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machiavellli · 5 months

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Some Lorenzo Berkshire headcanons˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Notes: after a month I made them. I am truly sorry, I am the ceo of procrastination. But I had so much fun writing those though, because Lorenzo is my silly lovely boy, I wanna hug him so bad, he too precious. And this song, reminds me of him so bad, like every time I listen to it, my mind immediately jumps to him.

Honestly I got a bit carried away, I wanted to cover maybe other parts, like how he is as a boyfriend, but well-. You read it and of course you can tell me what you think after :)

Pairing: Lorenzo Berkshire x reader

Infos: pretty much just fluff, possible dramatic scene, no use of y/n, Lorenzo being cute, mutual pinning, English is not my first language (please if you find any mistake report them to me!).

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Lorenzo Berkshire, the most precious slytherin boy:

You two first met when you were just children because of your families

And I don’t know about you, but I used to despise boys so much when I was little, until I was seven (or perhaps even eight), so I kinda imagine your first meeting to be not that charming.

Like little Enzo panicking because he can’t understand what he did wrong, why this little girl is making such a disgusted face for him

But as you two grow more comfortable around each other, he becomes your best boy friend.

You two have many chances to see each other during your childhood and you always tried to make the best out of each encounter.

The type of kids that would cry when they have to separate after playing all day together.

And also the type of children that would definitely try to pull a prank on little Draco, just for them to get chased down by Lucius Malfoy himself after and cry frightened.

But something inside you two changes when you both are forced into your first ballroom dancing class (I headcanon that all the high-ranking families in the magical society enjoy hosting elegant dinners and balls, so follow me on this)

The proximity between you two, the touch of her hand, totally make little Enzo go all flushed.

Therefore, that soft innocent crush in the heart of the two children starts to blossom.

You drew hearts next to his name in your diary, imprisoning your feelings at the edge of a paper too scared to burn at the sight of the light, too scared to show this growing affection.

Little Enzo would sometimes pick a flower from his garden, trying to build some courage in himself for giving it to you. But that never happens.

When you get to Hogwarts he is your rock.

Perhaps if you an introvert he is the one introducing you to people or literally bringing you inside a friend group.

Ever heard of the trope “extrovert adopts an introvert”? Like that I mean.

Anyway, the crush is still there, of course, but none of you dare to even consider talking about it. Because no one has the guts to risk losing their favorite person.

Lorenzo is very cheerful, a ray of sunshine, and as he grows more people start to notice. And that’s a problem.

You are jealous, terribly.

Seeing those girls approaching him, giggling like infants, even when you are right at his side, hurts you.

He always refuse them politely and you smile in you mind.

Lorenzo is such a gentleman and everybody knows it.

Always giving you his arm while walking, opening doors,

moving chairs,

asking “how did you sleep darling?” or “have you eaten today dear?”

hugging you every time you see each other,

Offering his jacket to you as soon as he notice that it is becoming a little cold

Listening you ramble for hours about your favorite subject or a book you just read, always with that delicious little smile painted on his face.

And if he finds you crying for whatever reason he will take you into his arms immediately.

Listening to you explain through your tears what happened, while one hand strokes your hair gently and the other your back.

Seeing you hurt has an effect on him, definitely will let a couple of tears slip while you can’t see him.

Lorenzo is an empath, he will understand you and he will comfort you.

Also I feel like his love language is debatable, but he will definitely like to touch you, to feel your presence concretely.

Even if you two are not together he will often try to pull out an arm around your shoulders, always respecting your decision to refuse it and your personal vital space though.

Perhaps, sometimes, as you are all focused making your pen run during your studies session, he will look at your hand, wishing to be able to linger over it without an explanation.

He is also jealous, of course, because no one knows how desperate he is for you, how he feels blinded by how beautiful you have grown.

He feels his eyes and heart burning when a guy at a party tries to hit on you.

The golden retriever energy is suddenly gone and Theo will pull out a worried look for his friend.

But you aren’t his, how stupid it is of him to ache himself for something he never had.

After another scene of this kind, Theo decides to ask him about this totally not subtle behavior of his. (You already know that I headcanon Enzo and Theo to be best buddies shhh)

It takes a while for him to confess, but either for the tipsy state or the exhaustion that this situation has brought to him, he confess.

After years, let’s say it happens in the 6th year, he finally tells someone, felling already a bit lighter.

Theo looks at him, trying to not laugh, but miserably fails: “mate do you need glasses?”

And then he explains to him that anyone can see that something is going on between the two.

That you look at him like he is the sun lighting your existence and so does he with you.

Perhaps it is time to act now, to not fear, to be brave.

He won’t ask you directly though, I see him more prone to writing down a letter to you

Pouring on paper his feelings, how exceptionally well you make him feel, in conclusion, his love for you.

The angel sent from above that you are in his eyes, that he always had and always will e have at his side if he seals with ink his emotions.

Perhaps it could look something like this:

My Dearest,

In the quiet corners of my soul, I've carried a secret for what feels like an eternity, my heart dances to the rhythm of your name. Amidst youthful dreams and uncertain tomorrows, your laughter echoes in my thoughts, painting vivid hues in the canvas of my days. With each passing day, your radiance grows, illuminating the path of my existence. Today, in this moment of bravery, perhaps taken by a Gryffindor spirit, I dare to confess what has long lingered unspoken: I adore you beyond measure.

Yours sincerely,

Lorenzo

And do we want the realization dramatic? Of course, is that even a question?

You recive his letter in a moment of privacy, perhaps in a quiet corner of the library while you are studying.

A first year approach you and quickly says “It is from Lorenzo Berkshire, he wants to know what you think then” before running away.

You look at the letter puzzled, looking at the delicate handwriting in which your initials are written on the outside.

You open the letter and everything just stops.

Only your eyes move, running desperately over and over again on the words overflowed by pure love.

How is it that you never noticed?

How is it that someone can love you so deeply?

The clock has continued its tireless dance for too long and you finally had enough.

There it won’t be peace until you found him.

An exceptional energy, filled with excitement, happiness and love, takes over you.

You suddenly snap, lifting yourself up from your cozy spot, leaving everything behind, because your real everything is in front of you.

The sound of your shoes, tirelessly beating against the hard floor as you run, is all you can hear.

People send concerned look in your way as you brush not so cordially their shoulder, trying to make your way to your lover.

The halls are full, the rain is once again pouring outside, you don’t even know where you are going, simply drove by the now fully ignited sentiment.

Lorenzo is repaired outside in the viaduct courtyard, waiting for his friends to be done with their smoking when he sees you.

You, bravely exiting the library annex, making your way to the viaduct bridge, looking left and right, looking for him.

Without a word to the others he starts running in your direction, the rain quickly wetting him entirely.

You are now both running, from opposite side of the bridge, people gathering around looking as the scene consume before them.

It is cold,

It is wet,

The nature is gray under the fog.

But two hearts beat ferociously, desperately trying to approach the other.

Your drenched hair flows with your movement, hands in a fist, your vision lightly blurred.

And in the middle of the bridge he catches you.

An hug full of every word neglect for so long.

He spins you around for has many years he had to wait for this, before he lets you go, moving his hands to cup your face gently as the rain harshly pours on you.

Eyes so desperate to crawl into the other’s spirit.

“I sense my letter has reached you” he will say smiling like an idiot drunk on love

You giggle, like the kids you used to be.

Because you have known each other for a lifetime, but only now he has found you.

“My dear, I love you” he will say before kissing you, warming your body, lighting your existence.

Everything faded then, from the cheers of the other students looking at the theatrical scene, to the screams of the various professor trying to pull you inside.

Your heart finally funded his.

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I hope you liked them🫶✨

my ask box is open btw!

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tyblackthornfrog · 28 days

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Imogen Herondale being the only one who recognized Jace's birthmark was so significant to me, because she just knew. She hardly denied it. She was the first person who knew Jace was a Herondale and she only told him that his dad(Stephen) would be proud of him. Because although he might find out his true heritage later, he might not get to hear those words from any of his actual relatives if Imogen died, and he would consider others are lying. That was more important.

on my tmi reread I actually cried during that moment. I was so excited for it and it left me thinking about Imogen for longer than normal. She lived most of her life grieving and ice-cold because her family had been ruined. She was alone and only in her final moments she got to know that the Herondale name will live on after her. She got to look at her grandson properly. I can't imagine the regret she must've felt when she realized she'd been against him the whole time, not caring one bit about him.

#i can't do this right now #i hated her at first but i respect her sm now #imogen the woman that you are #imogen herondale #tsc #cassandra clare #the shadowhunter chronicles #jace herondale #jace wayland #the mortal instruments #city of bones #city of ashes #city of glass #stephen herondale #celine herondale #clary fairchild

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silent-stories · 1 year

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐔𝐓

Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader

Summary: Eddie likes the girl at the Hideout, one night, he finally talks to her.

Warnings: underage drinking, Eddie being cute and clumsy

The Hideout was never crowded, and usually the only ones who stayed until it closed were four old drunks and someone who had nothing better to do than spend the night listening to a band of four outcasts play.

Once one of them had even yelled at them that if they didn't stop their noise pollution he would have called the police. Not nice.

The lights in the room were often dimmed, creating a certain atmosphere that Eddie particularly liked and the sound of his shoes or boots against the wooden floor always reminded him of what he had imagined when he read the scenes set in the taverns of the Lord of the Rings.

Eddie knew that continuing to play there when hardly anyone listened or cared about them was pointless and they certainly weren't going to be famous by keeping doing that but he had a good reason to stay.

You were always there.

You were always there, behind the counter, making a drink or opening a bottle of beer looking bored like your only coworker, a girl who must have been around your age. Sometimes you read a few pages of a book and Eddie found that extremely attractive but he would never had the courage to tell anyone.

The owner of the Hideout was your uncle and that was probably the only reason you worked there (you never seemed too excited to spend the night there).

Eddie had never talked to you but he liked to look at you from his table and try to catch some details to get to know you better. In the months that his band had played there he had only understood that: you enjoyed beer (it was the only thing you drank there), the books you often brought therr were by Stephen King so you must have liked the horror genre and, strangely, unexpectedly and surprisingly you seemed to like how his band played.

Eddie thought that not only because every time they played you put down your book and looked up at the stage with a slight, almost invisible smile on your lips but also because every time they finished playing you offered the whole band a drink.

Your uncle certainly didn't tell you to do it and they never asked you to, but you always did, even if it was usually just a glass of some cheap liquor for each of them.

Eddie remembered the first time you did that, after they stopped playing without getting any applause and sat down at a table for a few minutes with the intention of leaving soon like they usually did.

You had arrived at their table with four glasses and a bottle of Jack Daniels.

"Mh... we didn't order anything." Gareth had said looking up at you, probably worried by the fact that he didn't have any money with him.

"It's okay. It's on the house." You said by pouring the liquid into the glasses. "My uncle told me you don't even get paid to play here so...that's all I can do for you."

Eddie, like his friends, thanked you, you smiled, and he felt like he might pass out.

"Have a good night, guys." You had grabbed the bottle, your rings clinked against the glass, and then you had taken a few steps back to the bar.

After a few seconds, however, you had stopped. "I'll pretend you're all over twenty-one okay? Don't tell my uncle and don't spread the word or we'll all get in trouble."

Eddie had chuckled, he was the only one not doing something illegal for once.

After that night, you always brought them a drink after each of their "shows".

Eddie had never really talked to you, you just exchange a few "hey", "hi", "thank you" and "you're welcome".

"When are you going to ask her out?"

"What?" Eddie nearly spat out his drink.

"Y/N. When are you going to ask her out?" Gareth repeated, sitting across from Eddie at their usual table.

Y/N. Eddie knew your name well because he'd heard your uncle call you that one of the few nights he'd shown up there a few months ago and never forgot it.

"Mh... why should I?" Eddie asked looking at the bottom of his glass trying to avoid the drummer's gaze.

"Because you like her and that's what people usually do when they like someone?"

"I don't like her!"

"Okay. Either you think I'm stupid or you are stupid."

"Hey!"

"So?"

"I don't like her." He repeated.

"So it's okay if I ask her out?" Gareth asked, suddenly standing up.

Eddie jumped up causing his friend to raise his eyebrows, as if to say "I told you so".

"Ah! I knew it!" Gareth laughed before falling back into his chair.

Eddie snorted, his gaze meeting your figure behind the counter.

"Dude, at least go talk to her. This is getting exhausting." Jeff butted into the conversation.

Eddie rolled his eyes.

"If you don't go talk to her now, we'll drag you to her and I don't know how much she'll like you after that." Jeff added with a smirk.

Eddie huffed again but this time he finally got up from his chair, his feet moving towards you.

"I don't understand why we still let them play here if they clearly suck." Rachel snorted as she sat down on a stool behind the counter, next to you and twisted a strand of hair between her fingers and scrutinized it as if she were looking for split ends.

That night at the Hideout there were few people as almost every other night, two men were playing cards in a corner of the room, an old man was drinking from a bottle on the opposite side, the neon light above his head flickered from time to time, in the table near him two young men were getting ready to leave, probably on their way home to their families.

In their usual place Corrored Coffin was chatting and drinking after their "show".

"Oh c'mon. They don't suck." You retorted placing your book on the table.

Your coworker raised her eyebrows. "Really? You like that stuff?"

Your gaze instinctively rested on the guitarist, whose back and curly hair you could see from where you were sitting.

"They're good. They have potential and I think they deserve more recognition."

"Pff" She snorted, obviously not agreeing with your attempt to defend the band. "Jason says they're geeks. One of them is repeating his last year of high school for the third time. Third time, can you imagine? He must be really dumb. And there's a rumor that he has a cult or something."

"Ew."

"See? I told you so."

"No. The "ew" was for Jason. Are you still hanging out with that guy?"

Rachel opened her mouth, as if in shock. "I am, actually. Are you jealous by any chance?"

You laughed at the stupidity of her question. "Jason, of all the people in the world, is the person I'm least jealous of. Trust me."

"I'm not just hanging out with him, I'm dating him. I started talking to him during chemistry and it turns out…we have chemistry." She laughed at her own joke.

"Rachel, please. I just ate, I might throw up."

She rolled her eyes. "Ugh…you're so boring. Just because you never like anyone doesn't mean you should hate any guy I'm dating."

"It's not true that I never like anyone." You muttered, your gaze landing again on the table where the band was chatting.

"God, don't look at them." She commented.

"Is there anything you don't complain about?" You huffed.

Rachel grabbed the bottle you were drinking from off the table to take a sip of beer, knocking your book to the floor on accident.

She bent down to pick it up, then turned it over in her hands and looked at the creature drawn on the cover.

With a disgusted face, she rested it next to you. "God, you'll end up like them, worshipping the devil."

You crossed your arms over your chest. "I'll say it again. Is there anything you don't complain about?"

Rachel was about to retort but when her gaze fell behind you, somewhere in the club, her expression suddenly changed. "Jesus, he's coming here. I think I'll go to the bathroom for a moment."

Rachel disappeared into the room behind you before you knew it. "Wait, who..."

When you turned around and found yourself face to face with Eddie, standing in front of the counter that separated you two, you nearly gasped.

"Whoa, hey. I didn't mean to scare you." He raised his hands slightly as if to show he meant you no harm.

"Oh, no, you didn't scare me. It takes a lot more to scare me. You just... surprised me. You never came to the counter." You said leaning on the table and observing him closely for the first time.

His curls were a bit messy, his leather jacket was still the same, in his Airon Maiden shirt there was a small hole near the collar and the rings on his hands glittered under the light above the counter.

He looked at you with his big chocolate brown eyes as if, despite what he had just said, he was the more scared of the two and you wondered why.

After a moment, he finally spoke. "So... do you come here often?"

You looked at him quizzically and maybe that's what made him start to stutter and panic a little as he went on talking.

"I mean, no. That's a stupid question. Of course you come here often, you work here. I wanted to ask if... you work here often. No, wait.... that's another stupid question, of course you work here often: it's the your job. I just wanted to…you know what? Forget it. Maybe I'd better go."

For a cult leader or whatever they said he was, he was pretty clumsy. Especially with you.

"No no no. Wait." You leaned over to the counter to grab his hand and stop him from his sudden escape, it was soft and warm in yours.

You chuckled as he turned to you in surprise, staring at you like a puppy who doesn't understand what's going on.

He's pretty, you thought. Not beautiful, maybe. He's not the man all the girls turn to look on the street when he walks.

But he's different and he has such pretty eyes.

"Stay?" It was a question, a proposition, something you wished he was going to do.

Slowly, he sat down at one of the stools and you left his hand.

"Yeah. I work here every night, even when your band isn't here." You answered his sort of question, resting one arm on the table and your head on your hand.

"Cool." He simply said, the ghost of a smile was on his lips now.

"Meh, not really. But it's better when you guys are here." You nodded towards the table where the rest of the band sat.

This time, a real smile appeared on Eddie's face, dimples appeared on his cheeks and wrinkles around his eyes.

Yeah, definitely cute.

"So you like us." He said.

"You are not bad."

"Well, that's the best compliment we've gotten in weeks. I could almost call you our first and only fan." He brought a hand to her heart in a dramatic way, the initial embarrassment completely gone.

"Take it easy Van Halen. I just said you're not bad." You laughed, causing him to chuckle.

"Okay, I'll take that."

You stayed to talk to Eddie for a few more minutes even if it seemed like only seconds, the rest of the people in the club had all already left by that moment and the sky outside was completely black and moonless.

"Hey, time to close." Rachel's voice from behind you distracted you from your conversation with Eddie.

You looked at the clock on the wall, it said three in the morning.

Eddie got up. "I tell the guys it's time to go."

You nodded, but you were sorry to stop spending time with him.

"So...will I see you tomorrow night?" He asked with a hopeful tone in his voice.

"I already told you, I come here often." You laughed, repeating his words.

"Yeah, right." He smiled. "See you tomorrow then."

"Good night, Eddie."

After a bit, the band left and you couldn't help but follow Eddie's figure in the parking lot in front of the Hideout with your gaze.

"Don't tell me you like that weirdo." Rachel commented as she grabbed her purse.

You continued to stare through the dirty glass at Eddie's van disappearing into the distance.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I do."

In my head this was the beginning of a possible mini-series but I don't think I liked it enough to continue it. Let me know what you think.

Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat @michaelfuckinglangdon

#eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fluff

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ironstrange1991 · 6 months

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You're The Only Good Thing In My Life

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: It's Stephen and Y/n's last night of vacation and she decides to claim him as hers before give him back to the world.

Word Count: 4,2k

Warnings: SMUT: unprotected p n v sex, oral with male and female receiving, creampie and cum eating. There is also a bit of jealousy implied.

A/N: This fic was inspired entirely by the song of the same name by the band Cigarretes After Sex. For total immersion I highly recommend listening to it. It's absurdly romantic, a bit sad (?), but very smuty. Hope you like it and have a nice reading.

There were few things in the world that truly left you in awe. One of them was Stephen, of course. The Eifel Tower, the mountains of the Scottish Highlands and the beach at night.

You could stay all night watching the waves hitting the shore, the foam forming on the sand, the smell of the sea air. Of course, all this was very beautiful in daylight when the sea reflected the blue of the sky and the waters shone like liquid sapphire, but at night the sea was endless and mysterious. The blue turned into black crowned by layers of gray foam.

There was nothing more beautiful than that, unless there was a storm on the way. The night sky clear with storm clouds that brings lightning and the sound of thunder in the distance announcing the arrival of heavy rain. That was without a shadow of a doubt one of the most beautiful things you could imagine and it was also the scene in front of you as you sat on the steps in the backyard of the house that Stephen had rented for you to spend a few days on vacation.

After you fought with him because he wasn't paying attention to you, he surrendered and decided to redeem himself with the indecent proposal of taking you to the beach and obviously you accepted.

It was seven days where you barely left the house. That's when you got out of bed. Stephen made sure the house was stocked with everything you needed and even when you wanted something that wasn't there, he always made sure to get it for you within a minute. Of course, being a sorcerer and traveling through portals helped with the task.

But of course you couldn't complain. You had the man you loved by your side all the time and you didn't need to share him with Wong or those annoying spell books. You could spend the whole day curled up in bed or sprawled on the sofa, you could swim in the sea, make love whenever you wanted and as often as you wanted. There in that house you were sure you had experienced paradise and you never wanted to leave.

Yet there you were sitting on the stairs, your bare feet in the sand, listening to the sound of the waves and watching the storm brewing and the lightning cutting across the sky and your chest was heavy knowing that you would have to leave the next morning and return to the reality of your work, as well as sharing Stephen with all the tasks he needed to do for Wong, for the Avengers and for the world.

For a whole week Stephen was just yours and now you needed to give him back.

Of course he could see you were sad. You had been lively and talkative all week and particularly that night you were sitting there quietly alone. You wanted to shake that feeling away, but it wasn't exactly an easy thing. However, when you heard the sound of footsteps approaching and felt Stephen sitting on the step behind you and pulling you to lean against his chest, you sighed, letting yourself be comforted by the only person capable of comforting you.

You closed your eyes for a second, feeling him kiss the top of your head, but you remained silent.

"A storm is coming." He said in your ear, making a point of rubbing his goatee against the back of your neck and as expected, your entire body tingled and he let out a satisfied hum.

"This always works." He pointed out, running his hands through your hair and holding it in a ponytail and then brushing his chin against your skin again. You shivered at the sensation and let out a small chuckle.

"May I ask what you're thinking?" His voice sounded low.

"That I love the beach at night."

"Hmm."

"And that I don't want to leave."

He held you in his arms and something in that hug made you feel that he shared with you that desire to stay there, just the two of you together, free from all routine worries.

"You know we can come back whenever we want." He promised.

"But you can never take a vacation. There's always something you need to do."

He stroke your hair gently and brought his nose closer breathing in your scent. He continued stroking your hair, but didn't say anything.

"What's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?" You asked, genuinely curious as you watched the night sea.

"You naked in my bed." He teased making you giggle.

"I'm serious, Stephen."

"What makes you think I'm not?"

You chuckled "Okay. Besides that."

He thought for a minute and then hummed to himself as if remembering something.

"The first time I went to Kamar Taj the Ancient One showed me things I had no idea could exist. I was terrified, but those images never left my mind."

"Were they beautiful?"

"Scary, but very beautiful."

You nodded thinking for a second. "I think this is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." You pointed to the sea in front of you. "Like this."

"You mean it's not me?" He teased and you grabbed his hand that was firmly around your waist and brought it to your mouth and gave it a small kiss before leaning your face into his palm closing your eyes and confessing.

"You're the only good thing in my life."

He sighed, cupping your cheek and making you turn to look at him. When you did, his eyes were like fire, darkened by what you couldn't tell if it was desire, love, or a combination of the two.

"I promise I won't let work come between us again. I love you. I've never loved anyone but you and I never will."

"Hmm. That's lovely, but as much as I'd love to believe, you can't promise that, Stephen. You're Doctor Strange, the world needs you all the time."

He shook his head. "I don't care. You're the only one that really matters to me."

You smiled, knowing full well that things were more complicated than that, but you decided to let it that way even if just for the night.

You let yourself be pulled towards his lips, surrendering to his hungry kiss and as if the universe was conspiring with you, a thunder resounded louder than the others and the lights went out plunging you both into the gloom of the night lit only by the constant lightning.

Stephen chuckled on your lips and you felt your entire body tingle at the sound. That was the effect he had on you.

"We should go inside before it starts raining." He suggested nibbling your lip, but you shook your head getting up, hiking up your dress to straddle him, sitting back on his lap and wrapping your arms around his shoulders, kissing him again, much harder this time, while grinding yourself in him.

Stephen wrapped you in his arms, surrendering to the kiss with a hum.

"I want you to take me, Stephen. Make me yours."

He smirked glancing at you. "Here on these stairs? What if someone sees us?"

You hummed while giving small kisses on his neck and making his skin prickle.

"There's no one around and to be honest I don't care at all. I just want to be yours."

You lowered your lips to his bare chest, kissing and nibbling, sucking on the skin to mark him. Inhaling his delicious scent. Between your legs, you could feel him hardening. The delicate fabric of your panties and his shorts were the only thing stopping you.

Stephen lolled his head back, sighing, but his grip tightened on your waist. "Oh sweetheart" He moaned "You always get what you want from me, don't you?" He held your chin making you look at him.

"It must be because you think I'm adorable." You smiled proudly feeling his cock twitching beneath you. You were always surprised by how quickly you could get Stephen into that state.

"You have no idea." His lips searched for yours again and he started to move you harder on his lap. His kiss becoming more and more desperate as his desire increased, making him impatient.

"I need to be inside you." He asked between your lips.

You stood up, reluctant to separate from him for even a second. Stephen pulled down the shorts he was wearing and kicked them to the side. You pulled down your panties and let them fall and pool around your ankles, kicking them next to his shorts and Stephen grabbed your hand pulling you back closer to him.

You straddled him and raised your arms for him to take off your dress. The damp wind of the stormy night made your skin prickle and your nipples harden. Stephen grabbed one of them and twisted the other with his fingers, making you whimper and grab a handful of his hair. Your hips moving back and forth making his cock poke into your folds and giving you both just a glimpse of relief.

When he got tired of playing with your nipples, his lips moved up your collarbone, his beard scratching your skin deliciously. He stopped at a point just below your ear and sucked hard on the skin, marking you and making you let out a little moan. He brought one of his hands between you, finally touching you where you needed him the most. His heavy sigh showing his satisfaction at finding you absurdly wet for him.

You pulled him back to your lips as he entered you with two fingers. He moved them in and out slowly, teasing you and making you moan against his lips, feeling the familiar electricity course through your body as the desire increased.

You whimpered still between his lips and he hummed in response knowing full well what you wanted because it was exactly what he wanted too. He grabbed his cock and gave it a couple of jerks and patted your thigh. You raised your hips enough so he could direct his cock at your entrance, but first he ran the tip through your folds, smearing it with your abundant slick and only then placed it exactly where you wanted it.

When you let yourself sink into his dick you felt the delicious stretch that you craved so much. Stephen stretched you so perfectly, his cock felt like it was made especially for you and you never got tired of that feeling and never stopped being amazed at how he made you feel. As if making love to Stephen was the only thing in the world you were sure you were made for.

Stephen groaned at the sensation, grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling you back to his lips, kissing you with the characteristic desperation of when he gave himself over to his own pleasure. You had barely moved and he was already pulsing inside you, begging for his release. You leaned on his shoulders and began to slowly move up and down, gyrating your hips sensually and surrendering to your own pleasure. Stephen wrapped one arm around your waist and grabbed your ass cheek, squeezing it so hard you knew he would leave purple fingerprints on your skin.

"Fuck yes" He moaned making your whole body tingle. "You feel so good, sweetheart. You always feel so fucking good."

You let out a low hum, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling it lightly as the pleasure increased.

The thunder rumbled again and with it a fine rain began to fall, but you didn't care about it, in fact you received the cold drops with pleasure, as if they had some magical quality capable of making you even more eager for each other.

Stephen grabbed your ass cheeks with both hands and started helping you with the movements, thrusting up and moving you on top of him with more force and speed.

"Oh god, Stephen..." You moaned, lolling your head back and surrendering to the growing pleasure. Stephen took advantage of the fact that your breasts were on display for him and buried his face between them, nibbling and sucking on your skin. His groans and grunts getting louder and louder as he got closer to his release.

The rain intensified, washing you both with cold water and making you shiver and your hair stick to your back. Stephen's skin, however, was still as hot as before, he was always so warm, and the hot and cold sensation only added to your pleasure. Everything felt perfect, as if nature itself was blessing the love you were making. You closed your eyes, surrendering to the moment.

"Look at me, sweetheart." Stephen demanded. "I want to see when you cum on my cock. I know you're close. I can feel it."

You opened your eyes and bit your bottom lip. You loved knowing that Stephen had complete control over you. That he knew you so well to the point of recognizing each of the signs your body showed him.

"You're so fucking good, Stephen. Cock feels amazing." You praised feeling the knot tightening in your stomach.

Your movements became faster and equally clumsier, the sensuality giving way to the desperation of the search for the sweet release you craved so much. Stephen took complete control, moving you on top of him and thrusting up against your movements and you could both feel yourselves being dragged to the edge, and as the sensation grew dangerously close to unbearable, another sensation took hold of you with the same proportion, a love so great that it seemed like it would make your chest break in two. You doubted anyone could love someone more than you loved Stephen.

"Oh shit, sweetheart, I'm so close. Tell me you can feel it. Don't wanna finish before you."

You cupped his face between your hands, making him look at you and taking back control, putting more force on your hips and moving back and forth, letting the delicious contact of his pelvic bone and hair rubbing against your clit be the final trigger that would pull you into your ecstasy.

And without you needing to announce it, you came hard and the strong contraction of your walls squeezing his cock was enough to pull him along with you and when he finally got there he kissed you like never before, with a little desperation , but with a love so great that it didn't need to be verbalized, but he did it anyway, murmuring on your lips how much he loved you, how special you were, and how nothing in the world could take you away from him.

Your body was shaking on top of his and you didn't know if it was from the force of the orgasm, or the way you were feeling or simply because of the cold rain falling on you, but either way, Stephen wrapped you in his strong arms and carried you inside while outside the rain intensified.

The two of you ended up in the shower together, the hot water was welcomed by your cold skin and although you hated washing your hair at night, you didn't have much of a choice.

Stephen soaped himself quickly and took the lead, taking the opportunity to soap your back, being extra gentle while doing it and giving small kisses in the back of your neck.

"Do you think this will ever subside and we'll become a normal couple?" He asked surprising you. You turned to face him and let the hot water rinse the shampoo from your hair.

"And what would a normal couple be?" You asked, putting some shampoo in your hand and lathering his hair. You needed to stand on your tiptoes to reach his head and he could very well bend down, but instead he preferred to see you struggling because it was adorable. His words.

"You know, sex once a week, sometimes less. Good friends, but not so good lovers." He explained.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't ask yourself the same question sometimes, but you decided to be completely honest in your answer.

"I can't predict the future, but the way you made me feel out there..."

He waited for you to finish what you were saying, but you just pulled him forward, letting the water rinse his hair and dedicated yourself to applying conditioner to his hair and yours.

"What..." He insisted and you sighed cupping his cheek.

"I love you so much. Too much. Sometimes I feel this love crushing my chest or threatening to break it in two and it's a feeling so strong that I know I need to get it out of here and put it somewhere else otherwise I feel I'm going to explode. When we have sex it's like I'm putting my love in the right place. So, I don't see us having sex once a week because where would I put my love?"

You grimaced realizing the whole thing made much more sense in your head then when you said it out loud, but Stephen smiled. "You're adorable indeed, you know that?" He said pulling you to his lips and kissing you softly.

"You know you can place your love on me whenever you want, don't you?" He teased and you slapped his shoulder.

"Shut up! You were the one who asked."

"And I liked the answer." He defended himself.

You pulled him to your lips, kissing him harder this time, letting the water rinse off what was left of the conditioner, wrapping your arms around his neck and jumping into his lap, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Stephen barely had time to turn off the shower and you were already grinding yourself in him. Maybe that was what made him so crazy about you, you were insatiable and he was the perfect match for you.

He threw you on the bed and filled the room with countless candles he conjured. He lit them with a complicated gesture of his fingers lighting up the room, and then crawled over to you with a beautiful smile on his lips that made your heart flutter.

"What do I do with you, Y/n? So much fire!"

He ran his lips over your breasts and your collarbone, moving them up your neck and stopping at your chin, leaving you with your mouth open, waiting for the kiss that he maliciously denied.

"Be my firefighter." You rasped and he giggled right in your ear, the baritone making your entire body tingle.

"No, I don't want to put out this fire." He said biting your earlobe and making you swallow thickly and squeeze your thighs together.

"Tell me you love me.” He asked, his eyes fixed on yours, his hands running down your body, his fingertips ghosting your skin.

"Again?"

"Yes, again and again and again." He traced your neck and collarbone with the tip of his tongue and moved up to your chin, biting it.

"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you so much..." He interrupted you with a hungry kiss and his hand finally reached where you needed him most. Your legs spread scandalously for him and he dipped his fingers in your folds.

"Look at this! So fucking wet for me again."

You closed your eyes, delighting in the touch of his slender fingers. They penetrated you and you began to move your hips against his hand much to his delight.

"I want your mouth." You asked through gritted teeth, desire barely letting you think straight. "Please."

He nibbled on your lower lip and increased the movements of his fingers.

"Want me to eat you, uh?"

You swallowed thickly, “…and I want you in my mouth too.”

He hissed, putting his tongue in your mouth and sucking yours hard. "...So fucking dirty, sweetheart."

But you knew he loved everything about you, you both loved each other in equal measure.

He rolled to the side and turned so you had access to his cock and turned you on your side, putting his head between your legs and diving into your folds. You moaned loudly, but you were eager to take his cock in your hand and put it in your mouth, delighting in the sensation of sucking and being sucked. You doubted that there was anything better in the world.

One of Stephen's many qualities was that he, unlike many men, had no problem getting dirty between a woman's legs. On the contrary, he took pleasure in it. When he gave you oral, it wasn't just his mouth he used, he used his nose, his chin, his goatee. Everything he could use to give you maximum pleasure and that night it wasn’t different.

He sucked your entrance, licked your wet folds, nudged his nose to your clit and sucked your juices, spitting them back out, making a mess. He loved it as much as you did and when he finally started sucking your clit and penetrating you with his fingers, you felt your body becoming weak.

It was how Stephen made you feel most of the time, weak compared to the strength of the love you felt for him.

You used to be outrageously loud when Stephen was eating you, but all your moans were muffled by his cock in your mouth.

You loved Stephen’s cock and he knew it, he was very proud of it. The way you constantly sucked him made him lose control of his actions and you loved watching him get lost in his own pleasure knowing that you were responsible for making him feel so good.

You started by sucking his head and then ran your tongue down his entire length, leaving it completely wet with your saliva, just the way you liked it. Your hands gently massaged his balls, eliciting a muffled moan from him while you flicked your tongue in his frenulum, licking and sucking the special spot and making him squirm with pleasure, but at no point did he stop eating you, on the contrary, his pleasure only made him more eager to give you more pleasure and the thing worked perfectly.

When you finally started to actually suck him, the two of you were close and the wet sounds you made were so arousing combined with the sound of the rain that seemed to get heavier and heavier outside.

You took him out of your mouth to breathe and gave him a couple of jerks before going back to sucking him and this time you went all the way down letting him go to the back of your throat.

Stephen stopped the suction on your clit with a pop and moaned loudly.

"Fuck sweetheart, swallow my cock... gonna make me cum." He rasped giving your ass cheek a hard slap and resuming his work with even more desire.

His words only served to push you forward and even though your eyes were watering, you continued sucking him and fucking him with your mouth, feeling him pulse and start to spill into your mouth as his mouth made you see stars.

You came together in each other's mouths and you both rolled to the side, lying on your backs, trying to regulate your breathing and recover.

"I think we outdid ourselves tonight." He said impressed and you both giggled until you stopped and felt silent.

"I don't want to go home." You confessed, sitting down. Stephen had his head resting in his hands, the position leaving his biceps visible. He seemed like a god to you. You doubted that a man could be more beautiful than your boyfriend.

"I don't want to share you with the world. I want you to be mine alone."

He sat up and caressed your cheek, tucking a strand of your wet hair behind your ear gently.

"I'm yours. No matter how hard I work or what I have to do, at the end of the day all I want most is to come back to you."

"But it's not like being here." You pouted and he smiled reassuringly.

"Then we'll come back here as often as you want. I can arrange that. Ask Wong to take over some things for me, pass some tasks on to other masters."

"You promise?" You asked hopefully.

"I promise." He smiled and then remained silent for a minute, when he spoke again there was a certain emotion in his voice.

"You said something out there that made me think."

"What?"

He smiled "That I'm the only good thing in your life."

"You are."

He held your chin between his thumb and index finger. "You were the best thing that ever happened in my life, sweetheart."

He kissed you softly and continued "We were meant for each other, it just took us some time to find each other. But now that we're together, nothing will keep us apart. Definitely not my work."

You smiled "So you don't think we'll end up like those couples that only have sex once a week?" You teased making he chuckle.

"Never."

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 ;)

DOCTOR STRANGE MASTERLIST

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nothingenoughao3 · 28 days

Text

Why we wanna transition to Mad Scientist (or, revulsion and queerness in horror)

(Hi, @ash-eats-film! This is the thing I mentioned!)

Horror has a few baseline emotions it tries to inflict on the audience. This has been written about for decades, most famously by Stephen King, but the baseline elements most writers agree on are as follows.

Dread: Anxiety over what is about to happen

Terror: The fear of what is occurring right this second

Revulsion: Being forced to interact directly with what's happening right now

Black comedy: Being tricked into laughing at either the terror or the revulsion

Horror: The trauma response to what just happened

A great example of this can be seen in The Evil Dead II (YT link that doesn't include the full context, but does have the, uh, money shot). There's the dread of realizing there's something in the root cellar; the terror of when the Deadite pops up in the trapdoor; the combined revulsion and black comedy of Ash jumping on the Deadite's skull/the door, popping out its eyeball which shoots into Bobby Joe's mouth, and then the horror of what just went down rolling over Ash and his current companions.

Often, revulsion and black comedy go hand in hand. That's because they're tension relievers. The revolting thing becomes ridiculous, and you laugh at how ridiculous it is. This lets you settle down in the midst of the gore and death, just slightly, just enough to get through it... so the horror can fully set in for you, too, once it's over.

You also, often, question your own stability if you laugh in the middle of a gross-out horror scene: "Am I sick? Is there something wrong with me for laughing at X?" This is even worse if the villain starts laughing--now you're questioning whether you're IDing with the monster. Are you okay? Is something wrong with you?

Revulsion is often framed as the slutty member of the good, proper, morally-upright brigade of horror. We have a name for folks who seek out gross-out horror--they're gore-hounds, a term that is virtually always pejorative when applied to other people. We call certain types of horror "torture porn" or "gore porn", as though it is inherently sleazy and sexual to rely on this specific emotional reaction. (Note that we don't have "black comedy-porn", or "dread hounds", even though a dread hound sounds really fucking cool.)

Not to go off on a huge tangent, but I think the issue with media that overly relies on revulsion is that it's unbalanced, not that it's bad. A movie that's nothing but dread never has any emotional payoff. A movie that's nothing but terror never lets the audience relax back into their seats and, paradoxically, will become boring (imagine two hours of jumpscares).

So forth and so on: all aspects of horror rely on each other to survive. That includes scenes that make you go "Awww, sick" while nervously cackling.

Here's the thing: in previous generations, revulsion was similarly understood to be an essential part of horror, but what led to a revolted reaction was very different.

Lovecraft (boo this man! BOOOOO) understood the power of revulsion, which was the source of a lot of his strangest and most vivid descriptions. It was also the source of some of his most bigoted ideas working into his stories. The undercurrent of "non-WASPs are evil because they are repulsive" is as pervasive in his work as "the universe is incomprehensibly vast". You kind of can't get around that.

But there's another thing Lovecraft did to generate revulsion. He wrote a number of stories where an unhealthy focus on corpses, graveyards, graverobbing, and the like is, indirectly or directly, associated with sexual perversion.

How many, you may ask? Off the top of my head, there's "The Loved Dead", "In the Vault", "The Disinterment", "Pickman's Model", The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath, "The Hound" and "Herbert West: Re-Animator". All of these tales share certain themes, which don't repeat beat-for-beat in each tale but do overlap:

Male character becomes obsessed with dead bodies--whether that's stealing them, having sex with them, desecrating them, or resurrecting them.

He is comfortable around death and the dead to a degree that is unusual, sometimes explicitly stating that he prefers the smells/sights of death to those of life.

Terms like "fiendish", "hellish", "abnormal" and "perverse" are used to describe him; his gaze towards dead bodies or to experiments may be framed as "leering" or "speculative".

He is frequently a twink; often described as being frail, if not noticeably beautiful; he may recall being mocked for being "bookish" or "weak" as a child.

He is superficially charming in a way that gets him by in polite society, but not long-term nor in-depth.

He often ensnares an otherwise "normal" man to share his obsessions, effectively recruiting him as an assistant... until the "normal" guy realizes he's about to go on the chopping block (or, in at least one story, already was on the chopping block).

Their crimes involve a lot of sneaking around late at night, locked doors, whispering so they don't get caught (or they'll be killed), secretiveness, glee at getting away with it, and frequently, sharing the same living space.

The Unrepentant Evil Dude is often killed at the end of his tale in a way that implies vigilante/mob justice is at hand.

The other may be allowed to live if he's very sorry and frames the whole story as being the fault of the other guy, or he may die too while affirming his horrible demise as just, even if it terrifies him.

(One could make an argument that Wilbur Whateley fits into some of these tropes. It's me I'm one)

If this all sounds very gay, Lovecraft probably would have agreed. He had as dim a view of homosexuality as he did on most other things that were Outside The Norm. In other words, we were supposed to see Richard Upton Pickman with his ghouls and think, "Ah, yes, this is a metaphor for queerness", only we were supposed to be revolted by that revelation.

This same attempt at revulsion can be easily read into Victor Frankenstein, and probably more Mad Scientists than I can name offhand (but feel free to in reblogs). Frankenstein's "crimes against nature" were connected to dead bodies as well, and likewise involved a lot of sneaking around, locked doors, and worry about what would happen were he caught with this naked man-thing he's keeping in his dorm. His crime, as with his parody character Herbert West, is creating life outside the bounds of heterosexual cisgender sex. This was meant to revolt readers' sensibilities as much as the whole cutting-up-corpses-and-stitching-them-back-together thing would.

This is why, if we're being honest, "Re-Animator" and "Bride of Re-Animator" are not necessarily gay… they're homophobic. This might be controversial, but stick with me.

I feel like Gordon and Yuzna were tapping into that old-fashioned Revulsion Handbook, including from the source material, which thematically linked Herbert West with queerness. (I'm using "queer" a lot here, but I would personally include trans-friendly readings under that rubric; I'm using "queer" in the analytical sense and not solely in the identity sense.) This means that, ironically, a lot of what we could point to as queer subtext is actually homophobic text.

This is reinforced by the novelization of the first film, written by a homophobe who got Trumpist brainworms later in life. He wanted to make West repulsive to the reader, and therefore, he tried to make West more gay. And IT WORKED.

To be clear, I'm not accusing anybody, other than the novelist, of being a homophobe. There's a difference between possessing internalized bigoted beliefs which express themselves in writing, versus utilizing tropes originating in bigotry because That's What's Done Around Here. (I can understand why others might not perceive a meaningful difference.) Like the Cuzco lizards, this queerness-as-villainy is definitely a stupid thing ported in from the source material.

I do think that this is why everybody but Our Queen Barbara Crampton seems embarrassed or nonplussed by all the transfags pestering them about fellatio tapes. It's because they don't get why this thing appeals so much to us. It shouldn't. If anything, they should be canceled for having yet another queer-coded villain, along with a number of other plot choices of questionable taste (I'm looking at you, The Head Scene, and I don't like what I see).

Only, uh, it didn't work out that way long-term, did it?

I thank Cronenberg and venereal horror for this, in part. Brutally queer despite not being explicitly gay, venereal horror is what happens when the characters should be revolted, but aren't.

This kind of thing is horrifying for crossing the line twice: first by being disgusting, then by having characters respond as though it is exciting, or sexually stimulating, or if nothing else, normal. They are perverse. They leer at the dead and the subjects of their experiments. And the disgusting monsters at the center of these narratives are celebrated. Their twisted sexualities are explored with the same brave frankness other filmmakers give to milquetoast cishet missionary nonsense. Their political views are given life and air, and usually, they're right. Their deaths, if they come at all, are framed as tragedies brought on by society's sick rejection of the flesh their brave experimentation.

Cronenberg's the dude who unironically thinks that Shivers (trigger warning for literally everything) has a happy ending. My man David's got subscriptions where others have issues.

Venereal horror has given us a new metaframework for looking at the repulsive, the monstrous, and the problematic and responding to it… differently.

Now here's another thing: Lovecraft likewise provided a structure for embracing the grotesque and the queer.

Pickman, the Decadent artist, paints photorealistic, enormous portraits of ghouls. Literal flesh-eaters. He is fascinated by them, comfortable with them. "Model" heavily implies that Pickman is a ghoul changeling--switched at birth with a human child. This leans into Lovecraft's ideas about heritability being a major source of horror, of course, and seems run of the mill until you get to The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath.

In there, Pickman appears again, but this time as a ghoul. He has cast off his human social shackles and joined the beings he loves, beings who understand him and support him. Kadath is notable in that the ghouls are actually... like... reliable, loyal, and morally good? Carter's opinion pretty much is, "They do eat human corpses and they smell awful, but they're all very nice and want to help me on my quest, so maybe they're not so bad (if not as good as the cat army)".

This feels like Lovecraft acknowledging that his entire approach of linking queerness, death, and revulsion is fundamentally flawed. Once you become familiar with the repulsive, it becomes not-really-that-repulsive-at-all. You can find beauty in it, and amusement, and love. Pickman embracing his ghoulish nature isn't all that different from Seth Brundle's overall lack of revulsion at his body's transformation. And it's not that different from what a lot of transmasculine folks go through, either.

It's not that transmascs, trans men, and/or transfags don't see what West does as crimes against nature. It's that we're all very fucking tired of being accused of crimes against nature. We're tired of not being able to look at socmed without finding accusations that we're disgusting perverts who sneak around behind closed doors to corrupt innocent, promising people to be our lackeys and partners in crime.

Hell, I refer to my wife as "my partner in crime" not because it's a cute way of acknowledging how well and how much we work together both in life and creativity. It's also because we could have been arrested for our relationship when we got together.

We were illegal.

There was a lot of sneaking around and whispering and trying not to get caught and "what if they call the cops on us if we're clocked". Can I tell my friends about this? Will they reject me or rat me out? Where am I safe? Nowhere. Best to lock the door and then check it again to be sure. Best to be very quiet.

Best to act like a graverobber trying to get their grisly wares back home before good, decent, Christian folk see them.

So when I hear "Blasphemy? Before what God?!", I read it as (whether he's ace or aro, gay or achillean, trans man or transmasc or genderfucked) a queer slogan of defiance, instead of a defense of graverobbing, corpse desecration, and non-consensual resurrection.

We're told we and our bodies are repulsive, so being told that Herbert is also repulsive makes him more relatable. Instead of wondering what the hell's wrong with him for shooting up reagent, we all theorize that it's actually T or has similar effects--because we're all told that T is a toxin that will horribly change and disfigure our bodies. He dresses in a three-piece suit for school, and instead of reading him as a stiff and overly-formal little freak, we assume he's layering up because he hasn't found a hoodie he likes yet.

He cackles at his horrific creations, and instead of saying "What a fucking freak (anguished)", we say "What a fucking freak (affectionate)" and laugh along with him. Who among us hasn't taken apart our Barbies and tried to combine their parts with the Kens? What is a doll, or a human, but a collection of parts to be rearranged? Haven't we also been told we're freaks for rearranging our own parts?

We've already been told by society at large that we are Herbert West. We're just embracing it, in the proud tradition of venereal horror fans who are not revolted when they ought to be, and I think that's delightful.

#fandom meta #reanimator #re animator 1985 #bride of reanimator 1991 #bride of re animator #herbert west #headcanon #transmasculine #body horror #venereal horror #cronenbergian #writing trope #i live for analysis #lovecraft #this has been rattling around in my head for ages and probably isn't going to cover everything or be correct but here we all are anyway #hope y'all like it

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lykaonimagines · 2 years

Text

Two Of You - Stephen Strange x Reader

Paring: Stephen Strange x F!Reader

Word Count: 1,432

Description: After months of living in the Sanctum, when America thinks Stephen and Y/N are going to ask her to leave, she starts doing everything she can think of to convince them to let her stay.

Request: "Stephen and the reader are married and want to try for a baby and they ask America first."

Requested by: Anon

Other Things: Mild angst but it gets family fluffy/happy.

Warnings: Some swearing.

Masterlist

The first eight months in this universe had been some of the best in America’s life. Finally for once she felt like she belonged somewhere. That she had a home, that she was loved, and she wasn’t a danger to anyone.

She’d been going to school in New York, finally getting a chance to meet other kids her age and make friends she didn’t have to worry about suddenly being ripped away from one day. She lived at the Sanctum Sanctorum with Stephen and Y/N who had practically become her adoptive parents, and she studied the mystic arts at Kamar-Taj on weekends.

Everything for once felt… stable. And comfortable.

Sunday family movie nights, Saturday family breakfast, Y/N packed her a lunch each day with encouraging notes, the two of them stopping by her room each night to wish her a good night.

She couldn’t have imagined anything better.

That is until she started noticing Y/N and Stephen whispering more. While they were usually quick to invite her into their conversations, suddenly it seemed every time she entered the room they’d go quiet.

While their overall behavior toward her hadn’t really changed much, and they still followed their typical schedules, this small change was setting her on edge.

What couldn’t they talk about around her? That had to be discussed so often?

The only thing that could come to mind was that it was about her. The most reasonable answer seemed to be she’d done something wrong or they’d grown tired of her. Both possibilities made her heart ache.

So she started trying to help out more, and in her newfound panic, it all seemed to go wrong. First she burned the dinner she tried to make for them. Then accidentally turned Stephen’s socks pink in the wash when she did their laundry.

She came to the conclusion that those kind of chores didn’t seem to be working for her… but maybe some of the more magical ones could.

She’d watched Stephen perform the seals for the doorways loads of times, it didn’t seem like it could be that hard. He complained about having to do it all the time. Maybe if she could prove she could handle that, they’d let her stay.

At least that was the plan, until the spell went wrong. Of course on the door that had currently been set to some oceanic scene. As the spell went haywire, water poured through the doorway quickly starting to flood the hallway.

Trudging through the water, she breaks into a sprint as she reaches dry floor and screams Stephen’s name at the top of her lungs, frantically looking into each room.

Within seconds he appears, gripping her shoulders as he tried to get an actual answer from her. By the time she managed to gasp out the issue and they made it back across the Sanctum, the water had already started taking over the foyer.

He’d made short work of the seal and removing the bulk of the water, but the fancy thousand year rugs squished under their feet and there was apparent signs of water damage on the wood flooring and walls.

“I- let me help!” She insisted, reaching to grab a wet relic and accidentally dropping it in the process, the piece shattering as it hit the floor.

“No!” He shouts but sighs and rubs his temples. “I’m sorry. Just. Please go help Y/N with dinner or do your homework. I’ll handle this myself.”

“I-I’m sorry Stephen, I just-”

“America not right now please, I have a lot to do to fix this,” he grumbles as he turns back around to inspect the damage.

Turning away dejectedly, she heads back up to her bedroom to throw herself onto her bed and buries her face in her pillow.

“When do you think we should talk to her about it?” America freezes just outside the dining room as Stephen’s voice reaches her ears.

The tears she’d been holding back over the week since the doorway incident threaten to spill as she swallows hard. This was it. They were finally getting rid of her.

“I don’t know, I’m not sure what the best time to say that kind of thing even is,” Y/N responds.

Clenching her fists tightly and tightening her jaw, America stomps into the room with tears in her eyes, “You can just say it to me, I already know.”

“America?” Stephen asks surprised. “You know?”

“Hun what’s wrong?” Y/N immediately says as she notices the tears in the teen’s eyes. A look of confusion on her face as America takes a stop away from her as she steps forward. “What’s going on?”

“I already know!” she repeats, the tears trailing down her cheeks. “You guys want me to leave, you don’t want me here anymore.”

“Wait what?” Stephen’s brow furrows as he looks between Y/N and America. “Who said that?”

“No one yet, but I know it’s coming,” she answers, her gaze drifting to the floor. “And I- I can’t blame you. I was trying to help out more so you’d want me to stay and all I did is cause more problems for you.”

Y/N’s arms wrap around her and pull her into a tight hug suddenly, “America, I don’t know where you got that from but that’s not true.”

“B-but you two keep whispering about things and then stopping when I come in the room, and I keep making everything worse,” she hiccups, her tears spilling against Y/N.

“Kid you’re not going anywhere,” Stephen adds softly, approaching the pair and gently ruffling her hair. “We want you here, and anyways as far as the state of New York is concerned, legally we’re your parents. So you can’t get rid of us that easily.”

“You’re not mad about the seals? Or laundry, or dinner?”

“Those are just things,” he shrugs and wraps an arm around each of them. “Floors can be fixed, we can make more food, and I can get more socks. I was more upset you tried a spell you’ve never done alone. We were lucky it was just water damage. It could have been lava, toxic gas, any kind of beast. I don’t want anything happening to you.”

Y/N’s hand rubs slow circles on her back as the tears subside and she snuggles into the both of them with deep breaths. “What did you want to talk about then?

Stephen glances down at his wife and they both nod in agreement.

“Well Stephen and I have been thinking… we really like being a family. All the things we do together, being your parents. And we got to thinking about maybe wanting to be someone else’s parents too,” Y/N explains softly, America pulling back to look at her questioningly.

“Who’s parents?”

“We were thinking about trying to have a baby,” Stephen continues, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “But we wanted to know how you felt about that first.”

“Wait, you wanted to ask how I feel about you guys having a baby?”

“Yes, you’re our first priority and if you’d rather we not, we don’t want to do anything that’s going to make you uncomfortable.”

“But if you want a baby why would you let me say no, won’t that make you happy?”

“We are happy,” Stephen states simply. “We’re both really happy with the three of us, and will be if it stays that way.”

“We just liked the idea of having two of you,” Y/N smiles as America’s eyes widen.

The teen stays quiet for a moment, looking between the two as a wide smile grows on her face, “I’m gonna be a big sister!”

“Well I’m not pregnant yet!” Y/N laughs and leans against Stephen’s side.

“I want a sister!” America continues, pacing back and forth in front of them in thought. “No, a brother! And he needs a cool name, he’s going to be magical as heck! I’m gonna have a sibling!”

Before the two of them can say another word, America races into the kitchen excitedly, to inform a visiting Wong of the good news.

“Did she just basically tell Wong I’m pregnant?” Y/N sighs and shakes her head with a small smile on her face.

“I believe she did,” he chuckles and presses a kiss to her temple. “And you know how we can fix that?”

“How so?”

He lowers his mouth to her ear, playfully nipping at it as he digs his fingers into her hips, “By making it true.”

----

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bitterkarella · 5 months

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Midnight Pals: Prog Harder

Stephen King: you know i'm something of a prog guy myself Todd Keisling: is that right King: maybe you've heard of a little band called the rock bottom remainders Keisling: yeah i've heard of them King: King: well King: well i was in that band

Keisling: steve i would hardly compare the rock bottom remainders to the awesome power of progressive rock King: c'mon todd i got progressive cred! King: i got the crimson king in my dark tower books! Poe: Barker: Koontz: Lovecraft: King: the crimson king! King: the crimson king! Poe: Barker: Koontz: Lovecraft: King: based on king crimson! Poe: Barker: Koontz: Lovecraft: King: oh for crying out loud you guys

Barker: i don't know how you expect anyone to get that reference Barker: when you mix up the name like that King: but Barker: i mean "crimson king," "king crimson" Barker: you reversed the words King: but Barker: kinda confusing you know King: but Poe: yeah i never picked up on it

King: c'mon! I'm totally prog! King: what about imaginos King: i wrote imaginos! Keisling: ffft blue oyster cult? that's barely prog King: "not prog"?!? King: haven't you seen the shooting shark music video???

Koontz: what's imaginos? King: oh dean you're in for a real treat King: hold on i'll recite it for you Barker: oh christ King: no no you'll like i swear King: "imagine" King: "if you will" King: "a world where anything can happen" King: "if you can imaginos it"

King: a bedtime story for the children of the damned King: from the dream world paralleling our earth in time and space, the invisible ones have sent an agent who will dream the dream of history Barker: hahah what the fuck Poe: cliveffffffffffft ha ha ha King: guys! stop laughing!! King: i'm being serious!

King: c'mon Todd! Let me prove it! King: dean give me those headphones King: I'm gonna listen to Gentle Giant! Keisling: no steve don't do it! Keisling: you have so much to live for!

King: [listening to Gentle Giant] yeah yeah i get it, i dig it Keisling: oh my god steve i misjudged you Keisling: you really are a prog master Keisling: only a true black belt prog master could listen to Gentle Giant without brain hemorrhages King: that's what i've been saying

Keisling: in fact i Keisling: wait a second Keisling: what gentle giant album are you listening to King: uh Keisling: is it their commercially palatable sellout album Giant for a Day??? King: [sweating] n-no?

#midnight pals #the midnight society #midnight society #stephen king #clive barker #edgar allan poe #dean koontz #hp lovecraft #todd keisling

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arlana-likes-to-write · 5 months

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Lightning Bug - Chapter 24

Masterlist

Warning: self harm, mention of past trauma, angst with fluff, Natasha and Wanda being good parents

Word count: 3.1k

“Stephen,” America said. You stood up slowly, but the room began to spin. “Hi. This is-” You lunged to the side, throwing up the food Wanda made for breakfast in a bowl next to the stairs.

“She’s throwing up in the cauldron of the cosmos.”

“Yeah,” America said slowly. “I’m surprised it took her this long.” She started to rub your back. “You threw up much quicker.” You stood up, and a red cap brought you a glass of water and a napkin.

“Uh, thanks,” you took the items from it, and the cap returned to its proper place around Stephen’s shoulders. He was wearing all blue with a brown belt around his waist. The most striking thing about his appearance was a necklace around his neck. You took a sip of water. “Hi,” you waved. “Sorry about that. I’m Y/n,” you introduced yourself.

“I know who you are,” oh. Okay. Well, that was ominous. “What were you thinking?” He turned his attention back to his pupil. “You could have gotten separated or, worse, caused an incursion .” America sighed, looking down at her feet.

“I know, I know. I wasn’t thinking.” You weren’t the biggest fan of how he was talking to her.

“Hey, chill,” he looked at you, and you heard America quietly say your name in a warning. “No one got hurt. We are back in our correct universe,” well, you hopped you were. “She made a mistake. It happens.” The man crossed his arms.

“I don’t have time to explain the complexity of the multiverse to another child.” You never wanted to slap an adult more than you do now. “America knows it was more than a simple mistake.” You disliked how quiet America was being. It was so unlike her. You wrapped your pinky finger around hers. Stephen’s eyes followed the path of your hand, and you saw his eyes soften at the gesture, but his mask went back on quickly. “I believe your presence is being requested at the tower and America,” your friend raised her head. “We will discuss the consequences of your actions later.” He raised both hands, and orange sparks surrounded the both of you.

You yelped as you fell through the portal Stephen created. Instead of hitting the ground, red magic surrounded you and America and gently rested you down. You stood in the common floor kitchen with a very amused Black Widow looking at you. “Imagine our shock,” she began. “That Vision gave you the day off because you weren’t feeling well, and FRIDAY tells us you and America left the tower,” you cringed at her tone and looked down at the floor.

“You must be feeling better,” Wanda added.

“It’s not her fault,” America defended. “I woke her up to hang out with her,” Natasha said your name, and you looked at her. You saw a playful twinkle in her eye, indicating she wasn’t mad at you.

“Go to your room and get some sleep,” you nodded.

“Yes, ma’am,” you looked at America, interlocking your hand with hers. “Sorry you got in trouble,” you squeezed her hand.

“No big deal,” she shrugged her shoulders. You smiled at the couple, pleading with your eyes for them to go easy on her, and took the stairs to your floor.

You took each step slowly, your body was still sore, and the adrenaline was wearing off. “There you are,” you looked up to see Bruce walking over to you. You smiled at the doctor, ignoring the concern in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you headed towards the kitchen and grabbed a glass to fill with water. “Do you need something from me?” You sipped on the water as Bruce flipped through the clipboard he was holding.

“I’ve noticed you’ve been going through many batteries,” he said. Your fingers tightened around the glass you were holding. “I’m glad you are using it, but I want to ensure you use it safely.”

“I am,” you said. The lie ticked the back of your throat. “I use it in the morning and sometimes at night.” It wasn’t a total lie since Maria liked to use the machine during training. He nodded.

“Well, I wanted to give you this too,” he took a piece of paper and slid it across the counter that separated you and him. “It’s a list of places that have used the batteries.” It was a list of hospitals, schools, and clinics that you never heard of before. It made you smile. “If you need anything, you know where to find me.” You giggled.

“Will do,” you said. “Thank you, Bruce.” The doctor waved as he left towards the elevator. Sighing, you cleaned the glass you used and walked into your room. You dropped the paper onto your nightstand. Lying to Bruce did not feel right. It was like when you first moved to the tower. All these lies were stacking up on each other; you crawled into bed and wrapped the blankets around you. You prayed for a dreamless sleep.

“I can’t believe she traveled the multiverse and got out of her lessons,” Natasha laughed, cutting up some vegetables for Wanda. “In the same day! I’m a little impressed.” Wanda smiled, resting her hand on the small of Natasha’s back as she walked over to the fridge.

“Are you impressed or jealous America took her?” Wanda asked.

“Both, honestly,” the witch laughed and kissed her cheek.

“Well, we did tell her to be a kid. Ditching class and getting into trouble does fall into those categories.” She wrapped her arms around Natasha’s waist and leaned against her back. It made it a little tricky, but she made do. She would never deny the feeling of her girlfriend’s arms around her. It was calming as she felt every beat of Wanda’s heart and breath. “You don’t think we were too hard on her, right?” Her girlfriend asked. It was a delicate balance that Natasha was unfamiliar with. They needed to enforce some rules, but she refused to be like the young girl’s biological parents.

“I don’t think so,” the Black Widow said. “But we’ll check in with her after she’s gotten some sleep.” Natasha was worried about her not feeling well. Wanda nodded, kissing Natasha’s shoulder.

“She’s special,” Wanda mumbled. Yeah, Natasha couldn’t agree more.

Sweat poured down your back as you tried to catch your breath and stared down the machine. You needed to do it tonight. You woke up from a nightmare involving America, and at dinner, those scenes danced around your head. It was awful; it was the only way you could find a word to describe it as America’s screams echoed in your mind, and you were the one that caused them.

“Whoa,” you placed your hands on your temples as the room spun. You shut your eyes tight and felt your body fall to the ground. A pained groan left your lips, and you opened your eyes. The room was no longer spinning, but your head was pounding. This was a new feeling. It made you feel weak, and you hated it. Maybe this was what it felt like when you hit empty. On shaky legs, you stood up and covered the machine with the sheet.

You needed to go to sleep. With every step you took toward your bedroom, your legs felt like lead. You had half a mind to fall asleep in the hallways, but you figured that would raise many more questions. Suddenly, you were standing before a door that wasn’t yours. Wanda and Natasha. Before you could knock or turn away, the door opened, and you were staring at the Slovakian. “Oh, hi.”

“Your nose is bleeding,” you instinctively went to touch it, but Wanda grabbed your hand. “Come with me, and I’ll clean it.” Wordlessly, you let Wanda drag you to the kitchen and sat on the stool. She quickly wet a towel and sat down next to you. “I made sure it was warm,” she said, gently whipping the blood off your face. It was warm, but a shiver still went down your spine. “Did I hurt you?” She pulled away.

“No, you didn’t,” you whispered. “Just not used to this.” You didn’t elaborate, but Wanda nodded as if she understood.

“You know,” she smiled. “You remind me a lot of Pietro. He was very protective of me and the other kids,” you remembered her telling you about him. He was killed when they fought against Ultron while saving Clint and a little boy. “He would steal food for us when we couldn’t afford it.” You smiled.

“Sounds like Caleb” she tossed the towel in the sink and walked around the counter to the other side to clean it and her hands. “How do I remind you of him?” She was quiet momentarily, focusing on washing the towel and her hands. It amazed you that on the most straightforward task, she chose to do it the mundane way instead of a wave of her hand, and the mess would be gone. You believed she needed to keep her hands busy whenever a painful memory arose.

“He never wanted anyone to worry about him. He kept every worry and pain to himself and covered it with a smile,” she shook her hands dry. “Why are you up?” She asked.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she playfully rolled her eyes at you. “I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted as Wanda grabbed two mugs and filled the electric kettle. “I haven’t been sleeping well since I told everyone what happened to me,” she placed tea bags in the mugs. “Every time I close my eyes, I relive everything.” The water began to boil, and she filled each mug. With her magic, she made two spoons appear.

“When was the last time you slept?” You chuckled, pressing down the tea bag with the spoon.

“I sleep every night, Wanda,” but an intense feeling of guilt ran through you. Gently, she tapped her finger against your hand, but you refused to look at her. “I’ve been hurting myself,” you whispered. “Not in the same way before, but it’s the only way I’ve been able to sleep.” Once again, she tapped your hand. You gathered the courage and looked at her. There was no judgment in her green eyes. Instead, there was love; you’ve seen mothers look at their daughters like this.

“Thank you for being honest with you,” she said. “How have you been doing it?” You took a sip of the tea.

“The machine Tony and Bruce made me. I’ve been using it to the point my powers are depleted,” you explained. “It’s the only way for my mind to shut off,” you bite your lip and trace the mug’s rim. “I just came from there, and I think it’s what caused the bloody nose. I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” She asked. She was frowning when you looked up at her.

“I promised I wouldn’t do this anymore,” you whispered. “And I broke it.” You heard a slight hitch in your voice, which Wanda also heard. She quickly rounded the kitchen counter and pushed away a few tears that fell with her thumb.

“Healing isn’t linear,” she said. “It’s messy and complicated. Sometimes, you take one step forward and three steps back, but that’s okay. I’m not mad at you, sweetheart, and I’m proud of you for being honest with me,” she wiped a few more tears and kissed your forehead.

“You’re the only one that’s ever done that,” you admitted. She tilted her head, a little confused by your statement. “I’ve seen my mother do it to Henry a few times and random families on the street, but you are the first to kiss my forehead.” Her green eyes softened, masking the anger you saw that wasn’t directed at you. It was directed at the shitty deck of cards that life gave you. She kissed your forehead one more time and grabbed your hand.

“Come on, you need sleep,” you felt your eyes get heavy as she led you to the couch. She sat down first and encouraged you to cuddle against her. Your head rested on her chest, listening to the steady beat of her heart. It was soothing. A blanket was pulled up to your shoulders, and her hand began to draw circles on your back, but you moved to look at Wanda.

“You and Natasha would make perfect parents,” you told her. “Have you ever thought about having kids?” It would be adorable to see a mini Wanda and Natasha running around. Wanda smiled.

“Maybe one day, once we are done with all the Avenging,” you nodded. That was understandable; their life was so uncertain. “Besides, I think we have our hands full with you lot here,” she ruffled your hair, which caused you to giggle.

“Night, Wanda,” you turned on your side and closed your eyes. The feeling of Wanda’s hand on your back and the calmness of her heartbeat helped you fall asleep in no time.

When Natasha reached over to pull her girlfriend closer, she found the spot empty and cold, which was not expected. They made a promise to one another to wake the other person if they had a nightmare. Frowning, she got out of bed and pulled on a sweatshirt. The tower was always cold, and she hated it. The cold reminded her of Russia, where her life was changed forever. She walked out of her room and found her girlfriend on the couch. “Hi, malen’kaya ved’ma (little witch),” Natasha whispered, walking over to her. The witch was awake, running her hand through Y/n’s hair as she was fast asleep. The sight warmed Natasha’s heart as she knelt behind the couch and kissed Wanda’s shoulder. “Everything okay?” Her girlfriend hummed.

“Yeah, she just needed some cuddles to help her sleep.”

“Is she okay?” Wanda sighed but nodded.

“I think she will be. We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” Natasha wanted to talk about it now, but she learned not to question her.

“Do you want to move her to our room?” Wanda nodded and moved her hand to the young girl’s back.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Wanda whispered, gently shaking her awake. “Can you wake up for a second? Then we can go back to bed?” The girl groaned, blinked open her eyes, and rolled onto her back. Her eyes flickered to Wanda, then Natasha.

“Your girlfriend is a comfy pillow,” the girl mumbled. Natasha smiled.

“Don’t I know it,” she said. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” The girl stood up from the couch, taking the blanket with you. The Black Widow was surprised she didn’t fight them when they laid her in their room. When Wanda opened the door, she crawled into the middle of the bed and under the covers. Her eyes closed as soon as her head hit the pillow, and she fell asleep. Natasha chuckled.

“Glad we got the bigger bed,” Wanda smiled and got onto her side of the bed. Immediately, the teen searched for her warmth. The sight made Natasha smile.

“Are you joining us?” The Black Widow nodded and got in bed. “What’s on your mind?” Natasha gently brushed the young girl’s hair out of her face.

“We should ask her soon. Make this little family official.”

Wanda set down a plate of eggs and pancakes in front of you. “Thank you,” you said. “For breakfast and last night.” Natasha set a tall glass of orange juice next to the plate. “Honestly, it was the best nights sleep I’ve gotten in a while.” The Black Widow smiled as she watched you pour syrup over the flood and cut into the pancake.

“No need to thank us,” she said. “We are here whenever you need us.” You nodded; it was a concept you were still trying to learn. “Actually,” Wanda stood next to her girlfriend. ‘We do want to talk about something.” Your stomach dropped, and you placed your silverware on the plate.

“You aren’t in trouble,” Wanda added, but her assurance didn’t help the anxiety spike. “We think it would be good if you see someone to talk to about everything you’ve been through.”

“Like a therapist?” You questioned. The couple nodded. “I don’t know.” You hated opening up to a stranger when it took you forever to tell the Avengers.

“It’s something you don’t have to decide right now, okay?” Natasha smiled. “Just something to think about.” She ruffled your hair, and it brought a smile to your face. The couple began to discuss their plans for the day - a meeting, a training session, and what they would do for dinner. You knew you were damaged, a little broken from everything you’ve been through, but you weren’t sure if talking to a stranger would help.

“Just the family I’ve been looking for,” Sam said, stealing a piece of a pancake from your plate. You stuck your tongue at him as he sat down next to you. “I’m guessing you’ve gotten presents for Barton’s kids,” he told the couple. Natasha nodded her head. “What the hell did you get them? AJ's birthday is coming up, and I have no idea what to get.” You were not sure what birthdays were until you lived on the street and read a book where the main character had their birthday with friends and family. It clicked, then. Once a year, Henry had friends over, your mother made a cake, and he went to unwrap colorful presents. He was celebrating his birthday, something you never got the pleasure to do. Once a year, you lay in bed and listened to a party no one invited you to.

“Hey,” you were pulled out of your thoughts by Natasha. “Where did you just go?” She asked. All three of them were looking at you.

“Nowhere,” you said, but Natasha gave you a pointed look. “I was thinking about birthdays. I never celebrated mine.”

“Well, when it is?” Now, that was a great question. You tilted your head.

“I’m not sure,” you slowly said. “I guess my parents would have had to tell me or Caleb, but no one did,” you shrugged. “It’s fine,” you quickly added. “I went this long without a birthday party. I’ll be fine.” You ignored the look on their face and focused back on your breakfast. A birthday party sounded fun: presents, cake, and being surrounded by people who cared about you. But you were fine without one. Right?

taglist: @aestruvx, @toouncreativeforausername, @modedddd, @julilamoment, @mythixmagic, @yourmamacom, @vicmc624, @cherlenovix, @liliesandrosies, @whitewidowsbite, @clintsbigtoe, @blackbirdv98@arualdcg@yoyo-w @natbelovasblog, @johnnyhulu, @blackwidow-3, @theenglishswiftie, @faith-olsen

#wandanat x daughter!reader #wandanat x reader #wandanat x you #america chavez x reader #america chavez x you #america chavez x y/n #wandanat #lightning bug #natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff

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airas-story · 3 months

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The Vampirism Solution

Stephen had assumed, once he’d successfully gotten his PhD and MD, he would never have to take another class again.

He glanced around the classroom he was in now. It was full of mostly young men and women in their twenties, emanating naïveté. He and Tony were obvious outliers. And not just because they were older. Stephen suspected that very few of his fellow students had truly considered what they were signing up for.

Stephen suspected that they’d fail the interview for that exact same reason.

“So, you wish to be a vampire,” Professor Ancient, their instructor, said. She tapped the simple hand fan she carried against the palm of her hand. Her gaze, with her crimson red eyes, seemed to pierce straight through Stephen as she examined the class.

Stephen forced himself to nod along with the rest of the class to the question. He’d thought this through, created pros-and-cons lists galore, and discussed the matter with Tony so often that Stephen had memorized each of their talking points.

Being a vampire would solve 90 percent of Stephen’s problems and otherwise create only work-around-able complications.

Now that society had found a cure for the unfortunate blood frenzy—thanks to Doctors Bruce Banner and Maya Hansen—vampirism was taking off in certain circles as a cure-all.

That was a little optimistic, in Stephen’s opinion. As a doctor he felt qualified in declaring that nothing was a cure all. But there was a certain sort of brilliance to it.

Stephen, though, Stephen had one very large pro.

Vampires needed only 1/6 the ‘sleep’ of a normal human. By the Supernatural, the amount of things that Stephen would get done if he didn’t need to waste so much of his time sleeping. His work as a neurosurgeon was fulfilling, but it was… time-consuming. Hell, he hadn’t watched a movie in six years! Worse, he’d slept through his and Tony’s 10th anniversary.

Tony still hadn’t forgiven him for that.

Which was fair, since Stephen was still holding the fact that Tony had worked through their 5th anniversary over Tony’s head.

Which really, was another reason why vampirism would be good for him and Tony. They both worked so much, that needing less sleep opened up more time for them to spend time together when they didn’t need to waste that time restoring their sleep reserves.

Yes, immortality was a bit of a nuisance, but Stephen could work with that. Maybe six hundred years or so—and he couldn’t even begin to imagine the sort of medical progress that would be made in 600 years, and he’d be able to see it all—and then there were careful, government-controlled methods to legally deal with such immortality issues for those ready to pass on.

“Doctor Strange—“ from behind him someone giggled. Stephen refrained from rolling his eyes. His name was not that amusing. “What are the top three rules for the vampire?” Professor Ancient asked.

“You do not drink blood without permission,” Stephen responded immediately. “You do not attempt to create thralls out of unwilling victims. And you do not cross the threshold of a person’s home with explicit permission.” Which really, vampire or not, Stephen wasn’t the sort to just invite himself into another persons home.

Professor Ancient nodded before turning to the giggle perpetrator. “Miss Mina, what did the result of Vampirism vs The Government decide for night-time shapeshifting?”

Stephen glanced at Tony as Mina stuttered out an answer as Professor Ancient’s piercing, vaguely terrifying gaze settled on her. Tony smiled at him. It had been Stephen’s idea to apply for a turning, but Tony had been by his side from the beginning. Which was good, since Stephen wasn’t about to accept a turning without Tony by his side.

Immortality would be lonely without Tony.

This was their first of the six mandated classes before the test and qualifying interview. But Stephen had a good feeling about this.

If both he and Tony ended up qualifying they’d take the rites of vampirism, cross the line from mortality to immortality, and begin their new lives as an undead couple.

Stephen couldn’t wait to get started.

#ironstrange #tony stark #stephen strange #weird vampires #everything would be easier if you didn't need to sleep #Stephen's logic is flawless

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stitched-mouth-vs-the-world · 8 months

Text

Smoking With Ramona Flowers and Kim Pines

Pairing: Kim Pines x GN! Reader, Ramona Flowers x GN! Reader.

Warnings: Weed/ Drug use. Ramona's part is nsfw. Just mentions of sex whilst high on weed.

Summary: Smoking with Kim and Ramona (separately) would include...

Writing Time: 20 minutes.

Word Count: 498.

A/N:

Ayyy! I DID save one of my spvstw works from my last blog! Just this one though, I think. RIP to my other 30 spvstw works.

Surprised I wrote this clearly (I think) considering how tired I am. Enjoy!

Kim Pines

• Kim is a usual weed smoker.

• All her friends are as well.

• Sex-Bomb absolutely writes songs and rehearse whilst baked.

• I bet it was a high Stephen Still who came up with the band name.

• If you go with Kim to any of these things or she smokes at home and you're coming, she'll warn you first.

• Just so you're not thrown into it, can avoid it if you don't like and to prevent peer pressure from her shitty band.

• But in this scenario you're all for it and you and Kim smoke a lot together.

• It's usually quite sweet when it's just the two of you.

• Causes some random high talk and munchies.

• But also a lot of cuddling and falling asleep in each other's arms.

• Kim is often quite loving and tender with you but it's a whole lot more when she's smoked.

• You two have definitely had a few emotional moments too whilst high.

• I imagine a few Breakfast Club circle scenes with just two of you after smoking and the weed possibly wearing off.

• Kim has definitely cried during these moments.

• Usually about how much she loves you and is scared of losing you.

Ramona Flowers

• Like Kim, Ramona smoke quite often too.

• But I wouldn't say as much.

• Maybe only at parties or group hang outs.

• And if you go with Ramona to these things, she'll always forget to tell you there will be weed.

• Sorry to those who don't smoke or need a warning first, you won't get any of that with Ramona.

• If you want to just smoke together just the two of you, you'll have to ask her.

• May or may not say no depending on the occasion and how she feels in the moment.

• When you and Ramona smoke together it's usually a lot of laughing and eating.

• Also some nsfw.

• I imagine high Ramona being horny af.

• Tbh, Ramona is horny af all the time but even more so when she smokes.

• If you're into it then y'all definitely have sex right there.

• But if you're not down, Ramona will probably fuck off as soon as she realises she's not getting anything.

• Just so she can relief herself, not cause she's mad at you.

• And y’all probably smoke together again and the same thing will happen.

• Ramona doesn't going smoke with you planning to have sex but she's always prepared for it.

#stitched #stitched talks #stitched mouth #stitched writes #spvstw #scott pilgrim #scott pilgrim vs the world #kim pines #kim pine #kim pines x reader #ramona flowers #ramona flowers smut #ramona flowers x reader

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infamous-if · 1 year

Note

how did you come up with the names for everyone?

They all just came to me as I was building them, even Sevens LOL I'm really surprised, actually. There was no agonizing over names or wondering if it didn't fit like usual when I write stories--every single name just popped in my head as I was writing the characters out. I guess...only Seven had a bit of back and forth.

I did mention Seven's dad still calls them Stephen/Stephanie but IDK if I mentioned that was supposed to be their original name and Seven was supposed to be a stage name (prob mentioned it on my personal tumblr). So yeah, Seven's real name was supposed to be Stephen/Stephanie but it didn't work and I liked the story I built behind their biological name being numerical ha it fit

Can u imagine Seven's name being Stephen or Stephanie and MC calling them that in school ha?!

I will say though that G Reign, Victoria Valentine aren't their real names (obviously). Their real names were a bit harder to pinpoint. Orion Quinn isn't his real (last) name either lol. He changed it when he entered the industry.

#inbox #infamous cast

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ironstrange1991 · 11 months

Text

It's a Girl

Pairing: Defender Strange xFem!Reader (Established Relationship)

Synopsis: Y/N is in her last month of pregnancy and can't sleep, so Stephen helps her to get comfortable.

Word Count: 0,960k

Warnings: None, just fluff.

A/N: This is very short, but I hope you guys like it anyway. Have a nice reading!

The hours passed quickly as you tossed and turned in bed without being able to fall asleep. You were feeling huge and bloated and at that point in your pregnancy you weren't exactly expecting to be able to sleep comfortably, but you needed to be able to sleep at least a little.

Even though you tried to move slowly while fighting your own body to try to settle on the mattress, you eventually ended up waking Stephen up. It couldn't be any other way. Stephen was an extremely light sleeper.

You felt him shift in bed and then sigh heavily. "What’s wrong baby?" You heard his husky, sleepy voice and then was your time to sigh.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to wake you up. I can't sleep."

You felt him shifting in bed and then he turned on the bedside lamp and turned to look at you. His hand immediately touching your belly.

"Is it the baby? Is something wrong?"

You shook your head and held his hand "I just can't seem to find a comfortable position. I'm restless and I've made the baby get agitated, now it's kicking and my back is hurting."

Stephen smiled and kissed you gently, then leaned down until his face was close to your belly. He kissed there and then started whispering to the baby. His voice was too low for you to understand what he was saying, but you heard a few words: daddy, your father, my sweet little girl.

He then moved his hand subtly and you felt his warm white magic penetring into your skin. You didn't ask him what exactly he was doing, you trusted him. The feeling wasn't bad, it was like you could feel his magic entering your skin and enveloping your womb. It was warm and comfortable and you could immediately feel how it soothed the baby. The kicks that seemed to want to break your ribs were replaced by small kicks, much more subtle, that seemed to accompany Stephen's hand.

"That's right, little one. Let your mother take some rest now, hmm? Daddy will stay here next to you all night. Sleep now. You're safe. You both are."

Stephen turned to look at you and there was a beautiful smile on his lips and once again you were sure you had chosen the right man to live with for the rest of your life.

"Better?" He asked.

You cupped his face and just nodded. You were delighted with what he had just done. "You put the baby to sleep. How did you do it?"

His smile widened and you could see how proud he was. "A simple connection spell. It allows me to connect directly with the baby and encourage him to do what I want in a way." He placed another kiss on your belly. "I read about it in a book about motherhood in terms of the mystical arts. It's totally safe." He assured.

Oh right. Of course Stephen, Sorcerer Supreme and Leader of the Defenders would find time in his extremely tight schedule to read maternity magic books. As if it could be any more perfect.

You smiled openly. "It's wonderful. Do you have a spell to make me finally find a position to sleep? Since you are so perfect."

Stephen smiled proudly and took one of his pillows "Turn on your side baby, let me put this under your belly."

He helped you get into position and you loved how caring and attentive he was to you. When you finally got comfortable, he laid back spooning you.

"Lift your head, love." He put his arm under your head and you lay down again. He put his other arm around you. "Is it better this way?"

You turned your head enough to find his lips and kissed him softly. "So much better."

He hummed and you two were silent for a minute.

"You called it your baby girl, how can you be so sure it's a girl? Is there a spell for that?"

Stephen chuckled "No, not that I know about. It's just a feeling. At first I imagined a boy and I was so happy when you said you'd name him Vincent. But now I feel it's a girl. It would have helped if you had let the doctor tell us the sex once and for all."

You smiled feeling his hand caressing your belly absently.

"We still have one last ultrasound next week."

"Are you serious?"

You nodded "It's yours as much as its mine, baby. If you want to know then let's find out."

You couldn't see his face but you knew he was smiling happily and when he answered his voice shook a little.

"I want it, very much."

You smiled feeling your body slowly relaxing and sleep finally approaching.

"Do you have any names in mind? It just occurred to me that we weren't thinking of girls' names." He said.

"I like Katherine. I don't know why, but I've always liked that name."

Stephen hummed "Our little Kate." He said and kissed your shoulder.

"Or our little Vincent. We don't know yet." You remembered, but he shook his head "It's a girl. I just know it."

You just smiled giving up trying to reason with him. "Anyway I know you're going to be the best dad in the world."

"Yeah? And why is that?"

You intertwined your fingers with his fingers "Because you are already the best husband in the world."

He placed another peck on your shoulder and sighed heavily. "I love you baby."

"I love you too Stephen."

"I want to be the best for my girls."

You just smirked to yourself without bothering to correct him. Deep down you also felt that it would be the way he wanted it. It just felt right. Stephen seemed like he was born to be a girl's father.

“You already are.” You whispered drifting off to sleep

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