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@mylittlecomfortcorner
Hi! I have finally created a new Tumblr account cause why not. I'm too tired to constantly introduce myself and how I am like. So there I created this for every new people that would like to get to know me! Though this is like the main things about me! Currently I’m in my dark academia phase so this might be the only post that is bright!
Cat & Mouse in Hawkins High
Below is a short, self-contained yandere Eddie Munson x female!OC fanfic OC name: Rose. Appearance: exactly like Ariana Grande in Sam & Cat (tiny, big doe eyes, red velvet hair in a high ponytail, pastel sweaters, pleated skirts). Personality: painfully shy, soft-spoken, blushes at everything.
The library smelled like old paper and lemon polish. Rose sat at the very back table, knees tucked under her oversized lavender cardigan, red ponytail spilling over one shoulder like a silk ribbon. She was supposed to be finishing her English essay, but the words kept blurring because he was watching again.
Eddie Munson leaned against the mythology shelf, arms crossed, rings glinting under the fluorescent lights. His dark curls fell into his eyes, but those eyes—warm chocolate one second, pitch-black the next—never left her.
Rose felt the stare like fingertips on the back of her neck. She shrank smaller, cheek pressing into the sleeve of her sweater. Don’t look up. Don’t look up.
Too late.
“Hey, Cat.” Eddie’s voice was low, teasing, the nickname he’d given her after she wore cat-ear headbands for a whole week freshman year. He slid into the chair opposite her without asking. “You’re hiding from me.”
“N-no,” she whispered, voice barely a breath. “I’m… studying.”
He plucked the pencil from her trembling fingers and twirled it like a drumstick. “You’ve been studying the same page for twenty minutes, Rosie.”
Her cheeks went scarlet. Only he called her Rosie. Everyone else got “Rose” in that tiny, polite voice she used like a shield.
Eddie leaned in, elbows on the table, chains on his wrist clinking softly. “You know what I think?” His smile was all teeth. “I think you sit back here on purpose. So I have to come find you.”
Rose’s heart slammed against her ribs. She tried to pull her notebook closer, but Eddie’s hand covered hers—warm, calloused, possessive.
“Eddie…”
“Shh.” He turned her hand palm-up and traced a slow circle in the center with his thumb. “You’re shaking. Cute.”
She was. She always did around him. He’d been orbiting her since September—leaving little gifts in her locker (black roses, mixtapes labeled “For My Cat”), waiting by her bike after Hellfire, scaring off anyone who looked at her too long.
Last week Jason Carver had tried to ask her to the spring formal. Eddie had cornered him in the parking lot. Jason hadn’t looked at her since.
Rose swallowed. “People are… talking.”
“Let them.” Eddie’s grip tightened, just enough to remind her how strong he was. “They don’t matter. Only you do.”
Her ponytail slipped off her shoulder as she ducked her head. “I’m not… special.”
Eddie laughed, soft and dangerous. “Oh, Rosie. You have no idea.”
He reached into his leather jacket and pulled out a tiny silver collar charm—a heart with a bell. Before she could react, he clipped it onto the choker she always wore (the pastel one with the bow). The bell jingled when she breathed.
“There,” he murmured, tilting her chin up with two fingers. “Now everyone knows you’re mine.”
Rose’s lips parted, but no sound came out. Her eyes—huge, glossy, —filled with tears she didn’t understand. Fear? Want? Both?
Eddie’s expression softened, but only a fraction. “Don’t cry, baby. I take care of what’s mine.” He brushed a tear away with his thumb, then licked it off like it was candy. “Always.”
The bell rang for sixth period. Students filed out. Rose tried to stand, but Eddie’s hand on her wrist kept her seated.
“Not yet.” He leaned across the table until their foreheads touched. “Say it.”
“W-what?”
“Say you’re mine.” His voice dropped to that velvet growl that made her knees liquid. “Say it, Rosie, or I’ll follow you to every class. I’ll sit behind you in Chem and play with this pretty ponytail until you do.”
Her breath hitched. The library was empty now. Just them and the smell of lemon polish and the tiny bell on her throat.
“I’m…” The words stuck.
Eddie waited, patient as a wolf.
“I’m yours,” she finally whispered, voice cracking like porcelain.
He smiled—slow, victorious, a little unhinged—and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. Soft. Chaste. Terrifying.
“Good girl.” He stood, offering his hand. “Now let’s get you to class. Can’t have anyone thinking they can steal my Cat.”
Rose took his hand with trembling fingers. The bell on her choker jingled with every step as they walked out together—Eddie’s arm around her waist, fingers splayed possessively over her hip, daring the world to try.
She was shy. She was terrified. She was his.
And Eddie Munson made damn sure she never forgot it.
♡ the end ♡
(If you want this continued—maybe a darker chapter where he deals with someone who flirts with Rose, or a soft aftercare scene—just say comment below, sweetheart.)
Strange Love (Series maybe - PT3)
Rose's emotional breakdown. Maybe one day Stephen was out for a mission, rose thrashed the apartment crying. Stephen comes home and for the first time just held her. He lets her attempt to beat his chest and push him away even if she fails at it. He tries to control himself. He plays a dirty trick and summon some demon to make Rose depend on him for safety and sling on to him. after he vanishes the demon she apologises and makes love to him. He adores and devour the affection given. Seeing her ride him willingly and kissing him just makes him feel so unstoppable. blah blah blah
Yes, so WARNINGS : NON-CON, Maybe Age Gap, Erotic? What the hell just read at your own risk, um i suck at english so please be lenient (my mom tries her best to help correct wrong sentences) I only scored b4 for English.
The Sanctum was too quiet without him.
Rose had counted the minutes since Stephen’s portal snapped shut behind him—Dormammu’s fringes acting up again, won’t be long—and the silence pressed against her eardrums like water. She stood in the middle of their bedroom, barefoot on the cold marble, and felt something inside her crack wide open.
She started with the pillows. Grabbed one, screamed into it until her throat shredded, then hurled it at the wall. Feathers exploded. Another followed. Then the crystal decanter on the nightstand—shattered against the wardrobe, amber liquid bleeding down the wood like a wound. She yanked open drawers, upended them; silk ties and cufflinks rained onto the floor. The Cloak of Levitation fluttered in from the hallway, hovering uncertainly, but she snarled at it—“Not you too!”—and it retreated like a scolded dog.
She found the Jenga blocks in the library rubble, still scattered from weeks ago. Kicked them. Stomped them. Splinters bit her heel. In the art room, she seized a half-finished canvas—their sunset, ruined—and clawed at the paint until her nails split and crimson mixed with cadmium. The easel toppled with a crash that echoed through the Sanctum like a gunshot.
She was on her knees in the wreckage, sobbing so hard her ribs shook, when the portal flared gold behind her.
Stephen stepped through, battle-worn, a streak of ichor drying on his cheek. The sight of the devastation froze him mid-stride. Rose didn’t hear him at first; she was clawing at her own arms, trying to dig the ache out of her skin.
He crossed the room in three silent steps, knelt, and wrapped his arms around her from behind. She exploded—fists against his chest, elbows, knees, anything to make space. “Let go, let go, let—” Her blows were wild, ineffective; he absorbed them like a mountain takes rain. When she tried to shove him away, he only tightened his hold, one hand cradling the back of her skull, the other splayed across her trembling spine.
“I’m here,” he whispered, voice rough. “I’m here, Rose. Hit me. Scream. I’ve got you.”
She did. Until her knuckles bruised and her voice gave out into hiccupping gasps. Until she sagged against him, boneless, face buried in the crook of his neck where his pulse thrummed steady and alive.
He carried her to the bed—what was left of it—and sat with her in his lap, rocking gently. The Cloak drifted in, draped itself over her shoulders like a blanket. Stephen’s fingers combed through her tangled hair, untangling knots with sorcerer’s patience. He didn’t speak. Didn’t justify. Just held.
Outside, thunder growled—unnatural, too close. The lights flickered. A low, guttural snarl slithered through the walls. Rose stiffened.
Stephen’s arms tightened fractionally. “Stay right here.”
He rose, set her on the mattress, and turned toward the door. The snarl grew into a roar; shadows peeled from the corners, coalescing into a hulking thing of teeth and ember-eyes. It lunged.
Rose screamed.
Stephen’s hand snapped up. The Sling Ring flared. Crimson bands whipped out, lassoing the demon mid-air, slamming it into the floor with a sound like breaking bones. Another gesture—time stuttered, the creature frozen in a rictus of rage—and he banished it with a single, vicious word. The portal collapsed. Silence rushed back in.
He was breathing hard, shoulders rigid. When he turned, Rose was on her feet, shaking, eyes wide with terror. She stumbled forward—straight into his chest. Her arms locked around his waist like iron.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered against his shirt, voice cracking. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“Shh.” He cupped her face, thumbs wiping tears. “You’re safe. Always.”
(HAHHAHA I can't- with this GIF)
She kissed him first—desperate, clumsy, tasting salt and fear. He groaned into her mouth, hands fisting in her hair, but he let her lead. She pushed him back onto the ruined bed, straddled his hips, fingers trembling as she tore at his tunic. Buttons scattered. Her mouth mapped his throat, his collarbone, the scar just above his heart. When she sank down onto him, slow and deliberate, her eyes never left his.
Stephen’s hands settled on her waist—reverent, not restraining. She rolled her hips, tentative at first, then surer, chasing the rhythm that made his breath hitch. His head fell back, throat bared, a low sound rumbling from his chest as she rode him. Every kiss she pressed to his jaw, his lips, his eyelids—he devoured like a starving man offered ambrosia.
“Rose,” he rasped, voice breaking on her name. “God, look at you.”
She was crying again, but softer now, tears slipping into the hollow of his throat as she moved. He sat up, wrapped her legs around his waist, buried his face in her neck. When she came, it was with his name on her tongue and her nails scoring crescents into his shoulders. He followed seconds later, spilling inside her with a shudder that felt like surrender.
After, he held her close, stroking her back in slow, soothing circles. She clung to him, limbs tangled, breath evening out against his skin.
“I trashed everything,” she mumbled, ashamed.
“I’ll rebuild it,” he said simply. “With you. However you want.”
She didn’t answer—just pressed closer, fingers curling into his hair. Outside, the storm quieted. Inside, the wreckage waited, but for the first time in months, the silence didn’t feel like drowning.
Strange Love (Series maybe - PT2)
Rose's frustrations on attempting to do couple things with strange like playing jenga, watching a movie or drawing...he always make things sexual.
Yes, so WARNINGS : NON-CON, Maybe Age Gap, Erotic? What the hell just read at your own risk, um i suck at english so please be lenient (my mom tries her best to help correct wrong sentences) I only scored b4 for English.
The Sanctum’s library smelled of old parchment and candle wax, the kind of quiet that should have felt safe. Rose had dragged a small wooden table into the corner by the fireplace, set up a battered Jenga tower she’d found in a box marked Avengers Game Night – Do Not Touch. She’d worn her softest sweater, the one that didn’t cling, and tied her hair back in a messy bun—practical, innocent, normal.
“Stephen,” she’d said that morning, voice light, “just one game. No magic. No portals. Just… us.”
He’d smiled, the one that made her stomach flip even now, and agreed.
The tower wobbled on its twenty-third block. Rose’s tongue poked between her teeth in concentration. Stephen sat opposite, legs stretched, one hand lazily spinning a coffee mug that refilled itself with dark roast. His eyes never left her face.
“Your turn,” she whispered, nudging the block toward him.
He plucked it free with two fingers, slow, deliberate. The tower swayed. Rose held her breath. Stephen leaned in, breath warm against her ear. “If this falls, you owe me a kiss.”
“It’s Jenga, not strip poker.”
“Everything’s strip poker if you’re patient.”
The tower crashed. Blocks scattered like startled birds. Rose laughed—startled, genuine—then caught herself. Stephen was already moving, chair scraping back, knees hitting the rug. His mouth found hers before she could protest, hands sliding under the sweater, thumbs brushing the lace edge of her bra. The game forgotten, the fireplace crackling too loud, her back against the table’s edge as he lifted her onto it. Wood dug into her spine. The Jenga blocks crunched beneath them.
“Stephen, we didn’t even finish—”
“We will,” he murmured, teeth grazing her throat. “Later.”
Two nights later, she tried again. Movie night. Spirited Away—something gentle, nostalgic. She’d made popcorn with real butter, dimmed the lights, curled into the couch with a blanket big enough for two. Stephen joined her, cloak discarded, wearing grey sweatpants and that half-smirk that promised trouble.
Ten minutes in, Chihiro’s parents turned into pigs. Rose sniffled, reached for a tissue. Stephen’s hand intercepted hers, guiding it to his thigh instead.
“Focus on the film,” she tried, voice small.
“I am.” His fingers traced lazy circles on her wrist. “You’re crying. Let me fix it.”
He kissed the tears from her cheeks, slow, reverent—then not slow at all. The blanket tangled around her ankles. Popcorn spilled across the cushions. The movie played on, forgotten, subtitles flickering over their skin as he pressed her into the couch, one hand muffling her gasps against his palm.
The art room was her last sanctuary. Skylights, canvases, the faint smell of turpentine. Rose had set up two easels side by side, squeezed cadmium red onto a palette like a peace offering.
“Couples paint night,” she’d announced, cheeks pink. “No touching the brushes with anything but paint.”
Stephen raised an eyebrow but obeyed—for twelve minutes.
She was blocking in a sunset, tongue between teeth again, when his shadow fell over her canvas. His brush dipped into cerulean, then trailed—not on his paper, but down the inside of her forearm, cool and wet.
“Stephen—”
“Shading,” he said innocently. The brush moved lower, circling her wrist, then the hollow of her elbow. Paint smeared across her skin like bruises.
She stepped back. “I just wanted to make something. Together. Not… this.”
His eyes darkened. “You are making something. You’re making me insane.”
The easels toppled. Paint splattered—red across his cheek, blue streaking her collarbone. He pinned her to the drop-cloth, mouths clashing, hands slick with color. She tasted turpentine and him. Her sundress hiked to her waist, his belt clinking open. The canvas beneath them soaked up their heat, colors bleeding into a abstract mess neither of them would frame.
The escape attempt came after the art room.
She waited until he portaled to Kamar-Taj for a “briefing.” Three hours, maybe four. She packed light: passport, a hoodie, the emergency cash she’d hidden in a hollowed-out book (Herbology for Beginners). Wong was in the courtyard, pruning bonsai.
“Wong, I—I need to visit my aunt in Queens. Stephen said it’s fine.”
Wong didn’t look up. “Portal’s faster. I’ll open one.”
“No!” Too sharp. She softened. “I want the train. Normal. Please.”
He frowned, shears pausing. “You okay, kid?”
She almost broke then. Almost spilled everything—the prophecy, the nights she woke sore and trembling, the way Stephen’s love felt like drowning. But the Sanctum’s walls had ears. She saw it in Wong’s eyes: trust in Stephen, blind and ancient.
“Fine,” she lied. “Just homesick.”
Wong nodded, resumed trimming.
She made it to Grand Central. Heart hammering, ticket to anywhere-but-here clutched in sweaty fingers. The train hissed, doors opening—
Time stuttered.
Passengers froze mid-step. A child’s balloon hung suspended. Rose’s legs locked. Stephen stepped out of a portal that hadn’t been there a second ago, cloak billowing like judgment. His expression was calm. Terrifyingly calm.
“Going somewhere, love?”
She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. He walked the length of the platform, boots echoing in the silence, until he stood before her. His fingers brushed her cheek, smearing a streak of cadmium red she hadn’t noticed was still there.
“You left your easel,” he said softly. “We weren’t finished.”
The portal swallowed them both.
Back in the Sanctum, he didn’t yell. Didn’t punish with pain. He simply laid her on their bed, stripped her with reverent hands, and made love to her until she was sobbing—not from hurt, but from the cruel gentleness of it. Until her body arched into his despite her mind screaming no. Until she whispered his name like a prayer she hated herself for knowing.
After, he held her, stroking her hair. “You’ll try again,” he murmured, “and I’ll always bring you home. That’s the real prophecy, Rose. You and me. Forever.”
She stared at the ceiling, paint still under her nails, and felt the last piece of fight drain out of her.
Tomorrow, she thought dully, maybe she’d suggest Scrabble.
He’d probably fuck her on the tiles.
Strange Love (Series maybe - PT1)
Slow intense burn romance. Stephen slowly becomes obsessed and possessive of sweet clueless naive Rose. They get married because Strange tells her a prophecy. It's actually a fake one but no one knows except her. Everything seems fine in public. Not even Wong suspects a thing. But close doors Stephen is one hell of a insatiable man that yearns for her.
Yes, so WARNINGS : NON-CON, Maybe Age Gap, Erotic? What the hell just read at your own risk, um i suck at english so please be lenient (my mom tries her best to help correct wrong sentences) I only scored b4 for English.
The Sanctum Sanctorum hummed with an unnatural stillness that night, the air thick with the scent of ancient incense and the faint crackle of arcane energy. Rose stood by the tall, arched window, her delicate frame bathed in the moonlight filtering through the stained glass. Her hair, styled in those soft, cascading waves framed her heart-shaped face, her wide eyes reflecting a mix of innocence and quiet unease. She wore a simple silk gown, the fabric clinging to her petite curves, unaware of how it stirred the man watching her from the shadows.
Stephen Strange, the Sorcerer Supreme, leaned against the doorway, his sharp features half-hidden in the dim light. His cloak fluttered faintly, as if sensing his mood. To the world, he was the charming, heroic doctor turned master of the mystic arts—brilliant, composed, untouchable. To Rose, his wife of mere months, he was a storm barely contained. Their marriage had been swift, sealed by a prophecy he’d woven with careful words: “The balance of the multiverse rests on our union, my love. You are the light to my shadow.” She’d believed him, her sweet, trusting heart accepting the weight of destiny. Only she knew the truth now, whispered in a moment of vulnerability he’d dismissed with a kiss. The prophecy was a lie, a chain he’d forged to bind her to him.
Publicly, they were perfect. At Avengers gatherings, Stephen’s hand rested possessively on her waist, his smile dazzling as he introduced her as his Rose. Wong, ever the loyal friend, saw nothing amiss—only a man smitten, a woman glowing in love. Even when Steve Rogers offered a warm handshake or Thor’s booming laugh lingered too long on Rose’s shy smile, Stephen’s public facade never cracked. His eyes, though, burned with a promise of retribution.
Tonight, they’d returned from a gala at Stark Tower. Thor had been his usual exuberant self, lifting Rose in a playful hug that made her giggle. Steve had complimented her dress, his boyish grin earnest. Innocent moments, nothing more. But Stephen’s jaw had tightened, his fingers digging into her hip as they portal-ed home. Now, in the privacy of their bedroom, the air crackled with his barely leashed hunger.
“Rose,” he purred, his voice low, dangerous, as he stepped closer. She turned, startled, her lips parting in that clueless way that drove him mad. “Did you enjoy their attention tonight?”
Her brows furrowed, confusion clouding her doe-like eyes. “Stephen, they were just being kind. Thor’s always like that, and Steve—”
“Kind?” He was on her in an instant, his hands gripping her wrists, pinning them above her head against the window. The glass was cold against her back, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from him. “You’re mine,” he growled, his lips brushing her ear, sending shivers down her spine. “Every smile, every laugh, every inch of you belongs to me.”
She gasped, squirming under his hold, but his strength was unrelenting. “Stephen, please, I didn’t mean—”
“You don’t need to mean anything,” he cut her off, his voice dripping with possession. His free hand tore at the silk gown, the fabric ripping easily under his fingers. She was bare beneath, her skin flushed and trembling. “You just need to learn.”
Hours later, Rose lay sprawled across the bed, her body limp, slick with sweat, and aching. Stephen was insatiable, his hands and mouth claiming every part of her as if branding her soul. He’d taken her against the window, on the floor, and now on the bed, each time more intense than the last. She’d begged at one point, her voice hoarse, “Stephen, it hurts, please stop…” But he hadn’t. His eyes, wild with need, only darkened, his thrusts relentless even as she went still, her body yielding to his will.
Once, in the dead of night, she’d woken to him inside her, his movements slow and deliberate, coaxing her body to respond even as her mind screamed for rest. Another time, when her pleas grew too desperate, he’d frozen time itself—arcane symbols glowing faintly around them—fucking her until her body betrayed her, arousal flooding her senses despite her exhaustion. She’d come undone, sobbing his name, hating how he could make her crave him even as she feared him.
Rose had tried to escape his hold. A whispered confession to Wong, who’d only chuckled, assuming she was joking about Stephen’s “passion.” A coded message to Natasha, intercepted by a charm Stephen had woven into her phone. Even her thoughts weren’t safe; he’d once caught her daydreaming of freedom and punished her with a night so intense she couldn’t walk the next day. Slowly, agonizingly, she was bending to him, her resistance crumbling under the weight of his dominance.
Now, as dawn crept into the Sanctum, Stephen lay beside her, his arm draped possessively over her waist. His fingers traced lazy circles on her skin, a stark contrast to the ferocity of hours before. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. “My Rose. My everything.”
She didn’t respond, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, her body too tired to move. But deep inside, a flicker of something—resignation, perhaps, or the beginnings of surrender—stirred. Stephen smiled, sensing it. She was his, completely, utterly, and no prophecy, real or fake, would ever change that.
bittersweet 🖤 a yandere!john wick x fem!reader coffee shop sunshine/grump au
Table of Contents
something sweet
burned
the cougar
the mountain
lamb in the lion's den
avenging angel
the book thief
joyride
pest
drunk text
mondo piccolo
la dolce vita
vino veritas
kitten
walk of shame
bad girl
got u
war and peace
crime and punishment
lost and found
bound for hell
deal with the devil
show me your teeth
bully
knots
breaking point
surprise
haunted
lady of the daisies
say something
run
hard lesson
suits & guns
quite continental
purgatory
rough play
ruse
the honorable thing
pool time
parlay
reprieve
home sweet home
surprise
the god of death
halcyon daze
rude awakening
just business
tbc...
captain Jack sparrow fanfic cuz I’m bored
Captain Jack Sparrow stood at the bow of his ship, the Black Pearl, as it cut through the choppy waters of the Caribbean. His eyes were fixed on the horizon as the sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the water. But his mind was elsewhere, consumed with thoughts of his young wife, Elizabeth.
Elizabeth had been forced into marriage with Jack against her will, a political arrangement made by her wealthy family. She was barely out of her teenage years, with long golden locks and innocent blue eyes that haunted Jack's dreams. He knew she did not love him, and he was plagued by guilt over the situation.
As Jack paced the deck, he caught sight of Elizabeth standing alone at the railing, her eyes fixed on the sea. She looked so fragile and vulnerable, and Jack couldn't help but feel a surge of protectiveness towards her. Without thinking, he approached her, his footsteps silent on the deck.
Elizabeth jumped in surprise as Jack's hand closed around her arm, pulling her towards him. She looked up at him with wide eyes, a mixture of fear and uncertainty in her gaze. Jack's heart twisted at the sight, knowing that he was the cause of her distress.
"We're reaching land soon, luv," Jack said gruffly, his voice rough with emotion. "You'll need some proper clothes if we're going to blend in."
Elizabeth nodded silently, allowing Jack to lead her towards the gangplank as they reached the shore. The people on land stared at them curiously, their eyes lingering on Elizabeth's delicate features and the rugged pirate captain at her side. Jack could feel their judgment like a physical weight on his shoulders, and he tightened his grip on Elizabeth's hand protectively.
He hurried her through the crowded streets, ignoring the whispers and the stares that followed them. Finally, they reached a small shop tucked away in a side alley, where Jack quickly selected a few modest dresses for Elizabeth to try on. As she disappeared behind the curtain, Jack paced nervously, his thoughts in turmoil.
He knew that he had no right to feel this way towards Elizabeth, that his desperate need for her was selfish and wrong. But he couldn't help himself, couldn't deny the fierce protectiveness and longing that gripped his heart whenever he looked at her.
When Elizabeth emerged from behind the curtain, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, Jack couldn't help but admire how the simple cotton dress clung to her curves. She looked like a vision of innocence and beauty, and Jack felt a surge of desire that made his blood run hot.
As they left the shop and headed back towards the ship, Jack kept a close eye on Elizabeth, making sure she was safe and unharmed. He couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gripped him whenever they were apart, a constant fear that something would happen to her.
Back on the Black Pearl, Jack watched Elizabeth as she stood at the railing once more, her eyes fixed on the horizon. He approached her cautiously, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Elizabeth," he said softly, his voice barely a whisper. "I know this marriage was forced upon you, and I understand if you can never forgive me. But please know that I will do anything to protect you, to keep you safe from harm."
Elizabeth turned to him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She reached out a trembling hand, cupping Jack's cheek gently.
"I may not love you, Jack," she said softly. "But I can see the goodness in your heart, the fierce loyalty and protectiveness that you show towards me. And for that, I am grateful."
Jack felt a rush of emotion overwhelm him, a mixture of relief and gratitude. He pulled Elizabeth into his arms, holding her close as they watched the sun set over the horizon.
Hades x Reader
Trigger warning: This story contains non-consensual sexual content and may be disturbing to some readers.
The air was thick with the scent of sulfur and the sound of flames crackling in the distance. You had always been fascinated by Greek mythology, but nothing could have prepared you for the reality of being face to face with the Lord of the Underworld himself, Hades.
It all started innocently enough. You had stumbled across a mysterious portal while exploring an ancient ruin, and in a moment of curiosity, you had stepped through. What you found on the other side was a dark and twisted realm where shadows danced and whispered in the corners, and the very ground seemed to pulse with malevolent energy.
But it was Hades who caught your eye. Tall and imposing, with sharp features and piercing red eyes that seemed to see straight through to your soul. He radiated power and danger, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as he approached you with a predatory smile on his lips.
"I have been watching you, little mortal," he purred, his voice like velvet and steel. "You intrigue me. I have a proposition for you."
You should have been afraid, but something in his gaze held you captive, and before you knew it, you had agreed to his terms. It was only later that you realized the gravity of your mistake.
Hades had tricked you into signing a contract, a binding agreement that would seal your fate for eternity. In exchange for your soul, he promised to save your parents from a fate worse than death. But as you quickly discovered, his definition of salvation was far from what you had imagined.
The first time he laid hands on you, you fought back with all the strength you could muster, but it was no use. Hades was relentless, his touch burning like fire and ice as he tore through your defenses and left you trembling and broken in his wake.
He took you again and again, a cruel and merciless master who reveled in your pain and fear. You were nothing but a plaything to him, a pawn in his twisted game of power and control.
And yet, there was a part of you that craved his touch, that hungered for the dark pleasure he could give you. It was a sick and twisted thing, born of terror and desperation, but it was there all the same.
Each time he entered you, it was like being ripped apart and put back together again, a cycle of agony and ecstasy that left you gasping and sobbing for more.
His thrusts were brutal and unrelenting, driving you to the brink of madness as he pushed you beyond your limits and into a world of pleasure and pain that you had never known existed.
And then, in a final act of cruelty, he released himself inside you, flooding your body with his seed and marking you as his forever. His dick remained lodged deep within you, a constant reminder of your submission and his power over you.
You tried to fight back, to resist and rebel, but it was no use. Hades had you in his grip, and there was no escape from the darkness that consumed you.
You were his now, body and soul, trapped in a hellish nightmare of your own making. And as he continued to use you for his own twisted pleasure, you knew that there would be no end to the torment he would inflict upon you.
For in the realm of Hades, there was no mercy, no redemption, only pain and suffering without end. And as you lay broken and defeated at his feet, you knew that you would never be free from his grasp, no matter how hard you tried to flee.
Dark Stephen Strange x Reader
Warning! Non-Con minors not allowed only 18+
The moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the darkened streets of New York City. (Y/N) hurried through the empty alleyways, her heart pounding in her chest. She had just finished a long shift at the hospital and all she wanted was to get home to her husband, Doctor Stephen Strange.
As she approached their apartment building, a feeling of unease washed over her. The air seemed to crackle with a strange energy, sending shivers down her spine. Ignoring her instincts, she pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The sight that greeted her made her blood run cold. Doctor Strange stood in the middle of their living room, covered in blood. His eyes were filled with a dark fire, his expression a mix of anger and lust. (Y/N) felt a wave of fear wash over her as she took in the scene before her.
"Stephen, what happened?" she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. But Doctor Strange seemed to be in no mood for explanations. In a swift movement, he grabbed her and pressed his lips roughly against hers, his hands gripping her tightly.
The smell of blood and violence filled her nostrils, making her stomach turn. Doctor Strange knelt to the floor, his eyes fixed on her with a hunger that sent a chill down her spine. He spread her legs wide, exposing her swollen, wet pussy to his hungry gaze.
His tongue flicked over her clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through her body. (Y/N) gasped, her muscles tensing as she felt the sweet sensations washing over her. Doctor Strange savored her taste, a mix of honey and musk that drove him wild with desire.
She came with a force that nearly knocked the breath out of her, her body shuddering with pleasure. Doctor Strange didn't stop, his lips and tongue working relentlessly to bring her to the brink of ecstasy over and over again. She lost count of how many times she came, each wave of pleasure washing over her like a tidal wave.
Exhausted and spent, (Y/N) collapsed against Doctor Strange, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. But Doctor Strange was far from done. With a hunger that seemed insatiable, he pushed himself inside her, filling her with his throbbing member.
The sensation of being filled by him was overwhelming, sending a surge of pleasure through her body. Doctor Strange moved with a relentless rhythm, his hands gripping her hips with a force that bordered on pain. The sound of their bodies slapping together filled the room, mingling with her moans of pleasure.
She felt his climax building, a deep roar of pleasure building in his chest. With a final thrust, he released his seed inside her, filling her with his essence. They lay tangled together, their bodies slick with sweat and passion, the air around them heavy with the scent of sex and blood.
As (Y/N) drifted off to sleep, a sense of foreboding lingered in the back of her mind. The events of that night would haunt her for the rest of her days, a dark shadow that would never be fully erased from her memory. In the darkness of their bedroom, Doctor Strange gazed down at her sleeping form with eyes filled with a hunger that would never be sated.
Doctor Strange x reader (Hogwarts)
It was a dark and stormy night at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The students were all tucked away in their dormitories, the professors were finishing up their last tasks of the day, and (Y/N) was in her office grading papers. As a professor at Hogwarts, she was well-loved by all the students, and had a special friendship with Severus Snape, the Potions Master.
Little did anyone know, (Y/N) had a secret. She was married to none other than Doctor Strange himself, the renowned superhero and protector of the mystics and magic in the muggle world. They had kept their marriage a secret, as they both led busy lives and didn't want to draw attention to themselves.
But one day, everything changed. Dumbledore announced that Doctor Strange would be joining the Hogwarts staff as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. The news spread like wildfire through the school, and even Harry Potter was in awe at the thought of learning from such a powerful and respected figure.
As Doctor Strange took his seat at the staff dinner, (Y/N) nervously fidgeted beside him. She hadn't seen her husband in a long time, and hadn't told anyone about their marriage. As the staff bombarded Doctor Strange with questions and admiration, he found it amusing to see his wife squirming in her seat. He discreetly slid his hand beneath the table and began to finger fuck her, causing her to gasp and bite her lip to stifle her moans.
After the dinner ended, Doctor Strange knew he had to find a way to be alone with (Y/N). He couldn't just teleport into her office, as Hogwarts had wards against such magic. So he waited for Severus Snape to leave (Y/N)'s office, then teleported into her bathroom and waited for his wife to join him.
As soon as he saw her enter the bathroom, Doctor Strange pulled her into his arms and kissed her passionately. (Y/N) moaned against his lips, her hands pulling at his cloak as he pressed her up against the wall. The tension between them was electric, and Doctor Strange couldn't resist the urge to take her right then and there.
With a flick of his wrist, Doctor Strange cast a silencing charm around the room, ensuring that no one would hear their illicit activities. He pushed (Y/N) against the wall, his hands roaming over her body as he kissed her hungrily. She wrapped her legs around his waist, eager for the release that only her husband could give her.
Doctor Strange wasted no time in satisfying his wife's desires. He tore off her clothes and entered her roughly, causing (Y/N) to cry out in pleasure as he thrust into her with a primal ferocity. The sound of their bodies slapping together echoed through the bathroom, the air thick with the scent of sex and magic.
As Doctor Strange claimed his wife, he couldn't help but revel in the forbidden thrill of their encounter. The knowledge that they were breaking the rules only added to their passion, fueling the fire that burned between them. And as they reached their climax together, (Y/N) knew that she would never be able to look at Severus Snape the same way again.
In the aftermath of their tryst, Doctor Strange and (Y/N) cleaned themselves up and composed themselves before leaving the bathroom. They emerged into the hallway, their faces flushed with satisfaction and their bodies still tingling with the memory of their lovemaking.
As they walked back to their respective quarters, Doctor Strange couldn't stop grinning at his wife. He knew that their secret would eventually be revealed, but for now, he was content to bask in the knowledge that they had shared something special and forbidden. And as they disappeared into the shadows, the echoes of their passion lingered in the air, a tantalizing reminder of the magic that existed between them.
Doctor Strange (husband) x Reader x Severus Snape - Alternate scenario
It was a normal day at Hogwarts, with students bustling about the halls and professors preparing their lessons. (Y/N) was in her classroom, going over the syllabus for her upcoming Defense Against the Dark Arts class. She was a well-loved professor, known for her kind nature and exceptional teaching skills. One of her closest friends at the school was Severus Snape, the intimidating Potions Master. Despite his cold exterior, he had always been a loyal and trustworthy companion to (Y/N).
Little did anyone know, (Y/N) had a secret. She was married to Doctor Strange, a brilliant and powerful sorcerer who traveled between dimensions and fought off mystical threats. (Y/N) had kept her marriage hidden from her colleagues at Hogwarts, knowing that her husband's presence would only complicate things in the magical world.
One fateful day, a group of portals suddenly appeared in the Great Hall, causing chaos and destruction. The Avengers, including Doctor Strange, were fighting off a group of powerful enemies who had somehow infiltrated Hogwarts. The students and staff were in danger, but Doctor Strange quickly sprung into action, using his magical abilities to shield everyone from harm.
As the battle raged on, (Y/N) and Severus Snape stood side by side, watching in awe at the incredible display of power. Little did they know, Doctor Strange was the one fighting to protect them. (Y/N) felt a pang of guilt as she realized that her husband had finally found her, despite her efforts to keep their marriage a secret.
Suddenly, Doctor Strange appeared in the Great Hall, his eyes locked on (Y/N) with a mixture of anger, hurt, and lust. He glared at her possessively, causing Severus Snape and the other staff to stand up in defense of their beloved professor. Doctor Strange ignored their protests, stepping forward and portal right behind (Y/N).
The air crackled with tension as Doctor Strange and (Y/N) stood face to face, their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills. Severus Snape watched in shock as he realized the truth of their relationship, his own feelings of betrayal and confusion swirling within him.
"Y/N," Doctor Strange's voice was low and dangerous, sending shivers down her spine. "You can't hide from me forever. You are my wife, and I will not let you slip away again."
(Y/N) swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew that Doctor Strange was right, that she couldn't run from their relationship any longer. She had to face the truth, no matter how painful it may be.
As the Avengers defeated the enemies and the portals closed, Hogwarts was left in quiet chaos. (Y/N) and Doctor Strange stood in the wreckage of the Great Hall, their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills. Severus Snape watched from a distance, his heart heavy with the weight of their betrayal.
In the end, (Y/N) made her choice. She turned to Doctor Strange, her heart heavy but resolute. "I'm sorry, Stephen," she whispered, using his real name for the first time in years. "I can't do this anymore. I have to let you go."
Doctor Strange's eyes softened, a hint of regret flashing in his gaze. He nodded, understanding the pain in her eyes. With a wave of his hand, he opened a portal and stepped through, disappearing from Hogwarts and (Y/N)'s life once more.
As the dust settled and the students and staff began to pick up the pieces, Severus Snape approached (Y/N) with a mixture of concern and empathy in his dark eyes. "Are you alright, my dear?" he asked softly, reaching out to touch her arm.
(Y/N) nodded, her heart heavy but grateful for his support. She knew that she had made the right choice, for herself and for the future of Hogwarts. And as she looked into Severus Snape's eyes, she knew that she was not alone in this new chapter of her life.
Doctor Strange (Husband) x Reader (wife) x Severus snape
In the mystical world of magic and superheroes, (Y/N) stood out as a beacon of light. She was a talented professor at Hogwarts and her students adored her for her kindness and wisdom. Among her closest friends was Severus Snape, the mysterious and brooding Potions Master. Despite his gruff exterior, Snape had a soft spot for (Y/N) and they shared a deep bond of friendship.
Unbeknownst to everyone at Hogwarts, (Y/N) was secretly married to Doctor Strange, the Sorcerer Supreme. They had met years ago in the realm of magic and had fallen deeply in love. However, their marriage was kept hidden from the rest of the world, as Doctor Strange's duties as a protector of the universe often kept him away from (Y/N).
One fateful day, a rift in the fabric of reality opened up in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. The Avengers, a group of powerful superheroes, were locked in a fierce battle with a group of interdimensional villains. Chaos erupted as spells clashed with high-tech weaponry, causing damage to the ancient walls of Hogwarts.
Amidst the chaos, Doctor Strange appeared in a flash of light, his cloak billowing behind him. With a wave of his hand, he created a powerful shield to protect the students and teachers from harm. The battle raged on, but Doctor Strange's magic held strong, keeping everyone safe within the Great Hall.
Once the battle was over and the Avengers had vanquished their foes, (Y/N) rushed to Doctor Strange's side, her heart pounding with worry. Severus Snape watched in astonishment as (Y/N) tended to her husband, fussing over him with a look of deep concern on her face. And then, to everyone's surprise, (Y/N) leaned in and kissed Doctor Strange, her love for him shining in her eyes.
Severus Snape stood in shock, unable to comprehend the scene unfolding before him. He had never imagined that (Y/N) was married, let alone to someone as powerful and enigmatic as Doctor Strange. As he watched the couple embrace, a pang of jealousy stirred in his heart, and he realized with a jolt that his feelings for (Y/N) went beyond mere friendship.
As the days passed, Severus found himself drawn to (Y/N) more than ever before. He sought out her company, relishing in their conversations and the warmth of her smile. And yet, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered within him. He wondered if he could ever compete with Doctor Strange, a man of immense power and wisdom.
Meanwhile, (Y/N) was torn between her love for Doctor Strange and her growing affection for Severus Snape. She knew that she had to be honest with both of them, but the thought of hurting either of them pained her deeply. She wrestled with her emotions, unsure of which path to follow.
One evening, as she walked the halls of Hogwarts, (Y/N) found Severus standing alone in the courtyard, his face hidden in shadow. She approached him tentatively, her heart heavy with guilt.
"Severus," she began, her voice soft with emotion. "I need to talk to you."
Severus turned to face her, his eyes searching hers. "What is it, (Y/N)?" he asked, his voice tinged with sadness.
"I... I need to tell you something," (Y/N) started, her words faltering. "I love Doctor Strange, but I also care for you deeply. I don't know what to do."
Severus stared at her, his expression unreadable. And then, to (Y/N)'s surprise, he reached out and took her hands in his own.
"(Y/N)," he said, his voice gentle. "I may not have magic or power like Doctor Strange, but I have something more valuable. I have my heart, and it belongs to you."
Tears welled up in (Y/N)'s eyes as she realized the depth of Severus's love for her. In that moment, she knew that she had found true happiness in the arms of the man who had been there for her all along.
And so, (Y/N) made her choice. She chose love over power, and in doing so, she found a happiness that she had never thought possible. With Doctor Strange's blessing, she embarked on a new chapter of her life with Severus Snape, the man who had captured her heart with his quiet strength and unwavering devotion.
As they walked hand in hand through the halls of Hogwarts, (Y/N) and Severus knew that their love was destined to stand the test of time. And as the stars twinkled overhead, the magic of their love shone bright, illuminating the world with its boundless beauty.
Severus snape x reader where reader accidentally ruined his clothes in the great hall
You had been enjoying your breakfast in the Great Hall when disaster struck. As you reached across the table for the salt, you accidentally knocked over a pitcher of pumpkin juice, spilling it all over Severus Snape's robes.
Gasps and whispers filled the hall as you frantically tried to mop up the mess with a napkin, but it was no use. Snape's robes were ruined.
Before you could even apologize, Snape stood up from his seat and approached you. His face was unreadable as he grabbed your hand and pulled you into a hug, much to the shock of everyone in the hall.
"Are you alright?" he asked quietly, his voice surprisingly gentle.
You blinked in surprise, not expecting such a compassionate response from the usually stoic professor. "I-I'm fine, Snape. I'm so sorry about your robes," you stammered, feeling guilty for causing such a scene.
But Snape just shook his head and gave you a small smile. "Don't worry about it, Miss (Y/L/N). Accidents happen. Let's get you cleaned up first," he said, leading you towards the nearest bathroom.
As the two of you walked away, whispers and murmurs followed you, with many students and staff members surprised by Snape's uncharacteristic display of concern. But you couldn't help but feel grateful for his unexpected kindness, and as you cleaned up in the bathroom, you couldn't stop thinking about how the stern and intimidating Severus Snape had just hugged you and asked if you were okay.
Sherlock Benedict Cumberbatch x reader where Sherlock don’t want to let go of reader’s hand
You and Sherlock were walking down the street, hand in hand. You had just finished a case together and were discussing the details of the investigation. As you reached the entrance to 221B Baker Street, Sherlock suddenly stopped and turned to face you.
"What is it?" you asked, noticing the serious look on his face.
Sherlock took a deep breath, his eyes locked on yours. "I…I don't want to let go of your hand," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.
You were taken aback by his words. Sherlock was not known for his displays of affection, so this admission caught you off guard. "Sherlock, it's okay," you reassured him, squeezing his hand gently. "You don't have to let go."
Sherlock's lips quirked up in a small smile, and he laced his fingers with yours even tighter. "Thank you," he murmured, before leading you inside the familiar walls of 221B.
As you sat down on the couch, Sherlock retreated into his mind palace to process the information from the case. You watched in awe as he closed his eyes and sank into a deep state of concentration.
But to yours and John’s shock, Sherlock's hand remained firmly clasped in yours, even as he delved deeper into his thoughts. John raised an eyebrow at the sight, surprised by Sherlock's unexpected display of vulnerability.
You smiled softly, gently stroking Sherlock's hand with your thumb as you sat by his side, grounding him with your touch. And as Sherlock emerged from his mind palace, he opened his eyes to find you still holding on, a look of love and understanding in your eyes.
Sherlock's expression softened, and he pressed a tender kiss to the back of your hand. "Thank you for staying," he whispered, his voice filled with gratitude.
You squeezed his hand in response, a silent promise to always be there for him, no matter what challenges lay ahead. And as you sat there, hand in hand, you knew that together, you and Sherlock could conquer anything that came your way.
Sherlock Benedict Cumberbatch x reader where reader fell asleep on his lap
You were sitting on the couch with Sherlock, your head resting on his lap as you dozed off, exhausted from a long day of solving cases with him. The rest of the team was scattered around the living room, chatting and relaxing after a successful day of work.
John nudged Sherlock, nodding towards you sleeping on his lap. "Looks like someone can't handle the detective life," he teased with a chuckle, earning a few laughs from the others in the room.
Sherlock simply raised an eyebrow at John before turning his attention back to you, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "She's had a long day," he stated matter-of-factly, his tone serious and protective.
The room fell silent at his words, everyone stunned by his rare display of emotion. Sherlock was not known for his compassion or empathy, but in that moment, he showed both in the way he looked at you with a softness in his eyes.
John cleared his throat, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, looks like Sherlock has a soft spot after all," he joked, but there was no malice in his tone this time.
Sherlock ignored the comment, focusing solely on you and making sure you were comfortable as you slept in his lap. He may not have been the most affectionate person, but in that moment, he showed just how much he cared for you.
And as the others quietly watched the scene unfold, they couldn't help but feel a sense of respect and admiration for the detective and his unwavering loyalty to you.
Doctor strange x reader where Doctor strange is angry and jealous
You were excited to celebrate your birthday with the Avengers, who had become like a second family to you since joining their team. But one person was noticeably absent from the festivities - Doctor Strange.
You had tried to invite him to join the party, but he had coldly declined, citing important business in the mystical realm that needed his immediate attention. You couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment at his absence, especially since you had been looking forward to spending your special day with him.
As the night progressed and the celebration continued, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. It wasn't until you spotted Doctor Strange standing alone in a corner, glaring at you and the other Avengers with an unmistakable look of anger and jealousy in his eyes, that you realized what was wrong.
Approaching him cautiously, you asked, "Stephen, is everything okay? I missed you at the party."
He scoffed, turning his gaze away from you. "I'm sure you didn't miss me that much if you had all these other people to keep you company."
You tried to explain that you had wanted him to be there, but he cut you off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Save it. I know where I stand in your priorities, and it's clearly not at the top."
Feeling hurt and confused by his outburst, you tried to reason with him, but he was unwilling to listen. With a heavy heart, you left the party early, feeling torn between your loyalty to the Avengers and your love for Doctor Strange.
In the days that followed, you tried to reach out to him, but he remained aloof and distant. It wasn't until he finally relented and met you for a conversation that you were able to clear the air between you.
"I'm sorry for my behavior on your birthday," he admitted, his voice tinged with regret. "I let my jealousy and insecurity get the better of me, and I pushed you away when I should have been there for you."
You forgave him, understanding that his feelings had stemmed from a place of vulnerability rather than malice. As you embraced each other, you knew that while your bond may have been tested, it had come out stronger on the other side. And as you looked into each other's eyes, you knew that there was no one else you would rather celebrate your birthday with than Doctor Strange.
Severus snape x reader comfort
It was a rare sight to see Severus Snape smiling, let alone waving at someone. But that's exactly what happened one sunny afternoon at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
As you walked through the crowded halls, you heard whispers and gasps echoing around you. Everyone seemed to be staring at something, or rather, someone. Turning the corner, you saw your Potions professor, Severus Snape, standing at the end of the hallway, a small grin on his usually stoic face.
You couldn't believe your eyes as Snape waved at you, his dark eyes sparkling with a touch of warmth. You felt your heart skip a beat as you tentatively waved back, a smile spreading across your face.
The whole school seemed to be in shock as they watched Snape's uncharacteristic display of affection towards you. Some students even whispered about a possible love potion being involved, but you knew that wasn't the case. Snape may have a tough exterior, but you had seen glimpses of his softer side through your interactions with him in class.
As you made your way towards him, Snape's smile faded slightly, but the warmth in his eyes remained. "Good afternoon, Miss/Mr. (Last Name)," he greeted you, his voice softer than usual.
You returned his greeting, feeling a mix of surprise and happiness at this unexpected interaction. Maybe there was more to Severus Snape than meets the eye, and maybe, just maybe, you had managed to bring out a different side of him.
As you continued on your way, you couldn't help but smile, knowing that maybe, just maybe, there was a possibility for something more between you and the mysterious Potions professor. And with that thought in mind, you couldn't wait to see what the future held.
