I'm not sure if your box is request open rn but if it is, can you write a one shot based on that one scene in dr:mom where stephens getting ready and right after he uses magic to fix his tie, the reader walks in and asks "do you need help with your tie?" because the reader always does his tie for him since his hands are y'know funkied up
Stephen was about to say no but then saw the dress the reader was wearing for the wedding and shuts himself up. He literally pulls down his tie and then asks for help with this stupid smile on his face. The reader didn't pay attention and of course helps him with the tie. During that time, stephen just stares at her, his hands holding onto her waist or smthg and asks about what the reader thinks about getting married.
Sorry if i wrote too much info, i needed to get out as much scenario's in my head cause my exams are in a couple weeks. the perks of being a woman in stem. Plus the lack of doctor strange fics is driving me up the wall :D
Your reflection | s.s.
Pairing: Stephen Strange x fem!Avenger!reader
Summary: Christine’s getting married and you’re going to the wedding with your boyfriend, Stephen Strange, aka her ex. Is he still in love with her or does he want to marry you? Maybe it’s time for you to find that out.
Warnings: fluff, some angst if you squeeze, one suggestive joke at the end, established relationship, spoilers from the MOM trailer I guess
Word count: 1K
A/N: hi! I had so much fun while writing this request!! I love some good old fluff. If you wanna be tagged in my fics or if you have any request, just write them into my inbox. Feedback is always appreciated by a writer! Hope y’all like it. Enjoy! x
Tags: thanks to @mochamori for the request, hope you like it!
Stephen looked into the mirror only to see his tired reflection exchange a glance with him. He shouldn’t have accepted the invitation, but you insisted. So now he had to participate to his ex-girlfriend’s wedding with his current one. That was insane. Absolutely insane. At first, Star-Lord suggested him that it was a plan of yours to discover if he was still in love with Christine. Stephen didn’t agree with that, but he didn’t think that you wanted to come either, so he got confused. Then Wanda came with another idea: you were just being kind to her, because you wanted to study her face on the altar, in order to understand if she was still in love with Stephen. And well, Stephen was definitely upset after that. Turned out, that you just wanted to go to their buffet and you were also friends with Christine. That explanation seemed to convince Stephen, but not entirely, since you weren’t a nurse but an Avenger and there was no way in the world – no, in the universe – that you could have met Christine by chance. You had probably become friends with the enemy some time ago using your smart skills. This is why Stephen had so much trouble into fixing his tie (and also because his hands were trembling), so he decided to use some magic on it.
That was when you came along. You knocked at the door, gently, then you entered into the room with a calm smile on your face. He saw your reflection in the mirror, by his side and he thought that you were stunning. An intense sense of warmth expanded into his chest: you were perfect, the person he had always dreamt of to be with. The girl of his dreams.
“Do you need help with your tie?�� You asked, kindly. “Oh, wait…”
Stephen untied it immediately, showing you a childish grin on his face. You chuckled.
“Apparently, yes,” he answered.
So you began to fix his tie again, while his hands were slowly sliding onto your waist. You were wearing a fabulous dress, something that made you appear like you were the one getting married, maybe on the beach, with him, that’s why he asked you for some help to fix the tie. You were adjusting it, your fingertips moving so slow, he thought that he wanted them to caress his cheeks and not a stupid piece of clothing. Maybe he would have liked you to do that for the rest of his life. No, he wanted that.
“What do you think about Christine getting married?” He asked, abruptly.
“Well, it’s cute. She’s gonna wear a beautiful dress and the church is pretty nice, I helped her to arrange everything as you know. I didn’t meet the guy, but she always says that she’s happy, so…”
“No, I mean, what do you think about getting married?” He interrupted you.
You furrowed your brows, your tongue between your teeth, while you were focused on the tie.
“I don’t know Stephen, I never thought about that,” you said.
He observed you and something in your eyes was off. Your hands had even began to shake, when they were always still and firm.
“You’re lying,” he replied, tilting his head.
“What do you mean? I don’t lie”.
“You lie all the time to Wanda, when you steal her stupid yogurt from the fridge. Now tell me what’s going on,” he said, holding your hand, leaving the tie almost fixed.
You swallowed, remaining quiet. Stephen knew that you wanted to get married, because why the hell would you help anybody to prepare a wedding with so much dedication, if you don’t even like the idea of it? You were the kind of person that did things because you wanted to do them, not because you were forced to. Something was bothering you and he wanted to know what it was.
“We’ve been together for how long, uh? It seems a lot of time to me, but time seems to shrink when I’m with you. Once I thought that I was just a replacement because you couldn’t have Christine and I was okay with it,” you said, then he tried to interrupt you, but you kept going. “I was okay with it. But then, something switched and now I can’t think straight when we’re together. Getting married means everything to me, because I thought about it for all my childhood. It would be an honor to me to have somebody like you by my side, no, to have you by my side, whether it’s in a church or on the beach, I don’t care. We could even just live together forever in this apartment and I would be okay with it, as long as we remain in love. But here’s the question: are you really in love with me?” You say. He had stared at your eyes for long enough to see them being filled up with tears. His heart ached for you. “Because I can sacrifice the wedding of my dreams for you, but I can’t stay with somebody who wants another woman by their side,” you added.
Then, he squeezed your hands and you finally looked into his eyes, while some tears were sliding on your face.
“It would be my honor, to marry you, Y/N,” Stephen said and you gave him a brief smile. “There wouldn’t be anything better to me than spend my life with my best friend, a beautiful woman that happens to be patient enough to bear with me,” he said and you chuckled. “And don’t ever try to think again that I don’t feel something for you, because you would underestimate yourself and I don’t want you to do that”.
“Will do,” you said, then you fixed his tie for good. “Now you’re ready”.
“Thank you. Oh, this dress? It would look better on the floor,” Stephen said and you blushed.
He laughed, then he thought about his friends and he realized it: Star-Lord was right. Well, too bad he would have never knew that.
His Sacrifice (3)
A/N: MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS SPOILERS **last part to this 3-part miniseries***
side note: yes, Daniel is a real restaurant. No, totes never gone. I’m just going by pictures and making shit up
Pairings/Characters: Stephen Strange x Stark!Reader, Christine, Charlie, America Chavez
Warnings: curses, swears, some fighting, angst I GUESS
Summary: Your life is definitely in better shape than it was before you had seen Stephen, but there’s still something missing.
Previous: His Sacrifice (2)
Staying in the Sanctum had grown to be a bit of a comfort for you. You had grown accustomed to Stephen’s greetings in the mornings, the way Wong was always in and out because of his travels, resulting in him walking in, stealing Stephen’s food, and taking a portal out before Stephen had a chance to steal it back. It amused you greatly, especially the fact that there was someone else out there who could somewhat humble Stephen.
America was in the Sanctum very often as well, usually, she was hiding around somewhere thinking that the sorcerers had no idea she was there. Between them and their magic, and your ability with vibrations, you all knew she was secretly staying here, you just decided to let her be. In fact, oftentimes you’d find America when you were alone, and you realized she was finding a reason to just suddenly ‘pop in’ and drag Stephen in with her and coax the two of you into talking to each other.
You caught America in the Sanctum once again. She was looking around your usual haunts for you, and you appeared behind her very suddenly and scared her half to death. She clutched her chest and leaned against the wall panting heavily, “Dios mio! Why did you do that?”
You smirked and crossed your arms over your chest as you leaned against the wall as well, “Why are you looking for me?”
She chewed on her bottom lip and shrugged both shoulders, “I don’t know…”
She dragged her toes across the ground and tucked her foot behind her ankle as she stared at the ceiling for a moment before meeting your gaze, “I heard Stephen was coming back soon, and I was just looking for you to — “
“To be near him when he returns?” You inquired. “You’ve been doing that a lot lately. Why?”
“No reason in particular.”
“America, as someone raised by a liar, I’m quite good at sniffing out lies. What are you planning?”
America sighed heavily and threw her arms in the air, “Okay! I give up. Okay. You and Stephen have to be together, and I’m trying to get you guys together!”
You smiled softly and shook your head, “That’s not going to happen, but that’s very sweet of you —“
“No, no, but it has to and it does happen! You two are meant to be together. I can’t tell you how many times, how many Stephen’s and Y/N’s I met that were together and in love, and, and — “
“And how many Y/N’s lost their Stephen?” You asked her quietly, watching as her shoulders sunk and her eyes were drawn down, “Or Stephen’s lost their Y/N’s? I—I won’t do that again. I lost Stephen twice now, when he died, and when I wished he was dead. If…if something happens between Stephen and I, and I lose him again? Well, this planet would never see it coming,” You explained as you took a deep breath and nodded to yourself, like you were reassuring yourself of your decision. “I can’t be with Stephen. It’s, it’s not safe for, uh, anyone.”
Through narrowed eyes, she pushed off the wall and walked towards you. Her fists were clenched tightly and rested on her hips as she glared at you, “Not safe for anyone, or not safe for that heart of yours that you’re too afraid to break?”
Before you could even form a response to counter this too-wise of a child, you could hear the familiar sounds and saw the golden sparks of a portal opening. Stephen stepped through, covered in a green goo that made the two of you look at him and take two large steps backwards. Stephen rolled his eyes as he stepped in and the portal closed behind him, “Don’t mind me, I’m fine. I’m not covered in Darghulakk slime at all.”
“Don’t know what that is, don’t want to know,” you replied.
“I know what it is. They’re gross. They have six eyes, very weird,” America said, watching the goo drip down Stephen’s body and smack against the hardwood floor. “Yeah, this is disgusting. I’m leaving.”
“Good, maybe all my food can stop disappearing,” Stephen quipped as he watched America make a very shaky portal back to Kamar-Taj and disappear through it.
You cleared your throat, “I was the one that actually ate all of your thick-cut bacon from the butcher, so —“
“Oh, I know. He still reminds me how quickly you went through four pounds of it.”
“We don’t need to talk about that — “
“Your cardiologist was baffled as to why you haven’t had a heart attack yet, and, quite frankly, I’ll still get calls from him asking if it’s as much of a medical marvel as I think it is. So —“
“Okay. You’re very funny,” You held your hand up to silence him while he grinned and nodded in agreement with you, goo flying off of his head. “Please go clean up. You look absolutely disgusting.”
Stephen looked down at the mess he made and waved his hand, a mop and bucket coming flying towards him to clean up the mess he made, a spell he usually did because it reminded you of Fantasmic. He looked to see if you were amused by this, and you had the same smile on your face as you did every single time he had done it in front of you. Stephen cleared his throat , prompting you to look away and up at him, “Before I clean up, I just, well…Christine invited us to dinner with her husband Charlie. Something about me running out of her wedding before we could meet, and you avoiding her for the last few years.”
You huffed, “You said yes already, didn’t you?”
“You did that annoying thing that you do where you assured her I’ll be there?”
“And she was annoyingly positive and happy about it, wasn’t she?”
You pouted and opened your mouth to yell at him, say it wasn’t his place to speak for you, but you shut your mouth and exhaled slowly. “What’s the dress code?”
“Charlie made a reservation for Daniel.”
You whined and started to turn around and walk towards the bedroom you had been staying in since you arrived at the Sanctum. Stephen followed you, waiting to hear all about your desire to not go to that restaurant. He could see this coming from you a mile away. He practically had this speech memorized.
“I hate Daniel!” You said, arms flying into the air. “Their portion sizes are smaller than a clit, a clit, Stephen!”
Okay. That was a new one.
“Smaller than a clit, Y/N, really?”
“Yes! I mean, who doesn’t want a clit in their mouth, but, like, I need a full actual meal before that otherwise I’d cannibalize some poor woman’s clit and wow this really got away from me, didn’t it?”
“You went on a tangent that even your father would’ve been shocked at,” Stephen said very honestly, which, rather than making you burst into tears, caused you to reflect for a moment before slowly nodding in agreement with him. Stephen chuckled and reached out to grab your hands, that were still in the air, and lowered them as he turned you around. “Don’t worry. Christine knows you hate that place too, he’s just really excited to go there because he’s been trying to get a table for years.”
“He name-dropped you, didn’t he?”
“Very quickly, apparently,” Stephen chuckled. “Look, Christine knows you hate that restaurant, she’s trying to get him to change the reservation, but, if not, I will get you the biggest, juiciest, cheesiest burger with fries you’ve ever seen in your life after sitting through dinner with her very excitable little Labrador of a husband. Okay?”
Shutting your eyes, you nodded and squeezed his hands, “Yes, Stephen. This is why I love you. You get me.”
There it was. The very thing you had dreaded on saying since you had made peace with Stephen Strange. You had worked tirelessly from ever thinking those words again, and when you couldn’t stop your brain from screaming it, you worked to make sure it never left your lips. Now you stood before Stephen, eyes wide in terror as you realized what you had done, watching as Stephen’s breath hitched and he stood there frozen like a popsicle.
What could you say to this? You couldn’t correct yourself. He very obviously heard what you had said. You couldn’t figure out a way to walk this back, which was saying something, considering that you were an absolute genius and usually always had a solution for something. There was nothing you could say in this moment that could undo the fact that you had told Stephen that you love him. It wasn’t in the past tense, you never said ‘used to love you’ you said that you still love him, and you were dying inside.
Without saying a word, you spun around on your heels and ran to the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind you as though that could even keep him away if he really wanted to get in. Stephen stood there for a moment processing what you said, the tone, how quickly it came out, and the fear on your face. It was obvious that you were still in love with him, still had feelings for him like Stephen hoped you did.
But, really, what could Stephen Strange do?
He could see it in your eyes. The look on your face after you admitted you love him was a look of pure terror. He was certain it was just a feeling of regret, of past feelings rising to the surface just because it was something he used to do for you after those stuffy, fancy dinners either one of you had to attend where the food either wasn’t good or wasn’t enough. That’s what it was, that’s what it had to be, right?
However, he really, really wished that wasn’t what it was. Stephen yearned for you. Letting you think he killed Tony because he hated him, it absolutely killed him, but he thought you needed someone to blame, something to help you heal, and it didn’t. Now, this was the closest he’d been to you since Tony’s death. He was a different man from before, and, god, how he wanted to show you that every moment of every day. Stephen wanted to give you the world, and he could very well do that. Stephen just wanted you, but if admitting he was still in love with you, that all he wanted was you would put this much fear into you and risk you running away, then he was content in suffering in silence, so long as he at least had your friendship.
This was so much more difficult than either of you thought. You both surprised the other with your outfits of choice. You hadn’t seen Stephen in a suit in years and he somehow looked more divine than you could ever remember. Stephen hadn’t seen you dressed and dolled up in just as long, having only seen you in sweatpants and giant shirts, if there were even any pants involved, and this? This was truly a sight to behold.
“You are a vision, Y/N,” Stephen said quietly as he admired you from head to toe. “You clean up very well.”
You shrugged a shoulder, cheeks burning as you looked down at your shoes and did a little kick to show them off, “I still got it, I guess. You, um, wow, new suit?”
“Same tailor, yeah,” Stephen agreed, clearing his throat as he smoothed down his front. “I don’t, uh, I don’t think he could make anything as beautiful as you, though.”
Somehow the burn went from your cheeks, down your neck, your chest, and even under your arms as the temperature unbearably increased and you wanted to drown yourself somewhere, “Just open that portal, Stephen.”
He nodded once, “Yes, ma’am.”
With a casual flair that stunned everyone outside of the restaurant, you and Stephen stepped through the portal. He loved doing that. It was one of his favorite tricks, and having all eyes on him, having all eyes see you on his arm? He relished it. He savored it and how people stared at him in envy.
That is, until, he saw them start to lean over and whisper as eyes locked onto you.
“They’re talking about me,” you murmured as you stepped closer to Stephen. “I think camera phones are coming out.”
“No one has seen you unless from a distance at that tower, sweetheart,” Stephen murmured. With a wave of his hand, the phones turned into butterflies and flew from people’s hands as you both entered the restaurant. “They’re just in awe of you.”
“Sure, that’s what it is.”
“I know I would be,” Stephen said, eyes looking around as he ignored the front desk and spotted Christine and her husband. “I see them.”
“Ah, game face,” you cleared your throat and turned to the host to specify you were there to meet some people, and they looked in awe to see two superheroes standing there. Stephen rolled his eyes and said they could find the table themselves as he took your hand in his and led you away. “You’re being rude, Stephen.”
“No, if he gawked at you any longer, he would’ve died of dehydration,” Stephen replied as you approached the table where Charlie and Christine stood up to greet you both. “Be nice.”
“I should say that to you,” you whispered quickly to Stephen just before Christine approached with a smile, “Hey, congratulations.”
Her arms came around you quickly in a warm embrace, a smile tugging at her lips as she squeezed you tightly, “It’s so good to see you again, Y/N. I’ve missed you! You look amazing.”
You bashfully hugged your friend, her hair tickling your nose as you returned the sentiment, “I missed you too, Christine.”
“And this is Charlie,” Stephen said a little urgently. You and Christine pulled away from each other to see an uncomfortable Stephen and an overly excited Charlie.
“Lovely to meet you too! Huge fan, huge!” Charlie beamed as he hugged you quickly.
“Oh,” You looked to Stephen and Christine who were too amused with your anguish at the moment, “Fun.”
“Sit, sit, join us, I’ve been dying to try this place!” Charlie cooed as he sat down, pulling Christine’s chair while Stephen pulled out yours. “I’m so excited to finally talk to you both! Christine has talked so much about you, and, of course, I’m a huge fan.”
You glanced to your right to Stephen, who offered you a reassuring smile, even though his eyes sparkled with mischief. You slowly shook your head at him and returned your attention to Charlie, who started to coo about how cool the Avengers were and the things he’d seen you guys do were unreal.
At one point, Charlie paused to offer his condolences about Tony, and thank you on his behalf. Christine and Stephen had watched you with bated breath to see how you’d react. Instead of breaking down like they had feared, you had thanked Charlie for his kind words and changed the subject.
Just before dessert, Charlie excused himself to the restroom, leaving the three of you alone. Christine sighed happily as she leaned forward and stared at the two of you, “I’m so glad you two are back together, nothing makes me happier. I’ve really been rooting for you guys.”
You choked on your wine while Stephen quickly caught Christine’s eye and shook his head ever so slightly. Christine looked confused by this reaction from the two of you. You set your glass down and coughed a little bit, “We um, we aren’t together.”
“Oh, oh, um, sorry,” she laughed nervously. “Sorry. I just….you two look amazing together, like, better than before. I thought you had worked things out —“
“No, um, we’re not, no,” You shook your head and stared down at your lap as Charlie returned.
Charlie clapped his hands together, “Onto dessert now, yeah? That, um, that pear tequila foam over the lavender sorbet sounds divine.”
You slowly turned to look at Stephen, your chest filling with air as you sucked in deeply and tried not to shout about the tiny clit-sized portions. Stephen sipped his wine, smirking behind the glass as he reached under the table and patted your thigh.
You missed that.
You missed the soft touches on your leg under the table, his hand resting over yours, how Stephen always pushed your hair back for you when it was in the way, the way he would pull you onto his lap or pull you into bed with him. You missed your intimacy with Stephen, but you were too scared of the ‘What If’s’ that waited.
While you were just about to dig into dessert, you decided to bring up another topic that had been bothering you since you heard about dinner that evening, and since, well, you couldn’t stop thinking about Stephen, you needed to force something different on your mind.
“Christine, I’m sorry I didn’t go to your wedding, and I’m….I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you the last couple of years.”
Christine lowered her spoon to look at you. With a soft smile on her face, she nodded, “It’s okay, Y/N. I’ll admit, I was sad you didn’t come to the wedding, but I understand. I’m just happy to see you out and about again. We’re good, Stark, don’t worry.”
The two of you smiled at each other, Charlie commenting this was a precious moment while Stephen said nothing. Charlie was right, this was a precious moment. You were doing so much better now than you had been the first time Stephen had seen you. You were dealing with your life and loss and you finally resembled the woman he had fallen in love with before.
After dinner, the four of you said your goodbyes with a promise to see each other once again, Charlie commenting that he’d love to go to Stark tower one day. You said nothing but smiled and nodded to him as the two went in one direction. You looked up to Stephen who shook his head and said, “He’s endearing yet obnoxious.”
“Like the world’s most annoying dog,” you sighed. “I’m starving.”
“I figured you were,” Stephen extended his arm to you for you to grab on to. “Shall we?”
“Yes, please. I —“
Suddenly, interrupting your lovely night out, you heard a terrifying screeching noise. It looked like the world in front of you was tearing as a light blue crack appeared in front of you. It stretched open as a terrifying beast with six eyes, green goo dropping from its mouth and eyes came through. Seeing the amount of eyes, you realized it was what Stephen had been fighting earlier in the day, a Darghulakk. Three tentacles like knives stabbed into the earth as he exited the portal. Two short, stubby, claws for arms held the portal open as it finished coming through, all eyes locking on Stephen.
“Okay,” Stephen cleared his throat as he grabbed his cloak from his breast pocket and shook it out before placing it on his shoulders. “So I didn’t kill it.”
“Stephen — “
“Watch out!” Stephen threw his cloak to you, the cloak wrapping around you and flying away with you quickly while Stephen was running backwards, hurling spells left and right as the beast came at him.
Stephen was smacked by one of the tentacles and thrown into a building. He hit the ground hard but managed to jump back just as a tentacle would have pierced his abdomen. Instead, it hit the ground between his legs and broke through the concrete. Stephen stood up to run and make space, but the beast’s tongue shot out and wrapped around him tightly, lifting him into the air as it shrieked and prepared to eat him.
Was this it? Was life really so cruel that it would take Stephen away from you like this? Just when you were becoming comfortable with the losses you’d suffered, finally managing to deal, cope, even live a little, and life was here to quite literally rip Stephen from your grasp.
Before Stephen could free himself, he heard a clap. The monster suddenly stilled. No noise came from it. Stephen watched as the head slowly slithered off of its neck before hitting the ground. The rest of the body collapsed, Stephen did as well, and he quickly freed himself.
Standing behind the creature was you, a dark look on your face as you stared at the monster’s corpse. Your hands were outstretched in front of you, laying flat on top of one another showing that you were the one that had clapped. Stephen stood up and walked towards you quickly over the monster’s corpse.
“It was going to eat you,” you said quickly, eyes focused on the body. “It was going to eat you, Stephen, and I couldn’t lose you again.”
“I haven’t fought anything or anyone since Thanos,” you confessed. “Wanda was the first time I had intentionally used my powers. I didn’t even know I still could, but let’s be honest, that wasn’t really a fight. And then I saw this monster and I saw you and I didn’t think I just did it. I didn’t think I could do this. I clapped and sent a targeted vibration to its neck and cut its head off. Separate the head from the body and it’s dead. It’s dead. You’re not dead.”
“I’m not dead,” Stephen repeated slowly as he lowered your hands and stood in front of you. “I’m okay. I’m here. I’m not dead.”
“You’re not dead,” you repeated slowly as you focused on your breathing. “You’re not dead.”
“I told you, I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. Nothing will keep us apart. I promise you, not a witch, not some gross, ugly monster, nothing. I’m here with you for however long you’d have me,” Stephen confessed.
You looked Stephen over from head to toe. He was fine. There were scratches on him, some dirt, but he was fine.. He was standing there alive and well. He wasn’t a pile of dust. He was alive and well and you had forgiven him about Tony.
Stephen was here, in front of you, staring down at you and waiting to see what you’d do or say next. For someone he had known for so long being in control, and so sure of herself and headstrong, these last few years had shown such a vulnerable, unsure side of you and right now, Stephen didn’t know what to do.
Stephen was fine. He was fine, and you were fine. Everyone was fine and alive, but you two didn’t seem to be living. You were forbidding yourselves from the pleasures of one another, forbidding yourselves from acting out your deepest desires out of fear, fear of moments just like this that could take away something you loved in an instant.
You know who was living? Christine. She was living her best life, an incredibly successful surgeon, a magical marriage to a man she was head over heels in love with, Christine was happy, living, not held back by fear of loss or what may come in the future. She was living in the present, letting herself be filled with unadulterated happiness.
“I don’t want to lose you, Stephen,” you said quietly as you finally looked up to meet his gaze. “I can’t lose you.”
“I know, sweetheart,” He said quietly as his hands came up to cradle your face. “You haven’t lost me. I’m right here. You saved me. I’m fine.”
“And I won’t lose you,” you told him. “I just won’t.”
He didn’t know where you were going with this, “Okay. That’s okay. You won’t. You have me.”
Unable to hold yourself back anymore, you reached out to grab Stephen’s robes. You yanked until he stumbled forward and nearly fell on top of you. You desperately mashed your lips against his, those familiar feelings of old romance washing over you as heat flooded your veins.
Stephen’s hands came around your back and pulled you close, partially to deepen the kiss, partially to stabilize himself after nearly falling and crushing you. His eyes crinkled as it felt like a shock hit his chest, a blooming feeling overtaking him from the middle as he wondered if this was really happening.
When Stephen opened his eyes, you were standing, lips parted, panting as you nodded to him, “I’m not losing you again, Stephen Strange.”
Relief washed over him as he smiled, “You’ll always have me, Y/N Stark.”
Stephen: I just don’t know what’s gotten into her! Wanda was always the sweet one!
Wong: And me?
Stephen: You’re the smart one.
You: And me?
Stephen: Uh. You’re the other one.
Got It Made ➳ Stephen Strange (18+)
➳ request: "would you like to go somewhere a little more private?"
➳ a/n: sorry it took me so long, babe! but here you go! ALSO!!!! ***if you want the BEST experience for this fic, LISTEN TO THE SONG AS YOU READ. i promise it's worth it. :)****
➳ summary: At one of Tony Stark's many parties, Stephen and you can't stop visually ripping the other's clothes off. When he suggests getting someplace else a little more private, that only leads to one destination... His car.
➳ warnings: smut; oral m!receiving(road head), unprotected sex, degradation (slightly)
➳ || Stephen Strange masterlist || main masterlist || who I write for 💓 ||
The way Stephen looked at you from across the room had your heart pounding violently in your chest. The sorcerer looked delectable and quite ravishing in his well-pressed suit. The room was full of attendees of Tony Stark’s lavish party, but all you could find yourself focusing on was the beauty of Stephen. As he nursed a drink in hand, he was playing with his car keys in his pocket. Parked outside was the pretty, slick convertible that could go very fast if he needed to get you out of here.
His blue orbs rested on you, his mouth-watering. The curves in your dress had his mind running rampant, his pants tightening as he felt his member grow harder. He knew within a few more precious moments, he’d be rock solid and he hoped no one noticed. Or if anyone did, he wished for it to be you.
A song came on the speakers as Stephen grabbed up another glass of whiskey. Striding over, you tucked your tongue into your cheek, the scent of his cologne quickly overcoming your senses.
“I see the way those eyes beg for me,” Stephen’s cocky nature wasted no time in appearing.
Laughing quietly, you roll your eyes at him. “Who said anyone in this room was begging for you, Doctor?” You curved your head to the side as you looked up to meet his blistering gaze. Stephen sipped from the drink, his lips forming a grin.
“Well, when I can smell the arousal that drips from you, Darling…” He leaned his head over to whisper, warm breath fanning over your neck. A slight gasp flooded from your mouth as his tongue connected to your throat, slowly drawing a line down. Your hand was firmly pressing into his chest as you fought the urge to let your eyes roll back. “It means you’re begging for my touch,”
Your breath caught in your throat as he slipped a hand around your waist, pulling you close. He turned you around so your back was pressed to his chest, your eyes looking out at the crowd gathered at Tony’s party. The feel of his member pressing into your bottom had your mouth watering as you licked your lips.
“Really, now?” You whispered.
Stephen chuckled as he finished off his drink and set the glass down on a nearby table. Using his hands, he forced your hips to move in tiny circles against his throbbing erection that was enraged by the feel of you beginning to twist around him.
“Oh, yes,” Stephen answered, pulling you flush to him. You bit back the moan that threatened to escape, especially when he was inching to make a public display of your sex. His fingers grazed your thighs until he slipped his hand into the opened slit of your dress. He was so close to your dripping core that you threatened to buck your hips into his palm.
His next words laced your ears like honey and revved your engine to the loudest volume.
“Would you like to go somewhere a little more private?” He questioned, ghosting his hand over your drenched panties.
“Please, Stephen,” You practically rolled with a moan.
Stephen grinned and pushed his hand into the front pocket of his dress slacks. Retrieving the keys to his coupe parked outside. You felt his hand snake through yours as his fingers offered you a gentle squeeze, the two of you sneaking away from the party without anyone noticing.
Before Stephen pushed you into the Lamborghini, he began by pressing your back to the door. Capturing your lips for a searing kiss, you hissed against his lips as he wasted no time shoving his tongue into your opened mouth. You groaned at the taste of him, your mind racing with the impurest thoughts of the man.
“Stephen, p-please,” You said through a pant as the sorcerer worked his hands to weave through the slit of your dress once again, hands smoothing over your delicate flesh. He saw you as a sweet little petal, a petal that he could absolutely destroy and have a blubbering mess as he screwed you. He had known you for a while, and this wouldn’t be the first time you two end up in this sticky situation.
“Such an impatient kitten,” He cooed, opening the door. You escaped into the lush interior, Stephen hopping in next to you on the driver’s side. The car rumbled to life and you were quickly watching as Tony Stark’s penthouse disappeared behind you. Your heart was pounding in your chest as Stephen routed the two of you for that someplace more private, so he could expertly bring you to your knees.
But while he sped down the streets, curving around hills of the city, you couldn’t stop yourself. Reaching over into the driver’s seat, Stephen’s eyes glanced between your fumbling hands and the road.
“What are you doing?” He laughed.
“Need you,” You whispered, successfully unfastening his belt. He heard the whip of you jerking it out of its loops and tossing it into the small back seat, your fingers reaching to unhook your seatbelt. Once you were all the way over his console, you pressed your hand against his thigh before stroking him through his boxers. His eyes were blown wide with a high that was unexplainable. He shifted his hips slightly, giving you the ability to have him all.
“You look so good, baby,” You whispered, dropping your head. As Stephen pushed the car, the scenery passing by in flashes, he released a kitty-throbbing moan the second your lips wrapped around his length. Using your hands to twist around his shaft as you came up and down, Stephen was cursing under his breath.
“Shit, Kitten,” He growled, one hand leaving the steering wheel so that he could run his fingers through your hair. “You’re always such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” He groaned, the feel of your tongue licking hard stripes up the entirety of his length making him hiss. You sucked around his head lightly, the sensitive motion of you padding your tongue around his tip practically bringing Stephen to bust right then.
You caressed and rolled his balls in your hands, his grip tightening around the wheel as he hit the next curve, full speed. You bobbed up and down, practically miking him with your mouth as you could feel the slick of him around your hands. Pulling back, Stephen nearly lost himself altogether when you spit onto his throbbing length before taking him fully into your mouth, the gruntled noises of him hitting the back of your throat making him shake.
He was free living at this moment. Nothing in the world mattered except for the fact he had an open road, a pretty girl with her mouth on his member, and speed. Speed was all it took to press him on. You could feel him inching closer to his release as he continued to whip around the curvatures of the road, his entire body melting above you. He fisted some of your hair and pulled, bringing you to groan loudly which sent vibrations pulsating around his length.
“Yes, daddy!” You moaned aloud for him, Stephen’s length twitching repeatedly in your mouth.
“Baby girl, you know how I get when you address me like that,” Stephen reminded you. You giggled around him and pushed yourself harder, desiring nothing more than the hot strings of his cum to hit the back of your throat. You wanted the taste of him.
“Come, Stephen, please. Come for me,” You coaxed him as you caressed him, running your thumb over his tip. With a few more licks and a hard suck, Stephen was gone. The pedal was certainly pressed to the metal as Stephen came with a hard groan. Ropes of his cum, hot and salty, penetrated the back of your throat. You moaned and whined around him, licking him up, ensuring not to waste a single drop. Stephen was surprised he hadn’t lost himself yet entirely, thankful he could occupy his mind on the road all the while experiencing his devout pleasure.
“Screw this, I gotta take you,” Stephen moaned as he veered off to the side of the road. You heard as the Lambo crushed limbs and other objects beneath its wheels. He had lured the two of you into an abandoned lot where he wasted no time in capturing your lips. He tasted the salty residue on your mouth, his hand wrapping around your throat as you stroked his sensitive length, feeling the warmth in your hand.
It didn’t take long for Stephen to bounce back for the second round. Stepping out of the car just after he managed to pull his pants back up, you squeaked when he ripped you out of the car and replaced you with himself. He was hiking your dress up before he even pulled you back in, the door wide open.
“Panties. Off. Now,” He commanded. You nodded, pushing them shakily down your legs, the excitement coursing through your veins. You had only dreamt of Stephen railing you in his Lambo. The expensive sports car oftentimes lived vicariously in your mind, beckoning you forward. You dreamt of finishing on his pristine leather seats while he coaxed you through a heavy orgasm.
And now you were getting just what you wanted.
Stephen’s pants were long-gone as he pulled you back in. Setting you on top of his length, your hips were raised before you slowly lowered. Stephen and you both gasped as he entered you, his warmth embedding inside of you.
“Oh!” You groaned, hands braced upon his shoulders. His length was massive inside of you and he stretched you out beyond imagination. What felt like literal ripping soon transitioned to utter pleasure when he pulled you securely on top of him.
“So tight for me, pretty girl,” He crooned. Your eyes squeezed shut as Stephen wrapped his hands around your hips, but he was occupied with the two clothed breasts in front of him. “Don’t give up on me now, kitten,” He whispered, kissing your chest. “Wanna feel you make a mess on me… You wanted this, right? Take it. Take my cock like the good girl I know you are,”
His lips were fervently creating love bites on the tops of your breasts before he pulled the dress apart to reveal the spillage. Your hips started to move in wild circles as you groaned which turned into heart-stopping moans. The type of moans Stephen only heard in pornos, the pretty girl riding him was creating with her mouth alone.
He sucked on your nipple, flicking it around in his mouth as you gripped the strands of his hair.
His hands gripped your hips, ensuring to leave the imprints of his fingernails behind. His length stretched you out as he penetrated your g-spot over and over again, bringing you to screams.
“Stephen!” You gasped loudly as the man held you in place, swiveling your hips in circles.
“Atta girl, scream it,” He encouraged.
“S-Stephen!” You moaned.
“Louder,” He commanded.
“STEPHEN!” You screamed.
“Who owns you?” He asked.
“YOU!” You cried, burying your head against his shoulders.
“Who’s my pretty little cock-drunken slut?” He asked in your ear.
“M-Me!” You whimpered.
Your high was slowly arriving. He watched your mouth fall open to which he pressed chastised kisses to the corners. You hissed and writhed around him. He bounced you faster on top of him, the sound of your skin colliding bringing you to literal tears as you anticipated the pleasure to rock over you.
“G-gonna come,” You stammered.
“You wanna come? Be my guest, sweetheart. Come for me,” Stephen spoke darkly.
Coming undone around him, you screamed as he slammed his hips upwards into yours, feeling your walls tighten and grip around him. Your cries were piercing the interior of the car as he held you flush to him, your lips lazily stealing kisses from his overused mouth.
His hips slowly rocked until they stopped, your forehead pressed to his.
Gasping for air, you tangled your arms around his neck as he smiled up at you.
He felt the way your warmth wrapped around his length, while his release was buried deep inside of you. The feel of your mixed juices leaked down your thighs and onto his.
Looking back at him, you cracked a smile. “I’ve always wanted to do that,” You gulped.
Stephen cocked an eyebrow. “What? Have me screw you in the car?” He laughed.
Sheepishly, you nodded.
Stephen was amused by this. He wrapped his arms back around you and kissed you passionately.
“All you had to do was ask, baby,” He told you, leaving kisses on your neck.
tagging: **I KNOW THIS ISN'T EVERYONE. there's one of you who asked me to be tagged, and i said i did, and i went back to look... and you werne't. so if you're supposed to be tagged in anything strange related, LET ME KNOW! 💗**
In Another Life
Stephen Strange x Reader
( Strange Supreme from What If…? )
Chapter 4 of 4. | Read part 1 | read part 3
Summary: When all is said and done, you couldn’t help but feel pity for the man who lost it all. Despite the risks, what shall you do with the growing desire to stay in a universe you don’t belong in?
Warnings: Spoilers for MoM and What if…? 18+ themes. Angst, Cheating (?), Hurt/Comfort, Violence, Gore, Manipulation, Imprisonment, Non-con.
Strong hands shook you from your deep slumber. Groggily, you slowly opened your eyes to see who was waking you up this time. When you saw Stephen’s face, you immediately remembered what happened before you blacked out and you let out a scream, scooting away from the intruder as much as possible.
“N-No, get away from me!” you cried out. You tried to run, but you soon felt the painful tug of the metallic chains against your skin. You looked around and not only realized that you were in a glass cell, but your wrists were chained down, special chains decorated in runes so you could not use any of your magic. You let out a sob and struggled against its hold on you, trying to get out. “Let me go! Please, let me go. I don’t wanna be here—”
“(Y/n), it’s me!” the other man shouted and gripped your arm so you could look at him. When you finally looked up, you started to sob but for a completely new reason: the man before you was your Stephen. Your husband. He came back.
When he heard your sobs, he immediately rushed to help you out, golden sparks flying around you as he mimicked a chain that could cut you free. You stayed obediently still and looked down at your position on the ground. Only then did you notice the chains on your ankles too. What the hell did the other Stephen do to you while you were unconscious? You started to hyperventilate while you thought about all the horrifying scenarios the other Stephen could have done to you. It took your husband shaking you to go back to reality and look at him in confusion. “What the hell are you doing here?” He didn’t answer you for a while, moving instead to hug you tight. “God, I thought he killed you,” he murmured into your ear, finally letting himself release some tension in his body. He finally found you and you were finally going home.
After he hugged you, he helped you stand up and gently put your sling ring onto your fingers as spoke. “We don’t have much time. I managed to put him in a pocket of the mirror dimension to keep him busy for a while. America will be meeting us upstairs.” Ah. So you were in the basement this entire time. At this point, there was no chance of the other Stephen ever redeeming himself in your eyes. This was traumatizing, to say the least, and you’ll never let him gain control over you again.
With newfound resilience, you persevered through the large basement with your husband supporting your body as much as he could, You used some of your magic to help you both teleport to the main room, not wanting to waste energy walking up the long flight of stairs. He let out a sigh of relief and flashed you a small smile before he rushed you over to where American stood in front of the star-shaped hole.
“It’s so good to see you, (y/n),” she said quickly before hugging you close. You could tell from her behavior that she had been worried sick, just as much as Stephen was when he tried to find ways to get back to you. You were glad they came. It was dangerous, but they loved you too much to let you stay here forever. You were lucky that you could consider them like family to you. Stephen sighed and tugged on your arm. “As much as I would like to have a reunion party right now, we need to get back to our dimension before--!”
Stephen suddenly let out a piercing scream before blood spluttered from his mouth. America cried out in fear as she made her way towards his collapsing form. She took one scan of his body before noticing the giant spear piercing through his side. Her eyes widened at the horrific sight. “He’s awake, (y/n)! We need to get out of here!” You nodded and put up a shield of defense, not wanting any more onslaughts that could prevent you all from going back. You both dragged Stephen towards the portal, only to be met with the terrifying variant walking from the portal and towards you both. Screaming, America dragged Stephen’s body back while you lowered your shields and instead wrapped the shield around all of you. You all retreated back while the intimidating creature slowly made his way towards you.
“I see you’ve woken up from your sleep, my rose,” he cooed out to you, but it sounded like multiple creatures were speaking through him. The horns on his head and the tentacles surrounding his body were much larger and more present than during your own confrontation with him. You needed to be on full guard now. You don’t think he will spare you at all this time. Taking out your golden sword with your sling ring, you stood your ground once more. Though your sword was slightly fazing in and out due to your weakened state, you did not let it deter you from your one mission: keep your family safe. When Strange saw your sword faze in and out, he chuckled, giving you a patronizing look. “Darling, you know it’s futile to fight against me, right? You’re too weak.” He paused and then calmed himself down, the creatures moving back inside him when he morphed into the man that imitated the look of your husband. Not your lover, an imposter. You narrowed your eyes as he extended out his hand in compassion.
“Darling, I... really don’t want to kill you. Please, come back to bed?” Even despite everything, you were still curious as to whether or not he would actually hurt you enough to kill you. He almost did it before when you tried to rebel against his wishes. He continued. “Please, I cannot live without you. He,” he emphasized and pointed to your injured husband. “cannot give you the love and adoration that you want; that you deserve.” You knew what he was doing. He was trying to calm you down while appealing to your love of romance. He knew that your husband would never give you undying professions of love, never dedicate poems and music to you, never make you feel like the queen of the universe. You eyes wavered, only paying attention to him while keeping your shield strong. His gaze softened when he closed his hand slowly and put it to his side. It was as if he wanted you to feel pity for him. How ridiculous.
But your contempt for him didn’t last long when he spoke again. “I can give you everything I have within me. I can give up my desire to destroy other universes and give up my lust for power if it means having you by my side again.” He kneeled down, holding his hand out once more to you. This time, you almost had your walls down. “I would humble myself before you if I could see the look of love you have blessed me with during our short time together.” His words were told much for you to process all at once. You couldn’t say anything to deny his words because the worst part about his speech was that you could confirm all of it to be true. He worshipped your body and made you feel like a queen when he knew you held love for him too. You could make out the tears in his eyes as he approached your strong stance. He lowered his gaze down to the floor. “Please, (y/n). I don’t want to be alone again,” he whispered pathetically to you before he silenced himself so you could make a decision.
This was tempting. Not because you wanted the love Strange was offering, but because it was your chance to prevent this Strange from destroying the multiverse. You could protect your husband and America from the destruction this variant was capable of causing. You couldn’t let your husband die again.
You looked back at your family behind you. America was struggling to control her powers enough to open another portal while hyperventilating in fear of the variant’s violence. She needed to get her new family home and safe. You knew she couldn’t forgive herself for not being able to save you and your husband. Your husband was fighting to stay awake, one hand strengthening your shield despite his severe injury. Your eyes watered at the sight and you knew you had to make the most difficult choice in your entire life. You lowered your shields slowly as you walked over to where the variant was kneeling. His body was shaking from the tears he’s shed for your clear unreciprocated love, but he had to try. He had to beg you to stay. If you stayed, then maybe he could help you learn to love him for who he is. He was your Stephen. You only needed to give him another chance.
When you finally reached him, you looked down at him, your own tears falling gracefully down your cheeks. Even in pain, you looked as beautiful as the day he first met you. His eyes were filled with hope as you hesitated to speak. “If I agree to stay with you here forever, do you promise that you’ll keep the multiverse safe?” you asked tiredly, your emotions leaving your body in defeat. You could hear America scream at you to get back and come home with her, but you didn’t care. This was the only way for you to keep your husband safe. Your Stephen... you only hope he could forgive you for your sacrifice.
Meanwhile, the variant in front of you gasped in happiness, immediately reaching out to take your hand and kiss the fingertips. “I promise with my entire life, (y/n). I only want you. I don’t want anything else in the entire world except you,” he spoke earnestly, looking at you with that sickening adoration that you’ve grown to hate. Despite your disgust, you leaned down to his level and cupped his cheek. His gaze was solely on you and only you now. Knowing what to do, you nodded, sealing your fate. At your agreement, he let out a sob, resting your foreheads together. Finally, he had you.
The celebration was short lived as you saw this Stephen gasp, his eyes wide in shock. You felt something drip onto your pants and you looked down to see the sight of blood. You screamed, immediately pulling away from his embrace. You were just in time to catch the look of shock and defeat on his face before collapsing on the floor. Blood seeped out from underneath him while you finally saw what killed him. Your Stephen stood behind him, the spear that was once in his side now stabbed straight through the variant’s heart. He looked at the dead body with disgust and satisfaction before he looked at you with love in his eyes. He soon collapsed, holding onto his bloody wound. You shot up and collected him in your arms, tears in your eyes. When you finally looked into his eyes, it was only filled with love. It wasn’t intense, like Strange’s, but gentle. The soothing swirls in his eyes, though dull, helped you calm down again. The faint smile on his face told you that he still loved you and respected your actions. He knew you were trying to protect him. So much thoughts and emotions were conveyed between the two of you when looking at each other. This was more beautiful than any poem and song could describe. “You saved me,” you whimpered out, tears now falling onto his cheek. He chuckled brokenly, reaching up to caress the side of your head. “I love you, you idiot. I wasn’t going to let him take my partner away from me,” he choked out lightheartedly.
He coughed up more blood and you panicked. You looked back at America who was opening up the portal successfully. You sighed in gratitude as you helped your husband get up. As you went through the portal, you looked back at the dead body in the middle of the messy room. At the end of the day, you couldn’t help but feel bad for him anyways. He was and will always be a lonely man. Noticing where your gaze led, Stephen rubbed your side and kissed your forehead. “He did it to himself, (y/n).” You processed his words and nodded, helping him through the portal entirely. When the portal closed, you made peace in your mind with what you’ve experienced and now focused on getting Stephen to a hospital bed. Thankfully, America teleported you all to a hospital.
Letting the doctors take him away from you, you held onto America beside you, only hoping that he would be okay.
Knocking on the wooden door, you opened it to find your husband sitting up on the bed. He was shirtless, the bandages on his body serving as the only reminder to you that all you experienced wasn’t a dream. Two weeks ago, you finally made it back to your reality, but in the time that you were gone, the Sanctum became a mess. Papers strewn everywhere and books misplaced, you called up Wong and asked him what had happened. He explained to you that there was a fight and that the Sanctum’s contents were all safe. The Sanctum was something to handle later. When you set Stephen down on the bed after he was discharged a week ago, you finally realized how little sleep you had gotten in the past few weeks. The next few days were spent recovering with sleep. These events led you to the present with you now relishing the safety within the Sanctum’s walls and the love of your life alive and recovering.
“Hellooooo, earth to (y/n),” Stephen said teasingly. The familiar phrase snapped you out of your thoughts and made you panic, your step faltering backwards against the door. He blinked and tilted his head, silently wondering what had caused you to react to an innocent phrase like that. You just remembered the variant Strange saying that to you before, which caused you to panic. Remembering where you are now caused you to relax a little and shake your head as you made your way towards the bed. “Sorry, just got a flashback to when he said the exact same thing.” He saddened at your words and took the tray of food into his hands. He made a mental note to ask you to go to therapy for your trauma from the other Stephen, but right now, he needed to comfort you and remind you that he wasn’t like the other man that tried to hurt you.
“Hey. Eat breakfast with me?” he offered, tugging your hand down gently. You smiled at him and settled into the bed with him. You fed some food to him with his teasing insistence and talked with him about funny stories with Wong and the Avengers. You couldn’t tell Stephen yet about his variant’s voice talking to you inside your head, but you knew that he would always be there for you no matter what. You both laughed with each other as he kissed your hand lovingly while the birds chirped in the distance. Sirens blared in the distance and you could hear the hotdog vendor across the street arguing with a customer. You smiled to yourself.
You were home.
A/n: Here you go, guys! Last chapter! I hope you all enjoyed this series and I cannot wait for you all to read my next series “Bridgerton x Marvel: The Race Against Time.”
Waking up || S. Strange
[picture is not mine!]
pairing: Stephen Strange x Stark!Reader
word count: 3.4k
summary: Waking up beside the man you love more than words could ever describe is something entirely different.
warnings: so much fluff and sugar, you'll die from a sugar shock (maybe), the morning voice of Stephen (yes, that is a warning), kissing, cuddling in bed, suggestive topics because c'mon, they love each other so much, that's why this one is probably kinda 18+ (idk), an "I am so very sorry" end.
author's note: After my first ever uploaded story about Stephen (click me! no, click me!) I impulsively decided to create my own little universe around these two lovestruck fools. Enjoy!
It was quiet inside the halls of the Sanctum Sanctorum while the sun rose steadily over the horizon to start a new day. Only the faint noise of the buzzing streets of New York City was heard where busy people went to their busy but boring jobs and didn’t spend a second glance at the building standing tall at 177A Bleecker Street. If they had, they would’ve gotten the strangest of all views and could’ve had the strangest of all stories to tell. Who would believe them that they saw a floating red cape in one of the windows without an actual human being wearing it? And if they had stood longer than a few seconds to witness the magic within this strange building, the busy New Yorker could’ve seen a Sorcerer hot on the cloak’s heels.
But instead, the steps and grumbling of Wong only woke a sleepy woman in one of the four-poster beds belonging inside the Sanctum. A nest of untamed hair peeked from underneath the large blanket in which she had rolled herself while dreaming of design plans, upcoming orders, and budget meetings. Nobody had said it was a pleasant dream that accompanied the usually busy woman.
A yawn escaped the fort of blankets and pillows, emerging with stretched arms and a sigh full of contentment before the nose of the Stark peeked over the blanket burrito. Ever since understanding how comfortable a blanket could be, she had the habit of transforming herself into a blanket burrito – and stealing every piece of fabric in the process of it. Tearing her mouth wide to yawn again, she rolled as slowly and carefully as she could muster in her current state onto the other side and pulled the blanket with her. Surprisingly, the lower half of the man lying beside her was covered with one of the blankets that usually had its place over the armchair in the adjacent walk-in closet. She couldn’t help herself but softly smile at the view in front of her droopy eyes, still incredibly heavy from the lack of a healthy amount of sleep.
Scooting closer to the black-haired man, she slowly unraveled her own blanket to share it with him like she always did as soon as she opened her eyes morning after morning. After she was content with the result, the Stark woman scooted even closer to nuzzle herself into his warm, inviting side before resting her head tiredly on his chest.
These mornings, lazy mornings, were her favorite because she finally could enjoy his presence, warmth, and love without fearing the alarm to get off to bring them both back into reality. She hated the concept of reality when she could stay with him but had to be a responsible adult again as soon as the sun was up. But today, she didn’t care about responsibilities, being an adult, and gracing the compound with her presence. Today, she would stay in bed as long as she could with the man she loved more than anything else in this world. Neither of them had to save the world today. The superhero exchange market was closed until the end of the weekend. Humanity had to call her brother and his not-so-secret secret boyband group for urgent matters.
Sighing again, the Stark tried to find a comfortable position on the soft mattress but without waking the man next to her, before giving up and just entangling her legs with the other pair in this bed. As soon as skin touched skin, the woman hissed lowly at the feeling of icy cold feet and almost jerked back onto her bedside. Throwing a glance down along the furniture, she determined the problem. With just another sigh – this time with much more frustration – she tried to push the fabric over his feet without waking him up. But his raspy voice thwarts her fruitless attempts.
“I thought we said something about sleeping in,” Stephen mumbled groggily, still half asleep and his blue eyes barely open. With a deeply apologetic expression on her beautiful face, the Stark leaned down and kissed the corner of his mouth gently. “I’m sorry, darling,” she whispered, nuzzled against his cheek, and peppering his warm skin with soft pecks of her lips. “I stole the blankets again, and only tried to warm up your ice block-like feet.”
The Sorcerer Supreme hummed contently, eyes already fully closed again and a barely visible smile on his tempting lips. The woman laid herself over the expansion of his chest, both arms crossed over the hard muscles and bed the chin on her arms. “Blanket thief.” Still raspy from sleep, Stephen’s voice rumbled in his chest underneath her, and the woman chuckled. Glistening eyes were trained on the Sorcerer in front of them, and she smiled full of adoration and happiness.
“You knew that long enough to consider not letting me in your bed and near your blankets,” she grinned while bending her head to pepper the bearded chin with kisses. Chuckling softly at the tickly feeling of his stubbles, strong arms wrapped themselves around the delicate body on him, and Stephen pulled the woman even closer. Now they were nose to nose, and the doctor finally opened his eyes fully. “I like having you in my blankets, Miss Stark.” – “Of course, you do, Doctor Strange,” came the retort instantly while memories of last night flooded her mind.
Tangled bodies, flying pieces of clothing, and soft moans echoed through the bedroom after they had finally made it onto the bed, but not without shattering Wong’s worldview and probably marked him for the rest of his life. She still felt his rough, but nevertheless soft, hands on her body and felt the desperation behind each searing kiss that matched her own. Her lips were sore in the best possible way, and her fingers ached to bury them back into the black strands of the man underneath her. She was sure that he remembered as well because Stephen gripped her hips even tighter and tried to pull her even closer, even though not a single atom would fit between their bodies.
A low growl escaped him as soon as the Stark gave in to the desire and buried the fingers of one of her hands back in his hair, lowering her face closer to his. Stephen lifted his head to meet her halfway in an equally desperate kiss like he had given her only hours ago, but the woman had other plans. Instead of kissing him like her life depended on it, her soft lips barely touched his, before wandering from one corner of his mouth to the other, to the tip of his nose, his cheekbones. His forehead. His eyes fluttered shut and remained that way until she straddled him completely and dedicated her attention to his hands.
She loved his hands. They’re bigger than hers, swallowing her hands complete when the Sorcerer grasped them to pin her onto the bed, hold her hand in public or cover them while spooning the woman through the night. The scars reminded her of delicate lines on expensive paintings her parents started to collect and which Tony kept securely locked inside one of their many vaults. Lines that ultimately formed branches and full blooming trees, radiating the calmest of feelings the youngest Stark child had ever felt while looking at a painting. The scars reminded her what a fighter the man she loved was and how he overcame obstacles some people would never face in their whole life. And thus, Stephen Strange became one of the strongest persons she ever had the pleasure to know.
Soft lips left kiss after kiss on his warm skin, warm eyes laid upon his deadly handsome face on which a loving smile tucked at his lips. Blue eyes never left her face, admiring the view as he usually does, and she took her time to kiss every inch of every scar – until she reached his fingertips. “What are you doing, love?” His still raspy - and hot as hell -morning voice asked, full of curiosity, even though Stephen already knew the drill. Sometimes the woman upon him needed to take her time to admire him – and to show him through tender acts like these how much she loved and valued him. Grinning down on the tired Sorcerer, the Stark shrugged nonchalantly and started to kiss the fingertips of his left hand.
A kiss on his thumb.
One on his index finger.
Now, his middle finger had its turn.
His ring finger got a kiss, and the Stark woman instantly lingered a bit longer. At some point, she wanted to see a ring on this finger. A ring that screamed for the entire world to see that this man belonged to her and her alone.
A last kiss on his pinkie finger before the woman moved straightly to his other hand. Stephen chuckled lovingly and shook his head in utter awe at this woman. “You are a strange one, darling.” Still grinning, she kissed the other thumb and cocked her head slightly. “Well, we have to match, love. You’re wearing the name, and I’m the fitting attitude.” It was easy as that, even though she desperately wanted to wear his name one day as well. It certainly wasn’t love at first sight – not on her part, at least – but now, after the disaster that was their dating episode and two years living in the relationship they started after date number twenty-three, she wanted nothing else. Maybe the doctor knew, maybe not; she didn’t really care because Natasha and Wanda would point it out to him in a more inconspicuous way if he didn’t start to think about it on his own. Her sisters – not biological, but on an even deeper level – would handle it if needed.
Nothing to worry about.
Stephen’s thumb and index finger gently grasped her chin and held it in place, so he could sit up between pillows and blankets. Nose to nose, they sat in their shared bed, and the Sorcerer couldn’t resist and rub them against each other. She could see how his bright eyes slowly fell shut, and her hands, which fell onto his chest at the sudden movement, rose with his deep inhale. Half-open lips touched hers, and the Stark couldn’t resist parting her lips too and sighing contently as soon as he kissed her lovingly.
“Someday…,” Stephen began, his hand now cradling her jawline and stroking her cheek, “Someday, you’re not only wearing the attitude, my love. Someday…” He only had to move not even two inches to brush lips over lips before kissing the woman like his life depended on it. Stephen’s hand clasped the Stark’s chin again, pulling her towards his awaiting lips and lured a breathy moan out of her body. He smiled a satisfied smile within the kiss while circling the other arm around her waist and pulling the soft body of the woman flush against his. Pressed against each other, he softly licked over her bottom lip before pulling only a mere inch away. She was out of breath, and the doctor showed his girlfriend one of his signature smug grins before he turned serious again. “You will wear my name, love because as soon as the time has come, I won’t tolerate it any longer that you’re walking around without a ring on your finger. Nobody knows that you’re mine.” Except for the hundreds of thousands of buyers of tabloids, she thought, smiling like a stupid teenager. “And I want this. I want you, for the rest of times.”
Leaning her forehead against his, the woman combed through his dark strands and nuzzled her nose against his. “And then you’re always saying that you are so bad with words. I don’t wanna hear this bullshit ever again,” she whispered, feeling tears full of utter happiness emerging. Apparently, she didn’t need her sisters because out of the blue, she knew with a shocking certainty that Stephen Strange loved her as much as she loved him.
The Sorcerer smiled at her words and pushed one of her locks behind her ear, kissing the tip of her nose. “Whatever you say, my love.” Sniffling, the Stark shook her head and laughed in disbelief. “If you wanna outdo this little speech of yours when the time comes, you really have to prepare something in advance, baby,” she said, with her hand settling in its usual spot at the nape of his neck, where she could play with the shorter black hair. Her other hand cradled his jawline now while her thumb stroked softly over his full bottom lip, where a smile tucked at its corner. “Don’t you worry, love. After it, there won’t be any other men in your thoughts.”
If he knew that he already has me wrapped around his fingers…
She grinned at that thought but started to groan as soon as the phone on the bedside table started to ring. Stephen furrowed his brows and shot the device a look that could kill a living human being in a matter of seconds. “Please say it isn’t work.” Stephen’s pleading words accompanied her as she bent over (but never left his lap, of course not) and got a hold of her still ringing and vibrating phone. An unfavorable picture of Tony beamed up towards her, and another groan left the younger Stark’s mouth. With an apologetic glance back to Stephen, she picked up.
“If you don’t have anything important to say, you can hang up directly, idiot. I’m on vacation.” Who needs greetings, right? A scoff came through. “I need fresh parts for my project. The kid blew it up.” Clattering was heard in the background, followed by a familiar voice. “I am so very sorry, Miss… Mrs... Doctor Stark! Please, tell her that I’m sorry, Mr. Stark, Sir! If you can hear me, M... Doctor Stark, I am sorry, and I will make it up to you, I promise!” The kid kept on apologizing, and Tony sighed. “You see with what I have to deal? I need adult contact, so could you just please skip your vacation? Speaking of the suspicious vacation: Since when do we do vacation? Did I miss a memo?”
While she listened to her brother with an exaggerated roll of her eyes, Stephen nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck and peppered soft kisses over the exposed skin over one of his shirts. She tried to push him away to prevent the bubbling giggle inside her throat the farther he got to her weak spots. But the doctor was relentless in his attempts.
Grinning, the Stark submitted to her fate and leaned her cheek on top of his head, whereas her fingers carded again through Stephen’s dangerously attractive grey strands. “I decided I needed a vacation, so I took one. I’m a grown adult, Tony, in case you missed the last… twenty-plus years? However, you have to deal with the kid and the parts alone. Check Hangar o-seven; there should be the newest shipping stored. If you need special-special parts, you’ll have to wait till Monday morning.” She put the phone from her ear and chuckled softly as Stephen’s beard tickled her sensitive neck. “You need to stop, love.” It was only a hushed whisper, but Tony seemed to have picked something up. “Wait a second. You’re not here until Monday?!” – “Nope.” Popping the p was a habit of hers every time she spoke to her brother. Another scoff came through the line. “Let me guess. You’re with him?”
At those words, Stephen raised his head from her neck, took the phone, and ignored the gasp of his love. “Douchebag Stark, always a pleasure, but your sister now has something far more important to attend, so if you’d leave a lovely message on her voicemail and wait for her until Monday, she would appreciate it very much. Have a wonderful weekend; she certainly will have it, and my regards to the spider kid.” And with that, he hung up and threw the phone onto the empty side of the bed after turning it off.
With wide, round eyes, she sat on his lap, astonishment plastered all over her face, and a gaping mouth was all she could muster at this very moment. But then, she grinned, laughed even, and cupped his face while Stephen embraced her hips with both his hands. “So, where were we again? Ah, yes,” the Sorcerer mumbled before pulling her core against his in a swift motion, holding her close, and smugly grinned at the breathy moan that escaped her lips. “You’ll be the death of me,” was all she could whisper before the urge to kiss him grew too strong to withstand it any second longer.
Giggle and laughter filled the now brightly lit bedroom as Stephen pulled the Stark tighter against his chest and tipped them over onto the empty side of the mattress.
Neither of them intended to get up any time soon.
She woke with a violent gasp, eyes flying open and a hand shakily outstretched to feel the empty and cold side of the bed. Turning her head, the Stark felt the first tear escaping her eye, but she wouldn’t believe what she saw.
He is just in the bathroom. Just in the bathroom…
A mantra formed in her mind, and she left the bed instantly. “Stephen?” She softly but shakily called while crossing the room and knocking at the ajar door. It opened through the pressure of her knuckles and revealed a bathroom covered in darkness. Tears stung in her searching eyes, the dream still clinging to her mind, and with a suppressed sob, the Stark ran to the door and tore it open.
The silence within the halls of the compound was deafening, but she rushed through each corridor, nonetheless, calling his name in search of him. She needed to find him, to feel him and his warmth, to hear his voice that would tell her that everything was alright, that the fear was only an illusion.
She rounded the corner and stood in the kitchen, where Steve and Natasha had a deep conversation with her brother. The three of them turned around at the sound of her voice while Rhodey sat on the couch in the living room, watching the scene with a compassionate expression.
“Hey, bubba. Everything alright?” Tony walked over to her; his arms opened invitingly to give her a much-needed hug if she wanted to have one. But he stilled in his movements as a question arose from her. “Where is Stephen?” Every person in this room exchanged shocked looks before Steve slowly came over. Tony was too shocked to even lower his still half-raised arms. “He… he is gone, love. Like all the others, he didn’t come back.” Big tearful eyes looked up at him, and slowly the Stark started to shake her head.
No. It’s not true. He was here only minutes ago. I still can feel him on my…
She looked down at her hands, clenching and unclenching them, trying to determine if the lingering feeling of his hair, his touch, was an illusion all along or if he still was with her. But she wasn’t sure.
“He… But… He was with me, I… I’m not crazy. Not crazy…” The last words were nothing more than a whisper. Natasha softly touched her shoulders and carefully stroked her hair. “You’re not crazy, we all know that, but he is gone, dorogoy (1). We lost the fight against Thanos three months ago, and Tony saw him as he… as he vanished, remember?” (1 – darling)
Natasha’s words finally pulled the Stark back into reality, out of the dream she had dreamed the previous night, after so many nights without any sleep, and reality hit her hard. Sobs racked through the weak and sleep-deprived body while hugging herself tightly. She felt as if she would fall apart in a matter of seconds, with no hold in this world and nobody to understand her fully. She was alone, lost, helpless. She wasn’t even sure how she was supposed to live further and tag along with the never-ending grief left to hold everything together. The last three months were already like a walk through hell, and her tormented soul couldn’t bring itself to try and mend away again.
Shaking her head profusely, the broken woman would’ve dropped to the ground if Tony wouldn’t have caught and pulled her into his arms. Holding the violently shaking body of his sister close to him while sob after sob escaped her mouth, he felt hopeless. “Everything will be alright, bubba. Everything…”
But she didn’t listen. She couldn’t because she knew that nobody could undo what had happened, and no one could come back.
No one, not even the Sorcerer Supreme himself.
Comments, reblogs and likes are much appreciated! Lots of love and thanks for reading!
Hoot with laughter - Stephen Strange
Stephen Strange x Reader
words: approx 700
(gif not mine)
I just want to make a nice image of Stephen laughing and interacting with Levi (cloakie) ;-; they deserve to be happy
* ˚ . ˚ ⋆ . · +
You close your tired eyes for a moment, trying to relieve the pain and anguish of lack of sleep. "Ugh."
"Why don't you get some sleep?" Stephen asks calmly, his honeylike voice light enough not to push you, yet forcefully and able to easily express his position on the point.
"Can't," you yawn, rubbing your eyes. "I have a lot of work to do," you repeat a dozen times that night.
He doesn't react this time.
You move through your papers and take up your pen again, blinking and scratching your eyes. You just write for a few more seconds before putting the pen down and rubbing your eyes once again.
You expect to hear Stephen sigh, as you have been over your insistence on finishing work for the previous hours, but there is no voice of it. You open your eyes and turn to face him. And he is not present.
It's now your time to sigh. Perhaps he's gone to bed.
"Hey!" That's when you feel yourself being pulled from your chair just as you return to your paper.
It's his Cloakie, he flips down your laptop screen and leads you straight to the bedroom. "Come on! Both of you!"
Your boyfriend is already perched on the edge of the bed, as shown by a little smirk on his mouth. You wriggle when Cloakie throws you on your boyfriend's lap. You shout as the Cloak swings out from your shoulder floats directly on top of both of you and Stephen, and even appears to mock you. "Cloak, I hate you!"
Stephen grins while he watches you slide into the blanket and turn off the light before getting to sleep next to you in a few seconds. He draws you into his embrace, kissing your sleeping head. "That's my princess."
The Sorcerer is just dozing off to sleep after you when he feels you shivering in his arms. He shrugs off the sleep tendrils that have wrapped around him. "Y/N? What- are you crying?"
However, you are not crying. You're laughing heavily just because he calling you princess. Stephen's brow furrows, you could hear his half-asleep from aside. "What's so funny?" You are unable to respond one bit, and even more, burst out laughing out of fatigue through your lung.
"Y/N," he groans and rolls away from you, but you continue to giggle. He throws a pillow over your face to muffle your noisy silly laugh; it does not work. "Go back to sleep," he rolling his eyes, flinging slightly the pillow at your body, only causing you to burst out laughing a great further. "What's wrong with you, baby?"
Your boyfriend moves away from you, arms crossed and his back rests against the bedhead as if he's trying to ignore you. "Damn you, darling," you half-cry, half-chuckle as you wipe the tears from the corner of your eyes, and the loud fit goes.
You're climbing, leaning in, and brushing up against his neck. "I'm sorry," you whispered softly, your leg looped around his waist. "Can we cuddle? Yeah?" He just answers by keeping silent. "Stephen," you tease, your fingers circling his strong board and flirtatiously nipping his arm.
And now it's his shoulders that are trembling with laughter. "Stephen?"
Stephen flipped over in an instant, trapping you between the mattress and his chest. His warm laughter is rocking overall of his body, leading you to sink back into a laughing pack.
"What?" You grimaced but smiled broadly, your smug chuckle tucked away. Stephen leaned into your neck, his scarred palm clutching the tip of your shoulder, still cracking up with you.
Tiredness gradually overtakes you two, and the merriment fades. Stephen is softly rubbing his nose towards yours. "Gonna be good and sleep now?"
"Hey, you were laughing as well."
"Because you were laughing like crazy."
"No, wasn't me," after that, he remains silent, waiting for you to answer his query. You exhale. "I'll be good, okay?"
Stephen simply hums and brushes your lips quickly before repositioning you in ideal snuggling positions. "Good night, princess."
"Good night," you kiss his jawline before resting your head on his chest, "my prince."
The two of you then fell asleep peacefully, guarded by Cloakie, who gladly glides and hovers in the air alone in the Sanctum's bedroom all night, lovingly wrapping both of you.
Pairing: Stephen Strange x Toddler!Reader, Wanda Maximoff & Stephen Strange
Summary: Stephen Strange is forced to face the memories the loss of his child.
Warnings: Multiverse of Maddness/ish / tiny bit of manipulation.
Vilomah = gaining acceptance to describe a parent who has lost a child.
(Y’all, I had the hardest writer block in my time and god lord. I wrote multiple stories but I deleted them because I thought it wouldn’t be up to my standards and I fully believed that I can’t write because I lack skills of punctuation and grammar AKA me trying to delete this one. I just want to post this one as a sake of me releasing more writing! Enjoy!)
“I thought you would understand what it is like to not have your children and not be able to do anything about it, even if you want to.
The feeling of losing everything, of being forced to watch helplessly as the life you had built around yourself was taken away from you, leaving nothing but a hollow shell of a person. The sensation of knowing that nothing will ever truly be the same. Nothing will ever be the same.” Wanda spoke with such bitterness and conviction that the man before her had never seen anyone else before.
He didn't need to be a genius or an empath to know all the pain and grieving she must be feeling right now.
He knew from experience, having been the one to lose his daughter, and he couldn't help but be reminded once again of his little girl, how fragile she had seemed during those long dark hours of holding on to the little life that remained.
He hadn't been able to sleep for days afterwards after that day, unable to stop thinking about how he might've done something differently to prevent the loss from occurring in the first place. How he could have tried harder to make sure she would never have to die a painful death at such a young age.
He felt himself wilt at the memory and turned away from Wanda's hardened gaze.
He wouldn't allow himself to become caught up in these thoughts, this guilt, this regret.
“You know that pain, don’t you Stephen? It eats at you night after night until it finally consumes your every last thought and emotion? You feel guilty because there isn’t anything that can be done to save someone, especially when that person was your child. A child whose very existence depends solely on you. A child who is too small, too weak and too insignificant to matter. And you can’t even do one thing for her.” She took a step forward, forcing him to look her directly in the eye.
He wanted to shrink away but she wasn't finished talking yet.
“How do you think it feels? To watch your own poor child go so quickly just like that? Do you even have any idea what it feels like to be powerless? Unable to move, unable to save them? Can you even imagine the amount of grief and devastation I had to go through when my own two boys disintegrated the moment I removed the Hex. The way I was left empty, hollowed out, feeling as though my very soul was slowly dying in my chest. I was forced to live with those memories of seeing the happy life that I never get to have.” The last part came out in a bitter snarl laced with tears.
She let out a shaky breath as her shoulders rose and fell heavily.
“Don’t you have nightmares yourself? Don’t you remember being powerless, not being able to do anything to save your own daughter? Don’t you even remember the sheer hopelessness of watching your own flesh and blood life fade away before your very eyes? How can you possibly pretend not to?”
Her words had hit their mark.
He remembered the horror of those moments, feeling the tiny fingers grip onto his shirt with fear and distress.
He had to comfort her. Even in the face of complete despair he remembered making a large effort to distract her from the pain, reminding her that everything was going to be okay.
He remembered giving her kisses on her head, stroking her hair gently until she passed away in his arms.
He remembered feeling completely numb, not having known what to do other than keep repeating that she was okay.
That everything was alright.
That she was just fine.
That everything was going to be okay.
That everything was fine.
It was a lie he had to constantly repeat to himself, knowing that it wasn’t true.
The truth was far, far worse.
Her body became colder than ice, as though the warmth they held inside was evaporating.
And he was left behind, alone in the silence and desolation.
He didn’t even know what to say to her as he carried her lifeless body to the hospital, or as he stared into the cold eyes that no longer held the sparkle he loved so much.
Oh, the look on Christine’s face when she saw him enter the ward with a child in his arms.
Her expression morphed into pure shock at the sight of bloodied clothes dripping with blood, and then dazed expression he wore, cradling his dead toddler in his arms.
He should’ve noticed the looks she gave him.
He should’ve picked up on that subtle shift in her facial expressions.
Everything was chaos as the doctors and nurses frantically rushed to save a child that was no longer breathing, and no longer able to be saved.
He barely registered Christine pulling him into a tight embrace, murmuring soft reassurances while she rubbed circles on his back soothingly.
He felt nothing. Absolutely nothing.
“See? You felt that pain? That despair? That helplessness that carried you over the years?” Wanda spoke, breaking him from his deep reverie, “Because it was the same exact thing that I feel everyday. Wishing to be with my children, wishing for some form of closure; other than just wilting away in misery and emptiness.”
“Wouldn’t you throw away everything to discover that there’s a way to bring your daughter back? So, what is stopping you from giving me what I want?” Wanda pressed further and her voice grew stronger.
“Why won’t you give America over?” She demanded and he could almost sense her anger burning off her skin.
“God forbid, I let you take that child.” He spat out bitterly, the words spilling from his mouth without control.
“She is not a child. She has all this power.”
“And you think it’s okay to gun her down and try and withdraw her powers in exchange for getting your children back? After all the lives and universes within the multiverse that you’ve managed to destroy? Absolutely not. Over my dead body.” He growled.
Wanda laughed mirthlessly, her smile becoming more sinister than the scariest grin he had witnessed on any human’s face in decades.
“Then you are sadly mistaken.” Her smile turned sharp and cruel.
“This time we’re not negotiating. I am going to take things to the next level. And you’ll never get in my way of getting what I want. Ever.”
Wanda’s powers erupted once again, the air around them vibrating dangerously.
She lunged towards him, throwing herself against him and pushing him backwards. He grunted as he landed hard on his back, landing hard on his injured side and causing it to throb painfully.
“No more games, Strange. Give me what I want. Now. I have no patience left for your petty tricks and your attempts to distract me from doing what needs to be done.” She spoke coldly, standing above him in a predatory manner.
“I have no intention of letting you anywhere near the child. I’m not give up without a fight. No matter the cost.” He responded as his arm shot up, shooting several tendrils of neon orange energy at Wanda.
She dodged out of the way of each and every one of them effortlessly, sending wave upon wave of energy towards him in retaliation.
But Stephen was ready.
In a flash of light, a portal appeared behind Wanda, and he wasted no time throwing a wave of energy at her, trying to drive her into the portal.
Wanda yelped, thrown off balance from the attack and stumbled backward. Before she was able to regain her footing, the portal shut itself once again.
Stephen stood panting from exertion as the throbbing of his injuries began to increase tenfold.
He knew he couldn’t afford to stay here for too long.
Not when Wanda is insistent on getting what she want regardless of the consequences for herself.
Yet, it angered him; with her using his grievance against him to try and make the situation seems less dire and relatable as both of them suffered the loss of their children.
It was clear from the incident at Kamar-Taj that Wanda was simply a pawn to the Book of the Damned, and would stop at nothing in order to retrieve her goal.
The book was clearly masquerading as an object of obsession, clear in Wanda’s desire to find her children in every dimension that existed.
Stephen had been a fool to ever trust her in the first place, allowing his pride to cloud his judgement.
He needed to put an end to this madness and he will do whatever it takes to do it.
“Well if that’s how you’d feel about it. So be it.”
it’s just me and you | stephen strange
pairing: stephen strange x sorcerer!reader
summary: when your fellow sorcerers criticize you for your lack of skill, sorcerer supreme strange comes to reassure you. (based off this request by anon.)
warnings: self-deprecation, symptoms of an anxiety attack, hurt/comfort, fluff
word count: 1.2k
a/n: not sure how i feel about this one but i hope it’s okay!
the taunting and snickering of your fellow sorcerers echoed in your ears, the noise overwhelming your senses even further than the mistake you were now trying to correct.
you had fumbled your footing while training in the courtyard, resulting in you losing your balance and tumbling to the cobblestone, scraping your knees in the process as everyone laughed at you. you were no good at this—fighting, that is. it was your worst skill and everyone at kamar-taj knew it, and no matter how hard you tried, you just weren’t good enough and could never prove yourself to the others.
you couldn’t meet anyone’s gaze, too embarrassed to even pick yourself off the ground. instead, you quietly recited a teleportation spell that magicked you to the other end of the sanctum, far away from the glaring eyes of your peers.
you never saw anyone else on this side of the sanctum, so you claimed it as your own hideaway whenever you needed an escape or a moment just to yourself: to think, study, or simply admire the landscape beyond the archway of your little alcove, with the sharp outlines of mountains in the distance or birdsong from flocks high above that floated down with the breeze and brushed past your ears.
peering down at your scraped knees, you recited a quick healing spell and watched as magic coaxed your wounded flesh to stitch back together as if nothing happened. finally at peace, you allowed yourself to relax, the sharp stuttering of your breath evening out and slowing gradually as you calmed down.
“there you are,” you heard a familiar voice say from behind you.
stephen. of course he would be the one to find you out here. the embarrassment you felt earlier resurfaced tenfold and you felt your cheeks burn. why did the sorcerer supreme himself have to be the one to come out here and confront you about your mistake? as if you couldn’t be more humiliated.
he rounded the corner and approached you. “do you mind?” he asked, gesturing to the open seat next to you.
you shrugged in acquiescence and he sat down, making sure he left enough room between you, being respectful of your space. you liked that about him; he never made you feel uncomfortable, always putting your needs and preferences above his own, which was incredibly refreshing compared to the treatment you received from others at the sanctum.
“so,” he began carefully, “what happened back there?”
you wrapped your arms around your knees and curled into yourself, feeling small. “nothing, i’m fine.”
“if it was nothing, then why are you crying?”
you huffed out a breath, not even realizing you had been crying until he mentioned it and you became aware of the wetness on your cheeks, quickly swiping away at them in irritation.
“you don’t need to pretend with me, you know,” stephen said gently.
a small sigh escaped you like a candle blown out, completely defeated. “it’s just…” you began. “i feel so useless. i can’t fight like the others. i’m no good in battle, i don’t have a relic yet, and i can barely even make a portal. all i’m good at is reciting a few spells. i feel like such a burden. nobody wants me here.” you felt your eyes well up with tears again.
stephen called your name, urging you to meet his eyes. they were such a fierce blue, as if he could see right through you, to the very center of your being. “you are not a burden,” he said firmly. “nothing you said holds any truth. we do want you here. i want you here.”
you sniffled. he was just being nice, you told yourself. stephen was always nice; this was all probably just part of his job as sorcerer supreme: comforting the newbies and making sure they felt welcome at kamar-taj.
a scarred hand entered your line of vision. you realized stephen was wiping away a tear with the pad of his thumb, the calluses rough but not uncomfortable against your skin. “please don’t cry,” he said quietly.
“no—i… that’s not what i meant,” he corrected. “i just hate seeing you cry.”
everything about his presence was comforting. even when you first came to kamar-taj, he had been so welcoming and kind to you. you wondered, suddenly, if he was like this with everyone. you had assumed—or, at least, you had heard from the others—that he usually kept his distance, off in the library somewhere, learning new spells and rituals to share with the other masters, but something about his temperament with you felt different. it felt nice.
“you’re still relatively new at the mystic arts. these things take time. even so, you’ve taken to learning spells rather quickly—and not just a few,” he said, referring back to your earlier statement. “i’m impressed. how did you do it?”
you tapped a finger to your temple. “photographic memory.���
stephen smiled knowingly, like you were relishing in your own private secret, just between the two of you. he continued, “so maybe your fighting skills aren’t fully developed yet, but that certainly doesn’t mean you’re useless,” he said, again, repeating your words back to you. “there are other talents you have to offer that will largely benefit your fellow sorcerers here. please don’t disparage yourself like this. you are worth far more than you give yourself credit.”
you felt shy at the unexpected compliment, ducking your head to avoid his piercing gaze, but he was having none of that. he tilted your chin up and smiled at you once you were looking at him again. “you are already on the path to becoming a great sorcerer. i have faith in you.”
relief washed over you and you smiled back. “thank you.”
“for being so understanding, and for not judging me like the others. it’s nice to have a friend around here.”
“you don’t have to thank me for that,” he replied.
stephen looked off in the distance, seemingly lost in thought before turning back to face you. “how about i show you a few things? give you some lessons now and then to help you hone your skills? i can assure you that you’re not the only one who struggled when you first arrived at kamar-taj. it certainly wasn’t a walk in the park for me in the beginning either.”
“really? i find that hard to believe.”
“because… you’re just so good at everything.”
he chuckled. “while i’m flattered, that’s definitely not true. trust me.”
you laughed with him. “well, either way… i would greatly appreciate any help you could offer, doctor strange.”
“stephen is fine,” he corrected you. “my friends call me stephen.”
you smiled at him. “all right… stephen.”
the two of you basked in the calm silence of your little alcove, relishing in your newfound friend and the promise of lessons to come.
“how about we go somewhere?” stephen asked suddenly. “have you ever seen mount everest?”
you shook your head.
he stood, offering a hand to help you up. “well, first time for everything.” he plucked his sling ring from the belt of his robes, motioning his fingers to create a portal in front of you. “shall we?” he asked and you followed him between the golden sparks to what would become your first lesson with the sorcerer supreme.
Devotion or Delusion (Part 1) || Doctor Strange x Reader
Word count: 3.4K
WARNINGS: DS:MoM and Endgame References. HeavyAngst. CharacterDeath, Loss/Grief.
A/N: First of all, sorry but I just love Angst so much, I can't get enough of it so I had to get this out of my head. I hope you guys enjoy <3 I still need to make a tag list (I'm still a tumblr noob) Please let me know if you want to be tagged every time I post a story! ^_^
***Strictly do not: claim, repost, copy, translate my stories anywhere else***
Tags: @simp4fictional @praetorrara @poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @elicheel @vintageroses10 @sillyfreakfanparty @sherlux @padmesgreene @brucewaynescock @peachyrogerss @wow-life-love4 @geeky-politics-46 @hueanhdang @graniairish @lucywrites02 I hope you guys don't mind me tagging ya'll.
In partial darkness, you lay on the dirt and rubble trying to stay conscious as much as possible. The air was thick with dust, yet it wasn't clear whether the dust was causing your eyesight to blur or if it was actually your vision that’s affected. Despite the fact that Barton was in front of you, you couldn't make out where the person was even though you could hear a muffled voice calling your name. Because of your ringing ears, Clint's voice was difficult to hear; he was cautious about shaking you and was trying to keep you awake, but clearly, because of the concussion you sustained to the back of your head, you were seeing stars. Shortly after Banner snapped his fingers to restore everyone to life, Thanos' ship came from the past and blasted the Avengers compound. The building got completely blown to bits, and you are one of the people who suffered in the aftermath of it.
In the midst of attempts to contact the rest of the team, Barton repeatedly raised his voice, dread and desperation evident in his tone, asking, "Can anyone copy? (Y/N)'s in critical condition, she needs medical assistance NOW." He watched your vitals like a hawk to make sure you're still breathing, your neck still pulsating. Despite searching for a way out multiple times, Barton was unable to find one, so he had no choice but to blast through the cement. Before deciding where he would shoot the explosive arrows, Barton surveyed the area thoroughly to determine the best distance from which to fire them.
“Come on kid, stay with us please, we just got everybody back!” Clint kept on talking to you still, but in the end he ended up yelling out of distress and a desperate effort to keep you alive as long as possible.
He has already lost someone very dear to him and could not do anything about it; and he doesn't know how he would deal with losing another friend on the same day, especially when you've still got a chance to live.
He carefully picked you up from the ground, your body partially limp from your injuries; he immobilised your head to prevent further injury that may cause paralysis. Barton placed you undercover before he blasts a way out of the rubble. He grabbed one of his explosive arrows, gently connecting the arrow to its nocking points, his muscles shaking from fatigue as he pulled the bowstring back while he aimed at the safest place to shoot. Even when under pressure, Clint's skills did not betray him, he quickly dropped down and shielded you with his body as cement flew from all directions.
As soon as you heard another explosion, you felt that suddenly your surroundings were becoming brighter. You felt yourself being lifted off the ground once more by Clint, you could guess that he was shouting for help as both of you emerged from the ground.
The expression in your eyes looked empty as you stared towards the darkened skies which were tainted orange by the fires that burned the earth. Ashes danced in the air as they rained down towards the area, which had once been a place of peace but now was turned into a battlefield.
Pepper who was in her armoured suit landed gracefully a few metres away from Clint who was looking hopeless with your upper body cradled in his arms. Pepper urgently ran towards the both of you. Concern filled her eyes seeing the severity of your injuries, "F.R.I.D.A.Y, scan (Y/N)'s vitals please."
"Scanning," The A.I. scanned your through her helmet, "Fortunately no major damage to her spinal cords but she is suffering traumatic brain injury, oxygen saturation dropping, blood pressure and heart rate dropping at an alarming rate, sending S.U.M.A (Stark Urgent Medical Assistant) to your location, ETA approximately five minutes." The A.I. spoke with Pepper, as both her and Clint comforted and reassured each other through their eyes.
Despite all the chaos and destruction going on around you, you were feeling calm and your muscles were relaxed as though you were floating on a calm ocean. Memories that you held close to your heart flashes before your eyes, it felt like a compilation film your brain had prepared for this moment, the moment where your life was slipping away— then all faded to black just like every beginning.
The reason why Stephen asked Wong, "Is that everyone?" After they exited through the portal, was because he couldn’t find you. He was aware that they've been gone for five years, but to them it only felt like five seconds. He was expecting to fight alongside you, it would've been the fight of your lives, he expected you to brag about your kill count to prove that you were the better sorcerer— what he didn’t expect was this; you in an ICU bed, unconscious, intubated and your life depending on a machine.
Trying so very hard not to give in to his frustration, Stephen demanded, "Tell me what they've done to her." His voice was trembling in discontent, and he was trying so hard not to raise his voice either.
Christine and Stephen were having this conversation which felt like a dejavu. He did not want you to hear him pressuring her for information, so he went out into the hallway with them.
"Stephen, you are not her next of kin, I can't just disclose confidential information about the patient," Christine explained in a calm voice, "You're a doctor, you know this."
Suddenly Stephen groans, losing just a little more of his patience, "She has no next of kin Christine, just in case you have forgotten. She works with me. So I'm asking, as a friend, can you tell me what they did to her?" His voice quaked in the air.
It was evident by his appearance, the man had been deprived of sleep for a few nights, which may be affecting his ability to reason. With each passing day, his bloodshot eyes became more obvious, and the circles under his eyes became more prominently darker.
Christine stared at him as she contemplated and began feeling sorry for him, "By the time she arrived here, she had severe intracranial hypertension and decreased cerebral perfusion. They had to perform an emergency decompressive craniectomy, you know how the rest goes."
"Christ..." he muttered, squeezing the bridge of his nose, profanely dismissing their intervention as laughable, "I usually recommend craniectomy as a last resort, couldn't they punch a hole in her skull before, I don’t know? taking large chunks out?!" He said sarcastically, unable to contain his emotions this time and raised his voice, agitated.
The woman sighed deeply, her sentiments changing towards Stephen while his arrogant side was grinding the gears in his mind, "This is why I didn’t want to tell you Stephen, because you always think you could've done better."
"I COULD... have done better." Stephen kept his voice raised till Christine flinched at his words, then he was forced to lower the volume of his voice, "I don't think, I can do better. I know, I could have done better." His voice was stiff as he pronounced the word 'better', his facial muscles twitching.
She snapped, pressing her lips together and rolling her eyes inward, "I believe the treating team did the best they could under the pressure of the situation. Why can't you just be thankful she is still alive?" She asked.
As Stephen pointed out to you through the window, he let out a dry laugh, "You call that living?" He asked Christine.
The woman shook her head, no way would she be able to make her way past this man's thick skull, "You answer that question yourself Stephen, because nothing in the world will ever be good enough for you-"
"She fucking was!" Stephen exploded from exasperation, "And she still is, I can't lose her now." Suddenly, he was overcome with tears as he finally confessed his inner feelings. As soon as those tears spilled, he was able to wipe them off and suppress them as quickly as he had let them out.
"Then you’re going to have to allow us to do our jobs and don't interfere." Christine calmly, yet firmly insisted on Stephen.
The Sanctum felt cold and dark without your presence, so quiet that Stephen could almost hear the memories of you bothering him with questions about certain spells as you advanced with your magic.
You were born for the mystic arts and you always bragged about it to Stephen, threatening him to take the title of Sorcerer Supreme.
You tripped Stephen onto the ground and while he tried to get up, you leapt into the air, creating an illusion of steps to rise higher and fly through the air, landing a flying punch on Stephen's cheek. "Remember the first rule? Never underestimate your enemy?" You asked Stephen when you had his arm in a twist while your knees pinned him down, facing the ground.
“I don’t know who taught you how to fight but there usually isn’t this much talking.” Stephen retorted and headbutted your chin before effortlessly flipping you over on top of his body and locking you in a joint-lock; his legs around your waist, and his arms holding your head in a choke hold, “If you don’t want to be underestimated then start by practising strengthening your grip.”
You clenched your jaw around his strong arms, which were close to cutting off your air supply, you hit his arm as a sign of surrender, and he let go instantly, leaving you gasping for breath and coughing for air. You clutched onto your chest and glowered at him as he walked around you, “What the hell Strange? Are you trying to kill me?” It was your intention to shout, but the words came out raspy.
“Trying to give you a realistic lesson was all I was doing.” Stephen shrugged and tilted his head mockingly, still watching you catch your breath, “Correct me if I’m wrong but didn’t you say you’d rather have me choke you than have Wong teach you magic?”
‘Oh he heard that?’ You thought to yourself and turned your gaze away from him, biting the inside of your cheek in an effort to hide your embarrassed smile. As Stephen noticed your cheeks turning red he became aware that you were expressing a different meaning.
Stephen blinks awkwardly, “Ah...” He let out a breathy laugh in an effort to release the weird tension in the air.
The feeling of being extremely flustered made it difficult for you to stand up to your feet. The situation made you feel so embarrassed that you wished the ground would just eat you up and make you disappear. After such an effort, you finally stood your ground, "I guess my training is over, so I plan to leave now." You said almost robotically, your figure turning around stiffly before bolting away.
This particular memory of you made Stephen chuckle, it was so obvious to him that you liked him even though you tried so hard to lie to him about it. Deep inside he knew he felt the same way about you but never acted on it because he was scared of a lot of things; scared of losing something he can’t replace. Now, he regrets not making a move on you when he should have, his mood turning bitter and sour the more he thinks about the matter.
4 days later.
It was four in the morning and Stephen sat near your bed, his upper body lying at the edge of it, waiting for you to squeeze his hand that never left yours. Even though he wasn't supposed to be there, who could stop him when he was so easily capable of opening a portal to you? He would sneak into your room every night to sit by your side and catch up on the hours he had missed being with you over the last five years.
During the course of the morning rounds, a nurse came in to see you and was startled by Stephen’s silhouette. Stephen had fallen asleep, clinging onto your hand as he lay at the edge of your bed. The staff member didn't even question how your visitor was able to enter, knowing that you were an Avenger. She quietly did her morning rounds before leaving the man to be alone with you in the room again.
Stephen woke up when he heard the sounds of the door sliding closed just before the nurse left the room. He immediately jumped up when he realised he had fallen asleep, and rubbed his puffy tired eyes. His initial hopes that he would wake up to you having regained consciousness was crushed. He glanced at the monitor displaying your vital signs and was relieved that everything was at least somewhat stable.
From behind Strange, a portal appeared, and Wong, who was now the Sorcerer Supreme, appeared from Kamar-Taj. Stephen took a quick glance at his friend, but he didn't say a word to him. On the bench by the window, Wong sat contemplatively, looking at the ground as he quietly gathers the words to say from his mind, his heart breaking for you, one of the most talented sorcerers.
“In spite of searching in the astral plane, I was unable to find her.” Stephen muttered in a hoarse voice after having just gotten up from his sleep. Wong remained quiet, his eyes stuck to the ground. Stephen snapped his head towards Wong, anticipating him to say something, however, Wong didn't.
Wong glanced at Stephen who looked at him with wary eyes, “Perhaps her soul never left her body.” Wong finally spoke.
"Perhaps." Stephen repeated, his attention now once again focused on you, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand, “But that’s not all there is, is there?” Stephen asked, noticing that Wong seems to know something he does not know.
Suddenly Wong's eyeline glistened with salty water as he found it extremely difficult to find the words to say what was in his mind; what he and Christine discussed a few hours before over the phone.
After being silent for a longer period of time than he'd like, Stephen looked at Wong again. Wong's reaction to Stephen's question left no words needed to be said. Stephen felt an unpleasant, heavy, sinking sensation in his chest and stomach, he had seen that look so many times before.
“No,” Stephen shook his head in denial, “No, no, no, no.” Stephen scooted closer, bringing your hand against his lips, tears streaming down his cheeks as he closed his eyes, whispering, “(Y/N) wake up, please I’m begging you, wake up.” Stephen’s voice came out cracked and broken against the cool palm of your hand.
“Stephen,” Wong called him, his voice trying to remain strong, “Christine gave me an unexpected call last night,” Wong paused to ease Stephen into it, “Christine said that her brain activity has been declining over the course of a few days... I won't explain to you the meaning since you are the best person to understand.”
Wong was correct, Stephen knew well of what’s to come next. You were entering the vegetative state and it would only be a matter of days or even hours before you become brain dead which would eventually lead to your passing.
Stephen suddenly felt like he was running out of time, “You threatened me that you’ll be Sorcerer Supreme when I come back remember? So why does Wong have that title? I know you can hear me, I'm right here, I'm back and I'm never leaving your side again. Please–you can’t leave me like this, I h-have so much I want to say to you-" Stephen uttered while sounding incoherent to Wong, his words getting caught in his throat as his breathing became irregular, his face flushed a deep shade of red, and his features scrunched up as he tries to embrace the pain he was feeling at the centre of his chest. He couldn’t care less about how he looks right now.
“I don’t know if this will give you comfort but know that she always loved you, Stephen.” Wong, having to see Strange give in to his emotions like this for the first time, placed his hand over Stephen's shoulders giving it a firm squeeze before leaving through the portal teary eyed.
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there to protect you. This is exactly what I had feared, and that's why I kept my feelings hidden from you but deep inside I was praying that you and I might end up together, but now I feel as though I have wasted the love you had for me and it’s all my fault. I should’ve told you what you meant to me but I guess this is the cross I have to bear for my pride.
So before you go, I want you to know that I love you. I will miss the warmth of your smile, I’ll miss the way you get flustered in my presence, the way your eyes shine when you look at me; and when I look up at the stars I will remember you.” He swallows hard as he leaned over you to plant a long kiss on your forehead, savoring your scent. He sat back staring at you, trying to take in your visage in person as much as he can, your hands still under his hold, not wanting to let go.
Many of those who knew you came to pay their respects to you after you left this world about two and a half months ago. The majority of those who were present, were now trying to put their lives back together, it was understandable that they all have issues they need to handle. Stephen, however, wasn't one of them.
Stephen wore his grief all too well and it showed in his appearance. With his face so long out of the sun, it seems almost as if it has been leached, which accentuated the dark shadows under his sunken eyes. A shadow is cast over his cheeks by his protruding cheekbones, making his features look gaunt and thin along with his long and unkempt facial hair. Too broken to move on, he became frozen in time, his heart becoming colder and bitter while the world around him forgot that you ever existed.
But how could he move on when everything that surrounded him reminded him of you. You had left your mark in every spell book and every corner of this Sanctum which now felt lonely and eerie, he didn’t dare look into your favourite areas to hang around in, scared to face the reality of you not being there, smiling at him. Every night he dreamt of you, waking up each day leaving him emptier, the hole in his chest bigger; a void that nothing can seem to fill.
Everyone around him seemed to be finding the happiness they were looking for and when Christine got married, she hoped Stephen would be able to find happiness. That night when he came home and had an epiphany; he would find his happiness even if it meant travelling to a different world where it had you in it.
Until he had memorised every page of the Darkhold like the back of his hand, Stephen did not rest. He doesn't care if it takes months, years or decades, only when he finds you in another world then will be able to find peace. He will not stop and he won’t let anyone get in the way.
Due to the intensity of grief that he felt for you, he was blinded to what was happening inside him, as the Darkhold used his vulnerability to fuel his desire to dreamwalk in search of you in another universe. To his dismay, he only found more of himself doing the same mistakes as he did; universe by universe the same mistake again and again and again. The more he dreamwalks the more his self-loathe grows out of control— so he did his own variants a favour and saved them from their future suffering and he called this, mercy.
The sky cracks and rumbles as dark clouds roll over the city of New York, Wong rushed outside of the Sanctum after failing to find Strange inside it. Panic and mania drove people to run and drive wherever they can, matter was melting all around him, the fabric of reality was breaking all because of Stephen’s recklessness. Wong ran back inside to find Stephen at the third floor, peering out the window, watching the world around him pay for his arrogance.
“What have you done?” Wong asked in a sharp tone.
With an evil glint in his eyes, he turned ever so slowly around, a grim sadistic smile spreading from the corners of his mouth,
“Things just got out of hand.”
Stephen strange headcannon about late night studying?
join my 1k event!
Okay we all know how Stephen is with studying. Dude goes above and beyond and literally astral projects to study as he sleeps
So when you join his late night study parties he really isn’t much different.
Though now he seems to want things to be healthier for the both of you.
Cutting off the time before it gets too late and always having water and snacks that he totally didn’t steal.
Always making the two of you take breaks. Even if when he studies alone he goes for hours and hours straight but he doesn’t want that for you.
He is a doctor after all.
Its mostly silent though. Occasional questions and some smart remarks but i feel like Stephen is mostly a quiet studier
Though i think the longer the sessions continue the more he starts to fall for you
And that’s where the talking starts. The flirty comments and sometimes sarcastic remarks as he studies.
Its all playful and makes studying easier because you’re having fun. Even if you get distracted easily.
Okay but imagine you fall asleep and he doesn’t notice until a little bit later and you look so peaceful he can’t wake you.
So instead he carries you to bed. Cloak could easily float you to bed but Stephen insists on carrying you himself.
He would leave all your books neatly by your desk too.
He would kiss your forehead and leave you to sleep and let you sleep in the next day.
But whenever someone questioned him he’d get all defense about it. Def responds in his typical snarky way.
But you know he does it because he cares
You Matter to Me (Strange x Reader)
You Matter to Me (Rated T)
Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader
Word Count: 1.5k+
Warnings: Self-conscious Stephen, domestic fluff, traumatic flashback
Summary: During a calming baking session within the Sanctum Sanctorum, Stephen has a tough time working through his fears. When you do your best to ease his mind, the two of you end up in a bit of trouble.
One morning in the Sanctum Sanctorum, there was a sound rarely heard. Somewhere within the great hallways and magical rooms was a kitchen, with a very confused sorcerer and his baker of a significant other. The clinks and clanks of cooking utensils bounced against the walls of the mystical sanctuary, performing an unlikely melody to an otherwise quiet day.
At first, the Cloak of Levitation had been more than willing to help you. It would gather the ingredients and cooking utensils that were too far out of reach. However, when it came to the baking itself, you and Stephen were on your own. You couldn't blame the mystical artifact, though. There was only so much chaos a person could take in a kitchen. Eggshells littered the counter, flour coated your hands, and somehow oil had ended up on the ceiling.
“We only need a quarter of a cup of powdered sugar,” you instructed as you measured out a thing of cocoa powder. There was a streak of flour against your cheek that you hadn't bothered to clean up -- a battle scar from the cupcakes you had baked earlier. “Any more than that and the icing will be too sweet.”
Your boyfriend of a sorcerer grumbled to himself as he attempted to coordinate his hand movements with the package of powder. “Why do they make it so hard to open these things?”
His frustration was evident in his tone of voice. Stephen was always self conscious of his hands, not to mention his ability to do anything with them. He hated that feeling. Before his accident, he felt like he could do anything. Now here he was, hands shaking and unable to tear a hole into a thin plastic casing. It made him feel less than enough without fail. Every single time.
“Oh, honey,” you giggled at his aggravated pout at the bag. You hated to see him like this but you had to admit it was kind of adorable. As you leaned over to pull open the plastic, you pressed a kiss to his chin. “It’s alright. They’re just tricky.”
Stephen frowned at the measuring cup in his shaking hand. “How much again?” he tried to keep his voice from cracking. He should have known there would be no hiding anything from you.
“Okay, honey,” you lifted a spatula and cocked your hip to the side as he dumped the white substance into the mixing bowl. “What’s the problem?”
“There isn’t a problem.”
“Liar.” You started to cream together the ingredients, smiling at the creamy brown concoction now forming. As you scooped the mixture into a piping bag, you couldn’t resist sneaking a glance at your boyfriend. “There’s something bothering you.”
Stephen sighed. “It’s my hands.”
The spatula you were using to scoop the frosting out of the bowl stilled in the air. Concern for him was evident on your face. “Is the pain back?” you fretted. “Did something happen?”
“No! No, no, not at all,” he assured you. “It’s just...how do you put up with me? With- with this?” He held his hands up for emphasis. The redness on the skin had gone down over the years, scars fading to become less noticeable. They still shook — something Stephen could never control, especially without the Time Stone.
“Oh, honey,” you put the spatula down to scoop his hands into yours. Your thumbs gently traced along his knuckles and you brought them up to lips to press a kiss against them. “I love everything about you. That includes your hands. You might not be able to do everything you used to, but I don’t care.”
Stephen stiffened in your hold. “It’s been seven years-“ he hesitated after you gave him a knowing look. “Fine, two years. I should be able to do more by now! But they’re just useless!”
“Stop that.” You hated using that tone with him, you really did, but you couldn’t bear to hear him like this. He had been through too much- you both had- for him to be so hard on himself. “Please. Stephen, your hands... they’re a reminder of how strong you are, of how you survived. If you didn’t have these scars, you never would have come to Kamar-Taj, become the sorcerer supreme...”
“Saved you from that idiot with a gun...”
A small smile flickered across your face as you remembered the day your paths crossed. You had been coming home after a trip to the bank. Life after being Blipped meant that you needed to get a little financial help. Unfortunately, you and thousands of other people were on the same page. If that wasn’t bad enough, some of them had the ingenious idea to take what they thought they deserved.
That’s how you found yourself staring down at a barrel of a gun.
You hadn’t even heard the gunshot, much less felt it when it went off. The authorities said it was just a trigger-happy thief, but you knew that wasn’t the case. You could see the fear in his eyes when he held the weapon, but his hand was steady. He didn’t regret what he did. What more could a man lose after coming back from the dead? It wasn’t a fatal shot, but you still lost a lot of blood. Shock had overtaken your body to the point you were frozen in the alley you had been corralled into.
Thankfully for you, as your attacker was preparing to take your latest loan, a flash of red material and orange magic came to your rescue. After Stephen apprehended the guy, he helped you with your injuries. You had been fortunate to be shot in the shoulder. If the bullet had been a few inches lower, it would have been a different story, he assured you. He had saved your life that day and to repay him, you asked if he wanted a coffee.
Both of your lives had changed that day. It was as though something was pulling the two of you closer, binding you together. A coffee date led to something much more serious. When Stephen had asked you to move in with him, it had been an adjustment, but a welcome one. The Sanctum Sanctorum hadn’t just become your home. It was your sanctuary, a place where you could feel safe and be with the love of your life. With Stephen, you felt safe and secure. But to hear him question his own usefulness when he’s already done so much for you…
“I love you,” you said simply.
If Stephen was surprised or taken aback by the confession, he didn’t show it. Instead, he merely placed his hands on your waist and stared earnestly into your eyes. “I love you, too,” he replied. “I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just....” Stephen sighed. “It’s just that sometimes it all becomes too much.”
You gave a small nod and toyed with his hands before placing them against your jaw. “I know. But you need to replace the bad memories with good ones. You need to see what I see.”
Stephen traced his thumbs against the shape of your jawline, stroking your cheek in the process. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, blue-green eyes searching yours.
“Perfect doesn’t exist, Strange.”
“I’m looking right at it.” He moved one hand away from your face, angling his body to be closer. You closed your eyes in anticipation of a kiss that you were sure would soon follow. “And it’s sweet, just like....”
He didn’t finish his statement as you felt something smear against your nose. With a yelp of surprise, you opened your eyes to see a large dollop of frosting on the tip of your nose. Somehow your boyfriend had found a way to grip onto the spatula and utilize it as a paint brush against your face.
You gaped at the sorcerer standing in front of you. “Stephen Strange, you did not!”
There was a loud period of laughter from the sorcerer. “I’m sorry, but your face!” he spoke between chortles. “It was priceless, honey.”
Without another thought, you grinned and started to roll up your sleeve. You reached over to the container of flour on the counter. Stephen’s eyes tracked you wildly as you moved the fist back to your side. “Oh, it is on, doctor,” you said as you tossed a handful of flour into his face.
It was the beginning of a very long night, which wasn’t great for the hidden kitchen. Dishes, ingredients, and towels were tossed about the room. By the time you and Stephen had finished with your childish food fight, it looked like a hurricane had infiltrated the Sanctum through the Rotunda of Gateways. The cupcakes and frosting had been long forgotten, with it being nearly two hours before you finally remembered to come back and finish your task. If there was one thing you learned about dating the great Stephen Strange was that every day was an adventure....
.....but you wouldn’t want to change it for the world.
Author's Note: Well, hello there! Yes, I am back with another Stephen fic. I'm so sorry to those who have requested fics that I haven't posted yet. I've hit a bit of a writer's slump and haven't had that right inspiration to crank out those amazing requests. This idea kinda morphed on its own accord in my brain. Who doesn't love domestic Stephen? I have an idea for a Part 2 during the clean up stages, but not sure when or if I'll ever be able to write/post it.
As usual, please don't forget to leave a like, comment, and a reblog! It really helps me out with the Tumblr algorithm and lets me know what type of fics you like reading. If you have a request, too, make sure to check out my guidelines before sending it through my asks/submissions! Until next time, loves!
Listening to Harry’s House for the third time, and I would just like to claim this image because my god, the outro to “Cinema” is sexy as hell. 😌
Dancing in the kitchen to “Cinema” when Stephen comes in and leans on the doorframe, admiring you. The way you move, the curves and softness of your body, craving it after a long day.
He comes up behind you, swaying with you, when you turn around and lead him towards the couch. Eagerly, you push him down and straddle his waist to capture his lips in a heated kiss. And of course, he’s happy to oblige, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your neck.
He nips at your ear with a low laugh and says, “I love it when you show me what you need, baby.”
the 'teenagers scare the shit outta me' tiktok i've seen of this is fucking hilarious.
Because I’m hurting many of you with Once Upon A Dream, I’ll amend the pain with a sugar daddy Strange fic for my up coming update…and maybe hurt you some more with part 2 of OUAD (if I find the perfect ending to it) 😘
Ghost of Us — Chapter 1
Masterpage <last next>
This is the sequel to my book Ghost of You. Go check it out before reading this one.
Pietro Maximoff x fem!Mutant!reader
Warnings: PTSD, vague mention of torture, blood, little violence, alcohol, alcohol as a coping mechanism, liquor store, alcoholism, suicide talk, angst, trauma, grief
Word Count: 3284
If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know :)
Dying is easy.
Coming back it's the tricky part.
But what's even worse is the situation I found myself at the moment.
I released a yelp as Strange's eldritch whip came in my direction and I quickly dodged behind a table which seconds later exploded into million pieces leaving me defenseless in front of a frustrated wizard. I slowly crawled backward until my back hit the wall and winced at the intensity of his gaze.
"I'm fine here, thank you very much."
"Now." He demanded, magic illuminating his hands orange. Reluctantly I stood up and faced him before I sprinted away from him racing towards the door. As expected, it did nothing since seconds later I was face down spitting dust a whip wrapped around my leg pulling me towards Strange.
"Fight back." I moved my head out of the way as a magic disc crashed beside me hitting the side of my face and causing blood to pour out of my cheek. The surprise of actual blood was overtaken by anger, as ghosts made their apparition around us. I felt my powers in the tips of my fingers, in the deep of my stomach, they wanted to crawl out and unleash death. The temperature rose and the light faded away.
"That's enough for today Strange," Wong stated as he appeared behind us. His voice snapped me out of my trance and the spirits disappeared. I blinked once, twice. Since coming back from the land of the dead this type of thing has started to happen more frequently and I was afraid to repeat a scene worse than the one back on my last day on the compound after seeing...
"I leave you two for three hours and you somehow always find a way to destroy everything." He snapped as Strange finally released me. I quietly stood up and tried to clean the dirt out of my clothes.
"He started it," I mumbled.
"It's her fault."
"How's that my fault? You attacked me," I snapped, gritting my teeth as I crossed my arms defiantly.
"If you would simply do what I've taught you and fought back then we wouldn't be having this conversation," Strange grunted, narrowing his eyes.
"Well if you got it into your thick skull that I'm not a freaking wizard then we wouldn't be having this conversation either."
"You're insufferable, anyone ever told you that?" He hissed, his jaw clenching.
"Only every day of my entire life," I commented, raising my chin, a smug smile forming on my face.
"Oh now we're playing the victim card, aren't we?" He grumbled, rolling his eyes. "How creative, now I can't say anything without sounding like an asshole."
"I hate you." He fumed, swearing under his breath.
"Why? I'm lovely." I grinned cheekily as Strange made to reach me. With a yelp, I hid behind Wong, who looked anything but amused. His brows furrowed together in annoyance and I could see a sneer starting to form on his face.
"Okay, that's it. Get out, both of you. I don't wanna see any of you." He snapped and forcefully shoved us out of the room and finally slammed the door on our faces with a loud thud. We stood still for a moment.
"So, you want something to eat?" I grinned
"Don't talk to me." His nostril flared as he turned around and walked away.
"I heard that!"
"I wasn’t whispering," I announced smirking.
I stood in front of the bathroom mirror as I splashed water on my face, erasing any trace of blood that could remind me of my past. But I wasn't fast enough as the sight of bloody water running down the drain brought me back to the days at the asylum. I tried to shake the images out of my head as I forcefully shut my eyes. My breath quickened as memories of being tied down to a table as they sliced me open invaded my brain. I could still remember the feeling of the blade against my skin as if it was yesterday. The pressure on my wrists as they were being tied down. The chill on my exposed bloody back as air met it. How my screams left my throat feeling raw. Their faces as they stood above me...
But a knock on the door stopped my brain from finishing that memory. With shaky hands, I opened the door only to be met with two green eyes. A grimace appeared on my face as I took in his unwanted presence. His eyes however focused solely on my bloody cheek and then on my probably crazed eyes after my little episode, but he knew me enough not to mention it. We faced each other for some awkward seconds until he spoke.
"Need a hand with that?" He nagged.
"Do I look like I need your help?" I barked back and regretted it immediately as I felt blood dripping down my chin.
"Was that a rhetorical question or do you really want me to answer that?" Strange debated, amusement evident in the way his eyes lit up.
"Whatever" I sighed and rolled my eyes as I opened the door completely to let him in and sat on the toilet.
He stepped inside the little room and searched for the first aid kit inside the drawers. When he found it he kneeled in front of me and took the alcohol out. Gently he wiped the blood off my cheek and then rubbed alcohol on it. He looked at me expectantly, waiting for my reaction, and was surprised when he found none.
"It doesn't hurt," I explained. And it didn't, not really. Not even when alcohol came in contact with the open wound.
"You have a high pain tolerance I see." He noted warily.
"I do." And I did, ever since I knew what real pain was, little things like this felt like a joke. For some minutes nothing could be heard as he cleaned my wound and surprisingly gave me two stitches until a loud sigh could be heard from him.
"What?" I snapped annoyed as he sighed for the fifth time.
"I didn't say anything."
"Then stop breathing so loudly," I grunted as I stood off the toilet and made my way to the mirror to gaze at the repaired damage on my face.
"I just don't understand why you're holding back." The sorcerer pondered crossing his arms above his chest.
"I don't believe that and neither do you."
"Honestly? I don't care what you think." I snapped glaring at him. Restrained anger danced in my eyes as we stared at each other. Suddenly recognition dawned on his eyes.
"Ohh, so he's why." Strange acknowledged. I tensed and froze at his mere mention.
"It's been 8 months Y/n." When I said nothing he continued.
"I think," he began hesitantly, "it's time to get over him."
"I am over him." I denied
"I'm not blind nor deaf, I can see you crumbling before my eyes. Do you think I can't hear you screaming every night in your sleep? Do you think I don't notice the alcohol stench in your room? The bottles? Well, I can. Why do you think I'm trying to teach you control?"
I didn't answer, I was speechless as shame burned through my veins as I recalled all the sleepless nights filled with Pietro's memories and the bottles I drank to erase any trace of him and the last 12 years of my life.
"Because every night you lose it." He softly answered himself.
"Leave me alone."
"Not until you realize how stupid all of this is!" He exclaimed, his hands raised in exasperation as if begging God for patience. "You're wasting your potential grieving over someone who doesn't know who you are."
"I'm warning you Strange. Stop talking." Warning seeping through my teeth.
"I'm sorry to break it to you but that stupid little dead boy doesn't deserve the power he still holds over you." He snapped, crossing his arms over his chest.
"You don't understand." I looked away, shame filling my veins. I hate it, the power Pietro still had over me.
"Explain it to me then, why put yourself through all of this?"
"Because I loved him and he's gone and it hurts" I roared as the lights flicker and the mirror tremble. The air filled with static.
The silence was so loud. I could feel his eyes burning on the back of my head. My hands twitched at my sides, unrestrained power tingling at my fingertips. I tried not to show it, but I know he saw straight through it. He always did. His features softened at the shaking of my hands.
"That day, you told me to make it stop. You told me you would come if I made the pain stop. But if you keep holding back there's nothing I can do to help you."
I knew he was right, of course, he was right. I was holding back. I was hiding. But what was I supposed to do? For twelve years that's what I was thought to do. If I didn't, I was punished. My whole life has revolved around me having to hold back, for my and everyone's sake. Back then I didn't know what I was capable of, and I still am not, but if I have the power to bring someone back, who says I can't do the opposite. The thing is, maybe I don't want to find out.
What's the point of using these abilities, if all they do is bring me pain. I want, no, I need to forget him. And if alcohol is the way, I'll gladly take it, even if it'll just work for a few hours.
"I don't need your help Doctor." I exited the room and smashed the door behind me as I made my way to the nearest liquor store.
The walk was painfully long. Even after 8 months, everywhere I looked I could see his face, literally. There were dozens of posters with his face adorning the street. People were bedazzled when they learned the Pietro Maximoff was, somehow, alive, after 7 years of being considered dead. I walked faster as I always did every time I got too close and before I knew it I was entering the store, the bell ringing as I opened the door.
By then I knew all aisles by memory so I rapidly searched for the tequila and made my way to the front, where the same man was always working. He acknowledge me with a nod and I did the same as I took money out of my pocket and gave it to him. Without a word I took the bag with my newly bought alcohol and left the store.
Outside I entertained my options and decide going back to the sanctum was not a good idea so I settled by walking directionless until I found someplace to sit. Minutes felt like hours as the sun set down on the horizon, obscuring my surroundings.
Some time passed and I found myself alone in the dark, my only company being the ghost of us. And those horrible posters that made no justice to the color of his eyes.
As the first tear made its way through my face I opened the bottle and took a sip that burned my throat and for just a second made me forget that once again I was alone in a world where no one would ever miss me. It wasn't funny, but I couldn't help the laugh that left my mouth.
"You were right dad," I began speaking to no one in particular as I felt my hands start to shake as the reality of my situation sank in. "I am a monster, unlovable." I croaked, my hand finding the almost full bottle and taking a longer sip.
"I think I get it now, why you abandoned me." I kept going, way sober to have this realization, so I took another sip. "I wouldn't want to have me as my daughter either."
"I wonder if they miss me" Another sip. "I bet they don't." I chuckled as I lazily took one more.
"Maybe" I whispered to myself as if I was telling a secret. "Maybe everything would be easier if I just" I took a deep shuddering breath that made my lungs ache "disappeared."
"Don't say that." Blurted a childish voice from somewhere above me. I looked up and honestly, I was not a bit surprised to find a teenager in a red tacky suit hanging off a tree, upside down. I sighed and drank some more. It had been a long day.
"Mind your business kid." I sighed as monkey-boy got down from the tree.
"Are you okay?" He softly asked, but I refused to answer. Maybe if I acted like he wasn't there he'll disappear. Like everyone else. HA.
"I can call someone for you if you want." He continued, unaware of my morbid internal sense of humor. How ironic, I concluded. That a total stranger was the only person that cared enough to ask.
"There isn't anyone. Not anymore, at least." I refused to look at him as I admitted the truth. I kept gazing to the front as we sat in silence. I didn't want to see his pity, the pity that clouded Wong's eyes after he found me curled up crying after a particular nightmare, or in the way Strange would halt giving me shit after a panic attack.
But to my surprise, I was found instead with understanding.
"It sucks, doesn't it? Miss them and don't being able to do something about it, but remember them." Red-guy whispered, his voice becoming melancholic with every word. I looked at him and wonder if there were tears in his eyes every time he spoke about this.
"What's the point of remembering if it only causes pain? That's just cruel." I uttered playing with the hem of my shirt, a lonely tear falling. That was all I was gonna allow myself at the moment, one tear for the man I lost and for the life I never got to live.
"It is. But what about all of the happy memories? Those memories made me who I am, who would I be without them?" Bug-kid stated with so much confidence, that I couldn't help to wonder about him again, is the absence of us, affecting him someway? I shook my head at the thought, I don't think I ever was that important.
"Maybe they're gone, but you aren't. So live, if not for yourself, for them." the boy instructed with, what I think, was a smile behind the mask. He looked healed, I wonder if I'll ever be like that.
At the distance, the sirens could be heard which put an end to our conversation. Spider kid stood up and I came to the conclusion he couldn't be older than 15 years. Yikes, I just poured all my bottled-up trauma on a teenager.
"For the record? I don't think you're a monster, someone capable of loving as hard as you did can't be one." That was the last thing he said after he went swinging through the city.
As fast as he left tears clouded my vision. Because he was right. About everything. My life wasn't over, it had barely begun. Pietro was gone but our memories weren't. It didn't matter that he couldn't remember them. It didn't matter, because I could remember for both of us. My Pietro wouldn't have wanted me to stay like this forever, I know that. So out of respect for him, I had to live, and that I would do. No one was ever gonna take my life away from me again, the choice. I had to live for myself and I would fight for it, because of him.
And drowning my fears and pain in alcohol was not gonna do anything to solve my problems. It didn't help my abilities, it just made them unstable. I needed control, and for once in my life, I would take it.
I stood on wobbly legs and with all my force threw the alcohol bottle to the ground but to my embarrassment, it only bounced and didn't break as I expected. To my dismay, it kept rolling and eventually stopped before someone's shoes. I recognized those ugly shoes and their owner.
"That was embarrassing," mocked Stephen Strange a few meters from me. Any day I would've told him that having to walk with that face was embarrassing, but ant-boy's word rang strong in my head.
"I should have died that day, didn't I?" I knew the answer, but I had to ask, because maybe he knew why, maybe he knew the reason why so many failed, but I didn't.
"But you didn't." He stated, his voice rang through my body and told me everything he wanted to say but wouldn't. In some sick/ Stephen Strange way, he cared. He could've just left me there that day, but didn't. He could've sent someone else to get me today, he sure has more important things to do, but he came. I looked at him through my tears and realized, that in all of these past months there wasn't pity in his eyes, it was a way softer stare. I wonder if that's what a father is supposed to look like because at that moment he sure looked and act like the one I needed.
"No, I didn't," I repeated as if I had just realized. And I think to some extent, I just had. All this time I had been blinded by my grief that nothing else mattered. I was grieving and don't think I would ever stop, but life keeps going and so should I, if not for me, for him, for my Pietro.
~~1 year and 4 months later~~
"That was amazing!" I laughed, stepping through Wong's portal, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I recalled our latest mission.
"It was meh," Wong replied as he close the portal once we were on the New York's sanctum after 2 weeks of chasing some dark wizards. I looked around me and inhaled deeply, a smile on my face. I was finally home.
"Are you kidding me? I totally nailed that." I scoffed
"Nailed what?" Strange asked making his appearance before us. My smile widened at the sight of my teacher.
"Oh Stephen, you should've seen me. I was amazing." I gushed as I approached him and explained the latest mission and my accomplishments to him.
"Don't sound too excited, I may think you care." I gave him a nasty look at his lack of interest. But after a few seconds without a come back I realized something was wrong.
"What's wrong?" I asked, unease rising inside of me. My first thought was someone died, but then I realized all the people I care about were in the room and they were pretty much alive. But Pietro wasn't. I paled and felt my heart skip a beat.
"You're not gonna like it." He sighed and looked at me. By the moment I was sure I was as pale as an albino salamander.
"They need our help, well, more specifically, yours." I was so relieved at the knowledge that he was okay that I didn't register what he was saying.
"What, who?" I scrunched up my face and tilted my head. Strange gave me a long look. Uneasiness gnawed at my insides, but nothing could've prepared me to hear that name come out of his lips.
Stark Universe | Prologue
Tony Stark x Stark!Reader (siblings), James Rhodes x Stark!Reader (platonic)
summary: "Why do people always disappear around me?"
word count: 3k
warnings: sadness, Tony being Tony, swearing, siblings insulting each other, more sadness, crying, a funeral, you know the drill, just some good ol' sadish angst
author's note: Well, hello there! Welcome to the first installment of my little Stark!Reader series! A title name will be found, but for the meantime I'm sticking to the "Stark Universe". If you have any ideas on how to name it: Tell me! I need inspiration! I'm sorry if the reader is named somewhere in the text - I'm always writing my stories for my OC Eleanor Stark before turning them into a reader-insert thingy. Btw: If you prefer an OC story, let me now and I can upload both versions separately! Enjoy this prologue!
December 16, 1991
“Try to remember the kind of September
When life was slow and oh
The melody got out of tune, and the voice ceased shortly. “No, it’s the other key, honey. Right next to it.” A small, sweet voice rose after the hint. “This one, Mommy?” The key got pressed, and the melody continued, more in tune now. “Yes, that’s right. Good job. Someday you’ll be better than me, honey.” Maria smiled at her daughter sitting next to her at the grand piano, a focused expression on her small face. She had her tongue jammed between her lips and eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration while she tried to play the melody of the song her mother had sung.
Howard Stark stood in the doorframe and watched his two girls with utter devotion as he put on his jacket and tried to not disturb them. He knew how hard it was on his wife to leave her children behind, especially their youngest. [Y/N] had only arrived two days ago, and even Howard, never the family man to begin with, now cursed his proposal of a getaway with his wife. He should’ve tried to spend more time with his kids now that they were home again.
“Try to remember the kind of September
When grass was green…”
[Y/N] played the melody further along, even though she heard her father entering the room, and her mother stopped singing. She just was too engrossed in the task of getting the notes right and to enjoy the presence of her mother. “Wake up, dear and say Goodbye to your father.” The younger Stark grinned widely, stopped playing, and jumped off the piano stool to throw herself onto the couch where her brother had slept off his jetlag. Howard just lifted the cozy blanket, where a Santa hat appeared, which [Y/N] quickly grabbed and put on herself. Still grinning, she shook her brother’s shoulder to wake him up faster and started to play with his hand closest to hers.
“Who is the homeless person on the couch?” The Stark daughter giggled at her father’s words and squealed as Tony grabbed his little sister and locked her into a bear cuddle. “He is not homeless, Daddy! He’s jus’ tired,” she tried to defend her brother’s honor while he adjusted the Santa hat on his sister’s head. Before bending down, Howard smiled a small smile and kissed his daughter’s forehead. “Sure he is, sweetheart.”
Tony emerged from the couch, [Y/N] still sitting on the soft cushions and pushing the blanket from her lap, even though she loved to play with the soft fabric. But instead of giving into the urge to do something comforting, she followed her brother’s example and stood on her feet. “This is why I love coming up for Christmas, right before you leave town.” The girl looked from one part to another and furrowed her brows at the change of topic.
Don’t fight again. Not now. It’s almost Christmas!
Her mother seemed to feel the change in the air and the building tension as well. “Be nice, dear. He’s been studying abroad.” [Y/N] nodded at her mother’s words and held tightly onto Tony’s hand. The young man looked down at her, a smile tucking at his lips, even though his forehead was wrinkled, but she had this effect on him – always had and probably always would have.
“Do me a favor and try not to burn the house down before Monday?” The girl perked up at that, and her lower lip started to wobble while the tears built up in her eyes. “Okay, so it’s Monday? That is good to know. I will plan my party accordingly to…” Tony mocked and tried to walk around his father, but her small hand clasped in his held him back. The brother looked down again and saw one of the giant crocodile tears rolling down her small cheek. “You and Mommy are gone till Monday,” her small, trembling voice asked her dad in disbelief, and Howard shot his wife a look to seek help in this situation. But Maria softly played the piano and shook barely noticeable her head. The older man sighed and tried to find a suitable answer for his youngest child.
“Great, now you made her cry.” Tony pulled his baby sister into his arms and shot his father a glance that only could be interpreted as accusing. The dark-haired man slowly stroked his sister’s hair and tried everything to soothe her. “Why are you going? It’s Christmas! Everyone at school said that their whole family is coming over and… and that they unpack presents together and and… and they are together!” She barely could express every fast-moving thought in her small, overworked brain, and sniffling, she wiped the tears from her cheeks.
She stared at her father, waiting for something – anything - but instead, he sighed, shook his head, and looked at her mother. “I’ll get the bags.” Round eyes followed him as Howard left the room, and [Y/N] felt the disappointment in her whole body. Tony scoffed loudly and kissed both her cheeks. “Don’t worry, munchkin. We’re gonna have a blast time together. Movie nights? With cheeseburger and milkshakes and fries?” Slowly, the Stark daughter nodded, still a little unimpressed for the time being, and stretched her arms in Maria’s direction. Tony let his sister leave his protective hug, still internally fuming at the audacity their father had, and the girl walked to the woman to hug her hips closely.
The mother smiled softly down at her, and her fingers stroked through the long strands the girl just didn’t want to have cut at any point. “You know how your father is, honey. Don’t be mad at him because he doesn’t mean it like that.” Tony puffed the air out of his lungs and shook his head. “’Course he means it like that.” Maria threw him an indignant look before turning her attention back to the beloved girl in her arms. “We’re back before Santa even climbs into his sled, I promise, dear. We will bake your favorite cake and have a beautiful family dinner.” [Y/N] still sniffled a bit but nodded, nonetheless. “Okay. But you have to bring me a starfish! Or some seashells! No, both! Yes, I want both.” She nodded, convinced of her decision, and Maria smiled lovingly at her determined daughter, who consistently achieved whatever it was that formed in her little head. “Your father and I will look out for them.”
Speaking of which, Howard came back with the bags in his hands. “Keep your sarcasm at bay while we’re gone. For her sake, not mine or your mother’s,” the older Stark told his eldest son before looking at his daughter. She walked over to him hesitantly and clasped her short arms around his hips, pressing her head against his body. Howard was taken aback but caressed her cheek gently. “Mommy promised me that you’ll find some starfishes and seashells for me.” Her small voice was muffled by the fabric of his suit, but he heard her anyway. “Well, if your mother promised it, we will keep that promise, lovebug,” he told her and bent down to press a loving kiss on her head. Howard Stark couldn’t describe how much he adored his little girl and how sorry he was for sending her to boarding school, for not having more time for her, and for not being able to show her the love she deserved to feel.
But, he thought, I did at least one thing right.
And with that thought, he gave [Y/N]'s head another kiss before unclasping her tight arms gently. “Don’t drive your brother crazy, lovebug.” She nodded firmly and went back to her older brother to hold tightly onto his arm while waving her parents Goodbye.
Years later, this last memory of both of them owned a special place in her heart.
Her mind was elsewhere while stranger after stranger stood in front of the siblings to offer their condolences. [Y/N] wasn’t even sure what happened exactly; she didn’t think about it in more depth. Instead, since the police came to their house, she spent most of her time at the piano in the living room, where Tony found her mostly asleep and curled up on the stool. Now, he held her close to his side, shook hands, and nodded while she stared up at him to watch his doings. She wanted to be as grown-up as he was, so she could do something other than standing around and feeling the sadness rolling through her.
On the other side, Edwin Jarvis pulled a cotton handkerchief out of a pocket and softly wiped her tears away. The girl looked up to him and clung to his hand, pulling him closer to them. With fresh tears in her eyes, [Y/N] leaned her head against his arm and stared at the two tombstones in front of them, always peeking through the crowd as soon as the line went on. She could hear the cameras flashing somewhere in the back of the mourners, and at the unfamiliar sound, she pressed herself tighter against Tony’s side and clasped Jarvis’ hand even harder. She knew she had to grow up faster than others her age, knew that she only had Tony and Jarvis in her life, and that, at some point in time, she would be all alone.
The day of the funeral marked the beginning of her understanding of how the world spun for most of its people and how indifferent the universe was at choosing who should die and who should suffer.
“You don’t have to lift a finger while I’m gone. I’ll be back in three days, anyway. Just sit and relax, enjoy the sun or whatever shit you’re recently up to.” [Y/N] rolled her eyes, a grin spreading out on her lips. “Oh, please. I always have to clean up the mess you left on your way of destruction. At this point, it became my full-time job. You probably have to rethink my job description in case you need to hire a new sister at any point in our life,” she threw right back at him while walking next to Tony, who was finally on his way to the waiting jet. Rhodey had called fourteen and a half times – she had declined his last call, so it didn’t count as a full one – and probably already went into a cardiac arrest.
Tony looked over at her. “Why should I hire a new sister? Are you tired of me? Oh, beloved baby sister. I am so very sorry, but jokes on you, you have to deal with me for the rest of our lives.” [Y/N] rolled her eyes and looked up to the similar pair who still watched her intently. “Don’t worry, I won’t look for a new brother while you’re gone and selling even more weapons. Even though the thought is tempting because you, Tony Stark, are a pain in my ass.” The older Stark laughed and grinned brightly before waving in the direction of an impatiently waiting Colonel Rhodes. “That’s part of my job description as the older brother, munchkin.” She scoffed and hit him with a pile of papers against his chest. “Stop calling me that, dumbass. I’m too old for stupid nicknames. Talking about being too old: You have to really sign these papers of which I reminded you eight times since they arrived two weeks ago.”
They arrived at the waiting jet, but before Rhodey could throw anything in her brother’s face, she raised one finger. “Give me a sec, Rhodey, before his attention span is failing again, and I lose his ability to sign this shit. Do it, now.” With that, she pushed a pen straight into his face and pressed the documents against the outer body of the jet. He sighed, deeply annoyed by his sister, and signed away. “Satisfied, Evil Spawn?” He had to ask to see the not less annoyed expression emerging on that pretty face of hers. “Very, Earth’s dumbest Brother.”
She pushed the papers inside the bag, which hung over one of her shoulders, and pushed Tony in the direction of the staircase. She smiled up to the Colonel and waved softly. “Thanks for waiting, favorite person.” He laughed and waved it off. “Always happy to keep this guy in line. Thanks for bringing him, favorite Stark.” Her brother scoffed indignantly and took the first step. “Stop fraternizing with one another! I’m supposed to be your favorite person and your favorite Stark.” She raised both eyebrows to look at him. “Keep telling yourself that if that makes you happy.” Addressing Rhodey again, she said, “Keep an eye on that idiot, would you? I need him back in one piece. But if the possibility occurs, you can leave his ego behind in the desert. He doesn’t need it.”
Her brother pointed an accusing finger at her. “You little beast.” She shrugged nonchalantly and with a new grin on her lips. “I’ve learned from the best, stupid.” But then, she became serious again and stepped onto the staircase to hug him close with one arm. “Stay safe, Tony.” She never liked it when he left, and she couldn’t be with him because the dark memory of her parents’ passing emerged from its depth within her mind. She couldn’t lose him too. He was everything she had left. And maybe he knew and felt the same because he hugged her tightly to his chest and kissed her hair. “I’m back before you know it. Keep yourself and your mind occupied, okay? Take Miss Potts out for a coffee or whatever women do to spend time with one another. But don’t you dare think of work or be seen in the office, understood? You’re young and beautiful and witty and intelligent. Go and have some fun. You’re not an old lady.” Unseen by him, [Y/N] rolled her eyes. “Whatever,” she mumbled against his shirt and patted his back one last time. “I’ll see what I’m up to. You’re happy now?” Tony evaluated the bargain but nodded. “Send me some pictures of your free time curriculum.” One last time, the Stark kissed her forehead and walked up the stairs before turning around one more time. “Wait. I don’t wanna see anything close to bare skin.” A disgusting expression settled on his face, and [Y/N] chuckled while stepping back. “Haven’t thought you would like that in the first place, idiot. I’ll see you in three days, and don’t party too hard in the mile-high club.” With that, she waved a last time and turned around to walk to Tony’s car to drive it back to the mansion.
Happy already waited for the younger Stark and threw the keys in her direction, which she easily caught. “I’m gonna bring the car back and head to the beach, Happy. You can take the rest of the day off and enjoy the sun yourself.” The security smiled. “Sure thing, [Y/N/N].” She knew he wouldn’t do it. Instead, he would follow her around to keep a watchful eye on her wellbeing. But she tried at least. “Should I get you a cheeseburger for your beach time-out?” She had opened the driver’s door and looked over the roof to the man she adored to the moon and back. “You know what? That sounds like a hell of a good idea, but we’ll eat in the parking lot, inside the car, like really cool dudes. You like milkshakes and fries?” They both grinned at each other before getting in their respective cars and driving off the private airport.
Everything was good.
Until it wasn’t.
“[Y/N]?! Are you still there?”
Rhodey’s voice echoed through the speaker inside the mansion while she fell to her knees and tried to breathe through the exploding pain within her soul. Everything seemed to pass in slow-motion. Her mind couldn’t focus anymore; it jumped from one thought to another, from one conclusion to the next, from one scenario to an even worse scenario. Tears spilled out of her eyes and wetted her cheeks while she hugged herself tightly to prevent falling apart on this very spot on the cold marble floor. Lips moved without letting the words escape. She couldn’t even form them due to the lack of oxygen in her lungs. Her throat closed up, and she choked on the air trapped in it.
A soundless scream left her wide-open mouth while tears fell to the ground. Her heart raced in her chest, trying to break free from the confinements of her ribcage. She didn’t need it anymore because the last one she loved more than anything else in this broken and messed-up world was gone.
He is gone.
He can’t be gone.
But he is gone.
I am alone.
“[Y/N], please! Say something if you’re still there and okay.”
How could she be okay when her brother was dead? How could she ever be okay again? How?! She didn’t know the answer, and she hated not knowing things.
“Sir, Miss Starks heart rate reached a critical point. I’m notifying Mr. Hogan and Miss Potts immediately,” emerged Jarvis’ voice from somewhere in the mansion, and the familiar voice of her long-lost friend and adviser was the last piece in order to shatter everything within her.
If someone asked Colonel Rhodes what he had felt in the following moments, he wouldn’t be able to describe it. Never in his life had he heard such a scream as the one that came through the line all the way from California to Afghanistan. He never had heard such pain and agony coming from a human before, and he wasn’t sure if he could forget it until his last day on earth. And [Y/N]? She only remembered this day in a blurry haze, her brain protecting her by erasing most of its memory about the moment she realized that her brother was gone. She only knew vividly how she knelt on the ground, hugging herself while sobs racked through her aching body, and one question on her lips:
“Why do people always disappear around me?”
Comments, reblogs and likes are much appreciated! Lots of love and thanks for reading!
Between the lines by LucjaP(AO3) or @lucywrites02.
Stephen can be a dick, arrogant, and an asshole but he'll treat you the way you deserve.
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