floor lies Thanos’s hand, the gauntlet still attached to it.

Thanos is groaning, face twisted. Rocket makes his way around to the handle, flipping over the gold gauntlet. “Oh, no.”

You look over, expecting to see that everything is fine, besides his mangled arm. You’re met with empty slots, not a single one of the stones is attached to the gauntlet. You sigh, pressing your lips together.

Natasha and Steve share a look before he speaks, “Where are they?”

Thanos groans, Carol pulls her arm tighter, “Answer the question.”

Half of his face is scarred, as if he’s recently been in a fire. Your eyes trail down to what’s left of his arm, finding it in the same condition. In this moment, you can feel the little hope you have leaving your body.

“The universe required correction.” Thanos says. “After that, the stones served no purpose, beyond temptation.”

“You murdered trillions!” Bruce shouts, shoving Thanos back.

“You should be grateful.”

Bruce punches him.

Natasha takes a breath. “Where are the stones?”

“Gone.” He tells her. “Reduced to atoms.”

“You used them two days ago!” Bruce exclaims.

“I used the stones to destroy the stones.” Thanos says. “It nearly killed me.”

You shake your head, corners of your lips turning down. “That’s not true.”

“It is.” His eyes land on you. “But the work is done. It always will be. I am inevitable.”

“We have to tear this place apart. He has to be lying!” Rhodes says.

“My father is many things.” Nebula murmurs. “A liar is not one of them.”

“Ah.” Thanos breaths. “Thank you, daughter. Perhaps I treated you too harshly.”

Thor swings his axe up without notice, shouting as he cuts off Thanos’s head. It hits the ground with a thud, purple blood splattering against the wall, on Nebula's face. His body falls back.

“What?” Bruce breathes.

“What did you do?” Rocket asks.

“I went for the head.” Thor mumbles, turning to walk out of the hut.

The rest of you stand in silence, watching as Nebula walks over to his body, kneeling down to shut his eyes. You take in deep breaths through your nose to calm the rising anger. Various thoughts on how you could torture him, even though he’s dead, begin to come to you. You could drag his pathetic body back to Earth, conjure it everyday, make him work his fingers to the bone, never let him rest.

He took Stephen, you think.

You grit your teeth. “All due respect, Nebula, but we better burn his body.” You tell her, Natasha and Carol glance at you. You squeeze your hands into fists. “Or else I’m going to make sure he never rests. I could find thousands of ways to make the afterlife miserable, trust me.”

She nods at you, and then turns back to him.

You move to follow after Thor, who’s already down the stairs, traveling toward the spaceship. “If you need me, I’ll be by the ship.”

The hero suit fades away, falling back to your regular clothes. Your fingers dip into your jean pocket, coming into contact with the ring you’d stored earlier. You pull it out, holding it in your palm for a long moment. Then, you sigh, sliding it back into its place on your thumb.

ONE YEAR LATER

The dark clouds swirl above the field, acting as a warning that you don’t have much time to practice today. It rains often in New York, so this wouldn’t be your first time having to experience it while testing your abilities. However, it’s happened enough for you to say that you hate the feeling of it.

Lately, you’ve been feeling heavier whenever you come out here, like the ground is one giant blackhole and you’re constantly fighting against flying inside of it. The rain will only make it worse, and you can’t stand it when your clothes are waterlogged. It makes the seats of your car soggy.

Despite this, you take your time walking to the middle, not that you’re able to go faster than this, anyway. You haven’t been yourself for quite a few days, you think a cold might be coming on. Wong has begun to notice too, it was a struggle to convince him to let you leave the Sanctum. Which was done on the promise that you wouldn’t come out here to do this today.

Well, unfortunately for him, you can’t afford to lose time. Every day you spend on your ass, you take a step back from what you’re working towards—a breakthrough. It’s got to be right around the corner, this whole week, you’ve repeatedly felt yourself come to the ledge, but you were too afraid to jump.

You know now that this is how you grow to be stronger, to have a better understanding of your abilities. You can’t become a better hero if you don’t know how to sacrifice yourself sometimes, too.

There’s something under there, beneath the grass. It’s more than just the dead that you’re used to bringing to life. You get a feel for it each time you try, but it’s like uprooting a tree that’s been standing for hundreds of years. It’s resistant.

You haven’t told any of the Avengers yet, afraid to get their hopes up. You think that it’s those who were killed in the blip. The reason why it’s so hard to bring them back is because they don’t have physical bodies, so what happens if you try to put them back together?

It sounds ridiculous at first, but it’s not that heinous when you map it out. When you tried to explain it to Wong, he shut you down within the first thirty minutes, telling you that this isn’t how it works. You told him that it’s fine if he doesn’t want to have hope, you won’t let him drag you down.

It goes like this—it’s very simple—their bodies are everywhere. Those who were killed outdoors have been spread through nature. They were in the air at one point, but now they’re in the grass, the dirt, the Earth. They’re here, half the job is already done for you. What you need to do is focus on one person to bring back in the area, and work from there.

And it’s not even that ridiculous of an idea! When you were on Titan last year, directly after you’d lost Stephen, you tried that exact method. It’s where your inspiration came from. The ground shook, trying to listen to your direction. The issue is that you weren’t strong enough, you didn’t have enough practice to be doing something like that.

Now, you do. It’s what you’ve been working toward for the past few months, day in and day out, no breaks, absolutely no days off.

You slowly lower yourself to the ground, joints aching. You breathe heavily, sitting sideways on your legs, because your knees hurt from sitting on them for hours at a time. You place your hands in front of you, palms flat in the grass.

When you close your eyes, the ticklish feeling in your stomach rises. You focus on that, what it means, how long it’ll take for it to build before it becomes the dark energy that is necromancy. It isn’t until you feel the pressure beginning in your palms, as if you’re being sucked downward, do you switch to that.

You don’t allow it to bring you down, in fact, you pull back with ten times as much force. You’re coming to me, you think, not the other way around. It doesn’t want to, though, so you sort through the mass. Eyes bouncing from side to side behind your lids, looking for the weakest link.

You find it, and yank. The first few times, it doesn’t budge, it’s coming from several directions, exactly what you’re looking for. With this excitement, you beckon it toward you. The body isn’t fighting anymore, it’s like reeling in a dead fish. Which wouldn’t be appetizing to others, but it’s what you’re looking for.

The worry sets in when you realize that it’s not slowing down. You’ve just lifted your right hand off of the ground, when the matter surges through your body—your head whipping back so fast that you’ll be feeling it for weeks.

A scream tears through your vocal chords, fire eating you up inside.

It explodes.

You’re thrown into the air, body twisting at an awkward angle as you come into contact with the ground. You land on your bad shoulder, sending a spike of electricity through your torso and down your legs.

There’s an unbearable ringing in your ears when you roll onto your back, struggling to breathe through the cloud of black smoke that comes to choke you. Your head rolls off to your right side, fingers reaching to touch the scorched grass that you’ve landed on top of.

The moment you come into contact, it crumbles, turning to dust.

And so do you.

—

The consistent beeping of the heart monitor next to you is what you hear first. A moment of relief floods you, because this means that your hearing isn’t permanently damaged, but it’s fleeting when you realize what that means. Your eyebrows draw in, squeezing your eyes before you try to open them.

The hospital room is dark, the entire afternoon has been wasted away. You look to the window a few feet away, and find a lovely shade of blue and grey, blurred because of the raindrops that cling to the other side. It’s raining, of course, which means that you won’t be able to go out and try again tonight.

You roll your eyes, letting out an annoyed sigh, which you instantly regret when the pain seizes your entire body. You let out a grunt, pressing the back of your head into the pillow, teeth grit while you wait for it to pass.

You remind yourself that this is only a temporary setback. As soon as it’s not muddy out there anymore, you’ll try again. So, maybe not tomorrow, but the following day. You’ll do it again, and you’ll do it right.

A knock on the hospital room door makes you look over. It swings open without you granting entrance, making it a courtesy knock, and when you see who it is, there’s no explanation needed.

Tony Stark strolls into your room as if he owns the entire hospital. His eyes are on you, jaw set. You know this look, it’s the same one he gives right before he lectures you. The look on his face is the least of your worries when you see that his lip is busted and swollen. There’s also a cut across his forehead, blood leaking from it.

“What happened?” It hurts you speak, you wince, scooting to sit up higher on the bed. “How do you know I’m here?”

He shuts the door behind him, there’s no vase of flowers, not even a get well soon card in his hand. This is not a visit he’s making to check on your wellbeing, he doesn’t want to comfort you.

“I’m your emergency contact.” He tells you, stopping at the end of your bed. He sticks his hands into his pockets, eyebrows raised. “I got a call from the nurse because she thought you needed some support.”

You press your lips together, eyes drifting away from his face and to the door he just came through. Stephen is supposed to be your emergency contact, you did it when you got extremely sick during your first year of dating. He was worried you wound up dead somewhere when you hadn’t seen or talked to him for three days straight. He called every hospital in New York to find you.

Tony’s your backup, actually. You know that if anything were to happen to you, and if there’s no one else to make the decisions, he’d do what’s right and in your best interest. The two of you are very close, but you know he’d never let emotion get in the way if he knew you were suffering.

“I’m fine.” You murmur. “Just had an accident, that's all.”

“An accident?” Tony repeats. “That’s what you call raising a monster from hell?”

You blink, face twisting. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I mean, I think something exploded but there was no monster.”

“You weren’t awake for that part.” He tells you. “I just spent the last hour fighting it and your wizard buddy had to contain it.”

You stare at him, unsure if he’s telling the truth or not. A part of the evidence is his face, you suppose. You didn’t see anything, though. Just the smoke… which very well could’ve hidden it.

“What were you doing out there, anyway?” He asks.

“I’m working on something.” You adjust in the bed, settling back. “I’ve almost got it. As soon as I get out here, I’ll try again.”

“Try what again?”

You smile, “To bring them back, of course.” Tony’s face falls, he closes his eyes, shaking his head at you. “You have to hear me out first—”

“See, when Wong told me what you were up to, I didn’t believe him.” Tony reaches up, rubbing his face. “I thought that you couldn’t possibly be naive enough to—”

“Oh,” You groan out, waving your hand dismissively, “Don’t listen to Wong, he says I can’t do it. I’m so close though, I can feel it. I almost had it this afternoon, I think I just… chose the wrong thing, you know?”

“(Y/n),” Tony warns.

“See, this is one of the reasons why I didn’t want to tell you so soon. Either it’d get your hopes up, or you’d fall with Wong. Ignore him, he doesn’t know anything.”

You look out the window again. You’re not sure why he’s shutting you down like this. Out of everyone, you thought that he’d be the one that’d jump on your side. It wouldn’t be the first time he bet on something so outlandish. With him on your side, you think you have a better chance at succeeding.

Besides, you can bring back the dead, anyway. How is this that big of a stretch? And if you did pull a monster out of the ground—it’s even more the reason to believe you.

“I can bring them back, Tony.” You say.

“(Y/n), you can’t.” He says, “You tried, remember? You couldn’t then, and you can’t now.”

“Yeah, because I haven’t had my breakthrough yet.” You laugh, which dissolves into you grimacing. “I’m not strong enough. Just a couple more times, and I’ll have it.”

“No.” Tony waves his hand, as if he’s cutting off your plan. “You do any more of this, and you’ll get yourself killed.”

“That’s not true.” You shake your head. “We both don’t know if I can even die.”

“At the pace you’re going, it doesn’t even matter!” He holds his hand out. “In the end, if you die, all you would’ve been doing to yourself this entire time is torture.”

You tilt your head at him. “I know you’re worried about me, and I appreciate it. I’m fine, though, look at me.”

“I am, and I feel like I’m talking to a corpse. Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

“I’m sick, Tony. It’s just the flu.” You say.

“No, (Y/n), your body is wasting away because this,” He motions aggressively to the window. “Is all you do. Wong has been contacting me for weeks, afraid that you’re going to drop dead any minute.”

“Fine,” You sigh. “If you two are so worried, I’ll take a break, but I’m not giving this up. It’s a hiccup, as soon as I get it down—”

He cuts you off, “What would Stephen think of this?”

You stare, “Don’t.”

“No, you don’t.” He tells you. “I know we don’t have the best relationship at times, but I sure as hell won’t watch you kill yourself.”

“Then walk away.” You point to the door. “No one asked you to be here, to come in here talking about what Stephen would or wouldn’t want. You don’t know anything about him!”

“That doesn’t matter, because it doesn’t take a genius to know that he cared about you.”

“Get out.” You tell him. “Get the fuck away from me.”

He starts toward the door, not saying anything until he’s halfway out, turning to look at you. “If I catch wind that you’re doing this again, I’ll have you locked in a padded room for the rest of your life.”

Tony pulls the door shut tightly behind him.

THREE YEARS LATER

The clothes in the closet have lost their scent. After three years of picking them out to hold against your nose, there’s nothing left of him. Which means that your reasoning to stay in the Sanctum has finally expired. You have to move on.

This is by your own choice, not anyone else’s. Wong has made it explicitly clear that if you want to stay here, he will not say otherwise. He doesn’t mind it. In fact, you keep him company, even if your presence is mostly done in silence. What matters is that you’re in the room.

You took this offer, but told yourself that you couldn’t stay here forever. If you were going to be hung up on Stephen, you’d have to do it privately. So, you made a deal; the moment his room stopped feeling like it belonged to him, it was time to go.

You noticed it a few weeks ago, when you came back from the Avengers Compound to collect the last of your belongings. The team was falling apart, again, and as much as you wish you could say that you were going to stay this time, you weren’t. You were already planning on leaving for good, this was just the perfect excuse to use.

The moment you stepped foot into the bedroom, you knew there was no coming back. It felt like you were walking into a foreign planet, a place you didn’t recognize, despite being there hours earlier. Six years of living in this room, gone.

Since, you’ve spent your time trying to find an apartment you like for a decent price, that’s also close to the Sanctum. You almost cried when you got offered a perfect one a few streets away, ready for you to move in. However, your initial excitement has worn off. You’ve been dragging your feet the entire week when it comes to packing, because they had to finalize the paperwork anyway.

Which left you to do it all today.

For the past two hours, you’ve packed everything you own back into boxes and bins, stacking them by the bedroom door. You decided early on that it would be easier if you worked in phases. The hardest part would be detaching yourself from this place, which proved itself to be true.

You’ve cried a few times throughout the process, but it’s done now. The only thing left to do is bring the boxes down to your car, that’s waiting for you parked in front of the Sanctum.

You drag your feet, stopping in front of the first stack. A sigh leaves you when you reach to pull a box into your arms. When you realize it’s not heavy, you adjust to grab the one that was beneath it, too. You’re not entirely looking forward to going up and down the stairs a hundred times.

A sickness rises in your stomach when you leave the bedroom, beginning to go down the hallway. This feels wrong, like a one-sided breakup, leaving before the other person can get home. Your feet pause briefly, shoe squeaking against the freshly waxed floor.

That’s exactly what it is, isn’t it?

No, you think harshly, this is different. Stephen is never coming home. He’s lost, just like the trillions of other lives that were taken when Thanos snapped his fingers. This isn’t a breakup. A part of you wishes it were, because at least then, you’d still have a chance to see him around New York, even if it weren’t on good terms or romantically.

You suck in a deep breath, holding it as you begin your way down the stairs, the first trip of many. You drop these boxes next to the front door, wanting to pack your car all at once. That way, if there’s an issue, it’ll be easier to take it apart. You head back upstairs to repeat this process, it only takes a good fifteen minutes before you’re done.

When you go back to Stephen’s room one last time to retrieve the engraved, golden ring, your heart skips a few beats in your chest. You shuffle toward the dresser, eyes searching the surface, thinking that it might be blending in. You run your fingers over it, and come back with nothing.

You turn around to look into the room, face twisting, eyebrows pushing in as you struggle to remember if you had moved it or not. You walk to his nightstand, opening the drawers, rummaging through them, even though you could’ve sworn you never put it in here.

It’s not there. So, you move to your nightstand, where you’ve kept your jewelry in the past, especially the ring. Except, when you open the first drawer, you’re met with emptiness. You’ve already taken everything out of it, because it’s packed into one of the boxes downstairs.

You sweep the floor with your eyes, but it’s too dark in here. You throw the curtains open, flooding the room with sunlight. When you go back to looking, hoping that the ring will reflect the light, you can’t find it.

You switch to the closet, opening the doors to reveal that it’s half empty now. The only clothes left hanging are the ones that Stephen thought were too important to fold, and to keep them from wrinkling. There’s nothing here, not even in the darkest corner.

Did it fall under the bed?

On your knees, you press the side of your face to the floor, but the only thing under here are the dust bunnies. You make sure of this, too, when you grab a broom to bring it all out.

The panic begins to settle in, spreading through your body. How did you manage to misplace the ring? It’s the most valuable thing to you. You’d think you’d be more careful with something as sentimental as that—a ring from your dead boyfriend.

“Maybe it’s in a box.” You murmur to yourself to calm down, reel in the insanity that’s beginning to rise.

You head out of the bedroom, looking at the boxes over the railing. Once you’re down the stairs and in the foyer, you pull the first box off of the stack, opening the cardboard flaps, and pulling all of its contents out. There is no ring, so you push the objects away, off to the side, not bothering to repack it.

The further you get through the pile, the more hysterical you grow. The box that you’d packed with your jewelry doesn’t have it. The neatly folded clothes, now tossed on the floor, don’t have it caught in the cloth. It’s not stuck between the books, you didn’t accidentally throw it with the rest of your trinkets, it’s not with your electronics.

Everything you own is strewn across the foyer, as you continue to tear them apart.

It’s not here.

You get back to your feet, struggling to breathe, the tears starting.

The front door suddenly opens, you look over to see that it’s Wong. He gives you a wide smile at first, which slowly begins to fall when he sees the expression and the state the foyer is in.

“What’s the matter?” He asks.

“I lost the ring.” You whisper. “I don’t—I don’t know where it is. I’ve looked everywhere.” You turn around to motion to the mess you’ve made. “I don’t have it here, I even checked my car. I set it aside so I wouldn’t lose it and it’s not here. The one thing I carry with me and I’m stupid enough—”

“(Y/n),” Wong says, coming to grab your shoulders. You can feel his fingers pressing into the metal that makes up your left shoulder. A replacement that Tony made for you, covering the entire cost. “(Y/n), stop.”

You press your lips together, face contorting as you nod, trying to focus.

“I told you I was taking it to get cleaned, remember?” He asks, face twisted. He removes his hands, reaching into his coat pocket to pull out the small silk bag.

“Oh.” You breathe, feeling your body relax.

You cup your hands, watching as he carefully shakes the ring out of the bag. It’s polished, smooth. When you tilt it to see the inside, the engraving is there, untouched.

“Okay.” You say.

“You’re okay?” He confirms.

You nod, pushing it back to where it belongs on your thumb. “I’m sorry, Wong.”

“Don’t apologize.” He tells you, turning to face the foyer. “Do you need help repacking?”

“Will you?” You ask.

“Of course.”

FIVE YEARS LATER

The sound of a distantly familiar ringtone begins from the coffee table in your living room, again.

Your eyebrows draw in, turning your head to the side to listen through the first few notes. As you reach for the towel on the counter to dry your hands, you try to remember who it could belong to. It’s garish, dramatic. Whoever the person is, they must resemble the noise.

The bell finally rings.

It’s Stark.

You toss the towel back on the counter when you leave the kitchen. There’s a faint sense of urgency in your steps, considering that you’ve let him call you twice already, figuring that whoever it was would leave you a voicemail.

In fairness, it’s been a long time since you and Tony talked to each other, muchless on the phone. If you remember correctly, the last conversation you had with him happened right before you left the Avengers. Since then, there hasn’t really been a need to keep up-to-date with him.

All of his life updates are posted on social media, anyway. The only thing you’re obligated to do each year is send his daughter presents when the holidays come around. After all, it’s the least you can do after he saved your life and set you straight.

Sure enough, Tony’s face lights up your screen, a sigh escapes you. You pull the phone into your hand, swiping across the glass to accept the call. You press it to your ear, “Hello?”

“Do you ever answer your phone?” Tony’s voice comes through. “I mean, seriously, it took me three tries for you to pick up? What if I were dying?”

You roll your eyes, letting out a light laugh. “I would hope you’d call Pepper before me, considering we haven’t spoken to each other in almost three years.”

“Has it really been that long?”

“Yes, Tony. Is everything okay?” You ask, walking back to the kitchen.

“I’m fine, (Y/n). Listen, something’s happened.”

You put the call on speaker, setting your phone next to the sink so you can resume doing the dishes. “Good or bad?”

“Both.” He answers. You pull a plate out of the soapy water, scrubbing at it with a sponge. “You remember that fight between me and Cap, right? The one in Germany? There was the guy who could go from big to small?”

You hum, “Scott Lang?”

The sound of him snapping fills the air. “Yes, that guy. Well, he, Natasha and Cap showed up at my house the other day.”

He pauses, not going on any further. You wonder if there’s a point to this story, or if he’s just calling to tell you it’s weird that Scott flew from Los Angeles all the way to New York. Which you guess it is, considering…

Your hands freeze on the plate, eyebrows drawing in. “That’s not possible, Scott Lang was killed in the blip.”

“Yeah, I thought so too, but he’s here. They came over talking about quantum jumping, and how he got stuck in the middle of it when Thanos snapped his fingers. Five years felt like five hours to him.”

“And he’s alive?” You ask.

“Yes.” He sighs into the phone. “You know I wouldn’t be calling you if I thought I was just getting your hopes up.”

This is true. When you were parting ways with the Avengers, you and Tony had a long discussion about the future, and where both of you stood on the matter. You told him that you wanted to retire your suit for good. With there being so many heroes in New York again, there wasn’t a reason for all of you to be active anymore.

This set up the idea that this could be the last time you came face to face with them, because it was partially your plan. You can’t be sucked in if you refuse to be involved. He respected your wishes on this, and told you that if anything were to happen to you, he’d be there in a second if you needed him to be.

And before you left, you came to an agreement; if there was a way that either of you could turn back time and fix everything in a reasonable way, you’d be there, no questions asked.

“Okay…” You prompt him.

“(Y/n), I figured it out.” He tells you. “I figured out how to time travel. It’s taken me…” You can picture him shaking his head. “But I think we can go back and fix this. I think we can bring them back.”

You set the clean plate off to the side, placing the sponge back where it belongs in the ceramic dish. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

You lean over the sink, nodding slowly. “What did they say about it?”

“I haven’t told them yet. I thought you should be the first to know, that’s the deal we made, right?”

“Right.” You agree. “How soon are we doing this?”

“Today.” He says. “I’ll pick you up. We’ll sort it out with them when we get to the Avengers Facility.’

Your eyes land on the gold ring that’s currently sitting on the window sill. “I’ll be ready.” You murmur. “Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

—

“I remember why I stopped letting you drive me around.” You say, watching as the Facility grows closer. “Cause you’ve got a lead foot.”

“Shut up.” Tony tells you, taking a turn. “We’re almost there.”

“Try not to send us through the windshield before then.” You mutter, being thrown into the door, tires squealing against the asphalt.

As you near the front, you can see that Steve is standing outside of it, hands on his hips. Tony pulls up right before him, putting the car in park when it’s come to a complete stop. He rolls the window down, lazily moving his head to look at Steve.

“Why the long face?” He asks after a moment of silence. “Let me guess, he turned into a baby.”

Steve nods, looking away. “Among other things, yeah. What are you two doing here?”

You throw the car door open to get out before he can start driving again.

“It’s the EPR Paradox.” Tony gets out, too. “Instead of pushing Lang through time, you might’ve wound up pushing time through Lang. It’s tricky, dangerous. Somebody could have cautioned you against it.”

You shut the door, walking around the car to join them.

“You did.” Steve says.

“Oh, did I?” Tony mocks being shocked. “Well, thank god I’m here. Regardless, I fixed it.” He holds up his hand, which has the time traveling cuff—or whatever it is, you stopped trying to understand it after he explained it the second time. “A fully functioning time-space GPS.”

Steve smiles.

“I just want peace.” Tony holds up two fingers. “Turns out resentment is corrosive, and I hate it.”

“Me, too.” Steve says, looking at you. “What are you doing?”

“I’m here to help, obviously.” You give him a bright smile. “I can be useful, sometimes.”

“We got one shot at getting these stones, but I gotta tell you my priorities.” Tony says. “Bring back what we lost, I hope, yes. Keep what I found, I have to, at all costs. And maybe not die trying, would be nice.”

Steve nods again, holding out his hand. “Sounds like a deal.”

Tony takes it, they shake on it. You let out air through your nose, shaking your head as you wander away, staying close to watch Tony open the trunk of the car. He pulls out Steve’s shield, dumping the blanket and stuffed animal back into the car.

“Tony, I don’t know.” Steve mutters.

“Why? He made it for you.” He flips it around. “Plus, honestly, I have to get it out of the garage before Morgan takes it sledding.”

Steve takes it, holding it across his arm. “Thank you, Tony.”

“Will you keep that a little quiet? Didn’t bring one for the whole team.” He pulls out a red case, reaching up with his other hand to press the button that closes the trunk for him. “We are getting the whole team, yeah?”

“We’re working on that right now.” Steve says.

“Cool.” You turn around to walk to the doors. “Until we have everyone here, I will be sitting on my ass and doing exactly nothing.”

“Not very different from what you usually do, right?” Tony asks behind you.

You give him a sarcastic smile.

—

“Okay, so the how works.” Steve begins. “Now we gotta figure out the when and the where.”

There’s a set of three screens he’s standing by, each one showing two stones. It’s sorted into detail by what they look like, what they can be contained in, what building they were originally found in, and who might have them in their possession.

Your eyes are set on the most obvious one, the Time Stone. You and the others already pretty much agreed that you’ll be going after it. You know the most about it, after spending years of being around Stephen.

“Almost everyone in this room has had an encounter with at least one of the six Infinity Stones.”

“Or substitute the word ‘encounter’ for ‘damn near been killed’ by one of the six Infinity Stones.” Tony says, standing on the other side. There’s a coffee cup in one of his hands.

“Well, I haven’t, but I don’t even know what the hell you’re all talking about.” Scott says.

“Regardless, we only have enough Pym Particles for one round-trip each.” Bruce tells you, walking around the back of Scott’s chair. “And these stones have been in a lot of different places throughout history.”

“Our history.” Tony emphasizes. “So, not a lot of convenient spots to just drop in, yeah?”

“Which means we have to pick our targets.” Clint’s got his eyes on the ground.

“Correct.”

“So, let’s start with the Aether.” Steve says, eyes set on a specific target. “Thor, what do you know?”

Thor, who has since gained weight, forgotten how to shower, and grown a beard, sits in the corner of the room, slouched as deeply as possible in the chair. There’s a beer in one of his hands, the other rests on his stomach. The pair of sunglasses on his face prohibits you from seeing where his eyes are.

Everyone turns to look at him, waiting.

“Is he asleep?” Natasha asks.

“No, no. I”m pretty sure he’s dead.” Rhodes says.

Tony lets out a sigh, shaking his head. He slaps a hand on his shoulder, which jumpstarts Thor. “Rise and shine, buddy. What do you know about the Aether?”

Thor groans, “I was just about to get up.”

“Right.”

He gets to his feet, wanting to the front. “Uh, where to start?” He pulls off the sunglasses, holding them in his hand. “Um… The Aether, firstly, is not a stone. Someone called it a stone before.” He points at Steve briefly. “Um, it’s more of an angry sludge sort of a thing… so someone’s gonna need to amend that and stop saying that.” He tilts his head back to squirt eye drops into his eyes.

Your mouth falls open slightly, watching him do this. Is this what you looked like to everyone else when you freaked out that first year? Of course, you were the opposite of whatever Thor is representing, but still. His coping mechanisms are a hell of a lot worse than yours were… you think.

Clint comes beside you, pulling a chair out to sit down.

“Here’s an interesting story, though, about the Aether. My grandfather, many years ago, had to hide the stone from the Dark Elves.” He makes a ghostly sound, laughing in the middle. “Scary beings. So, Jane, actually—” The middle screen changes to show her face. “Oh, there she is. Yeah, so Jane was a—was an old flame of mine.”

You rub your face, letting out a sigh while you tilt your head back to look at the ceiling. These past few days already have been long, while you waited for them to design the time traveling suits, build the platform, and send Clint into the future as a test run. You can’t imagine what today and tomorrow are going to be like, if this is how it’s starting.

“You know, she stuck her hand inside a rock this one time and then the Aether stuck itself inside her and she became very, very sick. And so I had to take her to Asgard, which is where I’m from and we had to try and fix her.” Thor continues.

You swivel in your chair, facing Natasha. She raises her eyebrows, and you grab her notepad, dragging it in front of you. Clint offers up a pen on the other side, you take it, writing down that Jane Foster has the Aether in Asgard.

“We were dating at the time, you see and I got to introduce her to my mother,” He’s waving around the sunglasses. “Who’s dead and, um… Oh, you know, Jane and I aren’t even dating anymore, so.” He sniffs. “Yes, these things happen, though. You know? Nothing lasts forever. The only thing that—”

Tony goes up to Thor, grabbing him. “Why don’t you come sit down?”

“I’m not done yet.” He pushes Tony away. “The only thing that is permanent in life is impermanence.”

Tony claps twice. “Awesome. Eggs? Breakfast?”

“No. I’d like a Bloody Mary.” Thor smiles.

You take in a deep breath, “Can I get one, too, then?”

Tony looks at you, “Don’t encourage this.”

“Just something to get me through the rest of the day.” You reason, a teasing smile hinting at your lips.

He squints at you, directing Thor to sit back down in one of the chairs. “Let’s take a break, we’ll regroup at dinner.”

The group breaks apart, eager to get out of this room and away from Thor. You stay where you’re seated, and Tony doesn’t move, either. Thor seems disinterested, turning the can of beer on the table. Once the door has shut, you can’t contain your laughter.

They look at you, waiting for you to let them in on what you find so funny. You wave your hand, turning around in the chair to bury your face in your hands. You forget just how ridiculous this team can be at times. It’s more than just crime fighting, it’s camaraderie.

“Okay,” You breathe, facing them again. “Thor, can you give me a year where Jane was in Asgard when she was infected with the Aether?”

“Oh, sure.” Thor says, he’s composed himself. “It was twenty-thirteen. It won’t mean anything unless it’s in the Stone form, though.”

You hum, flipping the page over, writing down everyone that is planning to help. Next to Thor’s name, you put ‘R’ for the Reality Stone, making him in charge of that. He’ll need someone to go with him, of course, because he’s in no state to have this big of a responsibility, but you’ll figure that out later on. The point is that Asgard was his home, he’ll know how to navigate it.

Beside your name, you write ‘T’ for the time stone. No matter what the others say, you won’t let them take this one from you. If they want to help you, you’ll drag someone along. As far as you’re concerned, this will be under control.

“What are you doing?” Tony asks, coming around the table.

“Sorting this out.” You murmur, flipping back to the original page. You begin to write what you know about the Time Stone, which is more than what Thor could give you about the Reality. “Those who know the most about the stones should be in charge of them, I figured you don’t really think otherwise.”

You look at him, he makes a face, nodding to agree with you.

“What are you thinking about for dinner? Takeout will be on me.” Tony says, crossing his arms.

“Burgers.” Thor says, “A nice juicy burger.”

You make a face, “I’ve been craving Chinese lately.”

A few hours later, after everyone has finished what they were doing with the suits or the portal, you find yourself back in the room. Your suggestion on Chinese food was fairly popular with the others, so Tony took the order and had the food delivered to the Facility.

“All right, Ratchet, go for it.” Tony motions once everyone is settled in their seats.

“Rocket.” He corrects, giving him a look. “Quill said he stole the Power Stone from Morag.” The screen lights up purple, you set your fork down to write what he says into the notepad.

“Is that a person?” Bruce asks, smacking on his ice cream.

“No, Morag’s a planet.” Rocket says, standing on the table. “Quill was a person.”

“Like a planet? Like in outer space?” Scott asks from the other end of the table.

“Oh, look.” Rocket places his hand on Scott’s head, beginning to give him a head rub. “It’s like a little puppy, all happy and everything. Do you wanna go to space? You wanna go to space, puppy?” Scott pulls his head away, unamused. “I’ll take you to space.”

“Have you been to Morag?” You ask, looking up from the paper. “You or Nebula?”

“No.” Rocket says, turning around to face you.

“I haven’t, either.” She shakes her head. “I believe it’s kept in a temple.”

You blow a piece of hair out of your face. “Okay…”

You flip the page, finding her name on the list, writing ‘P’. You chew on the inside of your lip, thinking. When you look at Tony, you find his eyes on you.

“What’s the problem?”

“We’re going to have to go in pairs, anyway, right?” You ask, “What if…”

You write ‘R’ next to Rocket, knowing that he and Thor have worked together in the past, during the first fight with Thanos. They went together to Nidavellir, where Thor got Stormbreaker. They clearly get along fine. As for Nebula, lately she’s been working with Rhodes. That’s why you decide to pair them together.

Tony tilts his head, “I don’t see why not.”

It’s the following day when you finally get time to talk about the Stones again, since the conversation on Morag was thrown out the window when technicalities came into play. The group of you called it a night when Thor started talking about Jane again.

“Thanos found the Soul Stone on Vormir.” Nebula murmurs from the front.

“What is Vormir?” Natasha asks, holding the notepad. She’s been up all night writing notes, building off of what you’ve already got in there. When she offered to take it from you, you didn’t argue.

“A dominion of death at the very center of celestial existence.” She says, voice lowering. “It’s where Thanos murdered my sister.”

There’s a moment of silence between the few of you. Not everyone could make it to this time around. Tony opted out because he decided off the bat that he didn’t want to be involved with anything other than the Space Stone—the tesseract—because he believes that’ll be an easy grab, too.

Steve sighs.

“Not it.” Scott mutters.

This causes several people to look at him.

The meeting room is trashed two days later, there’s papers scattered across the room, as well as folders. There’s books opened to certain pages, laying open on the floor to be easily picked up and resumed when needed. Tony and Natasha lay on the table, with Bruce being on the floor, considering he’s permanently part-Hulk now.

You sit in the recliner in the corner, reading through all the notes you’ve gathered thus far, trying to put together a fairly decent timeline.

“That Time Stone guy.” Natasha finally breaks the silence.

“Doctor Strange.” Bruce says, you look up from your notes, clicking the pen.

“Stephen Strange.” You murmur.

“Yeah, what kind of doctor was he?” She asks.

“Ear-nose-throat meets rabbit-from-hat.” Tony says, he’s turned on his side, rubbing his face.

“He was a neurosurgeon, that’s why he likes being called Doctor.” You tell her. “He worked at the Metro-General hospital.”

“Nice place in the Village, though.” Bruce says.

“Yeah, on Sullivan Street?” Tony says back.

Bruce hums. “No…”

“Bleecker Street.” You correct.

“Wait, he lived in New York?” Natasha asks, no longer spinning the pen in her hand.

“Yeah—”

“No, he lived in Toronto.” Tony says.

“Uh, yeah, on Bleecker and Sullivan.” Bruce says.

“Have you been listening to anything?” Tony asks Natasha.

She holds her hand up. “Guys, if you pick the right year, there are three stones in New York.”

Bruce sits up, “Shut the front door.”

You nod, forcing the recliner back to its original position. “Space, Mind and Time, huh?”

“Yeah.” She says. “All we need to do is figure out who’s getting which one.”

An emergency team meeting is called. The four of you move to a different room to be in, because the last one is trashed. The others begin to trickle in steadily, all asking questions on what happened.

It isn’t until the last person comes inside, do you begin. “Everyone, this has gotten a whole lot easier.”

Tony nods, walking up to the projection. At the top, it’s titled ‘Time Heist’, courtesy of Scott, who’s attached to the idea of it. The sections below are broken into three. The first one being New York, which has Time, Space and Mind. The second one is Asgard, which obviously holds the Reality Stone. The third one is Morag / Vormir, for the Power and Soul Stones.

“We have divided the teams.” Tony says. “For team Asgard, we have Thor and Rocket, Morag will be Nebula and Rhodes, and Vormir is Natasha and Clint. As for New York, it will be the rest of us.” He turns around to face you. “(Y/n) has volunteered to grab the Time Stone, Bruce will go with her. Which leaves Scott, Steve and I to get the Space and Mind Stone, because it’ll be in the same buildings at the same time.”

“All right. We have a plan.” Steve says, crossing the room to stand in front of the projection. “Six stones, three teams, one shot.”

You stand up, walking to stand next to Steve. You grab his shoulder, making him turn to you. “Now we can get this son of a bitch.”

—

“Five years ago, we lost. All of us.” Steve begins. “We lost friends. We lost family. We lost a part of ourselves. Today, we have a chance to take it all back. You know your teams. You know your missions. Get the stones. Get them back. One round-trip each. No mistakes, no do-overs. Most os uf are going somewhere we know. That doesn’t mean we should know what to expect.

“Be careful.” He says. “Look out for each other. This is the fight of our lives, and we’re gonna win. Whatever it takes. Good luck.” He backs off.

“He’s pretty good at that.” Rocket says.

“Right?” Scott looks at him.

“All right. You heard the man. Stroke those keys, Jolly Green.” Tony tells Bruce.

“Trackers engaged.”

Clint holds out his hand, looking at the Milano—Rocket’s spaceship—which has been shrunk to make for easier transportation.

“You promise to bring that back in one piece, right?” Rocket asks.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Clint dismisses him. “Okay, I’ll do my best.”

“As promises go, that was pretty lame.” Rocket crosses his arms.

“It’s Clint, everything about him is lame.” You say, and when Clint looks at you, you give him our sweetest smile. “Isn’t that right?”

“Be quiet.” He tells you.

Bruce comes up the stairs to the platform, stopping to stand right next to you. He slaps his wrist, causing the platform to begin beeping. You take in a deep breath, tilting your head from side to side.

“See ya in a minute.” Natasha smiles.

The helmet comes over your face, you look down, finding that the ground has opened up, sucking you inside. You travel through… you’re not entirely sure how to describe it. At first, it’s a bright tunnel of color that quickly submerges you in blue, traveling through a molecule and into a white light.

You land on your feet in an alleyway, the street in front of you is covered in debris and overturned cars. The time traveling suit disappears, leaving you in a pair of relatively normal clothes for this time. The sound of screaming, sirens and the alien beings moving around and shooting is slightly overwhelming for a couple seconds.

Steve marches forward. “All right, we all have our assignments. Two stones uptown, one stone down.” He must decide the coast is clear, turning around to come back your way. “Stay low. Keep an eye on the clock.”

Hulk roars, you look around Steve to watch as he lifts a car, smashing it into the alien, clearly killing him. Another one comes to save his comrade, but turns around and runs at the sight of past Hulk plucking a tire off the car and throwing it at a streetlight. Unsatisfied with his original smash, he jumps on the dismembered car a couple times, before stomping away.

Bruce covers his face, embarrassed.

“Maybe smash a few things along the way.” Steve suggests.

“I think it’s gratuitous, but whatever.” Bruce says, ripping off his tank top, walking to the street.

You shake your head at him, rolling your eyes. You begin to walk away, backwards. “This shouldn’t take long. Are you sure you don’t want my help with the other two stones?”

“We’ve got it covered, (Y/n).” Steve gives you a hard nod.

“If you say so.” You tilt your head, before following after Bruce, who’s lazily punching cars.

You walk behind him, amused at the way he tries to mimic how he was in the past. He was incredibly, unnecessarily destructive, wasn’t he? You can’t imagine the amount of things he tore apart or broke solely because he could.

“I think we’ll travel faster if we take the roofs.” He finally says, stopping.

“Why do you think that?” You ask, catching up with him.

He opens his mouth, letting out a sigh. “I don’t want to do this the entire way.”

“Well, unfortunately, you don’t have a baby carrier on you, so you don’t really have an option.” You shrug, “Just enjoy the walk.”

“I can’t.”

“Then don’t break shit, I don’t care.” You laugh, “It’s only a few minutes from here.”

He looks disappointed at your indifference, but he admits that you’re right. Bleecker Street and Sullivan isn’t that far when he’s listening to your directions on the quickest shortcuts. However, you have a problem when the front door to the Sanctum doesn’t open.

Your mouth pops open, tongue clicking. You place your hands on your hips, tilting your head back to see the roof of the building. Your face smooths over when you see orange magic shoot at an alien, causing it to explode.

“Get us up there.” You tell Bruce, it’s a command.

“Sure.” He says.

You allow him to pick you up, setting you on his shoulder. You struggle to balance while he scales the building, but it’s worth it the second you reach the top. He starts for the door that’ll lead you inside of the Sanctum, you don’t move from where you stand, eyes on the lady standing feet away.

A sinking feeling of disappointment hits.

“I’d be careful going that way. We just had the floors waxed.” She tells Bruce before he can open the door.

She’s British, she has an accent, and she’s bald. The robes she’s wearing is a shade of mustard yellow. And she has the Eye of Agamotto around her neck, the same thing that Stephen had in his possession. The Time Stone is right here.

The longer you stare at her, the more you believe you’ve seen her before, or at least heard of her. You go down the three steps, going to join her. You refuse to take your eyes off of her.

“Yeah, I’m looking for Doctor Strange.” Bruce says.

The lady lifts her head slightly. “You’re about five years too early.” She steps away, toward the edge of the roof. “Stephen Strange is currently performing surgery—” she lifts her hand to motion, “about twenty blocks that way.” She stops walking. “What do you want from him?”

“The Time Stone.” You tell her.

“Ah!” She looks down at the Eye. “I’m afraid not.”

“Sorry, but I wasn’t asking.” Bruce says, stepping over the metal bar to walk toward her.

“You don’t want to do this.” She warns him.

“Bruce, I think we should listen to her.” You tell him.

“Ah, you’re right, I don’t. But I need that stone and I don’t have time to debate it.” He says, hand reaching to grab it.

She slams the heel of her hand into his chest, Bruce falls to the ground, unconscious. You stare with an open mouth for a brief second, and then you snap it shut, looking at her.

Her eyes are already on you, head tilted. “Are you going to take it by force, too?”

“No.”

She smiles. “Let’s start over, shall we?”

It hits you after this, you squint at her. “You’re the one that Stephen and Wong talked about all the time. What is it—?” You wonder aloud, eyes drifting as you think. “Ancient One, isn’t that what they called you?” When you look at her again, she’s got her eyebrows raised. “You’re the Sorcerer Supreme.”

“You’re wise.” She says. “What’s your name?”

“(Y/n).” You tell her, she begins to think about it. “I’m not a student of yours, I’m just dating one. We need the Time Stone, it’s urgent.”

“For what, exactly?”

“We need it so we can bring back half of the population of every living being.” The words are grave, her facial expression changes. “We’re from eleven years in the future. And this is the only solution we have left. We have teams gathering the other five Infinity Stones, and when we bring them together in our time, we’ll be able to fix the damage that was done.”

“You want me to hand it over?” She asks you. “No.”

She begins to walk away, heading for the door. You follow after her. “Please, you don’t understand.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help you, (Y/n).” Her pace doesn’t slow. “If I give up the Time Stone to help your reality, I’m dooming my own.”

“With all due respect, all right…” Bruce’s voice echoes, you turn to look behind you, finding him in his original body, not the half-Hulk, half-Bruce one. Except, he’s see-through, a phantom, a ghost. He joins you two up the stairs, jogging in front of her to make her stop. “I’m not sure the science really supports that.”

With him standing between her and the door, she humors you. She reaches forward, yanking out an orange line right in the middle of them. It stretches far between the blocks of New York on both sides.

“The Infinity Stones create what you experience as the flow of time.” The stones create a ring around the orange. She reaches forward to flick the Time Stone. “Remove one of the stones and that flow splits.” You watch as a black line branches off from where the ring of stones is, creating its own path through the air. “Now, this may benefit your reality but my new one, not so much.

“In this new branch reality without our chief weapon against the forces of darkness our world would be overrun. Millions will suffer. So, tell me, Doctor. Can your science prevent all that?”

Bruce is rubbing his hands together, “No, but we can erase it. Because once we’re done with the stones we can return each one to its own timeline at the moment it was taken. So, chronologically—” he pulls the Time Stone out of the air, placing it back in the ring, remedifying the split timeline. “In that reality, it never left.”

She turns around, walking away. “Yes, but you’re leaving out the most important part.” She stops at the end of the roof. “In order to return the stones, you have to survive.”

“We will.” You tell her. “I promise.”

“I can’t risk this reality on a promise. It’s the duty of the Sorcerer Supreme to protect the Time Stone.”

“I know.” You murmur. “But Stephen had no choice but to give it to Thanos.”

She stares at you, “What did you say?”

“Stephen gave the stone to Thanos.”

“Willingly?” She asks.

“Yes.” Bruce says behind you.

“Why?”

“We lost the battle so that we could win the war.” You tell her. “It’s what had to be done.”

“I see.” She murmurs after a long moment of silence. She reaches over Bruce’s shoulder, summoning his body.

Bruce returns, back to being giant and green. You watch as she bends her fingers, moving her hands apart, unlocking the Eye. Inside sits the stone, she pulls it out, you cup your hand.

She doesn’t drop it quite yet. “Strange is meant to be the best of us.”

“He is.” You assure her. “He handed it over for a reason.”

“I fear you might be right.” She places the stone in your hand.

You’ve only held it one time before, when Stephen had to fix the Eye of Agamotto. It’s meant to be unbreakable with his spells, but there’s always an exception. He saw how much it bothered you, seeing the Time Stone out of place, and elected you to hold it while he repaired the Eye.

When you told him you were afraid you’d break it, he said that provides more comfort to him, because it means that you’ll be careful with it.

“Thank you.” Bruce says.

She steps forward, hands over yours. “I’m counting on you, (Y/n). We all are.”

“I’ll bring it back.” You tell her.

She lets you and Bruce go through the Sanctum to get to the street, not wanting you to crawl back down the building. As soon as you’ve stepped foot back on the sidewalk, you pass the Time Stone over to Bruce, “Here, you take it back.”

His face twists. “We’re going back together. Don’t you want to hold onto it?”

You shake your head. “No, there’s someone I have to see first.”

“You can’t, (Y/n), if you see Stephen, you’ll ruin the timeline.”

“That’s not who I’m going to.” You wave him off. “I won’t talk to her. It’ll be a few minutes.”

He nods, holding out his arm to type in the present day’s date. You watch as he warps into the air, disappearing. You begin to walk away, reaching up to touch your earpiece, “This is (Y/n) to Tony, Bruce has taken the stone back. How are we looking for the other two?”

Tony sighs in your ear. “There’s been an issue, Loki took the Tesseract and disappeared.”

Your feet pause, but quickly go back to walking, because you don’t have much time to be out here. “Okay, what’s the plan? You don’t have enough particles.”

“Cap and I are going back further in time, we’ll be able to get particles and the stone in the same place. We’re sending Scott back to the present. What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna visit someone. You two be careful.”

“We will.” Steve’s voice comes over. “Remember the plan, don’t interact with anyone.”

“I know.” You tell him.

It isn’t that hard for you to find young (Y/n), mostly because of the shredded asphalt and the decomposing bodies that lay on top of it. You follow this careless path, and divert from it to go through an alleyway, where it leads you right to where she is, standing a few feet away.

There’s a smile on her face, that dissolves into concentration, as she gets on the ground, hunching over to pull more of the dead out of the Earth. You remember this, it’s moments after Tony found you and told you to draw in as many of the Chitauri as you possibly could—as long as you could handle it.

You were so young back then, you had absolutely no idea what you were doing. Or that this would eventually lead you to becoming a hero, yourself. That day, you took a leap of faith, and it completely changed the trajectory of your life.

If you hadn’t done this, who knows where you’d be right now. If life would have treated you any differently. If you still would’ve joined the Avengers, just a few years later down the line. Or if you’d ever even get to meet Stephen.

It doesn’t matter, because you don’t think you’d ever tell your past self to change her mind.

“You’ve got this.” You say to her, eyes flickering between the time system and her, where she’s fighting. “Just keep pushing, you’re on the right path.”

As you type the date in, you watch as she looks up from the ground, eyes landing on you. You submit the time, and just before you leave, you hold a hand up to wave at her.

You’re sucked through the warp, as you travel backwards through the tunnel you took to get here. And despite leaving at different times, it joins you with the rest of your group. You arrive at the Avengers Facility at the same time.

The helmet falls back at the same time it does for everyone else, the suit following directly after.

“Did we get ‘em all?” Bruce asks.

Rhodes laughs. “Are you telling me this actually worked?”

Clint falls to his knees, staring off in front of him. You know this look, something’s happened. Your eyes try to switch to Natasha, hoping that she’ll offer an explanation, but she’s absent.

“Oh, Clint.” You murmur.

“Clint, where’s Nat?” Bruce asks.

Clint’s eyes are watery, his lips turning further down. There’s a long moment of silence between all of you, as the news settles in. You were warned by Nebula that the way Thanos got the stone was through losing his daughter. You were all hoping that she was being difficult and her actions got her killed, not… this.

Bruce falls to his knees, slamming his fist into the platform.

You sigh, shaking your head. “Shit.”

—

“All right, the glove’s ready.” Rocket says, adjusting the fingers. “Question is, who’s gonna snap their freakin’ fingers?”

“I’ll do it.” Thor says, coming over.

“Excuse me?” Tony asks, turning around.

“It’s okay.” He steps closer to the glove.

“Stop, stop.” Tony reaches to grab Thor at the same time Steve does. “Slow down.”

“Thor. Just wait.” Steve tells him. “We haven’t decided who’s gonna put that on yet.”

“I’m sorry. WHat, we’re all just sitting around waiting for the right opportunity?”

“We should at least discuss it.” Scott says.

“Look, sitting here staring at the thing is not gonna bring everybody back.” He brings his fingers to his thumbs on both hands. “I’m the strongest Avenger, okay? So, this responsibility falls upon me. It’s my duty.”

“Normally, you’re right.” Tony steps in front of him. “It’s not about that.”

“It’s not that.” He shushes him. “Stop it! Just let me. Just let me do it.” He whispers. “JUst let me do something good. Something right.”

“Look, it’s not just the fact that that glove is channeling enough energy to light up a continent. I’m telling you. You’re in no condition.” Tony tells him.

“What do you think is coursing through my veins right now?” His hands are on Tony’s shoulders.

“Cheez Whiz?” Rhodes suggests, you snort.

Thor is unamused, holding out a finger to quiet him. “Lightning.”

“Yeah.”

“Lightning.” Thor repeats.

“LIghtning won’t help you, pal.” Bruce says, finally going forward. “It’s gotta be me.” Thor looks at the ground, Tony moves away. “You saw what those stones did to Thanos. They almost killed him. None of you could survive.” He stops in front of the glove.

“How do we know you will?” Steve asks.

“We don’t. But the radiation’s mostly gamma. It’s like… uh, I was made for this.”

“If this is what you want.” You say, backing away.

Bruce nods, reaching into the case to pull out the glove.

“Good to go, yeah?” Tony asks.

“Let’s do it.”

“Okay, remember, everyone Thanos snapped away five years ago, you’re just bringing them back to now, today. Don’t change anything from the last five years.” Tony says.

“Got it.”

Your suit comes to cover your body, preparing for the worst. You shuffle behind Tony and Clint, where Tony brings up a shield as another form of protection.

“Friday, do me a favor and activate Barn Door Protocol, will ya?”

You watch as the skylight slowly covers with metal, as well as all exits, including doors and windows. That way, if anything goes wrong, the only people that’ll be affected are those who are standing in this room.

“Everybody comes home.” Bruce mutters, slowly pulling the glove on. The machinery adjusts to fit his hand, rather than Tony’s. When it secures, it sends a visible shock up his arm, all six Infinity Stones begin to glow.

Bruce drops to his knee, groaning, veins popping out of his forehead. He grabs the glove with his free hand, watching as it transforms.

“Take it off. Take it off!” Thor shouts.

“No, wait.” Steve holds out his hand. “Bruce, are you okay?”

Bruce throws his head back, the fabric on his arm begins to burn up, the colors of the stones are beneath his skin, traveling up the underside of his jaw. He’s in pain.

“Talk to me, Banner.” Tony says.

“I’m okay.” He breathes, as the stones begin to settle. “I’m okay.” He pants heavily, slowly lifting his hand. His green skin is now charred, black, glowing red underneath. Like bubbling lava.

He screams, preparing his fingers, and then snaps.

The glove falls off in an instant, Bruce unconscious on the floor, arm is sizzling.

“Bruce!” Steve crouches down next to him.

Clint kicks the glove away, Tony joins Steve. “Don’t move him.” The healing solution comes from his fingers, coating Bruce’s arm in white.

“Did it work?” Bruce asks, grabbing Steve’s arm.

“We’re not sure.” Thor says. “It—it’s okay.”

The metal sheets begin to lift, doors opening, allowing you to leave. Scott wanders away, and so does Clint a second later.

“Can you feel anything, (Y/n)?” Steve asks, looking at you.

You suck in a breath, closing your eyes, concentrating hard. You discovered a couple years ago that there wasn’t a need for the dramatics if you actually put some of your own energy in to pull some out. You sacrifice a little of yourself, digging deep, feeling around for the same heavy weight that there’s been for years.

“I don’t…” You murmur, head turning to the side, eyebrows drawing in. “I can’t say for sure.” You open your eyes. “It might be the building, it works better when I’m outside. I could go out—”

“Don’t bother.” Clint murmurs, picking up his vibrating phone, pressing it to his ear. “Honey.”

“Guys…” Scott breathes. “I think it worked.”

A smile breaks through when you make eye contact with Tony, finding your happiness mirrored onto him.

You did it.

You touch the ring on your thumb.

A blast of hot air throws you across the room, slamming you into the cement wall, head cracking against it. An explosion shakes the ground. A wave of dizziness hits you as you reach to touch the spot on your forehead, fingers coated in blood.

One second, you’re staring at your friends, and the next, the building is collapsing. The ground gives way beneath you, a scream leaves your mouth as you begin to slide, knowing full well that the Facility goes hundreds of feet underground.

The suit comes to cover your body as your fingers slip from the cement. Your stomach flies to your throat, lodging itself there as you begin to fall with the chunks of rock and debris.

Another rocket hits nearby, as your body is engulfed in fire.

When you wake, a sharp stabbing feeling flies through your abdomen. You reach to grab it, hands coming in contact with a steel rod. It’s wet, but not from your blood. The water from the plumbing system and the lake nearby rain down on you, causing sparks from severed electric wires to zap.

“(Y/n)?” You hear Bruce ask. “Are you with us?”

You struggle to breathe, hearing every breath enter and leave your mouth. You squeeze your eyes shut, head resting back. “I’m stuck.”

“I know, we’ll get Rhodey and Rocket over there to help you.” He says.

“No, Bruce.” You gasp, wincing. “I’ve been impaled.”

The sound of rushing water fills the air. You lift your head, eyes searching from the direction it’s coming from. It sweeps through the rubble, beginning to fill the hole you’re in.

“Guys!” The panic in your voice alerts Rhodes, “Help!”

Rocket gets to his feet, coming in your direction. “Oh, no.”

“Mayday, Mayday! Does anybody copy? We’re on the lower level. It’s flooding!” Rhodes says into the earpiece. “We are drowning! Does anybody copy? Mayday!”

“I don’t think we can get you out of this one.” Rocket says once he sees you. “Bruce, any chance you can come over here?”

“Not really.” He grunts.

You take careful breaths, trying to relax. “If I don’t get out of here, I’m going to drown.”

Rocket shakes his head, hands up. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”

“You don’t have any tools?” You ask, “To cut the bar in half?” He doesn’t respond, you close your eyes. “Fuck.”

“It’s filling up fast!” Rhodes shouts.

“Move back.” You tell him, he listens.

You grip onto the steel bar, “Come to me.” You murmur, the ground begins to shake under you, causing the pain to heighten. You grit your teeth, wanting to stop. “Come here.” You order.

The ground splits somewhere, the cement you’re laying on dips to the side, making you move. You resist the urge to throw your head back, trying to avoid a concussion.

“Oh, what the—” Rocket lets out, “What is that?”

Through half-open lids, you watch as a few of the dead come to crawl out of the rubble. They get to their feet, and without any other word, come to rescue you from where you are. The issue is that they aren’t so gentle, when they grab you by your shoulders and hips, pulling you free.

The insides of your body burns, as you bite back a scream. They drop you on your feet, and with the weight all falling onto your wound, you stumble forward and onto your knees, hand wrapped around the area.

“If you could do that—have them take the rubble.” Rocket motions to Bruce. “So he can get us out of here.”

“They’ll crumble beneath the weight.” You tell him, the dead grab your elbows, forcing you to your feet. “They’re not good for much besides fighting.”

“You can’t tell them to find a way out and we follow them?” Rocket suggests.

“We can’t leave Bruce behind.” You shake your head. “And it’s not guaranteed that it’ll work. They can lead us to a dead-end. They aren’t all-knowing.”

The roof is beginning to fall, Bruce shuddering beneath it. The water is coming through faster, you shuffle to stand with Rhodes, Rocket climbs up as far as he can. You tilt your head back, water creeping up your chest. The dead that were with you are now floating on their backs, no longer alive.

“See you on the other side, man.” Rhodes says.

Rocket whimpers, not liking the idea of dying. You pant, tears in your eyes. You’re going to die before you’re able to see Stephen again. For the past five years, you’ve held onto the idea that it could be possible. And now he’s back, somewhere, but not here.

“(Y/n), stop.” Rhodes warns you.

You cry, the water reaching the back of your head. “Get me out of here!”

“You need to breathe, you can’t hyperventilate under the water.” He says, it’s flooding your ears.

“I know.” You gasp. “I know.”

You take a deep breath in right as the water covers your face. For the first few seconds, you think that it’s fine. And then you reach out, grabbing onto Rhodes’s arm, squeezing tightly. You feel his hand over yours, trying to provide comfort.

The burning in your lungs begins in the second minute, pressure tight in your skull, adding to the lightheadedness. You want to open your mouth and suck in, despite knowing that you’ll fill your lungs with water. It’ll be quicker than fighting this, right?

An object surrounds you, bumping you to the side. Your eyes open suddenly, struggling to see through the murky water on what’s moved you. For a second, you think that it’s Bruce, until you find him joining you. The water current from the other side brings the four of you closer together, as what you assume to be the roof closes in on you.

But then the ground comes up, uneven, and you’re lifted into the air, water running. You gasp, desperate for air, coughing out the water. You drop to your knees, pushing your hair out of your face.

“It’s Scott!” Rhodes shouts.

He must grow through the Facility, because all you can hear is the concrete breaking to pieces around you. He opens his hand when it’s safe, the others jumping off, while you carefully take your time, eyes adjusting to the situation in front of you.

Thanos is here. There’s a giant ship in the air off to the left, with the Chitauri and the Leviathan’s coming out of it. Just like they had eleven years ago when Loki came to New York.

On the right side, is where you find several armies coming together to help. The army from Wakanda, led by T’Challa, the Asgardians, following Valkyrie and sorcerers, preparing behind Wong. And more, ones you don’t recognize, coming through the portals.

With one hand over your side, you hobble out to solid ground, eyes on Thanos. Your upper lip begins to twitch into a snarl, but it’s more for the laughter that catches in your throat.

When you come to a stop, you level your breathing as much as possible. You’ve brought back large armies in the past, but those will compare nothing to what you’re able to do.

The dark energy comes through your feet, snaking its way up your legs. You roll your shoulders back, feeling it wrap around your chest, alleviating the pain in your abdomen enough for you to remove your hand.

“Let’s play.” You smile, swirling your hand in the air. At first slowly, but growing faster, rock trembling, Earth reacting to what you’re demanding.

A hole appears, ground caving in on itself, creating a pit with no visible bottom. You shuffle to stand over it, peering inside. A cold gust of air blows your wet hair out of your face, goosebumps covering your arms.

“Come to me.” You demand, “All of you.”

There’s whispering, and sounds of hissing overlapping each other from deep below. They grow louder as they rise to the top. At the sight of the first undead climbing the walls, you back up to give them room. This is a trick you’ve been practicing for years, hoping you’d get the chance to use it here.

“Got anything for us, (Y/n)?” You hear in your earpiece, it’s Tony.

“They’re coming.” You tell him. “And mine will make the others seem like a joke.”

They crawl out, coming to their feet, walking forward. At first, a few at a time, not wanting to overwhelm the area, or anything. Then they begin to come in crowds, eager to get out of where they’ve been hiding this entire time. You walk away, watching as they come out of every direction they can.

As the numbers multiply and grow, Steve steps forward. “Avengers!” He holds out his hand, Mjolnir flying to it. “Assemble.”

Thor shouts first, the armies following as they rush forward. Yours, not quite yet, waiting for a command. The fun thing about the dead is that there’s so many of them, people will never stop dying. Which means that when you send the ones standing off, more will continue. A never-ending supply.

“Kill them!” You shout, pointing at Thanos’s army.

This is when they move at a steady pace, not feeling the need to run. You stay where you stand, supervising the hole to ensure that a great amount comes from it, before you point straight down the middle.

“Come here, Arzorath.” The flow of dead stops to let this creature come out, five times the size of you, built like a monster. As soon as he’s out, the dead begin again. You grab his grey skin, looking up at him. “You stay here, and you make sure this doesn’t stop.”

He grunts, giving you a solid nod.

With that, you turn to walk into the fight, to the center, where Thanos is going to be. You should be afraid of walking through this crowd, but with the amount of undead that are spread throughout, they jump to protect you if any danger arises.

There’s explosions, the sounds of weapons clashing against one another. You see several laser beams shoot through the air to hit their target. There’s billows of black smoke, indicating several fires.

“Cap!” You hear Clint’s voice in your ear. “What do you want me to do with this damn thing?”

Steve grunts. “Get those stones as far away as possible!”

“No!” Bruce shouts. “We need to get ‘em back where they came from.”

“I made a promise to the Sorcerer Supreme that I’d get it back. I intend on keeping it.” You tell them.

“No way to get ‘em back. Thanos destroyed the quantum tunnel.” Tony says.

“Hold on!” You watch as Scott disappears, likely shrunken back to his regular size. “That wasn’t our only time machine.”

The sound of a horn playing Spanish music makes you turn your head.

“Anyone see an ugly brown van out there?” Steve asks.

“Yes! But you’re not gonna like where it’s parked!” Valkyrie shouts, she’s in the air, riding on a pegasus.

“Scott, how long you need to get that thing working?” Tony asks.

“Uh, maybe ten minutes.”

“Get it started. We’ll get the stones to you.” Steve says.

“We’re on it, Cap.” Hope says—Scott’s partner.

“Do you need me to clear a path for you?” You ask, “Because it won’t be that hard.”

“No, I can fly him there.” Hope tells you.

You continue through the battle, coming upon a patch where there is no one. You climb a pile of rocks, surveying the area to find Thanos, fighting Wanda. She’s got him stuck in the air, squeezing him with her magic.

That’s when the first blue light hits the ground, causing a blast, killing a dozen of your dead. It’s not only one, though, as more following, firing straight into the crowd without any prior aim. Thanos doesn’t care who he hits, as long as he doesn’t lose this fight.

You watch as the sorcerers cast shields, holding them above their heads, working together to cover a small part of the field. You don’t move for shelter, holding your stance. You glance over your shoulder to find Arzorath, still guarding the hole as you instructed him to.

“Help, somebody help!” Peter shouts.

“Hey, Queens, heads up!” Steve says back.

Mjolnir flies through the air, you can see it from where you are. You reach up, pressing the ear piece. “Anyone have eyes on Thanos?”

“He’s by the van!” Scott shouts back, “I need backup!”

You sigh out your nose, jumping down from the rocks, heading straight into the fight once again. “Arzorath!” You shout, looking over your shoulder. He raises his head. “More!”

He raises his arms, throwing them down as he grabs a chunk from the ground, ripping it out and throwing it into the crowd of Thanos’s troops. By widening the hole, it creates a bigger flow. In seconds, you see the difference, as they rush to follow you, and then past you to create a path.

The blasts from the sky become more frequent, like hail. At least half of the dead come to jump at you to protect you, bringing you to the ground. They hold you there, refusing to let you move, until it suddenly stops.

In the silence that comes after, you’re pulled to your feet. When you walk, they do too. The ship above suddenly changes its target, firing into the clouds in the distance.

“What the hell is this?” Sam asks.

It doesn’t matter, you’re able to make it halfway to the van by the time the object from the atmosphere finally makes an appearance, slamming directly through the spaceship, and coming out on the other side. It must destroy the inside, setting off explosions, as the blasters power down, and the ship begins to fall, heading for the lake.

The object in question is Carol, as she does a loop, and flies up through the bottom, coming out of the top. She lands somewhere in the field, presumably where the gauntlet must be, not too far away.

Your concern switches when Thanos’s army begins to run at you. For a moment, you think that it was a stupid choice to run out here this far. Then the sound of bones rattling, and the groaning begins behind you. You turn halfway, finding that your people have followed you all the way out here.

“Destroy them.” You say. With a layer of an undead shield in front of you, you continue forward, watching as Wanda flies past you, followed by some of the other girls. You throw your hand out, pointing their way. “They don’t get hurt!”

Valkyrie and Wanda work together to take down the two leviathans above, while you use Carol’s path of destruction as a way to get to the van faster. When the fire rises, smoke hovering like fog, you cover your mouth, refusing to slow down. But when you come out on the other side, you watch as Carol makes a dive for the van, only for Thanos’s weapon to hit the portal at the same time.

This causes a blast, throwing the weightless dead back. You fight to stay on your feet, leaning into the wind. The gauntlet glove goes flying, landing a few feet away. Thanos runs at it, causing you to jerk forward, too. Tony runs right into him, throwing him to the ground.

Thor lands, Stormbreaker glowing bright blue as he swings at Thanos. When he spins around, intending for a hard hit, Thanos grabs the handle, stopping him. He raises his free hand, and Mjolnir flies to it, acting as a block. Thor’s eyes are bright white, using the power of lightning. Steve runs up behind Thanos, jumping on his back.

Thanos headbutts Thor, reaching back to grab a hold of Steve, and somersaulting forward. When he lands on top, he punches Steve across the face, knocking him unconscious. He crawls the few feet to the glove, getting it in his hands, before Carol kicks the back of his knee, hitting his jaw,

When Thanos fights back, she dodges. She makes the mistake of trying to grab the glove, leaving an opening for Thanos to grab her. He twists, chucking her into the rock and rubble. Once again, reaching to put the gauntlet on his hand, this time succeeding.

Your stomach flies at the sight of the power coursing through his arm, as he raises his hand to snap his fingers. He almost does, until Carol gets her hand between, dragging him down to her height, trying to pull it off. He tries to punch her, but her power creates a shield that he can’t penetrate. When she flies above him, now pushing his hand toward his face, he reaches up, pulling the Power Stone free, and transferring it to his other hand.

She can’t catch herself in time, as he shouts, punching her away. She disappears, leaving a trail of kicked up dirt.

You find Tony, laying on his stomach, dirt and blood smeared across his skin. He’s not looking at you, but to a different part of the field. When you follow his gaze, you’re met with the sight of him.

It’s Stephen, in the same condition that all of you seem to be, too caught up in trying to hold the lake water at bay. Still, he manages to hold up his index finger, telling Tony one.

The confusion lasts less than a second, when you remember one of the last conversations you had together before Thanos showed up on Titan. Out of fourteen million timelines that he lived through, there was only one where you won.

You don’t want to take your eyes off of him, lips parted. The urge to call his name is on the tip of your tongue. He’s right there. He’s so close.

You’re forced to when Thanos puts the Power Stone back on the gauntlet.

You stomp your foot, hard, the dirt around you shakes. “Arzorath, come!” Pain slices through your wound at the sudden movement. “The rest of you, get him!”

They’re faster than you thought they’d be, adjusted to their worn down bodies. They begin to throw themselves at Thanos. In the beginning, he’s able to swing them off, but as the dead come out of the shadows, far through the field, the number is overwhelming. He’s just about to use the gauntlet to swing them away, when a black mist surrounds him. The screams of pain begin, as the poisonous cloud corrodes his skin.

Arzorath appears beside you, materializing out of the air. You cup your hands, watching as he dumps the stones into yours carelessly, since they have no real value to him.

The stones begin to slide over your palms without an order, adjusting to sit in their rightful places over your knuckles. You pull the Time Stone out, holding it in your free hand, not ready for the pain it’s about to inflict. You take a few deep breaths, releasing the power you hold over your army.

They fall into a useless heap of bones and rotten flesh. Thanos bursts out of it, raises his hand, still assuming the stones are on it. You look over, watching as Arzorath crumples to the ground, the life leaving him, too. You can’t afford to have any of them around. Not if you plan to do this.

“I am inevitable.” Thanos says, snapping his finger.

It doesn’t react, there is no flash of white light, the people don’t begin to fall, he fails.

You turn your head, meeting Tony’s eyes, which begin to widen when he realizes why Thanos’s snap didn’t work. “(Y/n), don’t!” He shouts. “You have Stephen! He’s here!”

“You have Morgan!” You tell him. “And I have something a lot nastier than just myself.”

Thanos’s head whips in your direction. You get down to your knees, to the ground, the same way you had to in the past. With the hand that isn’t holding the Time Stone, you press it into the dirt, leaning forward, pulling. You reach through, searching for that miserable monster that had come out four years ago when you’d done this.

This is your only chance—your only trick. It rests, slumbering, refusing to rise at your will. It isn’t until you give a little of yourself, what little dark energy you have left from conjuring so many of the dead, does it wake. And when you pull, it flies up at you, not slowing down.

You can hear Thanos running at you, shouting.

You open your eyes, slapping the Time Stone into its place on your knuckle. The energy that flows through you is different, brighter. This is not the same dark force that you’re used to. You’re able to feel the burning pain up your arm and stabbing into your neck, before it’s gone.

The beast travels through your feet and up your body, heading straight for your mouth. It sets you on fire inside, and you’re barely able to lift your hand in time to snap your fingers, when he takes over, doing it for you. You’re weightless, flying through the air, wind caressing your skin, cradling you like a newborn.

And then you hit the ground.

You roll several feet, arms blocking your face, until you stop on your back. You can see a leviathan coming right at you. And when you manage to finally get your eyes open after blinking, you find that it’s gone, nothing but dust in the wind. You let out a breath.

“(Y/n)!” Stephen’s voice is close, coming toward you.

The ground feels like it’s spinning under your body, creating a whirlpool, sucking you down with it. That would be nice, to join the ones that have kept you safe throughout this fight. Maybe you could give them a proper thank you.

There’s mechanical footsteps coming your way, when you look over, it’s Tony. His mouth is open, hands reaching for you. He’s cut off by someone else, dropping to their knees beside you.

It’s Stephen, your Stephen, as he pulls you into an upright position by your shoulders. You let out a cry, abdomen screaming in reaction. He’s got your face pulled against his chest, one arm across the back of your shoulders to keep you from moving.

“(Y/n), stay with me.” He tells you. “Stark—!”

You can’t see much through the haze, like a film over your eyes. But with Stephen’s face so close to yours, it doesn’t even matter. You throw your head back to get a proper look at him, something you’ve been waiting to do for five years. Of course, there’s a mess across his skin, a few strands of hair out of place.

You reach up with the hand that doesn’t have the stones, wiping a patch of blood away. “I’m fine.” You murmur, eyelids drooping. You begin to fall back, but Stephen catches you, pulling you back against his chest.

When you shakily breathe in, you’re hit with his cologne, a smell you’d thought you’d lost forever. You wrap your fingers around his blue robes, staring at the side of his face.

“What can we do?” He demands.

Stephen’s so beautiful, even in a state like this, especially when he’s angry. You remember that being the first thing you thought about him when he stepped out of his car, the second time he almost hit you. He’s handsome, and he’s yours, in front of you. He hasn’t aged a day. Still as perfect as he was the day he was taken from you.

“I’m okay.” You whisper, but your voice is drowned out by Friday, listing your vitals out loud.

You’re so, so tired.

Stephen jerks you, your eyes fly open. “Don’t close your eyes, (Y/n). You have to stay with me.”

You hum, trying to listen. The worried look on his face has only deepened since learning about your heart rate and blood pressure. You think you can hear Tony making suggestions, all of which Stephen shuts down.

“I just…” You close your eyes, wanting to rest. As you settle, ignoring Stephen’s demands for you to stay awake, a voice from below calls.

Brace yourself.

All you can do is twitch your eyebrows, before a sharp gasp comes through your mouth, eyes opening. Your hand grips at his robes, knuckles turning pale to keep him from going anywhere. The energy resurfaces, bouncing to your temples, a headache slams in after.

You grit your teeth, toes curled as the needles press into every inch of your skin, reminding you that you’re alive. Telling you that you’re not allowed to die. Stephen’s hand is cupping your face, leaning over you.

“I told you;” You breathe carefully, feeling it begin to subside, “I’m fine.”

Stephen smashes his lips into yours, rough and demanding. He holds you there for a long minute, feeling you on him, until he decides when to pull away. You touch the side of his face, a light laugh escaping you.

“I missed you.” You tell him, tears in your eyes. “I can’t live without you.”

“So this is what you do?” He asks, bewildered. “You sacrifice yourself?”

“It’s been a rough five years.” You sniff, reaching over to pluck the stones from your suit. “But this is what had to be done, right?”

“Right.” He says, voice sad, getting to his feet. He helps you up, and catches you when you stumble a step. When you take one toward Tony, he shakes his head. “Are you sure…?”

“Yeah.” You mumble, pulling his hand up to give him the stones. “Here.”

Tony’s standing a foot or two away, staring at you. When you stop, slightly hunched over, he closes his eyes. “You’ve got to be the dumbest person on our team. I could’ve done that.”

“And survived?” You ask.

He doesn’t say anything at first, “Probably not, but it would’ve been more thought out than that.”

“You’re telling me that wasn’t thought out?” You ask, looking back at Stephen. A smile appears on your face first, and when you begin to laugh, you have to force yourself to stop. “I think that went pretty fuckin’ well, don’t you?”

“I would’ve changed a few things.” Stephen comes over to you, “But you’re right.”

“You shouldn’t have…” Tony’s shaking his head, eyes drifting away.

“You saved my life, remember?” You ask him, voice wavering, “That day I told you I was working on a different way to bring them back? I owe you for that.”

“You didn’t.”

“I never—not even in my nightmares—would have let you take the Infinity Stones. Even if it meant that it killed me.” You press your finger to his chest. “We’re even.”

“We always have been.” He tells you.

Stephen reaches to grab you when you sway, not being able to stabilize yourself. “Let’s sit down, (Y/n).”

“Sure.” You don’t resist, letting him lead you to a slab of concrete that’s flat enough to sit down. When you do, the aches in your body leave, you take in a deep breath. “Stephen?”

“Yes, my love?” His eyes are already on you.

You take his hand, lacing his fingers with yours. “I love you.”

He smiles, tilting his head slightly. “I love you too, (Y/n).”

#ilguna #stephen strange imagine #stephen strange oneshot #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange fanfic #stephen strange x you #strephen strange x yn #stephen strange x y/n #doctor strange imagine #doctor strange oneshot #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange fanfic #doctor strange x you #doctor strange x yn #doctor strange x y/n #marvel #angst #fluff

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stupidthoughtsinwriting · 14 days

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Glimpse of Us

Summary: Years after the faithful night, reality brings the two back together, with all the years of unresolved pain, feelings and comparisons

Warning: Angst is all the warning I can think off ehehhe, Hard core Angst

Note: ehehehehe the long awaited sequel to She use to be mine is finally here! After what? nearly 2 years. its finally here! I'm so sorry for the long wait and thank you to those who encouraged me to continue on with the next part. I won't dawdle on and let you lot enjoy the concoction i seem to have mustered on. ehehe again sorry for the months delay.

oh and i almost forgot, the italics are best imagined as her singing

P.S. I drafted this post 7 or 8 months after the first part and dear god, how time has passed. Looking back at the story, I'm not really too proud of this one and ended it because I really have no idea how to continue it. I have an idea for a next part (dangerous words coming from me) but I'm not gonna set a date for when I post it because we all know how the last part turned out. Anyways enjoy

😊❤️💛💚💙💜🖤😊 -T

‘Hey, you’re up in five’`

‘Yah sure, just touching up’ you say as you smacked your lips after applying a bit of lip gloss.

‘You don’t need it’ he replied.

‘Still. I can’t believe I agreed to this’ you scoffed, fiddling with your hair for the hundredth time.

‘You’ll do great’ he smiled ‘Now your hair is fine, you look amazing, and I have to go. Break a leg’ he bid before getting on stage to rouse the crowd. Admittedly, you are nervous. You wouldn’t call yourself a singer, but you do have a good enough voice and can hold a tune. You knew it was a mistake singing in front of Harvey and you were only doing this as a favor. God. You checked the mirror one last time before finding it was good enough.

‘Now for tonight’s performance, A very dear friend of mine has agreed to perform tonight, though with a little bit of persuasion.’ Harvey mumbled the last part, getting a laugh from the crowd and a chuckle from yourself ‘She has a voice made by the gods above, though I don’t remember Thor being much of a singer. She can lure you in better than a siren, but I think that’s the other mythology’ he said cheekily.

‘Now, without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome a dear friend of mine, Y/N Y/L/N!’ he introduced, that being your cue to emerge from the curtain, you stepped on staged and made your way over to the middle where he and the mic was, the spotlight following your movement. You waved and smiled at the crowd, glad there wasn’t much. Grasping the mic, you chuckled as the small crowd continued to clap.

‘Hi everybody’ you began, getting a hello in response from the crowd ‘Wow, thank you for the warm welcome and thank you Harvey for that unrealistic introduction’ you chuckled with the crowd, turning to Harvey who waved you off.

‘Now, taking something off of Harvey’s speech, I am made by no god or am one. Nor am I a siren from the Greek mythology. It did take some persuading to get me to do this and hopefully I don’t regret it.’ You laughed sheepishly.

‘I don’t normally sing on stage or in public really unless it’s karaoke with friends, which by the way is how I got tricked into doing this, so pardon me if I seem a bit nervous’ you smile shyly. Glancing back at Harvey, with a smile on his face, he nodded, pushing you to continue. Pulling out the rest of the confidence you still had stored, you turned back beaming at the crowd.

‘Now to not keep you waiting any longer, Paul if you will’ you gestured to the man on the piano and he nods before gliding his fingers along the keys, playing the start of the song. Letting out a breath, you closed your eyes, feeling the rhythm of the piano before singing the lyrics. Grabbing hold of the mic, you opened your eyes and began.

He'd take the world off my shoulders

If it was ever hard to move

He'd turn the rain to a rainbow

When I was living in the blue

You let your eyes flutter to a close as you gripped the mic firmly. Swaying your body occasionally to melody.

Why then if he is so perfect

Do I still wish that it was you?

Perfect don't mean that it's working

So what can I do? Ooh

Opening your eyes, you scanned the crowd, completely surprised by how the much you can see of the crowd seemed entranced.

When you’re out of sight

You saw you’re your friends in a booth over on the corner, the people entering the establishment.

In my mind

Then the bar where you found him, staring at you. You locked eyes with those beautiful ocean blue orbs that you love loved so much. Stumbling over your words, you nearly forgot about the song but once the piano keys hit the right note, your lips continued in autopilot.

Cause sometimes I look… in his eyes

And that's where I find

A glimpse of us

Eyes leaving contact, you scanned his entirety. The grey streaks at his temples have grown longer since the last time you saw him. The old clean-shaven face he used to don had a goatee. Prominent lines and creases were evident in his features and really the years have aged him well. He wore a suit, complete with a vest, a red handkerchief in the breast pocket and everything. A glass of whiskey at his side and he was still as handsome as the day you left.

You closed your eyes once more, willing this to just be another trick or hallucination by your imagination. Though it was a horrid idea as memories of the day came back crashing onto you, you let them stay shut as you continued.

And I try to fall for his touch

But I'm thinking of the way it was

There you stood, as beautiful as the day he met you, if not more. In all your beauty, and the signature grin you adorned, you were radiant. Though the spotlight might have something to do with it, you were still a ray of sunshine through the darkest of clouds.

The rest of the world faded out to him and his mind finally faltered. There you were. Standing a few feet away as you introduced yourself. Your hair’s cut short, or at least shorter than the last time he’d seen you. Earrings hid behind your curls and the lightest bit of make-up was applied to your soft features. Though that didn’t hide the blossoming pink tint gracing your cheeks. Your lips glistened with the lip gloss you had on just like you use to. Smile lines drew at the corner of your eyes as you chuckled over your own words, explaining how you ended up in your current situation.

You always smiled, even when you were feeling down, you always smiled. Whether to hide what you were truly feeling or to just be nice to people, you always smiled. He nearly forgot how beautiful that smile was, with only his dreams used to recall that charming grin, since it has been a rarity for him to look you up or even open the box full of pictures during your years together. Even with the picture he kept in his nightstand, he rarely opened the drawer. Funny how this photographic memory of his nearly forgot the most beautiful piece of art he’s ever seen.

He listened to every single word you uttered as he looked and committed every single detail he could of you to memory. Your hair curled into soft waves, parted and pinned on one side. Your frame, fuller since the last time he saw your thin, nearly skeletal figure on that fateful night. You wore a wine-red wrap top that reached down to your wrists, paired with simple jeans and boots, you looked divine. The dip in the neckline of your shirt revealed the top of your cleavage but the gleaming gold necklace is what caught his attention. It was a simple gold bar plate though engraved with a heartbeat on one side. Common and a bit of a cliché now adays but what was special about that was it was an actual heartbeat. His. He gifted it to you when you both got accepted at Metro General. He explained that it was how his heart beat whenever he thought of you. As you tried to find the words to thank him, he made you turn it over to the other side to another engraving. You know I love you so, it said. A line from one of your favorite songs. He remembered how tears brimmed your eyes as you leaped to him, capturing his lip with yours.

What came as a shock to him now was that you were still wearing it. As he continued to look you over, the sound of your chuckle registered in his ears. God, he loves that sound. A sound he hasn’t heard long before you left. Looking back up to your face, he sees the girl he met all those years ago, buried under piles of books in the library on campus. The very same girl that chuckled at his horrible attempt at a flirtatious first introduction. A small smile tugged at his lips both at the memory and the sound. He hasn’t heard that sound in so long, it was a wonder when he heard it last. He just knew it was long before he fucked up and just chose to relish in the sweet sound now.

Now focusing and giving his undivided attention to your voice now, he listened.

‘I don’t normally sing on stage or in public really unless it’s karaoke with friends, which by the way is how I got tricked into doing this, so pardon me if I seem a bit nervous’ you laugh timidly. A chuckle bubbled at his throat as flashes of you singing whilst cooking in the kitchen of your tiny apartment came into view. Wearing nothing but his shirt as you flipped pancakes, singing from Coldplay to Queen at the top of your lungs or humming to Ed Sheeran whilst you worked and studied case filles.

He knew you enough to know that you were nervous, you didn’t have to say it. After all these years he still knew you better than the back of his scarred hands, heck better than he knows himself.

He saw you look to the side and his eyes followed, landing on the host from earlier. With a smile on his face, he nodded, giving you the reassurance you needed to continue with your performance. And it did, he saw how you pulled the last of your confidence before turning back to the crowd.

A pang of jealousy shot through him as he watched. I mean what did he expect, for you to be alone after all these years. A stupidly selfish part of him even hoped that you’d be waiting for him. To get his act together and you’d be back together. It was incredibly stupid; he knew that but that didn’t stop the creeping grip of jealousy from grasping his heart. As much as he knew how selfish the thought is, that didn’t stop the pain and hurt he felt seeing you look for reassurance in another man. Even after all these years.

The smile he had drawn up earlier had faded to a look of melancholy. It was good you had someone, he thought. Someone to be there for whenever you needed them the most, unlike him.

He watched as you turned and gestured to the pianist who nodded and started to fiddle with the keys. He watched as you took a breath, closed your eyes and began to sway to the smooth melody of the music. A small grin was itching at your lips. You were always more comfortable whenever listening to music and this was evident, unbeknownst to you.

Then you started to sing. You opened your eyes, took a firm grip at the mic and the lyrics just came dripping smoothly from your lips. That melodic voice of yours that he loves so much reminded him of the early mornings in the kitchen, the concerts in the shower and the lullabies to the kids under your care. Little did you know but the sound of your sweet voice always comforted him during the hardest times. He didn’t ask you to sing directly but he always listened whenever you hummed a simple tune or sang a song from some Disney movie to calm the kids in peds ward.

He took in every word that came from your lips. From what he’s heard so far from the first verse, it was about how the man lightened and took away the burden and sorrows the singer felt. The way you sang the song, it was beautiful. It was as if you were truly meaning the words that left your lips and he couldn’t help but feel the envy creeping back up at him, though at the same time, he’s conflicted with relief. He didn’t know if you’ve had someone during the past couple of years but as hurt as he is at the prospect of you with somebody else, it sort of gave him a sense of comfort thinking that you were getting taken care off. It eased some of the weight he felt and often times he thought maybe it was good that you separated. All he'd done with you the last few months of your relationship was hurt and neglect you and if you ever found someone that remedied that, maybe it was for the best that you left.

He watched your eyes flutter to a close again. The way your body moved to the melody of the music completely hypnotized him that his drink was deemed long forgotten.

Why then if he is so perfect, Do I still wish that it was you?

At those words, for some reason that gave him hope. He didn’t know if it was just the song but really, just the way you sang it made it seem all too genuine. He still loves you; he knew that very well. He also knows that he had a better chance in coming up with a new strategy in defeating Thanos (despite the many but one failed attempts he saw using the time stone), than ever getting back in a relationship with you.

You are the most kind, caring and understanding person he knew but you were also stubborn. He might have the chance in getting to apologize and to ask for forgiveness, but a relationship was a billion to one cosmic fluke. Though that didn’t stop him from wondering if you meant those words.

You opened your eyes and continued with the song. He noticed you looking at the growing mass of people watching. From the corner booths to the door, he knew from that growing look at your face that you were surprised to say the least at how many were captivated by your performance.

Then you met his gaze. Those soft blues meeting that beautiful shade of your own eyes. God, how much he loved those shining y/e/c orbs could never be put into words. How they twinkle in the light. The comfort and understanding they held and how they always seem to know he felt.

When he woke up from the crash, the first thing he longed to find were your eyes. The warmth, comfort and security they held, he ached to see those beautiful orbs because for the briefest moments he forgot everything but you. You were his main thought. He forgot about the fight, the neglectful months before, the pale, emaciated figure of yours that haunts his dreams, everything. Only the kind, gorgeous face of the woman he fell for all those years ago stayed in his mind because whenever he thought of comfort, the only thing that formed in his head was, no… is you.

He was hurt, in pain, his body ached, he could barely see let alone open his eyes. He needed comfort, he needed you. But when was life ever nice.

Instead, he was met with the fluorescent lights of the hospital room and the horrific sight of the mangled hands that once led a successful career in medicine. There was no warming gaze to be greeted with, only the sad sympathetic ones he now knows to be from the wrong woman and a cold, sterile room.

Cause sometimes I look… in his eyes

You stumbled over your words as you continued to look at each other. You continued singing but your eyes were locked together. Neither of you could look away. Your mouth moved on autopilot as your eyes lost the spark of a flame you had earlier, just like that night all those years ago, replaced by a reflection of the pain and grief he caused. The very same one that haunts his dreams.

A glimpse of us

You finished, your voice fading as the lyrics came to an end. As soon as the piano tuned out, you smiled and gave a little bow at the crowd who erupted in applause before leaving the stage in a hurry. Welled up tears spilled down warm cheeks as emotions and memories continued to riot your mind. After all these years he still managed to make you cry. Why can’t you move on?

You were quick on getting your belongings from the small prep area behind the stage however your plans of a speedy getaway were quickly ousted by the very same gentleman that perpetrated this whole ordeal.

‘You were amazing! The emotion you put in the performance…’ He continued to ramble on, looking past the curtain and to the roaring crowd cheering on for an encore, completely oblivious of his friend’s distraught state. ‘I mean the teary eyes, come on. Doctoring ever not work for you, acting could be something to con…’ he paused after finally getting a glimpse of you, swiftly wiping away tear streaks that ran down your cheeks but the growing redness in your eyes were dead give aways. ‘Shit’ finally piecing things together, he cursed, his attention fully set on you now. ‘It was real. Fuck, are you okay?’ he asked, finding it difficult figuring out what to do, yet a hint of urgency too as he still had to go back on stage.

‘Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.’ You swallowed, lying through your teeth. ‘I just… have to go’ you mumbled quickly, giving him a grin in hopes to resemble something as composed as the friend he knew. Though he knew you enough to know you were not ‘fine’, with great reluctance he let you go, rushing to the stage shortly after exchanging goodbyes and promising to check with him later.

As your friend went back on stage, you quickly took a survey of your appearance on a nearby mirror, making sure you didn’t look as dreadful as you felt. The bit of makeup you had on survived, however your eyes weren’t as forgiving being red. Nevertheless, you sped out to leave.

Considering your options, your only available exits were the front or back door and wanting to avoid individual who has left you in this state (just by being present), you turned to the corridor that lead to the back door but as unfortunate as you were, the exit was blocked by men hauling in delivery shipments and by the looks of things they weren’t going to be done any time soon.

You were antsy enough as it was and waiting by the second for them just added to your agitation. You really needed to leave now. A lump was lodging itself on your throat and the air around you seemed to be thinning. You need to leave NOW.

Swallowing all the anxieties you had, you had no choice but to rush out the front. You stayed on the side, avoiding the patrons and the one in particular perched up at the bar but unlucky you (your luck really seemed to have vanished really), the man saw your abrupt departure, unbeknownst to you.

You made it out to the street and the open air was a fresh welcome, letting you finally breath, whereas the establishment you had left felt suffocating.

You thought it was done. That the lump in your throat would finally dissolve as you walked down the street, thinking that you had successfully avoided the now famed sorcerer of New York. The hero, Doctor Strange…

but when was life ever good to you.

‘y/n…’ he breathed out, catching the sight of you sprinting toward the doors he entered only moments before. It pulled him out of his reverie, wondering if he should talk to you, what he’d talk to you about, an apology perhaps, contemplation of your years together, however the sight of you pulled him out like it always did, especially in the beginning. He sometimes had the tendency to be too deep in thought, he’d ignore everything and everyone in his surroundings, but he always caught you. Your scent, your voice, let alone your image, it always drew him from his stupor.

Now the sight of you cemented his thoughts.

Downing the last of his drink, he pulled a bill from his wallet and slammed it down the counter without so much as a look onto how much it was before he scurried out, chasing after you. (Like he should have done all those years ago)

He called out your name once he reached the sidewalk, turning left and right in search for you. The street wasn’t crowded much so it was easy to spot the figure stood still a few yards away to his right. With the last few rays of the dying sun and dim streetlight, he made out the curled head of hair the same shade as yours the figure had, and he just knew it was you.

‘Y/N!’ he nearly shouted, causing a few heads to turn in his direction but not yours. You kept your back to him as he sprinted your way. He knew you heard him. You would have kept on walking had you not.

It only took a second to reach you and when he did, he hesitated, not knowing what to do. He wanted to reach for you and plead for forgiveness. On his knees if he had to. Instead, he opted for another call for your name, hoping you’d finally face him.

And you did, after dropping your hands to your side, he heard a small sniff before you turned to him with your gorgeous smile and said (in a somewhat forced cheer in your voice)

‘Stephen. Hi’

‘Hi’ he replied densely. You idiot, he thought at how stupid his response was.

A silence fell over you both as Stephen canvassed your entirety now at a closer distance. He took in every graceful line, freckle and strand of hair he saw to memory. Every little detail he took in was as important as every breath he took. How bloodshot your eyes were didn’t go unnoticed though. Puffy around the eyelids from crying, red possibly from -he guessed- how hard you were rubbing them just before he reached you.

Surprising thing is, it still broke his heart seeing the distress you so clearly were trying to hide. The thought of tears running down your cheeks, was illegal. They had no business in gracing your face yet, he can’t help but realize that he just keeps being the reason you were left in that state. Where were all these sympathies back then? He asked himself, the very night flashing through his mind.

‘Stephen’ you said again, taking him out of head again. He missed that though. His name coming off your lips. It brought him back to all the mornings with you in bed, tangled in sheets as the morning glory woke you up and you woke him up with that honey sweet voice with the say of his name. Stephen

‘Sorry, um…’ he coughed, trying to piece a sentence, words, anything really that didn’t end in three syllables.

‘You were wonderful’ he finally managed, okay that’s five ‘Back there at the bar…. you were amazing’ like always, he wanted to add but stopped himself, pointing back to where he just left.

‘Thank you’ you muttered, nodding your head before leaving it down to look at your shoes. The way you responded lacked any sort of confidence, as if you didn’t believe his words or yourself. Truthfully, you were never really the most confident, even back then but always did step up when the situation needed. Either that’s the reason or you didn’t believe him, which considering his case, why should you.

Your hands were fidgeting, he noticed. Running and marking the bones of one hand with your fingers tips before your nails would start to pick on skin. This was something new to him. A new nervous habit of yours he hadn’t known before, so it was most likely picked up after your separation.

The person in front of him wasn’t the same one he knew all those years ago yet, still so similar and the same. He remembers everything about you, so if anything of the woman he knew back then was still in there, he knew by how you were acting that you were uncomfortable, agitated.

‘Really, you were amazing’ he affirmed, really wanting you to believe him, or at least to believe how wonderful you really are. ‘Truly, but are you okay?’

He’d done it. Ask that stupid question and that’s what broke the dam, causing the river to run past it with no mercy.

He heard a laugh at first, your hand raising towards your face. The sound bordered on maniacal, nothing like the one he loved but familiar enough to know he has heard it before. Slowly, your head rose, your hand half covering your mouth, half wiping away the rivers that flowed down your cheeks. The sight finally triggered the memory he was looking for. It was all too similar to that night, it felt like déjà vu.

‘um’ you started, finally managing to say after that little fit ‘I could lie but what’s the point? No. I’m not. I’m not okay because you’re here. Fuck, I actually thought that I could get away from this but no, evidently not.’ You tried to reason, looking him straight in the eyes ‘Christ Stephen, I was okay. I was okay when I was singing, I was okay ten minutes ago but then you just came out of no where and now I’m not okay. I’m never okay whenever it comes to you. Not anymore.’ You spit like venom, unrelenting in your streak to get out all your pain because of him. ‘I thought I could be civil but… I-I’m tired. I’m sorry, I’m gonna go. Enjoy your night’ you hurried, saying your goodbyes and turning your back to him to walk away. You would have gone had he not called you back in such a pleading tone.

‘please’ he begs and for some reason and it compels you to listen. You halt your steps, you don’t turn around, but you do wipe away your tears and he takes that as his chance to apologize for everything.

‘I’m sorry.’ He starts, his own eyes teary ‘I’m sorry for everything. You didn’t deserve what I did to you and it…’ he swallows that lump in his throat, trying to get the rest of his words out ‘it haunts me every day. You’re the kindest person I know, and I took you for granted. I was an arrogant piece of shit, too self-absorbed to even notice that the woman I love was working herself to death.’ You start to turn around ’You were the purest thing I knew and you didn’t deserve the monster I was. And I am so sorry for who I was then. I’ve changed or I’m trying to change, to be better than- than that monster that hurt you and I could only hope for your forgiveness because, you were always someone I never wanted to lose, and I did. By a stupid mistake and horrible decisions.’ His tears start to run, and you finally face him ‘I never wanted to let you go but I was hurting you more than I was loving you and I understand if I don’t get your forgiveness but, I am sorry. I am so sorry for hurting you. For taking you for granted. For not treating you how you deserved to be treated. For everything. You didn’t deserve what I did to you and hearing myself admit this… really just proves I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I need you to know that I am sorry. I’m really sorry for what I did and that… that you deserve.’

You stare at him with tears running down both your eyes and he sees the same urge to wipe them away, in you. The hesitant twitch of your arm as if by instinct, to move and act on the need to clear away his tears and comfort him. At least that’s what he interprets the move of your arm because that’s exactly what you would have done, that’s exactly your character and he wants to do the same. To dry away your tears and take you in his arms in respite.

But you act against those thoughts, only balling your fist as some form of control. You stare into him, as if gauging to find the lie in his words yet there is none and he sees something in your eyes that he can’t explain before they dart away. He watches as you scan your surroundings, looking at the people likely to be watching you both but he didn’t care for them. He only cared about you.

When your eyes turned back to him, you closed them immediately, face scrunching as you desperately tried to hold back to tears but to him, it was as if you were so pained by the mere sight of him. He’d be lying if he said that it didn’t chip away a piece of his heart.

Your head bowed for a bit as you tried to compose yourself but the words that left your lips once you rose again, only broke more of his heart.

‘You’re forgiven’ you were quick to say before turning back and walking away from him. He watched with wet cheeks, as you sped away from him, and he kept his gaze on you until you disappeared around the corner and then you were gone.

For what seemed like forever, he kept his eyes on that street corner, hoping for something that won’t happen. He knew that whatever he wanted wasn’t going to happen, but a man could hope, right? Though hopes are as easy to diminish as they are to ignite. Grief and disappointment, they tend to last.

The sun had set and streetlights and buildings are all that lit the side walk where Stephen stood. A man well known to the people and thus, there were those who were bound to watch the spectacle put on by the hero. Small crowds had formed over time as they watched the powerful sorcerer confess to the dreadful things he’s done to some doctor from before his fame, asking for forgiveness to all the terrible things he’s done.

To new passersby, they’d wonder why a hero of the city stood so stiff, looking at oblivion. They’d wonder for a minute without context before walking away with a shrug, figuring much more important things to think of.

Eventually, the crowd thinned to a trickle, til the lone man was all that remained the lone street, wondering what he had done to deserve you.

A/U: I've read this way too much to do a final proof read so sorry for all the grammatical mistakes and spellings and all that. Thanks for the read though

I'm hoping that the people who asked to be tagged don't mind me tagging them this late in the game and I hope you liked it. Hopefully it was worth the wait @strangesweetheart @evelynrosestuff @vesta-ro @doodle-cat16 @nabiilahadid @evansmusk @circe143 @dracoflaco

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classickook · 2 years

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coffee for two | stephen strange

pariring: surgeon!stephen strange x fem!reader

summary: doctor stephen strange takes a sudden interest in the new barista on the first floor of the hospital.

warnings: none just fluff!

word count: 0.9k

a/n: this idea has been floating around in my head all day so here it is! my little contribution to neurosurgeon strange content <3

doctor stephen strange had never been a major coffee connoisseur nor had he ever made it a part of his daily routine to stop at a coffee shop every morning for an overpriced cup of simple coffee that he could easily get from the break room, let alone something as sugary sweet and full of milk that he’s seen the nurses upstairs carrying in trays and passing out to the others. but once he caught a glimpse of the new barista behind the counter, he thought he would give the overpriced coffee a try just to get a closer look at the pretty little thing with the brilliant smile and bright eyes.

as he approached the counter, you quickly perked up and offered a kind smile as if you haven’t caught wind of his less than pleasant personality and arrogant air about him that the other employees continuously gossiped about.

“good morning!” you greeted brightly. “what can i get for you today?”

he couldn’t help but return your smile, too lovely and contagious to be ignored. “what do you recommend?”

“well, that all depends on whether you lean more towards sweet or bitter, but personally, i usually go for the brown sugar shaken espresso.”

“great, i’ll get one of those and an iced americano.”

“excellent choice,” you said with a nod. “i’ll get that started for you. what’s the name for your order?”

“it’s strange.”

you had a bewildered look upon your face as you pondered his statement. “surely it’s not that strange of a name. i’ve heard just about everything.”

he choked back a laugh at the misunderstanding, having heard it more times than he could count. “no, sweetheart,” he said gently. “my name is strange. doctor strange.”

your eyes widened. “oh, my mistake! sorry about that,” you said, gaze lowering to the two cups in your hand as you wrote out his name, embarrassment written all over your features.

“it’s all right. happens all the time,” he said, handing you his black amex card and watching as you swiped it through the machine and typed away on the screen before passing it back to him, your fingers lightly brushing against his and sending a jolt of warmth through him that felt like he had been dipped in sunlight.

he returned the card to his wallet and accepted the iced americano from you, leaving the other drink on the counter. “have a nice day,” he said pleasantly and then glanced down at your name tag, “y/n,” he added, loving how the syllables tasted on his tongue, before making his way back to the stairwell that led to the clinical floor.

“wait,” you called out. “you forgot your other drink.”

he turned back to you, walking backwards while keeping his eyes on you. “that one’s for you, sweetheart,” and shot you a wink, feeling a wave of pleasure snake through him at seeing the way your face lit up in pure surprise and elation at his unexpected gift.

and so the routine continued, every day for two weeks, he stopped by the little coffee shop to place his usual order: an iced americano for him and a brown sugar shaken espresso for you.

in that amount of time, he had learned that you had the sweetest disposition and a killer sense of humor, easily keeping up with him and his wry jokes. he also learned that you were still in college, barely making ends meet as you were in the final stretch of earning your master’s degree, working early shifts during the day that nobody else wanted and taking classes at night.

“what time do you get off?” he asked you one morning.

you seemed unfazed by the sudden inquiry, undoubtedly used to his daily questions by now. “five o’clock.”

“perfect. i’ll be done with my rounds by then. why don’t i take you to dinner?”

“oh,” was all you said.

he chuckled. “is that all right? or would you rather get a coffee? preferably one that you didn’t have to make,” he added.

a crease formed between your brows, your face twisted in confusion. “really? are you sure?”

“why wouldn’t i be?”

“you just… don’t seem like the type who would go for underpaid, average-looking baristas slash college students.”

“who said you were average-looking?”

you bit your lip. “well, nobody. but… i’m not really dressed for dinner,” you said, looking down disapprovingly at your uniform.

his lips quirked up on one side. “neither am i, sweetheart,” he replied, referring to his dark blue scrubs, “but we’ll make it work. can i pick you up here once your shift is over?”

you nodded and offered him a shy smile, something he was becoming comfortably familiar with, loving how you quickly looked away before peeking up at him beneath your lashes.

god, he was already so smitten with you. how did that happen? the effect you had on him was unlike any other, so sweet and so endearing, it felt like sugary syrup had replaced the blood that ran through his veins.

“okay, doctor strange.”

“stephen is fine,” he corrected. “you can call me stephen. i’ll be back at five o’clock, okay?”

“okay,” you replied softly, “stephen.”

he loved the way his name sounded on your lips, craving to hear it again and again.

“enjoy your coffee,” he said in parting, tilting his head toward the coffee he bought for you before climbing up the steps to get to his rounds, hoping the day would slip by quickly so he could see you again.

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ironstrange1991 · 15 days

Text

You're My Comfort

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: The reader has a bad day at work and Stephen comes to take care of her.

Word Cont: 2,1k

Warnings: None, just fluff.

A/N: I am still struggling with authors block, but I'm happy for finishing this little something. It's not much, but I was in need of a comfort fic. Hope your guys like it and have a good read.

You arrived from work without even realizing how you managed to drive home. Stephen was busy talking to some Avengers in the living room and you just walked past them up the stairs and straight to your shared room.

You were too tired to even get undressed even though you knew you would feel better after a shower, but still all you could do was kick off your shoes and fall face down on the bed letting a wave of silent crying take over you.

You were tired of your job, tired of the way your boss seemed to suck out your soul along with all your energy, but at the same time you felt bad for feeling that way. After all, you should be grateful to have a job in the first place, or at least you should be grateful that your job doesn't put you in danger or be as physically draining as Stephen's. You lost count of how many times he came home injured and yet he never complained. You on the other hand, seemed like a crying little girl and thinking that way only made you feel even worse and it was a vicious cycle that you couldn't get out of. Feeling bad about feeling bad and so on.

You were still face down, tears silently streaming down your face, when you heard the soft creak of the door opening and closing and the muffled sound of boots on the floor announcing the approaching footsteps. You immediately turned your face away because you didn't want Stephen to notice you were crying and then you felt the mattress dipping.

He touched your arm gently.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" His baritone voice held a note of concern.

You didn't answer, you just shrugged your shoulders like you did when you were a child and your mother asked why you were crying. Many times you didn't even know why you were crying, but you cried anyway and that was exactly how you felt today.

You felt his hand on your head stroking your hair gently and before he could say anything, you crawled closer to him and laid your head on his lap wrapping your arms around his waist. He seemed to like it because his body shook with what you thought was a small laugh. Contrary to what your irrational side told you, Stephen didn't care about your anxiety crisis or those moments where you couldn't say exactly what was happening. He was already used to dealing with your fluctuating moods.

"Can you at least tell me you're okay, so I don't worry?" He asked and you nodded.

"You're okay then. Nothing bad happened?" He insisted and you nodded again.

"Good." He continued stroking your hair in silence.

"I know I've been working a lot these last few days, but if that's what's making you upset..."

"It's not that." You replied with a choked voice. Of course he would find a way to blame himself. When Stephen learned to be less selfish and egocentric, he simply turned completely the other way and became extremely altruistic, which you didn't like, much less approve of.

"Then talk to me, sweetheart. I don't like seeing you like this." His hand had now gone down to the middle of your back, playing with the strands of your hair.

"I'm just tired, I guess."

He sighed "You think so? Y/n you've been working non-stop for the last few weeks."

"There was nothing else to do. You weren't here most of the time and the company needed me."

You can almost see Stephen's eyes rolling back in his head. "They like to take advantage of you, that's what. You're too good for them."

You did not answer. You knew he was right, but you didn't want to give in. He returned his hands to your head and began to caress your scalp with his fingertips lightly and you let out an involuntary groan.

"Feels good, uh?" You could hear the smirk in his voice. Always so proud that he managed to turn you into a puddle of goo whenever he touched you.

"I'm exhausted. I need to sleep. I barely slept at all last night." You confessed to what he vehemently rebuked.

"You know I don't like seeing you in this state. You need to take better care of yourself."

You shook your head. "Right now I don't think I can take care of myself at all. I'm too tired."

He chuckled, surrendering to your charm and drama.

"Do you want me to run a bath for you or would you prefer the shower?"

He asked, already running his fingers through your hair to get it out of your face. He did his best to tie them into a bun.

"You will stay with me?"

"If you want. But you know where this is going to take us, don't you?"

You denied "No funny business tonight. I'm too tired."

He hummed "As you wish, love. Come."

He patted your shoulder for you to allow him to stand up and extended his arms to help you up.

"Too tired to walk." You grumbled and he let out a small laugh.

"Come on. I'll carry you, little girl."

You found somewhere within you the strength to smile and tease him, "Yes, daddy."

He scoffed, but picked you up bride style and took you to the bathroom. He sat you on the toilet and ordered "Raise your arms. Let's take these clothes off."

You obeyed and let yourself be undressed by him slowly. It was different. Although he was used to ripping off your clothes and fucking you senseless, in that moment he was actually being gentle and there was nothing in his eyes but affection.

"Get up so we can take off that skirt." He asked and you did as he ordered. He took off your panties too, leaving you completely naked for him. A light shade of red tinting your cheeks.

"Bathtub or shower?" He asked to be sure and added it right after. "There's no way I'm leaving your side."

You nodded "Bathtub. With lavender and bubbles. Lots of bubbles."

He nodded, but instead of doing the whole process like a normal person, he moved his fingers and the bathtub filled with hot water. With a smirk he snapped his fingers and the water turned lilac and your nostrils were invaded by the delicious smell of lavender as you watched the water fill with foam. "As you wish, madam. Come."

He gave you his hand and helped you get into the tub, and you moaned contentedly with the feeling of the hot water surrounding your body.

He quickly undressed in front of you and that was a sight you would never get used to. Your eyes devoured every inch of his body before he entered the bathtub and sat right behind you.

He moaned softly as well letting the hot water relax him completely.

"Christ, I needed this." He confessed and you leaned your back against his chest feeling yourself being hugged by his strong arms and you leaned your head back letting your eyes close for a minute.

"What a shitty day I had" You blurted out, earning a small laugh from Stephen.

"It is not funny"

He buried his face in your hair, "I know. Want to tell me about it?"

You sighed, "Nothing out of the ordinary happened. I think I'm just tired of that environment, those people. Of doing the work of two or three and not getting any recognition for it. I'm tired of leaving that place feeling empty as if I had left my soul there."

Stephen listened in silence. He was good at that, at listening silently and letting you vent. It was one of his many qualities.

"And I feel bad for feeling this way. It feels like I'm being ungrateful. I know I should be grateful for being in a job in the first place, but I can't feel grateful right now and on top of that I feel silly complaining about my silly problems when you have to deal with so much..."

"Hey, don't do that!" Stephen scolded you. "Don't belittle your problems by comparing them to the things I do. It's not fair. Your feelings are valid, sweetheart and there's nothing wrong with feeling the way you're feeling right now. We just need to think of a way to make it better because I've noticed that this days when your come home like this have become more constant. You're always too tired and sad and I don't like seeing you like that."

You sighed feeling his lips on your neck and your skin prickling.

"I think I just need to stop thinking for a few minutes. My mind is my worst enemy, you know. The more I think the worse I feel."

Stephen hummed and continued placing kisses on your neck "I can help with that." His hands went down to your breasts, caressing them lightly.

"I said no funny business." You scolded him and he giggled softly and you felt him conjure up a soft sponge still under the water and started rubbing your back and neck with it. You can't stop a little moan from escaping your lips.

"I don't deserve you, Steph." You confessed to what he hummed, using the sponge to rub your arms, your belly, your thighs, every place he could reach.

"I usually think the same thing when you take care of me."

"Guess we don't deserve each other then." You teased.

"Or we were made for each other. I like this option better."

"Because you're a romantic. You want to be tough, but deep down you're soft, Stephen."

He let out an incredulous laugh "I've been called many things, but romantic is the first time."

You smiled, keeping your eyes closed and reveling in the touch of his hands when he puts down the sponge and started massaging your shoulders gently. His hand was shaking, but you even liked that feeling.

"You're different with me." You insisted. "I watch you with everyone else and you're different when you're with me, sweeter and more affectionate."

He hummed petulantly. "You didn't expect me to treat Stark and Wong the way I treat my girlfriend, right?"

"It's not that. I just think you allow yourself to be your most natural self when you're with me and I like that."

"I like it too." He agreed kissing the back of your neck.

The two of you were silent for a few minutes, his hands continued massaging your shoulders lightly and although he couldn't put too much pressure on the act, it was enough to relax you. The sound of cars passing on the street occasionally broke the silence of the Sanctum, as well as the sound of the water that was slowly cooling and his calm and steady breathing.

Eventually your eyes started to get heavy and Stephen must have felt the way you let the weight of your body rest on his because he wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed the top of your head.

"Are you feeling better?" He asked genuinely worried.

You hummed positively and he sighed looking relieved.

"Good. Now I think we can finish here and go straight to bed, what do you think?"

You didn't have time to respond because your stomach growled embarrassingly loud to which Stephen let out a small laugh.

"Food first, then. Come." He asked and the two of you got out of the tub.

When you finished getting dressed, Stephen in just pajama pants and you in a nightgown, you ran to get under the covers and get comfortable.

"I'll get you something to eat. How about a sandwich?"

You nodded and then asked "What did you have for dinner?"

He shook his head "To be honest, I didn’t even remember to eat. It was a pretty busy afternoon."

You scolded him with a look, "Then I guess you can bring sandwiches for both of us."

Stephen nodded.

He came back a few minutes later with a plate with some sandwiches cut in halves, which you quickly devoured. When you both finished, neither of you was willing to get up, so Stephen just placed the plate on the bedside table and adjusted himself on the pillows, letting you lay on his chest.

"I know I've said this before, but you're so good to me, Steph."

He sighed, stroking your arm gently.

"I love you." You said, closing your eyes and feeling the tiredness of the day overwhelm you.

Stephen placed a kiss on the top of her head. "Taking care of you is what I love doing most, sweetheart. I love you. You have no idea how much."

You hummed softly "Yes I do because I love you just the same."

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing ;)

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vickiee-mcmuffin · 6 months

Text

It's always been you

Word count: 3.8k

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Female Reader

Trope: Explicit Smut, Age gap (18+ Warning, Minors DNI)

A/N: Here's one of my old fics which is one of my favs. I've added some extra bits to the smut, so enjoy ;)

Summary: You're in a relationship with a guy called Luke after you were too scared to tell Stephen how you really felt about him. But one night, one thing leads to another when you go and talk to Stephen at the Sanctum.

When you first arrived at Kamar Taj almost a year ago, it was Doctor Stephen Strange that you first met out of everyone. He was one of the masters there, after all, and despite that – you had fallen for him. Sometimes it felt like more than a crush, though, especially since you and Stephen grew closer and closer as time went by. You always assumed your crush would lead nowhere and you’d get over him, because there were days when you thought nothing would happen with you and Stephen. He was older than you; you were a good twenty years younger than him. Eventually, you decided to just date a guy who seemed a bit more attainable. That was when you met Luke. He was around your age, and you hoped that being with him would diminish the crush you had on Stephen – even though you were going to stay best friends with him.

But it didn’t take you long to realise that Luke wasn’t the man for you. He wasn’t always the best boyfriend. He seemed to only care about himself and his own pleasure, and it quickly got to you. There were days when it seemed like Stephen would listen to you more than your own boyfriend would. And whenever you told Stephen about your problems with Luke, he would always be so kind and caring.

And it was then that you realised that you loved Stephen. But fear got the best of you, and you weren’t ready to tell him the truth. You were convinced he didn’t even feel the same way back, anyway. Part of you was also scared to tell Luke that you wanted to end things. What if he freaked out and got angry?

You were officially stuck between a rock and a hard place.

******

It was early one evening and you found yourself laying on Luke’s bed. He wouldn’t even look at you, though. His eyes were stuck on his phone. As usual, he was paying no attention to you. But you were over it. If you were going to be with him, he would have to start acting like an actual boyfriend.

“Can you please just put your phone down and come cuddle with me?” you asked with a little pout.

But Luke said nothing. Whatever was on his phone seemed much more important.

“Luke,” you tried again. “Please just come cuddle with me.”

Luke grunted and rolled his eyes. “I heard you the first time, Y/N. I’m busy right now.”

“You barely ever give me any attention,” you said quietly. “It makes me upset. You’re always on your phone, talking to other people, when I’m right there.”

“Well, you’re always talking to Stephen,” snapped Luke.

“Uh, yeah. I talk to him because he actually listens to me.”

Luke chuckled. “I do listen to you.”

“When’s my birthday?” you suddenly asked him. It was a test. If he really, truly cared for you, then he would know that fact.

Luke shrugged. “July 9th.”

You shook your head, trying not to glare at him. “It’s June 9th. See. You don’t listen!”

And he didn’t even seem concerned with that as he tapped away on his phone. It hurt. It really did. And you found yourself with tears welling up in your eyes. You decided right then and there that you were going to talk to the person who actually listened to you. And that was Stephen.

You got off the bed in a huff, determined to get away from Luke. You stormed over to the door, yanking it open in a hurry.

“Where are you going?” Luke called out.

“It doesn’t matter,” you told him bluntly.

“I bet you’re going to him. At the Sanctum.” Luke’s voice was laced with an accusatory tone.

You didn’t answer. You just slammed the door shut, not caring that you were in your pyjamas. If Luke was going to treat you like that, then you were going to put some distance between the both of you. In a rush, you opened up a portal that would take you right to where Stephen would be. The New York Sanctum. You closed the portal behind you when you arrived and took quiet steps to Stephen’s room. Was he still awake? It was late. You hoped he was up.

When you got to his door you saw a small stream of light shining through. That was a good sign. You knocked on the door and heard some noise from behind it.

“Who’s there?” Stephen asked loudly.

“It’s me,” you responded.

“Come in!”

You pushed the door open, finding Stephen there in his robe and a thick book on his lap.

“Hey,” Stephen greeted you.

“Hi. Am I disturbing you?” you asked. That was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Not at all. What’s wrong?”

You sighed at the question. “Can I come and sit with you in the bed and tell you?”

“Of course.” Stephen pulled his blanket back, offering you a spot to sit.

You joined him on the comfortable bed, taking in the situation. You and Luke had just had a pretty nasty fight. And you hated the way he made you feel. You said nothing for a while, and neither did Stephen, until he finally broke the silence.

“What happened?” he asked.

You turned to look at him, noticing the worry on his face. You sucked in a sharp breath before starting your story. “Me and Luke just had a little argument.”

“Why?”

“I’ve just noticed that Luke doesn’t really pay attention to me. He wants to spend more time on his phone than he does with me.” As you said that, you could see Stephen shaking his head. “And earlier, I asked Luke if we could just cuddle. But all he did was ignore me.” The words got to you as you remembered the argument. Tears formed in your eyes yet again, your voice turning all soft.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart,” Stephen said quickly. He pulled you to him, letting you rest your head on his chest as he hugged you tight.

You pulled back a little to wipe at your eyes. “I’ve noticed during our whole relationship that he doesn’t really listen to me. He doesn’t show me that he cares about me.”

“I’ve noticed that too.”

Your eyes widened a little. “Really?”

Stephen nodded at you. “I’ve noticed how Luke upsets you. But I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t want to make you anymore upset. And I didn’t want to lose my best friend. I care about you, Y/N. So much. I love you. I love every part of you.”

Your head snapped to the side as you looked at Stephen, completely taken aback by what he had just said. Did he just…?

“What?” you asked with a whisper.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered, his eyes shutting for a second. He turned away from you, suddenly looking embarrassed.

“Stephen,” you called out to him.

He turned back around. Slowly. And there you saw his bright red cheeks.

“Is that true?” you wondered. “Did you really mean that?”

Stephen sighed loudly. “Yes. It’s true. And I’ve loved you ever since we first met. It broke my heart so much when I found out that you were with Luke. I kept my mouth shut because I just wanted to be happy for you. And I knew nothing could really happen between us, anyway. Because of our age gap…”

For a long time, you and Stephen just looked at each other. You were in the middle of taking in every word he just told you. His confession. But then you couldn’t help it when you sent him a teary-eyed smile. Reaching forward, you cupped his face with your hands. He smiled at you. A sweet, bright smile.

“I love you too. And I always have,” you whispered.

“Really?”

You nodded and leaned over to him, giving him a soft kiss. And then he kissed you back. And it was slow and moving and so, so perfect. But Stephen suddenly pulled away.

“What about Luke?” he asked you.

“Stephen, I’ve given Luke many opportunities. I’m done being treated second best,” you said confidently. You gave Stephen another kiss before eyeing him closely. “I’ve always loved you, Stephen. I’m sorry I was just too much of a coward to admit it.”

Stephen laughed lowly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Well, that makes two of us then.”

You giggled right back at him before Stephen kissed you. It quickly grew heated, your tongue diving into Stephen’s mouth. His hands lowered and held your hips tight, pulling you right into his lap. Your lips broke apart for a split second, but Stephen wasted no time as he quickly pulled you back into a kiss.

Your arms quickly wrapped around his broad back, with Stephen mimicking the action as he held you nice and tight. Tongues dancing together, you suddenly felt something hard pressing into you. You had to pull away from Stephen when you realised what it was. You gasped, watching as Stephen blushed all over again.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice all shy.

But you didn’t care. You kissed him fast and hard and noticed just how quickly Stephen kissed you back. Rocking your hips against his, you heard Stephen groan for you. The noise literally had you going weak right there in his arms, your centre growing wetter and wetter.

You kept kissing and rocking your hips, loving the sounds Stephen kept making. Those deep, guttural groans. But you pulled away from him so you could whisper out a request.

“Please make love to me,” you told him.

“Are you sure?” he asked with big eyes.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.” You meant every word.

Stephen kissed you softly before moving away from your mouth. “Okay.”

He shifted a little so that you were laying on the bed, while Stephen hovered above you. You shared another kiss before Stephen reached down, pulling off your top and exposing your breasts. He threw the top to the floor before he stared down at your breasts, taking them in. He stared at you, at your hard nipples. And then he blushed some more. You found it so adorable.

“You look so beautiful,” he said with a whisper. Then he leaned down, his warm lips kissing your skin. His lips ghosted over your nipples as he paid attention to each breast. Then he sucked one of your breasts into his mouth, moaning as a big hand grasped the other one.

The feeling had you whining. You reached down, raking a hand through Stephen’s thick locks. Your back arched for him, letting pleasure take over. You felt so wet. And it was all for Stephen. He stayed there, licking and sucking at your breast, before reaching down to pull down your pyjama bottoms and panties. They both hit the floor, and then you were completely and utterly exposed for Stephen. Every part of you was on show.

“Fuck,” Stephen hissed as he stared at you. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N.”

He moved down, kissing you hard and fast. Your tongues moved together wildly, but you had to see Stephen. You had to see him properly.

“I wanna see you too,” you said with a whine. “Please.”

“Alright, sweetheart.” He nodded. He got off the bed to stand up, slowly pulling off his robe, exposing his cock.

You literally gasped at what you were seeing. He was so hard. And so, so big. Thick too. You couldn’t wait to feel him deep inside of you.

Stephen got back on the bed and you wasted no time spreading your legs for him. Stephen then got settled in between your legs as he hovered above you. He kissed you softly, and while his mouth was so perfect, you needed him to take you already.

“Please fuck me,” you pleaded with him.

“Okay,” Stephen groaned. “But I’m gonna start off slow. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You smiled at how sweet and caring he was being. “Okay.”

Stephen gave you a soft kiss before grabbing his cock. He ran the tip up and down your wet slit a few times. The swollen tip of his cock was soon covered in your arousal. You let out a sharp moan when you felt Stephen press the head of his cock against your clit. It felt so good.

“Are you ready?” He asked, voice deep.

You nodded eagerly at him. Stephen watched you closely as he pressed the tip of his cock to your entrance, and then he slid right into you with absolute ease. You moaned in unison, and then Stephen buried his face in your neck as he pushed more of his cock into you. You quickly wrapped your arms around him, wanting to feel him close. You could hear Stephen groaning into your ear when he filled you up, right to the hilt as he bottomed out. The noise had you clenching around him.

“Fuck,” Stephen moaned out.

“Are you okay?” you quickly asked.

Stephen moved so that he could stare down at you. His cheeks were so red. “Yes. You just feel so good wrapped around my cock.”

You gave him a quick kiss. “Please move. Please.”

Stephen’s eyes were stuck on you as he began to move his cock. He was moving slowly, but the pleasure was still there and had you letting out little moans. You dragged your nails across his skin, digging into him. But you had to have more.

“Please move faster,” you begged. “Please.”

Stephen did. He thrusted into you that little bit faster and harder, and you couldn’t help it when you let out a long moan. The sound filled the room right up. You couldn’t believe how good he was making you feel. The pleasure was so new to you, and you had no idea that sex could feel so good.

Stephen kept moving in and out of you, his cock stretching you out. He was moving fast and hard and it was exactly what you needed.

“Oh, please don’t stop!” you let out.

“I’m not gonna stop.” He leaned down, giving you a rushed kiss that you eagerly returned. Stephen placed his hands on either side of your head and suddenly began to just pound into you wildly.

“Stephen!” you whined out. “Mm, fuck me just like that!”

Your shaky hands reached down as you grabbed at the blankets, pulling at them as Stephen took you hard and fast and so, so deep. Your knuckles literally turned white as you grabbed at the blankets, getting lost in the pure pleasure that Stephen was giving you. The sound of skin hitting skin filled the room and you loved every second of it.

Stephen suddenly pushed his cock into you nice and deep. The swollen tip of his cock was pressing up against that sweet, sensitive spot – a spot no one had ever reached before.

“Mm, your cock feels so good,” you cried out.

“Fuck.” Stephen suddenly lowered his body, pressing up against you tightly.

You kissed each other hard and fast; all the while Stephen kept hitting that spot again and again. You circled your arms around his back and let out a long moan when you realised that your orgasm was quickly forming. It was something you had never felt before. You needed it so bad.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you whined out. Stephen was fucking you so good. He knew exactly how to touch you. Exactly how to make you feel good, and you knew you were going to meet your orgasm any second now.

That seemed to trigger something in Stephen, because he began to pound into you wildly from above. You kept crying out, letting Stephen know just how good he was making you feel. Your back arched as that wild feeling grew more and more. You kept moaning, unable to believe how good you were feeling – and how it was Stephen of all people who was making you feel so good. And then the feeling hit you. Your orgasm. It hit you hard and fast and you lost it right there on Stephen’s cock.

“Oh, Stephen!” you moaned out, letting your orgasm take over your body. It felt so good. You were growing wetter and wetter by the second, letting Stephen pound right into you.

Stephen fucked you right through your orgasm. He was dragging out the pure pleasure, allowing you to feel every second of it. He groaned deeply, and you had a feeling it was because your pussy was clenching right around Stephen, pulling him deeper and deeper into you.

He kept pounding into you and you suddenly felt something else growing. Another orgasm. But it felt so much stronger than the one you just had. It was building up, second by second, the heat just growing the more Stephen fucked you. And he was fucking you so good, so hard. He seemed to be entirely focused on your pleasure alone, his cock stretching you out and filling you up at just the right angle yet again.

“Stephen, please keep moving,” you whined as he kept on thrusting his cock into you. “Oh, fuck. I think I’m going to…”

"Just let go, sweetheart," Stephen told you.

After those words left his mouth, you felt yourself coming undone. You couldn’t say anything. All you did was scream loudly as you came a second time, the feeling driving you wild. You were gushing right around Stephen’s length, making you feel so wet between your thighs. It was something you had never felt before, and you kept feeling yourself getting wetter the more Stephen fucked you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you saw white, your ears ringing. All you could feel was complete and total pleasure as you felt your body shaking. Stephen was dragging out that wonderful feeling with his cock, like he wanted to make sure that your orgasm was lasting as long as possible.

You whined and cried out, eyes shut tight as your strong orgasm hit you. You still didn’t say anything and instead just let out sounds of pleasure, your breathing unsteady as Stephen fucked you good and hard.

Eventually, the wonderful feeling faded, and you found yourself letting out soft whines as Stephen kept moving in and out of you, his cock twitching inside of you.

“I’m gonna cum,” he muttered out.

“Mm, you can cum inside of me,” you whispered, wanting to feel him lose himself inside of you. “I’m on the pill. Please cum inside of me. Please.” You needed it. You had to have Stephen – every part of him.

It seemed as if that was all Stephen needed to hear, because a second later, he was giving you a few more deep thrusts before letting out the deepest of groans. And then he came. He came right there inside of you, filling you up. He lost all control, giving you every drop of cum he had to offer.

He was panting wildly as he pushed in and out of you. Soon his breathing settled and he laid down next to you on the bed. You were in the middle of catching your breath too. You were still trying to process what just happened with you and Stephen.

Stephen seemed to get his breathing back on track and got up. He put his robe on and then headed off into another room. He came back with a washcloth in hand. You laid there, body still shaking a little, as Stephen cleaned you up gingerly.

"Did you know you squirted?" Stephen asked you as he cleaned up your sensitive area gently.

You stared at him for a long moment before you shook your head. That must have been what you were experiencing earlier when you felt so wet between your thighs.

"No, no man has ever made me do that before... Until you of course," you told Stephen and he sent you a smile before winking at you. He then stood up and made his way back over to the other room to put the washcloth back.

After he returned from putting the washcloth back, he climbed back into bed with you and covered you with the warm blankets.

“Are you okay?” he asked lowly.

“I’m okay.” You nodded at him. You moved over to Stephen, laying down on his broad chest as he wrapped an arm around you. It felt so good to have him cuddle you, to have him hold you close.

It was quiet for a while. And you figured that Stephen just wanted to get some sleep, but then he broke the silence.

“So, when do you plan on telling Luke that your relationship is over?” he asked.

It was a good question. Shifting slightly, you looked up at Stephen. “I’ll probably tell him tomorrow, I guess. If he listens to me, that is. He barely even listens to me when I’m talking. He probably won’t even listen to me when I finally break up with him.”

“Does Luke listen to you about anything?” Stephen asked with a furrowed brow. He looked offended on your behalf.

You shook your head at him. “I don’t think so. He doesn’t even know when my birthday is. And he doesn’t know the stuff I like, or the stuff I don’t like.”

Stephen’s eyes widened. “How could he not remember that your birthday is the 9th of June? Or that your favourite flowers are roses? Or that you hate spicy food?” There was such disbelief in Stephen’s voice, like he couldn’t even process the fact that Luke didn’t know those things about you.

You looked at Stephen for what felt like an hour. You were in total shock. How was it that your boyfriend didn’t know any of that stuff, but Stephen did? Stephen knew you better than your boyfriend did. Better than anyone else, it seemed.

“How… How do you know all of that?” you finally let out, your voice a bit shaky. Your mind was still a little hazy from your love making session.

Stephen just smiled at you. “I actually listen to everything you tell me.”

You returned his smile. It was big and bright, and that was because you were experiencing full, pure joy. You kissed Stephen softly and slowly, loving the way he gently kissed you back. You were right where you belonged. Right there with the man who actually knew you. You were so lucky that the two of you had found each other – even with the Luke hurdle that had been thrown your way. But he could be dealt with later.

“I love you, Stephen Strange,” you said with a whisper.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he said, his voice laced with what you could only describe as pure love. You and Stephen laid there together, wrapped up in each other’s arms. Your eyes fluttered shut as pure exhaustion took over. But you were truly over the moon that it was Stephen that you were with. Because he was the one who listened to you. He was the one who cared for you. And he was the one who loved you.

And you loved him just as much.

Tag list: @butchers-girl @azu21 @polytheatrix @lucimorningst4r @evelyn-kingsley @withalittlehoney @mirikusashes @bobateadaydreams @strangelockd @thealleydog @cemak @stewardofningishzida @smokeywhalee @floatingfireflies @iamsherlocked1479 @icytrickster17 @asherloki @alice-bcmf @aphroditesdilemma @strangesthirdeye @rmoonstoner @stephenswh0re

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faithinhome · 1 year

Text

brave. stephen strange x female reader. (one shot).

summary: stephen shows up when you need him.

tags: street harassment, strong language.

a/n: this one shot’s kinda self-indulgent. let’s just say i wrote it to cope with something. i wanted to post it on here in case it resonates with someone else too. i tagged people that i tag on my nnd fic because i wasn’t sure if you guys wanted to be informed for other fics too! i understand this fic is based on something very specific, so please don’t feel pressured to read just because you’re tagged!

you couldn’t believe stephen had managed to piss you off this much.

god, he was so arrogant.

so smart, so beautiful, such an interesting person to be around.

but.

so.

fucking

arrogant.

and you couldn’t stand it.

you were just packing up your stuff in the locker room and stephen walked in behind you, quiet.

you two had just performed a surgery together and had been quiet the entire time.

the previous day, the two of you had had a small argument over something so stupid, you couldn’t even really remember it. but it had spiraled into another bigger issue.

stephen’s inability to accept defeat or that he could be wrong.

before you knew it, the argument had turned heated, with you bringing up all the times he’d been this way throughout your friendship.

you and stephen started out as friends that started hooking up. and you two were just on the verge of a somewhat relationship.

before a relationship had even had a chance to bloom, you’d had your “first fight” with him.

whatever.

you tried to convince yourself stephen was too full of himself to be a good boyfriend to you anyway.

sure, he was charming. and he did care. he looked after you. and he was strong. he was so…he was so fucking beautiful too. and he was definitely the best man you’d ever slept with in your entire life.

no.

you tried to push the thoughts away, you were getting distracted and swayed away.

you were going to wait for stephen to apologize.

maybe, he’d do it right now? maybe he’d admit to his faults and you guys could go back to building a foundation together, to be with each other.

but you just heard a locker door shut and footsteps fading away.

you turned to find that he had left.

you just sighed to yourself and hurriedly packed your things, closing the locker.

sure, stephen was stubborn. but you were even more stubborn. and you weren’t going to budge, no matter what.

you pulled on your jacket and began walking out of the building, sighing as you anticipated a long transit ride home.

you’d just left the driveway and had taken to the sidewalk, when you heard a car on the road honk behind you.

you turned to find a black car behind you, squinting as the headlights blinded your eyes. it came up beside you and the window rolled down.

a man that you’d never seen before flashed you a smile. “hey, sweetheart. all alone tonight?”

your heart began to thump in your chest, and it felt like it was in your throat. you turned away and clutched your bag tighter, starting to walk faster but the car caught up.

“want a ride, baby? you shouldn’t be out here all alone at night.”

yeah, because of assholes like you.

“oh come now, don’t be shy” the man pushed.

tears stung at your eyes. you didn’t know what to do. should you respond? should you ask him to fuck off? or should you keep quiet for the sake of your own safety and hope that he gives up eventually?

just as fear and anxiety were starting to take over, clouding your thoughts and making it hard to breathe, you heard a bump and the car next to you was lightly struck.

your breath hitched and you turned, watching stephen strange emerge out of the driver’s seat of the car that came to a halt after bumping into the creep’s vehicle.

“hey, what the fuck, man?” the creep screamed, sticking his head out of the window to see who it was.

“is there a problem here?” stephen asked, his forehead creased, as he looked between you two.

his eyes glued to you for a few moments, scanning you, as if he was assessing your current condition.

“yeah, buddy, you just hit my fucking car.” the man got out of the vehicle, staring daggers at stephen.

you gasped, your heart beat rising and breathing growing shallower.

“stephen” you whispered, walking up to him and grabbing his shirt, fear climbing up to your throat.

stephen extended an arm in front of you, gently nudging you behind him. but your grip never left his shirt. you didn’t want stephen to get hurt.

“i saw you were bothering my girl over here, and i thought i should come put you in your place.” he spat angrily.

my girl.

“so that little slut is your girl? and why do you think i give a fuck?” the man laughed.

stephen’s eyes darkened, his jaw clenching. you could see the nerve pop in his head as he swallowed, stepping closer to the man, staring down at him. “who the fuck do you think you’re talking about? say that about her again and i’ll break your fucking jaw.”

the creep looked up at stephen, trying to keep his chest broad, even though you could notice a hint of fear in his face. “well, your girl shouldn’t have been walking around looking like that if she didn’t want attention.”

within a split second, stephen had the man’s face in his right hand as he jerked him closer and the man cowered in fear. “maybe men like you shouldn’t be allowed to walk freely on the streets. maybe you should be locked up forever.”

stephen let go of the man, clicking his tongue and pretending to have had an epiphany.

“actually, i could get you locked up.”

the man now cowered in fear, his eyes widening.

“do you know who i am?” strange continued, his voice deepening further, if that was even possible. “i know absolutely everyone. i could have you locked up, beaten down to a fucking pulp. come after my girl again and i will fucking destroy you. understood?”

the man swallowed, looking between the two, “i-i-“

“i said, is. that. understood?”

stephen sounded really mad. you’d never seen him this angry. you were frightened, and he was on your side.

“y-yes.” the man breathed out.

“now, apologize to my girlfriend.”

your eyes widened as you looked up at stephen, not wanting to look away and at the creep.

had he just called you his girlfriend?

the man turned to you, his jaw clenching. “i- i’m, uh-”

he was clearly hesitating with his apology. you had a feeling he’d never really apologized to a woman before.

“on your knees” stephen interrupted, his voice gruff and impatient.

“what?”

“get on your knees and apologize. and really try to beg for her forgiveness.” stephen dragged that sentence out long and slow, trying to absolutely crush the man’s self-esteem.

a small smile appeared on your face and you looked over at the man who looked like he would rather jump off a building.

but he cowered under stephen’s stare and took a big sigh, getting on his knees. “i-i’m sorry.”

you looked at the guy and back up at stephen, not really sure what to do.

“i said, beg for her forgiveness. that’s not a whole lot begging.” stephen spat.

“i’m -i’m sorry” the man stammered, clearly trying to force himself into doing this. “please-forgive me.”

he looked up at stephen who gave him a disapproving look.

“more” stephen barked and the man turned to look at you, meeting your eyes this time, even just for a few moments.

“i’m really sorry” the creep said, his voice smaller. “please forgive me. please. i regret behaving the way that i did. i was- i was a total asshole. a total pig for treating you the way i did. i’m so sorry.”

you looked down at the man, who wasn’t even able to look you in the eye, when not too long ago, he was staring you down like he had all power over you.

this right here, this felt good. this felt right.

“good” stephen leant in and heaved the guy up, grabbing his shirt by the collar and pulling him closer. “i better not fucking see you around here, or around my girl, ever again. do you understand?”

“yes. sorry.”

stephen clicked his tongue and shook his head in disapproval “you’re apologizing to the wrong person.” he pointed at you and the man apologized again, while all you could do was quietly watch all that was unfolding in front of you.

stephen let the man go with a slight shove. “leave before i change my mind and decide to break your legs this very second.”

the man scurried back inside his car. it was so evident on his face that his ego was absolutely shattered. he looked like he was almost in a state of shock.

which frankly, so were you.

stephen watched the man drive off, reaching back to touch your arm lightly.

he turned and his concerned eyes searched your face, subtle sadness weaving through his face.

“y/n, a-are you okay?” he asked, his voice now soft and gentle.

you still couldn’t speak. all you could do was stare up at stephen, still coming down from the fear you’d felt earlier.

“y/n?” stephen stepped closer, concerned that you weren’t saying anything. he reached out to cup your face, eyes searching yours. “please say something.”

your felt shivers run along your skin as stephen touched you, tears threatening to well up in your eyes as you watched the way stephen watched you with such care, gentleness and concern.

“i-i’m okay, stephen. thank you,” you managed to say.

“i’m so sorry that happened to you. he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

you smiled softly, bringing a hand up to place over stephen’s, a tear falling down your cheek as you shook your head. “how could he? you were right here.”

stephen shook his head, trying to brush your tear off with his thumb. “oh baby, please don’t cry. i’m sorry. i’ll always be here. i’ll always protect you, y/n.”

baby.

“you h-helped me,” it took a lot for you to look into stephen’s eyes and speak without bursting into tears. “even though we were fighting.”

“no, that doesn’t matter, it never will.” stephen shook his head. “i’ll always protect you, okay? no matter what. and i’m sorry. i’m so sorry about everything. i should’ve been here. but i’m here now, okay?”

you smiled and nodded, hesitating before leaning up to peck stephen’s lips, smiling wider when he blushed.

“thank you, stephen. you were so…so brave.”

“anything for you” stephen smiled, leaning in to place a kiss on your forehead. “and i’m driving you to and from work now, okay?”

“no, stephen, it’s okay-“

“nope, i don’t want to hear it.” stephen shook his head, his voice firm. “i’ll keep you safe, okay? you don’t have to worry anymore.”

you closed your eyes, letting out a soft sigh.

you loved being independent, holding down your own fort. but this. this felt amazing in its own right. having someone care for you, someone that cared for your well-being. someone that wanted to protect you and make sure you were okay. you just wanted to surrender to this affection, you wanted to allow this comfort.

“thank you.”

“you deserve it” stephen smiled, reaching down to hold your hand. “let’s go.”

you looked up at him as he led you to his car, unable to wipe the smile off your face.

maybe he’s right, you thought to yourself. maybe i do deserve it.

…

TAGLIST

@kentucky-criedfricken @sherlux @evelynrosestuff @thewinterpoet2 @lokislov3 @0p444ls @nabiiturner @withalittlehoney @lokiego @cemak @chocokitty @whore4sherlockholmes

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eviesaurusrex · 2 years

Text

ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ ʙʟɪꜱꜱ | ꜱ. ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ

GIFs by the awesome @cumberbatchlives

Stephen Strange x Stark!Witch!Reader

summary: Stephen and YN—world famous Avengers (but kinda retired)—are picking up their kids from school. That’s it. That’s the summary.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: nothing, pure fluff, a bit of married bickering

author's note: These GIFs have me in a chokehold ever since seeing them for the first time. For timeline’s sake, there wasn’t a blip and no, I didn’t forget about it while writing and was too lazy to rewrite it leave me alone o.o

"Yes, Tony, we're coming. I told Pepper two weeks ago when I got her invitation," YN spoke while holding the newest (futuristic) Stark phone in hand and left the subway station. The odd stares from every single person around her were something she had become accustomed to years ago, but more like a decade. The earplugs canceled their hushed, but not hushed at all, whispers at least. "I wanted to make sure you didn't forget it—or that douchebag talked you out of it." Eye rolling, YN typed a quick text as she listened to her brother. Even after ten years of dating and six of them married, Tony still had to annoy the hell out of Stephen. "I want to see my nephews and my niece, and Morgan would love some company that can keep up with her mentally." She knew what he meant. Morgan was exceptionally bright—it was in their blood, after all—and her own children had gotten the full dose of Stark and Strange intelligence. The quartet was as close as friends could get.

She sighed softly. "Did you already talk to Midtown?" But she knew the answer to that. "You know Pepper doesn't want her to feel out of place between all the older students, so we're waiting, I guess. It's probably the best anyway." Humming, YN rounded the block corner to reach her kids' school. "I suppose it is. But you can take a deep breath now because we're coming over the weekend. But please, don't annoy my husband, would you? Try to be a decent adult for at least 48 hours. Think about it as a pre-birthday present for your most loved sister." Smiling, YN waved to one of the already waiting moms as she approached the private school's gate and laughed as she heard Tony's groan. "That's an even harder task than fighting Thanos, but yes, okay. I will try, but only if he tries as well! Gotta go, evil spawn, my girls are coming home. Don"t forget to bring the good wine!" And with that, the older Stark ended the call and left YN with a soft shake of her head.

The earplugs disappeared in her bag just as the tunes of today's end echoed over the courtyard and the first students came rushing out of the building. YN pushed her sunglasses up to place them on her head, and her smile morphed into a grin as the mop of dark curls of her youngest appeared between all the other kids. As soon as she saw her mom, the girl grinned as bright as the sun above them and hurried over the court to get to her. "MOM!" Laughing, YN caught her with open arms and pressed the five-year-old tightly against her. "Hello, sunshine," she greeted the small girl, bent down, and peppered kisses all over her head. It had been Stephen who had picked the kids up in the last couple of days because even though the couple was retired from their lives as world's mightiest heroes, sometimes the world still needed them. "Did you fight the bad people?" Ophelia was always eager to know everything about her mom's superhero duties, and YN always obliged every order to tell every single story.

They never needed books full of bedtime stories.

Pushing the soft curls behind her small ears, YN grinned. "Sure thing, munchkin. Just as easy as eating that ice cream I bought this morning and which is waiting for a special girl and her very special rainbow spoon." Ophelia started to clap while jumping on the spot. "Can I have some instead of lunch? Please, Mommy!" This kid knew what she had to do in order to soften her mother's heart, and YN nodded without thinking. "But first, I wanna see those math homework done, deal?" She had to pretend at least as if she wasn't as soft as she certainly was for her children.

Tough superhero, my ass, she thought with a smile and raised a hand to wave to her two eldest children as they finally appeared at the front door. The seven-year-old twins—Vincent and Peter—let their eyes wander, and just as they settled on top of their mother and sister, a familiar body appeared next to her.

"Right on time, I see," Stephen grinned down on his two girls, and Ophelia screeched before jumping into her father's arms. "I thought Mom would be the only one picking us up!" One could barely understand her words because her voice climbed higher and higher at the excitement she felt in her small body. The sorcerer grinned even wider. "Well, then, my surprise most definitely worked out. Hello, sunshine." He kissed her small cheeks before setting her back on the ground and opening his arms for the twins. Only Peter jumped into them, but Vincent pressed himself against his side.

His hand softly carded through his unruly mop of hair while moving Peter softly to find the perfect position. "Didn't you say something about being away for the next week?" Vincent always was the more straightforward of the twins. Peter was just happy to have his father back sooner than he thought.

Stephen hummed while walking them both the short distance over to his wife and their mother. "That's right, but I finished a lot faster than anticipated," was all he told them before reaching his wife with the knowing look in her mesmerizing eyes. "More like you threw them insult after insult in their poor faces and just vanished through one of your portals, love," she returned and waited until Peter was put back onto the ground to hug her boys. "What do we do when we see Mom after an awful lot of time, boys?" The twins blinked up to her, crystal blue eyes shining brightly and soft grins tucked at their lips. "Hello, Mom!" They both spoke in unison, and YN laughed softly before bending down and pressing loving kisses on their heads. "Hello to you too. School was okay? No bullies treating you wrongly anymore?"

YN really hoped that her talk to the headmaster was something that helped the situation instead of making it worse.

"He isn't at the school anymore. Best birthday present ever, Mom, thank you!"

Grinning with that hint of mischievousness she had to herself, the mother nodded, satisfied. "Very well, then. You guys take your sister between you, and we can head home as soon as I greet your dad." And with that, the former Stark pulled Stephen to her and enveloped his broad shoulders into a tight embrace, and took the feeling of his lips against hers in after he had bent his head. Her fingers softly carded through his dark hair while her other thumb caressed his jawline, and a soft sigh escaped her at the feeling of his skin against hers.

Even though they had known each other for so long and had been in a relationship for a decade, she felt as thrilled as she had been during their first shared kiss. YN didn’t believe that this would change anytime soon—or ever.

“Are you alright?” Stephen asked in a husky whisper, lips still touching, while his eyes opened and scanned her face for any visible marks or scratches. YN smiled up to him, gently bumping the tip of her nose against his. She may be an Avenger, and a powerful one at that, but Stephen always worried about her—but well, she worried about him just as much. “I am,” she nodded, but her barely palpable flinch as the pad of his thumb made contact with the skin stretching over her left cheekbone gave her away. Her husband’s brows furrowed tremendously, and his eyes stared at the spot, now discovering the deception his wife had created with makeup. “I didn’t want to worry the kids,” YN whispered at the sight of realization in his eyes, and Stephen nodded. “Of course. But don’t you dare think I will let you get away with this. As soon as they are nose deep in their books, I will demand a look on it, wife.” Grinning, the woman nodded. “Of course, husband,” she replied, pressing their lips together another time before turning to their beautiful children, who occupied themselves with hopscotching over the drawn numbers.

Vincent and Peter had their eyes settled on their younger sister like hawks, ready to jump to her aid whenever she stumbled. Ophelia sang happily to the rhythm of her small jumps, curls bouncing around her pretty face.

Smiling, YN let Stephen pull her into his side, arm around her shoulders and lips pressing on the top of her head. “We really have the most incredible children,” the father mumbled, still in awe of how his life had turned after the accident. And this strong, wonderful, and compassionate woman in his arm had gifted him the most precious gift life had to offer: undying love and the happiness of fatherhood.

“Don’t let Tony hear that,” she grinned softly, eyes still trained on her two sons and daughter. But then she looked up at her loving husband, who felt her gaze and looked down at her, one brow softly cocked. “Just in case you forgot about it, but they await us this weekend.” His eyes widened suddenly, and a groan left him, head falling back. “Why? Didn’t we agree on once a year in our prenup?” She hit his chest with a flat hand. “Really funny, especially because we both know very well that we never had one of these. Remember? You told me something about marrying out of pure love and utter devotion and that contracts belong to cooperations? That you weren’t another business deal I sign?” She grinned up to him, and Stephen groaned again. “I see now the advantages of said prenup. I could’ve put the once-a-year rule in it,” the sorcerer returned with a playful nudge to her chin with his finger. “That’s why we’re going. The kids could use some nature, and Lia misses Morgan. So…” Stephen cocked a brow. “Don’t you dare and say the thing you want to say right now.”

But YN said it anyway. “You’ll behave, even if my brother tries to get on your nerves,” the woman decided, but the Strange couldn’t keep it at that. “So, he can behave like a spoiled child, insult me countless times, and I have to sit it out?”

“Yes.”

“That’s unfair.”

“It’s called being an adult and how one shows that they’re upon such childish behavior.”

The verbal slugfest was quick, and the kids turned to their arguing parents. “What’s going on? Are Mommy and Daddy fighting?” Ophelia asked wide-eyed, but the boys only changed a look before Vince answered his sister. “Mom is the boss, Lia,” he grinned, and the youngest Strange giggled.

Stephen sighed again. “You win,” he gritted, but his wife only grinned wider. “What a surprise,” she teased him because, frankly, it wasn’t. She always won—Stephen would never admit it, but he couldn’t deny his wife a single request, even if it meant enduring his annoying brother-in-law for an entire weekend. He rolled his eyes lovingly before taking YN’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together, and turning to their children.

“Are we ready?”

All three of them nodded excitedly because they knew what their father would do in just a second. Shortly, the man let go of his wife to open a sparkling portal right into the foyer of the Sanctum Sanctorum, where Uncle Wong already stood, waiting. He crouched to hug the lot after the three kids had jumped over the golden threshold of the portal while Stephen held again onto his wife’s hand and led her into their shared home.

;

Hope y’all enjoyed this little piece, and thanks for reading! As usual: Comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated <3

Taglist: @poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @seasonofthenerd @onecrazydirectioner @meeksmusic83 @harpywritesfic @strangeions @apple-and-berry @ben-er-ino @multifandomrandomgirl @lucimorningst4r @samisubi @hunterofshadows04 @y-napotat @lejuveinlegroove @ohchoices @jyessaminereads

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brunchable · 1 year

Text

If I Would Have Known (Oneshot) || Doctor Strange × F!Reader.

Word Count: 5.6K

Themes: ANGST× 5, Mentions of Death by accident, Misunderstanding, Couple's Fight, Lots of Swearing.

A/N: I haven't written angst in a while. . . And I combined inspiration from three movies into this oneshot. I hope you like it! :D Also based on the song 'If I would I known.

It's not easy dating a hero—especially one as famous as Doctor Strange. An intelligent man with a sprinkle of ego and smugness, so they say. You were aware of what you were getting yourself into when you agreed to be in a relationship with him, but now you seem to have miscalculated your patience.

He had a responsibility to protect this reality, and you were perfectly aware of it. But it seemed that his responsibility as your man was becoming less and less of a concern for him. While you were still in the "honeymoon" period of your relationship, which lasted for the first six or seven months, his whole universe was centred on you. You weren't accustomed to that, and it took you a little while to get used to the idea of a man treating you so well. When you did, you fell head over heels in love with his endearing antics. He lived up to that promise.

He used to sit there all day long with a mesmerised expression on his face as he listened to you rant about your experiences at work. When you were feeling down, his go-to ritual was to have a proper debate with your Samoyed, Froyo, who is quite talkative and enjoys engaging in conversation. When you weren't looking, he would sneakily leave you random post-it notes with sweet comments on them, knowing full well that he had placed them there using his portals.

You were a good partner to him and did your part as well. You gave him immediate care when he was hurt, and you fed him when he became so engrossed in his studies that he forgets to eat. Despite your desire to get to know him on a deeper level, you respect that he doesn't want to speak about certain topics, and you let it go, thinking he will tell you when he's ready. You were also the one that went with him everywhere he went in a heartbeat.

But as of late, just as you're getting closer and closer to the three-year mark of your relationship, you've been seeing less of him, like he’s hiding from you. You've been hearing his voicemail more often than you'd want to, which is frustrating for you, but you always try to put yourself in his shoes.

You told him that maybe both of you needed a break, that maybe he just needed some space and Stephen seemed to agree with that. During that time, you left him alone, thinking that distance makes the heart grow fonder.

And after a one week of being apart, just before the anniversary, you call him, asked him if he was ready and he said he was—he said that he missed you and couldn't wait to finally see you. So, you arranged a dinner date on your third anniversary.

•••

You chucked your phone on the table as you went straight to his voicemail again, for the fifth time. You were by yourself at a classy restaurant, sipping your third glass of wine as you waited for Stephen to show up for your anniversary date. It's been a little over an hour.

“May I get you some appetisers, Miss (L/N)?” The server asked, knowing that you’ve had nothing but wine since you arrived.

“I’m okay for now. Thank you.” You lifted your eyes and gave him a kind smile before he left you alone.

You blew some air out to calm yourself, thinking, 'He better be fighting some intergalactic octopus to be this late.’

After two hours pass by, you finally decide to just grab the bill and go home. You really just wasted your time sitting there waiting like an idiot for him. He didn’t even have the courtesy to leave you a text or call.

You were seething in anger.

Leaving the restaurant, tipsy and disappointed, you chose to walk home alone at eleven o’clock at night. You didn't give a damn about the inappropriate looks that followed you or the cat-calling from thirsty men in the streets; maybe it was the wine that caused you to behave in such an irresponsible manner.

Your gut feeling told you that someone was following you, and you quickly lament the fact that you decided to walk home rather than call a cab. When someone grabbed your shoulder, your first line of defence was to hit them with your handbag as hard as you could.

"Ow! (Y/N)! It's just me, Nic!" He used his arms to shield himself from your assault.

"Dr. West?" You blink hard, trying to clear your vision.

"Yeah, I've been calling, now I see that your mind is a bit cloudy." He chuckles, "Christine's wedding reception just finished, Stephen was there. . . Did you guys break up or something?"

"Oh? No—I uh. . . didn’t even know there was a wedding." You laugh, trying to mask the hurt that was forming in your chest. It was the one that felt suffocating.

"Oh. I see." Nic could see the shift to your demeanour and tries to change the subject, "I heard that you're studying to become a Doctor? Don't want to be a paramedic anymore?"

"Y-yeah. No, I love being a paramedic, I just want to advance in my career." You smile, though it was clear to your voice that you're now upset.

"That's a good plan. I'm sure you'll exceed with high honours." He smiles, "Do you need a ride home? I can drop you off? Stephen was still there when I left."

You swallowed and nodded, "Sure. Thank you."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You got out of Nic's car and thanked him as you hopped out. The car ride was pleasant, he just kept telling stories about how he got a new cat, that he's seeking therapy for the loss of his brother. You felt sorry for the man and you can understand because you blipped as well.

"Thank you Dr. West, I appreciate it," You thanked him as you got out of his car and before you could even shut the door he called out your name.

"Hey, (Y/N)?"

"Yeah?" You lean down to check what he wants.

Nic opened his mouth but hesitated to spit it out, "N-nothing, it isn't my place. Have a good night." He smiles a somewhat sad smile.

"Alright? Drive home safely." You returned the smile and shut his door. He honked the horn lightly as he left and you waved at him before entering your house.

Your samoyed, Froyo, immediately jumped at you for a hug, his tail wagging excessively at the sight of you, "Hey buddy! I missed you!" You knelt down and gave him kisses.

After freshening up, you prepared for bed and just stared at your phone. Before you were so angry but now you just felt lonely. Froyo's ears perked when he heard you sniffling and turned around to lay his head on your lap.

Froyo whined softly and gently scratched you with his paw, as if telling you to stop crying. Then a soft knock followed by Stephen's voice came through the door.

"You up?" He asked as he peaked and entered the room.

You're sitting on your bed, now with your knees pulled up to your chest. When you see Stephen coming into the room, you quickly wipe your eyes, then turn the other way, "Yeah."

"You okay?" Stephen saunters in.

"I'm fine." You replied almost in a whisper.

"You sure?" He asked and stopped to stand at the end of the bed.

You nodded and cleared your throat, "What's up? What do you want?"

"I just want to say I'm sorry I missed our date, let me know how much it cost, I'll pay you back for it."

His response renders you mute. Pay me back? As if that would bring my time back.

"Can you pay me back my time?" You snapped but immediately felt guilty, "J-just leave me alone Stephen."

"I planned on going. . . It’s just I—"

You cut him off, your voice sounding more annoyed, "It doesn't fucking matter, okay? Would you just leave the room and shut the door? . . . Please."

"I didn't know that dinner mattered all that much to you–"

"Exactly!"

"Hang on a second, could you let me talk? You told me that we needed a break, and all of a sudden you asked me to have dinner. I mean I just figured. . ."

"Oh Stephen—I-I just don't know how we got here. Our entire relationship, I have gone above and beyond for you, for us. I've cooked, I've cleaned up after your shit, I've been present every time you needed me. I support you, I supported your work. If we ever had dinner or anything, I did the plans, I took care of everything. And I just don't feel like you appreciate any of it. I don't feel you appreciate me. All I want is to know—and for you to show me that you care." Your voice cracked, red rimmed your eyes, the tears dripped down your cheeks.

"Why didn't you just say that to me?" He asked softly. His expression is pitiful.

"I tried—I've tried."

"Never like that, you might have said some things that meant to imply that, but I'm not a mind reader…" he lifted his shoulder in a shrug.

You shook your head in defeat, you sucked in a shaky breath and wiped the tears from your face with the backs of your hands, "It wouldn't matter, you are who you are. Just leave me alone ok? Right now. Just shut my door."

"Listen…" Stephen begins to slowly walk his way towards you, causing to scoot back onto the bed.

In a panicky response you say, "Alright Stephen! Just please, just leave the room. Stephen just—I don't want to be near you right now, please just shut the door, please." A single broken sob erupted from your throat. With reluctance, Stephen turned around and left you alone in your room.

It almost felt like a lost cause. It was power-draining. All these methods you'd tried. All these methods seemed to fail. He needed something? You'd be there. He needed to seek advice? You drop everything and call. Go above and beyond. That was easy. But now, the minute you needed it in return, it was difficult to return the favour, where was that love? What could you do?

All you knew how to do was give things to keep him happy. That always makes you feel happy—but now you realise you were compensating, and eventually there would be none left for you.

Your body is like an empty ink well, the contents of you splattered on the floor. And what for? You wondered. Was it worth the risk? Was it worth those glimpses of comfort and understanding that he offered you? Was it all a tremendous waste of time?

You felt like everything you did reminded you of him. Everything you said, spoke of him. Every thought seemed to be his.

"I want it back," you whispered in the dark, "All my love. It belongs to me."

Your body shook with tears. You'd awake in the morning with a stiff back and a tear covered pillowcase. But you couldn't help it.

You were powerless. Utterly. Powerless.

Erase the pictures, the memories, the hopeful glances at a future together. Or even the simpler things. The friendship, the familiarity, the fantasies, idealised stranger that he once was. The escape, the security, the arms... the arms that embrace and hold and fortify. Take it away, please. Every slight nuance sent you spiralling back towards yourself. And that emptiness.

How could I be filled again?

You have tried. You were trying. You were almost to the point where you were sick of trying. You no longer got hungry. You could no longer sleep. You were tired constantly. Sore. Spiteful. Strange.

Making small talk with strangers. Reaching out relentlessly to friends. And in the end, shutting yourself in and pretending you were safe. But you could no longer hear your friends, or see their faces, you read messages blindly, answered questions stupidly, attempting a casual air of comfort when, in reality, you had none to give.

Would you burst?

Or simply fade until you no longer remember your reason for sadness? Your mother said not to be sad, it's not good for you. Like you didn't already know that. Like it was a choice.

Was it?

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Three days later.

It was a cold and dark night, as if someone covered the sky with a pitch black curtain and blocked out the stars. There was a storm coming and the weather somehow reflected what you were feeling.

You're trying to keep your anger subdued. You're trying to keep yourself from turning around and punching him square between guilty eyes, but you've learned the hard way that punching isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. You allowed myself several moments to calm down before you responded; by ignoring him but it wasn’t working.

You couldn’t stay in the house with him for a second longer. Making your mind up, you began packing Stephen’s things from your house. And while you did you heard the future argument in your mind – the raw words, the screams, the tears.

You were furious, steaming in the head, as if you were a volcano about to erupt while you threw a bag on the bed, hastily entering the closet and digging out Stephen's clothing. You hear him calling out your name however, his very existence was the cause of your wrath. You didn’t want to look at him and packing up his stuff seemed a good distraction.

"(Y/N), (Y/N). Can we talk?" Stephen closely followed behind you like a guilty dog, "(Y/N), all I want to do—"

"What? What? WHAT? Stephen?!" You grabbed the night lamp closest to you and threw it on the wall, causing it to shatter,"WHAT?! What do you want?!"

Stephen flinches at your hostility and lifts his hands openly towards you as if to appease a lion. He can’t believe you just did that. You had never acted so out of control.

Still, with a cool calm voice he replies, "I just want to talk to you, that's all."

"Oh now you want to talk?" Your head bobbles as you laugh out of spite. Your heart pumped fast.

Stephen cautiously steps closer to you, "(Y/N) you know me—"

You shook your head, "No, no, I don't know you. I don't know you. The Stephen I knew told me everything." You scrutinised him head to toe, "You? I don't know who you are."

"I was wrong. . ."

"If I hadn't gone—" You pointed at yourself, lips quivering with rage, "If Nic West didn't have the heart to tell me, would you have told me about this?"

"What–are you crazy? OF COURSE," Stephen raised his voice, losing a bit of his composure, "I would've told you!"

A dry sarcastic smile morphed into your lips as you nodded with false agreement, facing away as he came closer, "Yeah—like how you told me about the Christine's wedding reception huh?"

You turn back around to face him, "What about the parking lot? Yes~ I think I heard something about you being in the parking lot with this woman. WHAT ELSE–haven't you told me Stephen? Because all I'm hearing are the things you haven't told me."

Stephen sighed deeply, his fingers twitching by his side, "What are you talking about?"

"I want to know who she is."

"You're blowing this way out of proportion." He sighs and tilts his head back, pulling his hands through his hair.

You beeline towards him with fire in your eyes. It is true that the quiet ones have the most intimidating anger. Stephen backed up from you as you asked desperately, "Who were you with, Stephen?"

"This girl I met. It was nothing. It was nothing!" He tries to emphasise but you slapped him harshly across the face with a satisfying clap. His head whipped to the side, his jaw flexed, trying to suppress his own wrath.

"Did you have sex with her?" You whispered, "Tell me. Did you cheat on me, asshole!?" you say, with more precise enunciation this time.

"She kissed me."

For several seconds, all you can do is shake your head in disbelief. You gritted your teeth in the beat of silence, with eyes filled with tears you screamed at his face, baring your teeth. The anger in your eyes is replaced with hurt. You immediately look away once the hurt takes over, and then you proceed to grab his stuff.

"It was one kiss and it meant absolutely nothing, baby! I pushed her away, she wouldn't leave me alone," Stephen followed you, "I did such a stupid thing! It was a stupid thing. I'm so sorry."

You shot him a look that can cut through metal, your face jumbled with sorrow and resentment, "You make me sick, you fucking slut!!"

"Slut?"

"I specifically asked you, 'Did anything happen in that party?' and what did you tell me?" You paused, pointing at him accusingly, "You said, no."

Stephen doesn't answer but his phone rang in the most inconvenient of times. Your attention shot towards the phone and you snatched it out of his hands with the strength that your anger gave you.

""Madeleine"? You have her number saved into your phone? Who is this dirty whore?" You growled.

"I didn't sleep with her! I didn't–"

"No. But you wanted to, right?!"

"No!"

"Bullshit. Is she prettier than me?" You jerked your head to the side as you taunted him.

"No!"

"Liar!" You screamed, one that hurt your throat.

"I'M NOT LYING TO YOU!" Frustrated, Stephen screamed back and he felt his voice box strained after.

You talked over him while you grabbed more of his clothes from the closet and threw it at him, "What am I supposed to do now, huh? What the fuck am I supposed to do now?!? You've ruined everything!"

"Will you listen to me!? NOTHING HAPPENED!" Frustration scattered over his face before coalescing into a mask of anger.

"Nothing?! You kissed her! You were out with another woman all night. I'm pregnant. Is that fucking nothing to you?!"

"Yes—No! What!?"

"How many times did you kiss her? Don't you dare lie to me." You charged at him again then harshly poked at his chest.

Stephen lowered his gaze at you, swallowing hard, "Several times."

The image of him kissing another woman—while you took your time reflecting during time apart from each other—flashed through your mind, and your anger erupted anew, you choked back bile, "Oh, God, you make me sick!"

"But it didn't mean anything, baby. She made me realise I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know that now."

"I'm three months pregnant and you're already out trying to fuck other women! What's gonna happen 10 years from now? How could I ever trust anything you say again?!" You screamed, arms flailing and then there was silence, "Fuck you, Stephen. It's over."

You grabbed his bag and bumped past him and ran downstairs, throwing it out on the front porch while he calls out to you.

"(Y/N), We're having a baby."

"No." You whip around, "No, I am the one having this baby. I'm the pregnant one, not you. And she's better off with no father than a lying asshole like you!"

"You're overreacting. It was a couple kisses. After three years, (Y/N), things happen."

"Not to me, they don't! GET OUT!" You growled.

"And go where (Y/N)?!"

"TO HELL. Get out of here! Go back to fucking Madeleine!" You reached for your display samurai sword on the wall and pointed it at him.

"What, are you gonna fucking stab me, (Y/N)? I'm not leaving until we talk this through."

"Fuck you! Fuck you!" You cried and swung the sword around erratically causing Stephen to back off abruptly, he had to cast a spell which transformed the sword into butterflies to prevent you from hurting yourself.

"FINE. I will leave! I can't bear another fucking second with you!" You swiped your keys and a coat and jogged towards your car on the driveway but Stephen grabbed your wrist and yanked you back. It was the first time he’d laid a hand on you out of anger.

"Get your hands off me,” you hissed. “Or you’ll regret it.”

"No." He replied in resolute baring his teeth. He knows you’re hurt, and he knows you hate him right now, but you have to understand how much you mean to him and how everything that happened was not his intention—because the alternative is unacceptable. It just is. He refuse to accept that this is it.

"Fine." You kneed him in the balls. Hard. Stephen released his hold on you and doubled over in pain. Without wasting any more time. You got in your car and reversed back out of the driveway with a screech.

"(Y/N)! Come back here!!" Stephen shouted, sucking up the pain in his loins to run after your car.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

The storm was relentless, and unforgiving. Giant dark clouds loomed over the night sky, but they too were barely visible in the storm. Darkness surrounded them, an abyss.

The rain was pouring down hard and fast like never ending bullets being fired from a gun covering the windshield, the street lights were blurred dots passing by the side of the car as you drove by. The engine roared loudly like a Lion signalling its location to the rest of its group. As the windshield wipers pushed the water away you saw, even though for a split second, the long and empty road that seemed as if it went on forever, before the rain covered the windshield once more.

Reality yanked you back into the present with jarring force. You bent over double the steering wheel, chest heaving, tears streaming down your face. Huge, heaving sobs, the kind that made your nose all snotty and your stomach hurt. Thick, salty rivulets ran down your cheeks and dripped off your chin onto the floor.

Your phone begins to ring on your coat pocket. You shifted your gaze away from the road and tried to reach your phone which was on the passenger seat. Your hand slipped from the wheel, sending the car sharply swerving to the left. At that moment, the roaring of the engine and the sound of the rain hitting the windshield went soft, everything played out in slow motion as the car rolled onto its roof and continued, almost over again onto the drivers side, and then with a crunch, the windshield cracking but not breaking, the car rolled back onto the roof, finally slamming forward, the heavy engine pulled the front of the car down, sliding further into a small embankment until the car settled, diagonally balanced on the front of the roof and the hood.

You freed yourself from the seat with the intent to crawl out onto the road even though your vision was a little bit hazy. The driver-side door was not an escape. Smashed from the impact, the window was spider-webbed with cracks but still in place. You turned to the passenger-side door and it looked undamaged, at least from the inside. You twisted and crawled toward it, pulling on the passenger seat until you got your hands on the handle. It won’t open! You slammed your hand on the door again and again. You saw the door was locked. You popped the lock with your thumb, and then used the handle and it opened.

You pushed hard and it opened a bit more. Struggling to get out without using your injured left arm, you wriggled out of the door onto the dirt and bushes.

Once you got out of the car, you gathered the strength to get up and began to walk back, limping. There was no one to help you on an empty road so you’ll find it yourself. Due to the heaviness of the rain, and the shock of the pain in your head overwhelmed all your senses, you were unaware that you were losing blood. Somehow you made it nearly two kilometres before collapsing on the ground.

All you could do was lay there on the grass, in the middle of a ditch, on a long road, staring up at the glowing winter sky. You couldn’t get up anymore. You couldn’t scream. There was no one in sight. It was just you and the stars. The last thing you saw was Stephen’s face, terrified, his hand reaching out to you calling your name before everything turned to black.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Once in the ICU, he seemed even more frightened than before, seeing you with tubes and lines attached to you to keep you alive was the last thing he wanted. Stephen held your hand tightly and begged for you to hang on. Your parents had to fly back to the country early after hearing about your accident.

"Doctor Strange. . . there's a woman here insisting to see you."

Stephen turns around and sees the woman that was the centre of your arguments. Stephen shot up and glared at her, "You got some nerve stepping foot in here."

"Stephen I'm so sorry I came onto you that night—I was drunk, I wasn't thinking clearly. I didn’t know–"

"I don't want to hear it. This is all your fault. Get out."

"I'm sorry, I just came to pay my respect—" She found the courage and stepped forward to give him the flowers.

"Pay your respects? My girlfriend is not dead."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"Get out." He whispered and when she just stood there, he erupted, "I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT!" He threw the flowers back at her like a baseball pitcher, then shoved her out of the room heartlessly.

Male nurses rushed towards Stephen as he lashed out, holding him back, "Sir, calm down."

"Don't you dare show your face to me again you fucking whore!" He screamed so harsh that his throat feels as if it’s ripping apart. Stephen thrashed against the two male nurses holding him back, eyes red with anger, "I'll fucking kill you if you do!"

"Ma'am please leave!" The nurse urged Madeleine to go, "Right now!"

"Sir! Don't make us call security." The nurse threatened Stephen.

"I'm calm! I'm calm!" Stephen yanked his arm out of the nurse's grip and stormed outside to get some air.

"Go out and get some air Doctor, you haven't left her side for over twelve hours."

Stephen straightened his top and stormed out of the ward. After filling his stomach and drinking his third cup of coffee, he goes back to the ward. His chest constricted when he heard the rapid beeping of the alarm, the all too familiar sound of emergency. Staff ran with the resus trolley, the ECG machine.

“Doctor Evans, room 212, immediately, room 212.”

“Get a resus unit in here now nurse, how the hell did her stats drop so fast? She was doing well earlier.”

“She’s asystole doctor.”

“5 of epi, nurse, continue CPR, where’s that resus unit?”

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Stephen could sense the eeriness in the air, it pierced the back of his neck like a sharp knife. The sound of people talking around him slowly fizzled into nothing but white noise. A cold drop of water fell directly onto his forehead and slid down like a cube of ice. Everyone had pulled out their umbrellas but he just stood there, frozen, surrounded by them.

He wanted to cry but tears were stuck in his eyes, he wanted to shout but he couldn’t swallow the gulp of fact that he now has to face, so he was numb, with eyes filled with seas of tears but never falling. He couldn’t forget the variety of smells that were in the air. Odours of burnt rubber, scorched metal, and freshly cut vegetation were pungent and strong, it happened to him too.

He stood there surrounded by the darkness, being engulfed by it, drowning in it, as if it were grabbing him and pulling him with all its might, and he could not escape its grasp. Stephen looked at the light oak wood coffin slowly being lowered into the ground, which inside, housed what remained of you and the unborn child. Voices in his head screamed. The voice of your mother when she told him it was his fault. The sight of her leaning into the casket—the same one he was too guilty to look into—tears streaming down her face. As your mother stared into the casket of her daughter.

"I'm sorry—I'm so so sorry." Stephen whispered and left the flowers he knew you loved beside your tombstone, he saw your parents wailing at the corner of his eye, Froyo laying down at their feet with his ears drooped. He hated every moment of the funeral because deep down, he knew that this was his fault. All this grief and sorrow that he and others are facing are because of him. He knew that if only he went to dinner with you—none of this would have happened; the argument, you running away. This was a pain that no time can reduce, he would have to deal with the shroud of guilt placed over him and regret his actions for the rest of his life.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Stephen! Stephen! Stop this at once! You'll cause an incursion and you'll be corrupted!! Wong's voices echoed in his head.

Sorry Wong but I just can't accept it. I need to see her again and this is the only way.

Covered in beads of cold sweats, Stephen woke up panting and his heart racing, hand over the centre of his chest, the pain he was feeling in his heart still lingered. He looked around the room, confused, unsure his surroundings were real. He looked at the space next to him where he expect you to be but was empty. Stephen rolled out of bed in a panic, not bothering to put on a shirt and ran out of the room.

He rushed downstairs, and entered every room in search of you. When he arrived in the kitchen he saw you humming as you flipped pancakes.

Then out of nowhere, he puts his arms around you and embraces your smaller frame tightly against his broad chest. Stephen plants kisses on your shoulders. You flinch, feeling ticklish, "Good morning to you too, Mister."

"It's Doctor."

"Okay, Mister Doctor."

"Very funny."

You giggled and pivoted around in his arms to face him. You touch his shoulders and feel how tense he is. Like he's holding something in. The smile faded from your face when you saw the sad look in his eyes. "Baby, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

He shakes his head and barely even whispers a 'no.' He brings his other hand up to yours, which is still gripping his shoulder. He squeezes both of his hands around yours desperately, then tilts his face toward his shoulder. He thought he was never going to see you again, yet here you are—in the flesh. Breathing, existing. . .living. He kisses the top of your hand, and you feel a tear fall against your skin.

"Why are you crying?" You quickly turned off the stove and then cupped his face between your hands. Your thumb brushing off the tears that were dripping down his cheeks, "Stephen?"

He allowed himself to sink into your comforting embrace and took an inhale, he stared into your eyes deeply with his tear soaked eyes, as if it was the last time he was going to see it. A sob breaks free from his chest, and reaches forward and presses his lips to yours.

You pull away after one long kiss, "Stephen, say something. You're scaring me."

"I just—I had a dream that I lost you and when I woke up without you by my side I panicked." Stephen's voice turned raspy, you'd never seen him so in distress that it hurts to even look at him like this, "I just—I love you so damn much. I don’t want to ever lose you, losing you would be losing my life. I can handle a good beating or–or being stabbed but the thought of losing you is something I can't handle."

A small smile twitched in your lips, "Be still, my love. I'm not going anywhere, look at me." You tilt your head to connect with his eyes, "You’re stuck with my goofy butt for the rest of your life, no force in this universe can take me away from you. Not even death—because I'll haunt you down if you try to replace me."

Stephen laughs at your threat and finally you feel his shoulders relax, "Me? Replace you? That's absurd."

"You want to know what else is absurd?" You asked him.

"What?"

"I woke up this morning and suddenly wanted to eat bananas. So I made banana pancakes." You chirped with a tight lipped smile.

"That is absurd. . . You hate bananas." He said as-a-matter-of-factly.

You nodded and turned again to face the stove this time to preheat the now cold pan.

"(Y/N). . . Are you hiding something from me?" He asked quizzically, eyes narrowing out of suspicion.

"No~ I don't know what you're talking about." You sang and shrugged.

"Are you carrying something?" He trailed off, "Maybe, something like. . .a baby?"

You gasped, "How did you know?! Are you psychic now too?" Stephen gives you a look, "Oh. Your dream?"

Stephen nodded.

"Well? Say something? Are you happy? Sad? What kind of expression is that?"

Stephen slowly cracks a smile and picks you up by the waist, spinning you around. You screamed and laughed, asking for him to put you down, "I'm over the moon! Let's get married."

"What?" You swallow hard and slowly look up at his face.

"Marry me."

"Stephen, we're already married." You laugh and slapped his chest teasingly, "What's gotten into you?" You shake your head and pull yourself away from him to continue cooking pancakes.

"Nothing—I'm fine. Perfectly fine. I'm right where I'm supposed to be."

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