Feb 3, 2021
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
The Archer (Stephen Strange x Reader)
A/N: Was this requested? Absolutely not. Just another random spur of the moment idea on my way to work that I just had to write. I tried to make the reader gender neutral so hopefully it comes off that way? Also, did this get out of hand? Absolutely. Am I sorry? No. Anyways, as always, thanks to my best friend and my constant cheerleader and support @unknownauthor for everything she does. Seriously, Shay. Thank you. Ilysm. Title comes from the song The Archer by Taylor Swift.
Warnings: Swearing probably. Nothing else I can think of? Oh, mentions of violence and blood I think. Also, probably Avengers: Endgame spoilers.
Word count: 5,219.
As usual, likes are nice, reblogs are absolutely indescribably wonderful! Kisses, lovelies!
(Not my GIF)
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The second Stephen waltzed through the door, a smug and satisfied smirk on his lips, he started regaling you with how he embarrassed his fellow doctor, Dr. Nicodemus West, in front of every other doctor and nurse working the same shift as them that afternoon. He noticed your position curled up on the couch in the living area of your shared loft and a look of worry crossed his features. He crossed the room to you, kneeling down beside you to touch the skin of your forehead with the back of his hand. “Are you feeling alright, darling?”
“I feel like shit, Stephen. I think I’m dying,” you sighed, nuzzling your head against his hand. He chuckled, shaking his head at you, fondly.
“You don’t have a temperature. I’ll fetch some medicine for you to take to hopefully get you back on your feet. But perhaps you should skip tonight’s events, darling. Just to get some rest.” Stephen stood up, disappearing from the room for a moment before he returned with a bottle of medicine. He placed it on the coffee table before turning towards the kitchen to pour you a glass of water. You took the water and the pills as he offered them, gratefully.
“Definitely rather glad now that I married a doctor,” you teased, trying to sit up. Stephen helped you up, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders. “But I do want to go tonight!” Your husband shook his head.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to insist that you stay here until you feel better, sorry.” You pouted, shrinking back into the couch cushion. Stephen rolled his eyes. “I do only want you to feel better, you know.”
“I know, but still. They’re going to think you’ve already offed me.” Stephen chuckled again.
“They will do no such thing. I will give them your regards and make your excuses but I really must start getting ready, my love.”
“That’s exactly what someone who committed mariticide would say…” you muttered. Stephen rolled his eyes again. You sighed, moving to lay back down on the couch, your eyes closed as Stephen made his way to the bedroom, clutching the blanket wrapped around you in your hand. You could hear him moving about the room from your spot on the couch, listening to the sound of him humming as he went about, the click of his watch drawer opening and shutting after a moment of him searching for the right watch. You heard him emerge from the room after a while and you opened your eyes to look at him. You smiled, releasing the blanket. He smiled back, giving you a slow spin so you could see the entire look. You took note of the presence of the watch you had gifted him as a wedding present only months prior, smiling softly at the sight. He crossed the room again to you, kneeling down once more to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. You sighed, reaching out to clutch at the lapel of his suit to keep him with you. He chuckled against your forehead.
“Darling, I have to go or I’ll be late. I won’t be long. Do you want me to help you to bed before I leave?” You nodded, slowly. Stephen smiled, gently lifting you into his arms. He carried you to the bed, setting you down on the bed and adjusting the covers over you. “I’ll call you on my way back so you know when to expect me home.”
“Okay. I love you, Stephen.” He smiled, leaning down to kiss your forehead again.
“And I love you, darling.” He turned to leave before you called out for him. He paused at the door, turning to look back at you.
“Don’t let the attention go to your head. It’s far big enough as it is,” you teased. He rolled his eyes before stepping through the door. You laid in silence for a moment before wrapping yourself up with the blanket tighter, your eyes fluttering closed.
It felt like only minutes later, your phone started ringing. You sat up, blinking blearily at the glowing device. You hesitated for a moment at the sight of Christine Palmer’s name on the screen, expecting your husband’s name instead. “Hello?”
“Y/N. You need to get to the hospital. Now.” At the urgent edge in Christine’s voice, you threw the covers off, throwing on the first clothes you found in the darkness.
“What happened? What’s wrong?”
“It’s Stephen. He... He had an accident. There’s a lot of damage. He’s being airlifted in so you need to hurry.” You froze, every muscle in your body tense. You grabbed shoes, slipping them on as you hurried out the door and down to the car.
—————
You hadn’t moved from his bedside in 38 hours, Christine supplying you and ensuring you had nourishment in you. Just when you started thinking maybe she was right, maybe you should go home and shower and change out of the sweatpants and Stephen’s shirt you had thrown on in your rush, you noticed movement out of the corner of your eye. Your head swiveled over to see Stephen’s stormy gray eyes flicker open, his gaze unfocused. He tried to move his hand and you winced, flying from your seat to gently lay a hand on his arm. “Stephen. Stephen, listen to me. You can’t move your hands, honey. Please just lay still,” you begged, your voice breaking halfway through. Stephen’s eyes widened in horror as he took in his hands, the steel pins protruding from his broken hands.
“What did they do?” he whispered, his voice rough from disuse.
“They rushed you in a chopper. But it took a little while to find you.”
“What did they do?!?” he demanded, his voice level rising. Your lip started trembling at the pain lacing his voice. You turned away, covering your mouth with your hand as you tried to calm yourself.
“11 stainless steel pins in the bones. Multiple torn ligaments. Severe nerve damage in both hands. You were on the table for 11 hours,” Christine supplied from the doorway. She started into the room slowly.
“Look at these fixators.” Stephen’s eyes stayed transfixed on his hands.
“No one could have done better,” Christine murmured, coming to stand beside the bed.
“I could have done better,” Stephen whispered, his voice hard and bitter.
—————
You slipped in the door of the loft, carrying a small bag of groceries. “Hi,” you greeted Stephen, smiling softly. At his forsaken expression, your face fell. “He won’t do it.”
“He’s a hack. There’s a new procedure in Tokyo. They culture donor stem cells and then harvest them and 3D-print a scaffold. If I could get a loan together, just…” Stephen started, his voice trailing off as he turned away from you.
“Sweetheart…”
“A small loan, 200,000,” he added, shaking his head.
“Stephen. You’ve always spent money as fast as you could make it but now you’re spending money we don’t even have. Maybe it’s time to consider stopping. This isn’t helping anyone,” you tried, walking towards him. You reached for his hands but he jerked away from you. You let your hands fall to your side and tried to ignore the sting of hurt.
“No. Now is exactly the time not to stop. Because, you see, I’m not getting any better!” He held his trembling hands up, angrily.
“But this isn’t medicine anymore. This is mania. Some things just can’t be fixed, Stephen. Please.”
“Life without my work…” Stephen trailed off, his eyes focused on the city outside the window.
“Is still life, Stephen! This isn’t the end. There are other things that can give your life meaning.”
“Like what, Y/N? Like you?” You jerked back as if you had just been struck at the spite and anger in his voice, tears starting to form at the corner of your eyes. You stumbled back as your vision became watery with unshed tears. A sob ripped from your throat and you begged and pleaded internally with whatever god or deity was up there that your husband would move to comfort you as you turned away. Two minutes, maybe longer passed and the silence kept on, broken only by your infrequent cries. You turned back to see Stephen still staring out the window like a blind man trying to see.
“I—” You were broken off by another sob, your frame trembling as you cried. “How could you—” You covered your mouth to stifle your cries before you moved for the door, grabbing your coat and cellphone. You turned back one last time. Stephen hadn’t moved. “I can’t do this anymore—Not right now.” You wrenched the door open and with every step you took away, your heart broke a little more.
***********************************
It had been months since you had seen your husband. Months since you returned to the loft to find your husband gone and his phone left abandoned on the bedside table. You had just barely managed to keep the place, though most of the furniture that once decorated the space had been sold off in hopes it would help you to be able to keep the place, even with the bare minimum. You didn’t do much these days. You went to work and back home and that particular day, months after your husband had disappeared, you found yourself at home, off for the day. A noise startled you out of your trance, like the sound of a doorknob being rattled. At first, you simply wrote it off as your mind playing tricks on you. At least, until the door opened and Stephen waltzed in the door. Then you really thought you had lost all rationale. “Hello.” You stiffened at his carefree nature.
“Hello? Hello?!? You disappear for months and then waltz back in here like you’ve never been gone and all you can say is hello?!?” you exclaimed, gritting your teeth to keep from shouting at him as you leapt up from your chair. Then, at least, he finally had the sense to look at least a little sheepish.
“Darling—”
“No! You don’t get to ‘darling’ me and think it will fix everything, Stephen! I thought you were actually dead! What could you honestly have to say for yourself? And what the fuck are you wearing?” Stephen’s lip quirked up into a half smile.
“I joined a cult.” His words shocked you out of your anger.
“Wha— Stephen, please tell me that you are joking.”
“Well, yes, I was joking about the cult thing but… You might should sit down for this, darling.” You scrutinized him for a moment before he gestured a shaking hand towards the chair you had vacated. You sat down. “Well, I… I went to Katmandu.”
“You— Nepal?! Katmandu? Like the Bob Seger song?” Stephen nodded.
“1975, Beautiful Loser, side A, yeah. And yes, that would be the only one to the best of my knowledge. A place there called Kamar-Taj… I’ve been living there, trying to make my hands whole again. The Ancient One—”
“‘The Ancient One’? Fuck, Stephen, you actually joined a cult—”
“It’s not a cult. I’m studying to become a Master of the Mystic Arts.” You stared at him for a moment, hoping he would realize how ridiculous he sounded and snap out of it, but his expression remained serene. After another few minutes of you staring blankly at him, he sighed, rolling his eyes. “Fine. Apparently I’ll have to prove that I’m not crazy to multiple people today.” He raised his hands, one hand drawing a circle in the air while the other remained still. You yelped as orange sparks started appearing as he continued the circular motion. You blinked a few times as the living area started to fade from the center of the circle to a small, shabby-looking bedroom. Stephen lowered his hands before reaching a trembling hand out to you. You hesitated for a moment before you accepted his hand, following him through.
***********************************
“Strange!!”
You groaned, turning over to look at the clock. “Wong, it’s like 8:30 on a Saturday. Fuck off,” you called back before burying your face in the pillow. Stephen hummed in agreement, his arm tightening around your waist.
“I think you might want to get up for the day.”
“And why would I want to do that, Wong?” Stephen sighed.
“Thor Odinson might possibly be on his way here as we speak.” Stephen sat upright.
“What? Why would Thor Odinson be on his way here?”
“I may have trapped his brother in a portal when they arrived on earth.”
“Loki? You seriously trapped Loki Laufeyson in a portal?” you clarified, sitting up after a moment.
“A portal to where exactly?”
“Just a portal where he’ll continue to fall until his brother comes to collect him.”
“Fuck,” Stephen muttered, throwing the sheets off of his body to get dressed. You watched him for a moment before starting to rise to your feet. “No, stay here. Get some sleep. I’ll be back as soon as I take care of this. Stay here.” He shook his head. You rolled your eyes, settling back against your pillow as you watched him slide a shirt on, far too fascinated by the muscles moving below his skin. He turned to look at you and smirked. “Think I should get rid of the God of Thunder as soon as possible?”
“I wouldn’t complain if you did,” you replied, grinning slightly. “Otherwise I might have to start without you.” Stephen narrowed his eyes at you.
“Don’t you dare.” He crossed the room, leaning down to kiss you soundly before he started towards the door. As he opened the door, the Cloak of Levitation flew towards him, wrapping around his shoulders before the end of it flapped at you in a wave. You giggled, waving back. The door shut and you listened to the front door opening, curiously. After a moment, you climbed out of bed and slipped on a pair of Stephen’s pajama pants and a tank top. You paused at the door before slipping out. You made your way to the kitchen, winding through the familiar halls. You grabbed a mug before you started to make yourself a cup of hot chocolate. From above, you could hear thuds and muffled conversation coming from the levels above you. You listened for a moment before you started back towards Stephen’s room with your mug in hand. As you passed the downstairs entryway, Stephen appeared at your side, raising an eyebrow at you. At the sound of a thud beside you, your head swiveled over to find Thor Odinson crashing down the stairs.
“Oh my…” you whispered, your lips curving into a faint smile. Stephen rolled his eyes as he started to form a portal.
“We could have just walked,” Thor grumbled, dusting himself off as he returned to his feet. His eyes landed on you and he smiled. “Well, hello.” Stephen turned back to Thor, his eyes narrowed scarcely enough for anyone else to perceive but you knew your husband.
“He’s waiting for you.” Stephen gestured to the portal.
“Alright,” Thor murmured, nodding once as his attention turned to the portal.
“Don’t forget your umbrella,” Stephen reminded him, as though it was an afterthought.
“Oh, yes.” Thor held out his hand and you winced at the sound of distant crashing floated down the stairs. “Sorry…” Thor muttered, his expression a trifle sheepish. After another moment, the umbrella finally returned to his hand. “There we go.” Thor shook the umbrella out, shards of glass raining to the floor. You and Stephen shared an exasperated look at the mess. “I suppose I’ll need my brother back.” Stephen blinked once. He stepped in front of you slightly, shielding you before he raised a hand to form a portal in the air. You raised an eyebrow at the distant screaming coming from the portal before Loki fell to the ground.
“I have been falling for thirty minutes!” he shouted, flipping his hair back. He clambered to his feet, glaring at his surroundings. His eyes landed on Stephen and you tensed up.
“You can handle him from here,” Stephen said, completely ignoring the god.
“Yes. Of course,” Thor replied, with a nod. He reached out to shake Stephen’s hand. “Thank you very much for your help.” Stephen nodded, shaking Thor’s hand.
“Good luck.”
“Handle me? Who are you?” Loki asked, withdrawing two knives from his sleeves.
“Loki,” Thor began, his voice low with warning.
“You think you’re some kind of sorcerer? Don’t think for one minute, you second-rate…” Stephen rolled his eyes before lifting his hand.
“Yeah, alright, bye-bye,” he replied, flicking his hand and sending the portal flying towards the brothers. The portal shut and you stepped up to stand by Stephen’s side. He turned to meet your eyes before you started laughing, shaking your head. Stephen rolled his eyes, a slight smile on his lips. “Come on. Let’s get back to bed.” You nodded, taking his hand with a smile.
***********************************
You followed a casually dressed Stephen down the stairs of the Sanctum with Wong. “Seriously? You don’t have any money?” Stephen asked, turning to Wong as he reached the ground floor.
“Attachment to the material is detachment from the spiritual.” You sighed in exasperation at Wong, coming to stand beside Stephen.
“I’ll tell the guys at the deli,” he paused, smiling wryly, “Maybe they’ll make you a metaphysical ham on rye.” Stephen shot you a wink and you started to giggle.
“Oh, wait, wait, wait,” Wong started, rifling through his pockets, “I think I have two hundred.”
“Dollars?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Rupees.”
“Which is…?” Stephen sighed.
“Uh, buck and a half.” Wong shrugged. You rolled your eyes.
“What do you want?” Stephen asked, turning back towards the grand entranceway.
“I wouldn’t say no to a tuna melt.” Suddenly, something crashed through the roof of the Sanctum, landing in the stairs. The Cloak of Levitation immediately swirled around Stephen’s shoulders, now fully dressed in his mage attire. The hulking green figure began to shrink into a man as Wong and Strange ran towards him, readying themselves into defensive positions.
“Thanos is coming. He’s coming…” the man babbled. You slowly started forward to stand beside your husband as he and Wong shared a confused look. “Tony Stark. You have to find Tony Stark.” Stephen hesitated for a moment, giving Wong a meaningful look before squeezing your hand. You turned, watching as he formed a portal to Central Park, stepping through. You hurried from the room to find the man some new clothes instead of his tattered, shredded apparel. You returned, handing him the new clothes which he gratefully accepted with a small smile. “Who are you? Who is that man? What is this place?”
“I’m Y/N Strange. That man is Stephen Strange, the acting Sorcerer Supreme. Welcome to the New York Sanctum,” you replied with a soft smile. You turned away as he got dressed before he ventured towards the portal, stepping through. Stephen returned through the portal a moment later, flanked by the man who had crashed-landed in the Sanctum and Tony Stark. Tony gestured for an explanation and Stephen turned to Wong, nodding once. Wong turned, raising his hands to show the universe and five colored stones.
“From the dawn of the universe, there was nothing. Then, boom! The Big Bang sent six elemental crystals, hurtling across the virgin universe. These Infinity Stones each control an essential aspect of existence,” Wong began, his eyes fixed on the swirling image of the universe. Stephen stepped forward, his own gaze lifted upwards.
“Space. Reality. Power. Soul. Mind. And Time.” Each crystal glowed bright as Stephen named them. Stephen raised his hands, opening the Eye of Agamotto to reveal the Time Stone glowing bright. Tony Stark watched, his attention focused on the Masters of the Mystic Arts.
“Tell me his name again.”
“Thanos. He’s a plague, Tony. He invades planets. He takes what he wants. He wipes out half the population. He sent Loki. The attack on New York. That’s him.” Tony’s face paled as his friend spoke.
“This is it…” he whispered, his gaze far away. He focused back on the group in front of him. “What’s our timeline?”
“No telling. He has the Power and Space Stones, that already makes him the strongest creature in the whole universe. If he gets his hands on all six Stones, Tony…” You watched as the former-green man spoke.
“He can destroy life on a scale hitherto undreamt of,” Stephen spoke up, his tone serious. Tony started to stretch, leaning on the Cauldron of the Cosmos. You rolled your eyes.
“Did you seriously just say ‘hitherto undreamt of’?” Stephen turned to Tony.
“Are you seriously leaning on the Caldron of the Cosmos?” Stephen asked, his voice monotone.
“Is that what this is?” You stifled a giggle behind your hand as the Cloak smacked Tony’s arm, surprising him enough to stop him from leaning against the artifact. Tony’s expression shifted to one of offense and he straightened himself. “I’m going to allow that. If Thanos needs all six, why don’t we just stick this one down the garbage disposal?” Stephen rolled his eyes.
“No can do,” he replied, drily.
“We swore an oath to protect the Time Stone. With our lives,” Wong agreed. You nodded from beside Stephen.
“Okay, real quick, I get that you two are magicians or whatever I guess. But who’s the other one?” Tony asked, his gaze flickering to you.
“I don’t know if you know this or not, douchebag, but I can speak for myself. I’m Y/N Strange. And I’m still probably more intelligent than you believe yourself to be.” Stephen smirked as you glared at Tony, crossing your arms over your chest.
“So you’re not involved with any of this?”
“Aside from my husband being the man to protect the Time Stone, not much. But I sure as hell know more about any of this than you could ever dream to know and comprehend.”
“Strange, huh? Weird but whatever.” Tony turned back to Stephen and Wong. “And, anyways, I swore off dairy, but then, Ben & Jerry’s named a flavor after me, so…”
“Stark Raving Hazelnuts,” Stephen murmured.
“It’s not bad.” Stephen raised a shoulder in a half-shrug to Tony.
“A bit chalky.”
“‘A Hunka-Hulka Burning Fudge’ is our favorite,” Wong agreed.
“That’s a thing?” As you turned to look at the man, it hit you. Bruce Banner. Of course he was!
“Whatever. Point is: things change.”
“Our oath to protect the Time Stone cannot change. This Stone may be the best chance we have against Thanos.”
“And still conversely, it may also be his best chance against us,” Tony countered, raising an eyebrow at Stephen.
“Well, if we don’t do our jobs.” Tony rolled his eyes at Stephen.
“What is your job exactly, besides making balloon animals?” Tony asked, condescension dripping from his words. Stephen turned to examine Stark evenly.
“Protecting your reality, douchebag.” You grinned.
“Okay, guys, could we table this discussion right now? The fact is that we have this Stone. We know where it is. Vision is out there somewhere with the Mind Stone, and we have to find him now.” Bruce shook his head.
“Oh, this should be good,” you muttered, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, that's the... thing,” Tony started, awkwardly.
“What do you mean?” Bruce asked, examining Tony.
“Two weeks ago, Vision turned off his transponder. He's offline.”
“What? Tony, you lost another super bot?”
“I didn't lose him. He's more than that. He's evolving,” Tony rebutted.
“Who could find Vision, then?” Stephen asked, rolling his eyes.
“Shit,” Tony muttered before raising his voice to speak to the others in the room, “Probably Steve Rogers.”
“Oh, great,” Stephen sighed, scowling slightly.
“Maybe. But…” Tony sighed.
“Call him,” Bruce started, his expression confused.
“It's not that easy. God, we haven't caught up in a spell, have we?” Tony started, shaking his head slightly.
“No,” Bruce replied, shaking his head.
“The Avengers broke up. We're toast.” You snorted, rolling your eyes. Bruce deflated, his expression a mixture of confusion and disappointment.
“Broke up? Like a band? Like The Beatles?” Tony shrugged.
“Cap and I fell out hard. We're not on speaking terms.”
“Tony, listen to me. Thor's gone. Thanos is coming. It doesn't matter who you're talking to or not,” Bruce pleaded. Tony hesitated for a moment, before pulling out an ancient looking flip-phone.
Tony muttered “Flip phone,” before his finger started hovering over the “call” button. He paused, looking around as the ground started rumbling softly below their feet. “Say, Doc, you wouldn't happen to be moving your hair, would you?” Tony asked, his eyes fixed on Stephen’s hair. You turned your head to look at your husband, his hair fluttering ever so slightly.
“Not at the moment…” Stephen paused, his eyes raised to focus on the lock of hair as well, “no.” You glanced up, through the hole in the Sanctum roof to find debris floating by outside. Tony started to the door first, Bruce following close behind. Wong glanced at Stephen before moving towards the door. You reached out, grabbing Stephen’s trembling hands.
“Stephen, look at me,” you whispered, worry clear in your voice. He looked over at you, his expression soft. “Please. Be careful. They’re coming directly for you. Please don’t do anything dramatic or stupid. Come back to me,” you pleaded. Stephen scoffed.
“Me? Do anything dramatic or stupid? When would I ever?”
“Literally all the time. Every day. It’s not an uncommon thing for you.” Stephen smiled. He leaned in to kiss you, pulling your body flush against his.
“I will come back to you. I will do everything in my power to come back to you. But you must leave here. I’ll try to lure them away. Please go back to the loft. Wait for me there. I’ll tell Bruce where you are if need be. Please be safe, okay? You are not allowed to leave me either,” he replied, his voice gentle after he pulled away.
“Please hurry. I’ll be waiting for you. Be safe, Stephen,” you agreed, stepping back once he raised his hands to form a portal to the living room of your shared loft. You stepped through before turning to look at him, one final time, worry coiled like a snake in the pit of your stomach. He smiled, the same soft smile he reserved only for you. The portal shut and you stood there alone in silence to await his return.
***********************************
You sit at the kitchen table, stirring your spoon in your coffee lazily. It’s quiet, shockingly so but it is always too quiet now. Nothing like the hustle and bustle of what used to be New York.
A knock sounds on the door and you sigh in exasperation. It happens, far too often for your liking. People knocking on the door of your loft, hoping you aren’t there so they can claim it as their own. “For the last time! Someone actually lives here.” The hallway is quiet for a moment before you hear a key in the lock and the sound of the door opening. You tense up, your mind racing. Maybe someone was able to get a key from the office somewhere and they don’t care if you’re there or not. You slowly turn around to face the door and your breath catches in your chest. Stephen stands on the threshold on the door, battered and bloodied, but alive just the same. A sob tears from your throat as you fling yourself out of the chair to run to him. He catches you easily, steadying you before wrapping his arms around you, wincing a bit at his injuries.
“I’m here. I’m so sorry,” he whispers, his shaking fingers combing gently through your hair as you try to calm yourself.
“How— What— Stephen, what the fuck just happened? How—” you start, your mind reeling at the sight of your husband after five years.
“I promise I will explain everything but first I might need some assistance,” he promises, releasing you to stumble into the loft. You wrap an arm around him to help shoulder his weight before you sit him on the couch and run to find first-aid supplies.
“Okay, what do I do, Stephen?” you ask, kneeling down beside him.
“I have a few lacerations but they will heal. Do we have any old newspapers? Or a towel?” You nod before running to grab some old newspapers and a towel. “Okay, roll the newspaper up. Grab a bandage and a square of gauze.” You do as you’re told, applying the bandage and gauze to his injured arm. “Place the newspaper under my forearm and tape it at the top and the bottom of the newspaper. In the middle, it will only cause more damage to my arm.” You nod, grabbing the tape and securing the newspaper to his arm, making sure not to cut off the circulation of his arm.
“Are you hurt anywhere else? What do you need me to do?” Stephen shakes his head, leaning it back on the couch to rest his eyes.
“Everything else is minor and will heal on its own.” He lifts his head, turning to look at you as you sit on his right side, away from his injured arm. You gingerly rest your head on his shoulder, curling into his side.
“What happened?” you asked, your voice soft.
“The only way to stop Thanos was to sacrifice myself until the others could right his wrongs. They were able to use quantum physics to return to the past, recollect the time stones, make their own gauntlet and snap their own fingers to return everyone that had been lost. Thanos followed them from another past and tried to redo the snap. We fought them and we won. Because of Tony Stark.” You sat in silence for a moment, thinking back to the day when you had learned of Thanos. “How long did you wait?” Stephen’s soft voice breaks you out of the memory, as vivid as the day it happened five years ago. You laugh softly.
“I never truly stopped waiting. I hoped every time I heard a noise or someone by the door that it would be you. Waltzing in like nothing ever happened. Like you always did,” you admit. Stephen hums softly.
“I would say I had hoped you had moved on, but I am still a selfish man. I’m glad that I got to come back to a world where you are still mine,” Stephen replies, letting out a deep breath.
“Come on, Stephen. Let’s get you to bed.” You stand up from your spot, turning to help him up. Stephen smirks.
“Why, Y/N Strange, are you trying to seduce me?” You roll your eyes.
“Okay, first, you say that like it would be a challenge. Second, you’re much too injured for anything of the sort. I’m gonna need your arm to heal fairly soon though. You know how fond of your hands I am.” Stephen chuckles, wrapping an arm around you as you lead him to the bedroom. After five years, you finally felt whole again.
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Of Plays And First Kisses
Request: I would like a story where Rami and the reader are in high school and they both get the leads in the school play it can be whatever play you decide but they’re romantic interests.
Ily Shay ( @interfectorem-regina ), I hope this is at least half as good as everything you write!!
Also, remember guys. If you liked it, likes are absolutely incredible but reblogs are infinitely better!!! Ily guys.
I slung my book bag over my shoulder as I entered the auditorium. Rami gave me a grin from his spot perched on the edge of the stage. “Hey, Jules, how’s it hanging?”
“Oh, I’m doing great, Romeo. Too bad I might not survive much more of this relationship,” I quipped back, rolling my eyes as I hopped up to sit next to him. He clutched his chest in fake anguish.
“You’re killing me here, Juliet,” he sighed, leaning back to lay flat on his back, staring at the rafters.
“I think your ego will keep you alive until the last scene of this play at least.” As people started filing into the auditorium, Rami stood up and offered me his hand to help me to my feet.
“One more week,” I breathed, biting my lip nervously.
“Hey, don’t be nervous, Y/N. You’ll do great. And even if you don’t, it’s me they’ll be watching,” he replied, shooting me a wink. I gasped, reaching over to smack my best friend’s arm. “I am only teasing. You’ll do amazing. They won’t know what hit them!” he added, wrapping an arm around me to pull me into his side. I smiled, wrapping my own arm around him before releasing him and stepping away.
After rehearsal, me and Rami were sitting in the classroom, running over a few more lines while the teacher reset everything in the auditorium for the next rehearsal. I paused, looking over at Rami to find his eyes already trained on me. “Hold on, I... Are we doing the kiss scene tomorrow?” Rami nodded, raising a hand to rub the back of his neck.
“I’ve never kissed a girl,” he muttered, looking away, his dark skin flushing slightly. My eyes widened.
“Really? You haven’t had your first kiss?” Rami shook his head, still not meeting my eyes. I laughed softly.
“Can I tell you something?” I asked and he finally met my eyes, nodding once. “I haven’t either.” Rami let out a relieved laugh. I laugh with him, leaning my head on his shoulder. We sit in silence for a minute before I speak up again. “Should we...should we just get it over with so we don’t have our first kiss in front of the entire cast and crew tomorrow?” He turned to me on the couch, his eyes searching my face. He nodded, slowly, his tongue darting out from between his lips to lick at them, the movement drawing my attention to his mouth. I scooted forward so I was sitting almost in between his legs and hesitantly lean forward, our lips brushing before he reached out securing my chin between his fingers, pressing his lips more firmly to mine. I kissed him back, my own hand reaching out to the back of his neck to stroke the hair at the nape. We pulled away, both breathing heavily, our eyes scanning the other’s face.
“Wow. That was...” Rami laughed, the sound bringing a smile to my lips. “Go out with me. I think it’s been long coming enough to ask that.”
“You didn’t really ‘ask’ anything. That wasn’t a question,” I breathed, my eyes wide as I watched him. He smiled, leaning forward and kissing me softly again. He pulled away, keeping his lips a few centimeters away from my lips.
“Will you go out with me?” he breathed, his lip brushing mine as he spoke.
“Alright. I will,” I replied, closing the small gap myself this time. As the door started to open I darted away, grabbing my script and trying to look normal as I examined it.
“What are you two still doing here?” Mrs. May asked, raising her eyebrows at us.
“We were just going over some lines real quick. Come on, Y/N. I’ll drop you at home,” Rami replied, an easy grin on his lips. Mrs. May smiled, nodding. We gathered our belongings before heading towards the door.
“Have a good night, kids! I’m really proud of how hard you two are working for this production.” I turned back to give her a smile.
“Thanks. Goodnight, Mrs. May!” I replied, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. Rami echoed my reply before opening the door for me. I smiled as I stepped out of the room. He held out his hand and I took it as we walked in a comfortable silence to his car. He opened the door for me and I gave him another soft smile as I climbed in. Once he had climbed into the car, he leaned over the middle console, kissing me soundly again. I smiled against his lips.
“I could definitely get used to this,” he murmured, sitting back against his seat before he started the car to drive away as I laughed softly beside him.
New Rules (Stephen Strange x Female!Master of the Mystic Arts!Reader)
A/N: So, yes, I live and I’m still in love with Doctor Strange currently and celebrating the release of details for a sequel!!! Still sorta sorry but oh well, what are ya gonna do lol. So like? This is sort of like all of the Avengers being young and attending a school together for super-heroey stuff? Also, obviously based off the song New Rules by Dua Lipa. Y/N is obviously *Your Name*, Y/N/N is “Your Nickname*. And, as always, thank you to my platonic soulmate, the Roger Taylor to my Freddie Mercury for everything, @unknownauthor .
Warnings: Probably swearing. Adult themes (like mentions of smut stuff and pregnancy-scare mention)
You know the drill at this point. Likes are cool, reblog are literally motivation to write more!!!
(Not my GIF)
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One, one, one, one, one
Talkin' in my sleep at night, makin' myself crazy (Out of my mind, out of my mind) Wrote it down and read it out, hopin' it would save me (Too many times, too many times)
My love, he makes me feel like nobody else, nobody else But my love, he doesn't love me, so I tell myself, I tell myself
“Hey, kiddo. Why the long face?” You looked up from your phone to find Carol Danvers standing in front of you, her green and black backpack slung over one shoulder carelessly. You winced.
“You realize I’m only three years younger than you, right?” You bit her lip, pausing. “I may have done something really, really dumb,” you admitted, with a sigh. Carol raised an eyebrow before sitting down next to you.
“How dumb are we talking here?” Carol asked, her voice soft. You looked around to make sure none of the others were within earshot before looking back to Carol.
“Like sleeping with my best friend dumb.” Carol let out a low whistle.
“Shit, kid. You slept with Strange?” You groaned, putting your head in your hands. Carol noticed Tony Stark glance your way, his eyebrows furrowing together in worry as he noticed your distress. Carol waved him off.
“Yeah, I did. Now what the fuck do I say to him? How do we go back?”
“Well, do you want to go back?” You sat up again.
“Of course I do! He’s my best friend. I don’t want things to be awkward between us.”
“If you want to just be friends, why did you sleep with him?”
“What other option do I have than to hope things go back to normal or lose my best friend?” You sighed, rolling your eyes.
“Trying to make a real relationship with him. Obviously you must be at least slightly attracted to him,” Carol pointed out, gently.
“Of course I am. Have you seen him?”
“Then why not try?”
“Have you seen me? I don’t think he’s ever even thought about an actual relationship with me. I’m surprised he even said yes. I don’t think he has the same feelings for me and what if I bring it up and I’m right? Then I really, truly lose my best friend.”
“Okay, first, you’re adorable. Why wouldn’t he like you?” You groaned. “What? You are. And there’s only one way to know for sure how he feels. And what do you mean ‘said yes’?”
“‘Adorable’. See? That’s not typically a great thing to be if you want people to take you seriously.” You tensed up slightly. “I may or may not have......possibly asked him to fuck me hard......because I was stressed out and tense and......needed the release.”
“Jesus Christ, Y/N/N. Then what are you going to do? Just ignore the elephant in the room? Keep sleeping with him?”
“I don’t know. Carol, what am I gonna do?” You sighed, laying your head on the older girl’s shoulder.
“I don’t know what to tell you. But I know someone who might,” Carol replied, with a half shrug. You lifted your head to curiously look at Carol. “Hey, Strange. How’s it going?” Stephen quirked an eyebrow as he walked past Carol.
“I’m still alive, so that’s something.” Stephen glanced at you over his shoulder for a moment before calling back, “Hey, Y/N/N. Spell practicing later?”
“You’re the boss, Sorcerer Supreme.”
One: Don't pick up the phone You know he's only callin' 'cause he's drunk and alone Two: Don't let him in You'll have to kick him out again Three: Don't be his friend You know you're gonna wake up in his bed in the morning And if you're under him, you ain't gettin' over him
You were laying upside down on your bed, a pencil between your lips as you squinted at the notes you had taken over one of your sources when you heard a knock at your open dorm room door. You glanced towards the door to find Carol leaning against the doorframe. “How was spell practice with the wizard?”
“Master of the Mystic Arts,” you corrected her, gesturing your friend into the room. Carol closed the door behind her and sat down on the carpeted floor, raising an eyebrow. “I think......I think we’re fuck buddies.”
“You didn’t.”
“......I really did,” you sighed, sitting up. You sat there for a moment before turning to face Carol again, tucking your legs underneath yourself. You tucked the pencil behind your ear.
“You’re already way too attached to him to survive this, Y/N.”
“Of fucking course I am. He’s my best friend. I......” you paused, turning to look over at the wall, “Shit. I think...... I think I’m in love with him.”
“Y/N/N, you have to end this. You’re gonna get yourself hurt. You have to break this off. Go back to being just friends while you still can. You know Stephen. He won’t mean to hurt you but we both know it will happen.”
“How though? I don’t know how I can be close to him and just not...not love him.”
“You might need to take a break from being his friend. Can’t you practice spellwork or whatever with Wong?”
“I mean I can but......he’s my best friend? How do I just......take a break from that? How do I avoid my best friend? I don’t want to hurt him and make him think I hate him or that I’m mad at him when he hasn’t done anything. I’m the one that fucked things up between us...”
“Make some rules up for yourself to follow. Just tell him you’re going to be a little AWOL for a while. You do have a ton of papers and exams to finish up, right?” You nodded, biting your lip. You sighed, flopping onto your back to stare at the ceiling.
I got new rules, I count 'em I got new rules, I count 'em I gotta tell them to myself I got new rules, I count 'em I gotta tell them to myself
I keep pushin' forwards, but he keeps pullin' me backwards (Nowhere to turn, no way) (Nowhere to turn, no) Now I'm standin' back from it, I finally see the pattern (I never learn, I never learn)
But my love, he doesn't love me, so I tell myself, I tell myself I do, I do, I do
“Hey, Miss- Sorry, Y/N. I don’t mean to, I don’t know, spy on you, but it’s just. The table keeps vibrating and I just...... Shouldn’t you answer your phone? I think someone needs to get a hold of you.” You looked up, pausing your music and taking your other earbud out.
“I’m really sorry, Peter. I hope this isn’t distracting you from your work,” you apologized with a sigh.
“Oh, no, you’re fine!! I know that MJ keeps texting me so my phone keeps vibrating so really, you’re okay! I just. I don’t know, figured I should say that? But really, it’s not bothering me!” You smiled at the boy.
“You’re a good kid, Peter Parker. You know that?” Peter smiled, opening his mouth to say something when you heard a heavy sigh behind you.
“He’s way too young for you, Sorcerer’s Apprentice.” You turned to find Tony Stark, his arms loaded with books.
“He’s not my type, Stark. And I wouldn’t ever date a minor, even one as sweet as Peter.” You rolled your eyes.
“Oh yeah, also. I’m pretty sure there’s some tension between you and your boyfriend so I’ll just warn you. He was at the front desk looking for you when I walked in, Sabrina” You grimaced, gathering up your belongings.
“Thanks, Tony. I really do appreciate it.” You slung your backpack over your shoulder and raised your hands to form a portal back to your room, sealing it shut behind yourself.
One: Don't pick up the phone You know he's only callin' 'cause he's drunk and alone Two: Don't let him in You'll have to kick him out again Three: Don't be his friend You know you're gonna wake up in his bed in the morning And if you're under him, you ain't gettin' over him
“You used magic in the library?” Wong asked, his expression disappointed as you walked into the room. You groaned, putting your workout bag on the ground.
“It was an emergency,” you muttered, grabbing a ponytail holder from your bag and securing your hair out of your way.
“I don’t think hiding from a friend is an emergency. And why am I not allowed to tell Strange that you’re practicing with me?”
“I don’t want him to think that I hate him and I’m avoiding him.”
“But you are apparently avoiding him.”
“I have like four papers to write and two exams to study for. Can we, I don’t know, actually get to practicing spellwork?” Wong rolled his eyes before he gestured for you to get into stance. You relaxed, squaring your shoulders before you moved into position.
I got new rules, I count 'em I got new rules, I count 'em I gotta tell them to myself I got new rules, I count 'em I gotta tell them to myself
Practice makes perfect I'm still tryna learn it by heart (I got new rules, I count 'em) Eat, sleep, and breathe it Rehearse and repeat it, 'cause I (I got new)
“Y/N, I know you said I have done nothing wrong but it definitely seems as if you are trying your hardest to avoid me. If that’s not the case, I apologize but I just,” Stephen sighed and you could feel your heart ache at the sound, “I miss you. So whenever, I don’t know, things calm down or you start to feel like yourself, I honestly don’t know what you’re going through but... I’ll be here. If you need anything. Maybe I’m not as patient a teacher as Wong but I promise I’ll work on it just...” he sighed again and you could almost hear him shaking his head at himself, “Get back to me when you can, alright?” You set your phone down on the grass beside your book.
“What am I going to do?” you whispered, your hand resting gently on your stomach.
“I don’t mean to intrude but... I’ve been sitting here for ten minutes and you’ve listened to that voicemail about...five times, no? Maybe you should just call him back? It is quite obvious that you miss him as much as he misses you. Or at the very least, I don’t think listening to the voicemail of a call you purposely avoided will help ease your pain.” You glanced over to see Wanda Maximoff studying you quietly, Loki laying next to her, flicking his fingers in boredom to draw green shapes in the air. “Sorry, I know we’ve never actually spoken to one another but it seems like your heart might actually be aching for this man.”
“It’s......complicated. I think I love this man and some stuff happened to make me realize I do actually seriously love him but I don’t think he feels the same way and I don’t want to get hurt,” you blurted out. Wanda smiled, gently.
“It already seems you are hurting. You might as well try and talk to him and find out if he returns your feelings before isolating yourself from him and causing both of you pain. You might also find it difficult to work together if you push him too far away.” You smiled.
“Thank you, Wanda. I definitely appreciate it. Maybe sometime we could practice fighting together? And maybe have Vision be referee or something,” you teased, causing Wanda’s fair skin to redden with color, a shy smile crossing her features. You picked your phone back up, typing up a quick text. Stephen, I’m sorry. Can you meet me at the library in ten minutes? I definitely think we need to talk.
“I will absolutely take you up on that, Y/N,” Wanda promised, smirking slightly.
One: Don't pick up the phone (yeah) You know he's only callin' 'cause he's drunk and alone (alone) Two: Don't let him in (uh-ooh) You'll have to kick him out again (again) Three: Don't be his friend You know you're gonna wake up in his bed in the morning And if you're under him, you ain't gettin' over him
You glanced at your watch again before turning towards the window to see the sky in shades of pink and purple as the sun set. You sighed, packing your things up before grabbing your phone. You dialed Carol’s number as you exited the library.
“Danvers.”
“Hey. I...” you started, your voice trailing off as you felt tears start welling in your eyes. “I don’t know what to do. I tried texting Stephen because I need to talk to him and I asked him to meet me and...” You tried to choke back a sob. “I think I’m pregnant. And he hates me and I don’t know what to do, I can’t do this on my own.”
“Whoa, hold up. You’re what?”
“I haven’t taken a test but I’m late and my stomach has been feeling weird and I don’t know what to do, Carol. What am I going to do? I can’t hide this from him. He’ll know,” you sobbed, covering your mouth with your hand to muffle your distress.
“You need to breathe. I’ll get a test for you and meet you back at your dorm, okay? I’ll wait with you. You don’t need to be alone right now, okay?” Carol replied, trying to soothe you. “Just portal back to your place and wait for me, okay?” Carol hung up and you tried to quiet your cries as you tried to calm down. After a few minutes, you were calm enough to form a portal to step through. You sealed it shut and laid on your bed, silent tears still streaming down your face. Ten minutes later, your door opened and Carol stepped in, a bag in her hand. “Oh honey,” she sighed as you silently took the bag and disappeared into your bathroom. Carol sat on the floor with you once you were done, both waiting impatiently. You glanced at the clock and sighed.
“Can you......can you check it?” you asked, your voice wavering. Carol nodded, squeezing your hand before she stood up. Carol laughed.
“Negative. It must just be the stress. You’re fine,” she replied, sitting back down to hug you. You laughed too, relaxing in your friend’s embrace. You froze again, tensing up.
“He still hates me though. What do I do?”
“Just sleep. You can worry about talking to him next time you see him. Just get some rest, Y/N/N, okay?” You nodded, slowly getting up to crawl into bed. You didn’t move as Carol threw the test away and left the room, locking the door on her way out.
I got new rules, I count 'em I got new rules, I count 'em (Whoa-ooh, whoa-ooh, whoa) I gotta tell them to myself I got new rules, I count 'em (Baby, you know I count 'em) I gotta tell them to myself
Don't let him in, don't let him in Don't, don't, don't, don't Don't be his friend, don't be his friend Don't, don't, don't, don't Don't let him in, don't let him in Don't, don't, don't, don't Don't be his friend, don't be his friend Don't, don't, don't, don't You're gettin' over him
You woke up the next morning to urgent knocks on your door and you rolled over to check the time. 8:15. Only one person you knew would be up and at your door that early. You threw the covers off, not bothering to change out of the clothes you fell asleep in or brush your hair or hide your puffy eyes. You opened the door, examining Stephen’s unkempt appearance. “I am so sorry I didn’t meet you yesterday. I had turned my phone off to study for my exam and I didn’t think you’d be texting me anytime soon.” You sighed, stepping aside to let him in the door. Stephen relaxed, moving into the room before he turned to face you again, his eyes locking on the puffy skin under your eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He started to reach out for you before he paused, holding his arms out awkwardly before he let his arms fall back to his sides before clearing his throat uncomfortably. “You said we needed to talk? Does that mean you’re done avoiding me?” You winced slightly.
“I’m sorry. I really didn’t want to hurt you, I’m just......I’m afraid and way out of my comfort zone. But I do need to tell you something. And it could absolutely ruin our friendship. I don’t want to lose you, Stephen,” you started, taking a deep breath.
“I think any chance of a normal friendship went out the window when I agreed to......helping you relieve stress,” Stephen pointed out, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms over his chest.
“Oh, wow, thanks for that. Never would have figured that out on my own. What would I do without you?” you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You sighed, looking away from Stephen.
“Just say it. You obviously have other places you would rather be so get on with it. It’s fine.” You opened your mouth to speak when he raised a hand. “You don’t even have to say it. Understood. We can go back to pretending nothing ever happened.” Your eyebrows furrowed together at the bitterness in his voice.
“Stephen, listen to me. I don’t want to go back to pretending like nothing happened. But I want......if we just go back to fucking and that’s all it is, a means to an end, then......I know I’m going to get hurt. What do you want?” Stephen blinked in surprise.
“You......you want more?” he asked, his mind racing to catch up.
“I do. But if you don’t want that, it will hurt. I’ll get hurt. I know I will—” Stephen smiled, stepping forward and pulling your face up to meet his, one trembling hand under your chin, pressing your lips together. After a minute, you both pulled away, your breathing both ragged.
“Does that answer your question, Y/N/N?” he murmured, his hand still gripping your chin lightly, your breath mingling together. You nodded, standing on your toes to kiss him again, wrapping your arms around his neck. Stephen smiled against your lips as your hand started playing with the hair at the base of his neck. After you broke apart for air, Stephen kissed your forehead, wrapping his arms around you.
“Wait, before...before anything else happens. I thought that I was...pregnant. I’m not, but I just...figured you should know.” He pulled away again to study your face before relaxing again.
“I care for you. More than you know.” You smiled, brushing a dark strand of hair off of Stephen’s forehead. “Can we please go back to practicing spellwork together? I miss my partner.” You laughed, nodding. Stephen smiled, kissing you soundly again.
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@mezzomercury
@angeleyesmalek
False God
A/N: “Oh wow, Ally, another songfic with a Taylor Swift song. You must think you’re so clever, don’t you?” The answer to that is: yes. Yes I do. Requested? Absolutely not. Random idea that just took hold and took on a life of its own? Absolutely. Will there be a part 2 of mostly fluff and showing an actual healthy relationship? Probably, if anyone even cares that much. Is this significantly shorter than most things I write considering that 75% of it is song lyrics? Absolutely. But OH WELL. Title obviously comes from the Taylor Swift song of the same name. Honestly, if you squint, this could sort of be the other half of The Archer that I just wrote complete with 80% more angst? (Marriage to Stephen before the accident, ups and downs of a rushed-into relationship, waltzing back into the loft after months at Kamar-Taj, finding yourself in his threadbare room.) As always, thanks @unknownauthor for listening to my rambling and stupid ideas and for reading everything for me, as usual, before I post it to make sure it’s at least good enough to post instantly because I need the validation.
Warnings: Smut-ish. Not the most descriptive thing ever as far as smut goes but it’s there. Swearing, absolutely. Showcasing an UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIP (seriously guys this is not like “ooooo look at this great relationship” because it’s not). Uh. I think that’s it this time. Absolutely no spoilers in this one.
Word Count: 1,141.
You know the drill. Likes= meh, okay, reblogs= “I would probably kill someone for this person” so please, please reblog the things you enjoy. I am begging you.
(Not my GIF)
We were crazy to think Crazy to think that this could work Remember how I said I'd die for you? We were stupid to jump In the ocean separating us Remember how I’d fly to you?
“I’m not sure I can do this anymore.”
“So what? You’re just gonna walk out?” Stephen’s voice is cutting, dripping with sarcasm and that same level of snark, his voice more bitter than you’ve ever heard from him. He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Stephen, why do we keep doing this? It’s just a fucking cycle where things are fine before we fight again and we just keep hurting each other.” Stephen stares at you, his body still tense before he deflates, like a balloon punctured with a needle. You let your guard down, observing him before he opens his arms and you know the storm has passed. At least for today. And as you lost yourself in a kiss, the feeling of his body pressed tight against yours, you can’t seem to recall what the fight was even about.
And I can't talk to you when you're like this Staring out the window like I’m not your favorite town I'm New York City I still do it for you, babe They all warned us about times like this They say the road gets hard and you get lost When you're led by blind faith, blind faith
You and Stephen sit in silence, your husband stares out the window, his stormy eyes fixing on a point somewhere in the distance. “We should have listened. They told us. We shouldn’t have rushed into this. They tried to warn us.” Stephen laughs, the sound humorless and hollow. The car is silent for a moment before you reach over, laying your hand on his thigh and finally those stormy eyes acknowledge you. Stephen looks at you like the city, like you’re naive and optimistic but ultimately shrouded in danger and heartbreak but then his lips are on yours in the back of this car with the divider up and you can’t bring yourself to care for now. You can feel all of him against you when he pulls you onto his lap, deepening the kiss, and some sort of feeling, of faith, probably far too blind and as optimistic as a child, settles in your chest.
But we might just get away with it Religion's in your lips Even if it's a false god We'd still worship We might just get away with it The altar is my hips Even if it's a false god We'd still worship this love We’d still worship this love We’d still worship this love
Stephen is all you can feel, his lips devouring yours and his body trapping yours against the wall. He hoists you up and you wrap your legs around him. You know Stephen is not much of a religious or spiritual man but the only religion you need is his lips against yours as he lowers you onto the bed. You reach down to slide your shirt off, tossing it to the side as he pulls his shirt off, and your mouth goes dry at the hunger in his eyes as his eyes rove over the newly exposed skin. You lay back on your elbows as he shed the rest of his clothes. You kicked off your pants and underwear and then his body is covering yours again. Your lips seek his out and the kiss is absolutely searing. He breaks the kiss and his lips start a path down your neck, to your collarbone. Your fingers tangle in his hair, his lips reaching your hipbone. His eyes flick up to meet yours before his lips are on you and, before long, his name is falling from your mouth like a prayer, a holy chant to whatever sacred deity might happen to hear. As you come down from it, this rapture, he raises himself to capture your lips again and the taste of you mingled with his breath is more of a religious experience than anything you’ve ever experienced.
I know heaven's a thing I go there when you touch me, honey Hell is when I fight with you But we can patch it up good Make confessions and we’re begging for forgiveness Got the wine for you
And you can't talk to me when I'm like this Daring you to leave me just so I can try and scare you You're the West Village You still do it for me, babe They all warned us about times like this They say the road gets hard and you get lost When you’re led by blind faith, blind faith
“This isn’t good for anyone, you know.” The words are said so casually one night, after another fight and another instance of a desperate make up session in your shared bed. Stephen lays beside you, his eyes fixating on the ceiling above and, for a moment, you think he’s going to just ignore the words spoken into the night.
“No, it’s not, is it?” His expression is serene and unbothered by the truth of the statements. After a moment, he rolls towards you and his lips attach to your neck and you can feel all of the words, the confessions of his wrongs, the begging for forgiveness, the apologies your husband is too proud to say aloud poured into worshiping you. And when you take him into your mouth later, his head thrown back as he lets himself buck into you until he’s sated, you hope he can feel all of your own unsaid words.
But we might just get away with it Religion's in your lips Even if it's a false god We'd still worship We might just get away with it The altar is my hips Even if it's a false god We'd still worship this love We'd still worship this love We'd still worship this love, ah
Still worship this love Even if it's a false god Even if it's a false god Still worship this love
Months. That’s how long it had been since your husband had gone missing only to return to your shared loft one evening as if nothing had ever happened. And now he’s back to worshiping you, this time on some threadbare bed in a bare room you assume must be in Nepal. But you know, you can feel that this Stephen is changed. This is not the Stephen that would pick fights when bored and hope that he could push you far enough, not the Stephen you married and, as he sheaths himself inside of you, your name whispered into the night like a chant, you think that maybe you can love this Stephen more. And that maybe, just maybe, things will be good. Things will be right this time.
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Enchanted (Doctor Strange x OC)
A/N: Do I think really anyone except Shay cares about my OCs? Absolutely not but!!! I love her so, not really worried about it. I had a lot of fun writing this actually! Pre-Doctor Strange movie. Sort of a prequel to my Juliet Taylor main-story that I still need to actually write oops. Very loosely based off of another Taylor Swift song (of the same name) because it’s me writing it so of course it has to be. As always, thanks to @unknownauthor for reading everything and letting me yell about how much I love both Juliet Taylor and Cassidy Cooper and encouraging me to make this an oc thing instead of a reader thing!
Warnings: Probably swearing, hints of adult content, casual mention of previous deaths/murder, also alcohol mention.
Word Count: 1,441
As usual, likes are alright but reblogs!!! Are!!! So unbelievably amazing!!!
(Not my GIFs)
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“Do you have to outshine me at every event you attend with me?” Juliet turned back to the reporter, a camera hanging around her neck.
“How else am I going to find a wealthy neurosurgeon to marry and buy me nice stuff?” Cassidy snorted, shaking her head.
“Ah, I see. What happened with that ex-Marine?”
“Oh, that’s a story for another time, my love. Not the most proper conversation for such a swanky event.” Cassidy laughed, lightly. “So why does the New York Bulletin care about…what the fuck even is this?”
“It’s a Neurological Society dinner, Jules, try and keep up. I don’t know, something about a ‘society’ page of something," Cassidy sighed with a shrug. She raised an eyebrow at something just over Juliet’s shoulder and Juliet turned to examine what her friend had caught sight of. She sighed when she spotted an older gentleman making a beeline for the pair, his cheeks flushed, probably from alcohol if Juliet’s suspicion was right. Cassidy slipped on a fake smile, brushing a curl behind her ear. Juliet wrapped her hands around the camera, hoping to hide her annoyance at this man she hadn’t even spoken to yet. Juliet examined the rotund man, his hair a wispy, thin, and graying tuft on his otherwise balding head.
“What a delight to have such lovely girls here tonight! Who do you two belong to?” the man bellowed, wrapping an arm around each woman. Cassidy laughed, the sound calm to anyone who didn’t know her as well as Juliet.
“Ourselves,” Juliet replied, her voice icy. Before the man could open his mouth to reply, a voice behind Juliet made him stop in his tracks.
“Doctor Morce, I hadn’t seen you yet. Come on, we’d best be getting to our seats before they start without us. We wouldn’t want that now, would we?” Juliet turned, her eyes locking on the newcomer’s eyes, his eyes stormy and gray. Juliet could detect just the slightest hint of tension in his smile as he feigned friendliness towards the older gentleman.
“Doctor Strange! What an honor to see you again, my boy! Where’s that lovely girl of yours, what’s her name again?” Juliet noticed Doctor Strange stiffen just slightly at the question.
“Doctor Palmer couldn’t make it tonight but she sends her sincerest regards, I assure you. Let’s be off now and leave these ladies to their work. They have a very busy night ahead of them, I’m sure.” Juliet relaxed as the man, his hair jet black except for the silver beginning at his temples, started ushering the portly Doctor Morce away.
The younger man, Doctor Strange, glanced back once they were a safe distance away and Juliet mouthed a quick “thank you.” Strange winked at her before taking his seat at the table, Morce moving farther down the table to his spot. Juliet wrapped an arm around Cassidy to try and still her best friend’s slight shaking. “You alright?” Cassidy seemed to snap out of it after a moment and gave Juliet a bright smile, tinged with regret. “Remind me to chew out Ellison when I see him next.” Cassidy sighed.
“I have to do shit like this to be able to write the things that actually matter. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”
“Yeah, made that mistake before. So now I’m gonna spend my entire life worrying about you until Murdock gets his head out of his ass and comes crawling back to you.” Cassidy rolled her eyes, glancing back at the table.
“That doctor was very handsome.”
“Morce? Nah, not my type.”
“Why on earth would I be talking about him? I’m talking about the young one. Doctor Strange.”
“I don’t know, it feels like something’s missing. Maybe it’s facial hair?”
“What? You usually don’t care about that.”
“I know! But I think facial hair would look good on him. He sort of reminds me of…an otter, maybe?” Cassidy laughed, shaking her head.
“Regardless, it would seem he can’t take his eyes off of you,” Cassidy murmured, gently nudging Juliet’s shoulder. Juliet glanced over to find his eyes trained on her and she raised an eyebrow, smiling coyly.
“How old do you think he is?”
“Enough.”
“Maybe he’s just prematurely graying? Besides, the gray is kinda doing it for me. Like a silver fox.”
“I’m gonna say that’s just your daddy issues in play.”
“I mean, if anyone would have issues with father figures, or lack-thereof, it would probably be me. I think that’s a fair reason.”
“You mean your father getting far too drunk and killing your mother? Yeah, definitely valid.” The corner of Juliet’s lip turned up into a half-smile, her eyes still focused on Strange. He only broke eye contact when the man to his left leaned over to ask him a question.
“But did you see the way he reacted when Doctor Portly brought up his lady-friend? I’m gonna assume that’s a recent falling out and that’s way too messy for what I want.”
“You’re still enchanted by him. I know that look on your face. It’s actually the one you reserve solely for Chris Pine.”
“Ah, Chris Pine. Now that’s a fine man. And what if I am enchanted by some enigmatic stranger who saved us from dealing with some creepy old man with a little too much liquor in his system? That at least earns him a little gratitude.”
“I know exactly what kind of gratitude you would like to show him and I kindly ask that you do it on your own time. The only reason I invited you because I feel sorry for you. Like, really? ‘Woman finds Theodore Roosevelt on apple seed’? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. You’re a good writer, Juliet. Why waste your time there?”
“Because not everyone has connections like you do, Cass. I have nothing, just a couple of probably, most likely dead parents who were nobodies and whatever money I can scrape by writing shitty articles like that. I want to get my place somewhere based on my writing, not based on the fact that my best friend is ‘an heiress with parents taken tragically too young, a former bright spot within the Manhattan socialite’s club.’ And so far, this is about as much as I can get.”
“Regardless, your talent means you deserve better. And you’re missing the main point of this. I don’t want to get kicked out and cause a scandal because you decided the best way to show that ‘enigmatic stranger’ your gratitude ends with you on your knees in some secluded hallway.” Juliet laughed.
“Do you really have so little faith in me, Cassidy? You think I’d actually get caught?”
“Juliet. I’m serious.”
“So am I. But if it makes you feel any better, cross my heart and hope to die. I promise I absolutely will not get caught on my knees at this swanky event for a bunch of egotistical neurosurgeons who believe they’re god or whatever.”
“I’m still not convinced that you won’t but if you ruin that new dress, I will never speak to you again.” Juliet snorted.
“Yeah, good luck with that. You’d be bored out of your mind without me.”
“Who are you here for?” Juliet turned back at the voice, the same low voice that saved them before.
“I’m Cassidy Cooper, reporting for the New York Bulletin. Doctor Strange, was it?” Cassidy stuck an arm out to shake his hand. Strange smiled, taking Cassidy’s hand in a light shake.
“Yes. I’m Doctor Stephen Strange. I'm a neurosurgeon at Metro-General.”
“Really? A neurosurgeon at a Neurosurgeon Society dinner? I thought you would be a podiatrist.” Cassidy elbowed Juliet and Juliet grinned. Stephen’s eyes flashed over to her and the faintest trace of a smirk appeared on his lips.
“Superb deduction, Sherlock.”
“Well obviously, Watson.” Stephen grinned and Juliet held out her hand. “Juliet Taylor.”
“Charmed, I’m sure,” Stephen replied, taking her hand. Stephen released her hand after a moment as a man came up behind him and clasped him on the shoulder.
“You’re on, Doctor Strange.” Stephen nodded, giving the man a smile.
“If you’ll excuse me, ladies. I hope you enjoy the remainder of your evening.”
“You, too, Doctor,” Cassidy replied with a soft smile. Juliet smiled, raising an eyebrow at Stephen as he glanced back at her.
“See you around. Doctor.” Stephen smirked slightly before nodding. He turned on his heel and Juliet grinned.
“You’re honestly ridiculous, you know that right?” Juliet shrugged, raising an eyebrow at her best friend.
“Doesn’t matter. It won’t be the last time I see him.”
———————————
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@angeleyesmalek
@mezzomercury
Before Happily Ever After
A/N: I’m currently in the middle of making my husband play Until Dawn (as Certified Rami Malek Trash ™️) and Josh owns my entire heart and (without spoilers) that boy deserves some goddamn happiness. Shout out, once again, to my darling best friend @fahrenheit39 for her constant support and not murdering me for having her look over my her constant rewrites and near-panic over if it’s any good or not.
Also, depending on how good the response is......dare I say there might be more chapters?
Warnings: Major swearing. Slight angst but mostly fluffy.
Part 2
“Jesus Christ, Josh. Are you sure we should go in there?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at the boy next to you. You’d been best friends with Josh since kindergarten practically.
“Aw, come on, babe, it can’t be that bad. What’s the worst that could happen, Y/N?” Josh asked, grinning back. You regarded him warily as he started towards the building looming in front of you.
“I swear, Josh, if this is some sort of prank, I’m never speaking to you again. It’s a sanitarium for fuck’s sake!” you called over to him.
“You can stay out here if you want to, babe. But you’ll be out here all alone,” he called back, turning to give you a grin as he continued towards the building.
“Fuck you, Washington! I cannot believe I let you talk me into this shit. Would you at least wait for me, dickhead?” Josh stopped, holding his arms up.
“Anything you say, princess.” You huffed in annoyance as you jogged over to where he waited. “Well?”
“Well what?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him again.
“Well, lead the way, princess,” Josh replied, smirking.
“What, so you can disappear on me? Absolutely not. You go first.” Josh chuckled, shaking his head. He started forward again, the two of you walking in silence. He reached the door and opened it, stepping inside. You took a deep breath before following him, your breath catching in your chest. “Jesus Christ,” you breathed, taking in the destroyed surroundings. Josh let out a low whistle as he started forwards again.
“Would you look at this shit, Y/N?” Your eyes scanned the room, landing on a sign hanging above a door frame.
“There’s a chapel?” you asked, starting hesitantly towards the cracked door. You paused, reaching out to take Josh’s hand, pulling him with you. Josh laughed.
“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little abandoned building.”
“First off, this building is huge. Not little by any means. And second, who wouldn’t feel at least slightly less concerned of anything that could be lurking here with a six foot tall macho man with you?” you replied, still tugging him along.
“I’m coming, babe, you don’t need to pull me with you,” Josh teased, a grin on his face. As you two reached the door, you were reaching to pull the door open when an inhuman screech echoed through the empty halls. You screamed, running back to the door, Josh stumbling after you, laughter tumbling from his lips as you raced back to the cabin. Once you were sure you were far enough away, you screamed again.
“Josh! What the actual fuck! Did you just get us into!” you exclaimed, punching his arm lightly between every pause. Josh doubled over in laughter, shaking his head.
“What the fuck was that? What’s fucking in there? Oh my god, that was hilarious,” he wheezed, leaning against you as you relaxed.
“Was that some fucking prank, you prick?!” you asked, finally starting to catch your breath.
“Princess, I promise you I have no fucking clue what that was. I honestly didn’t think anything would be in there but shit. That was a rush,” he paused, grinning at you again, “Let’s go back!”
“No! No way! I absolutely, positively REFUSE! No way in hell are you ever dragging me back to that horror show!! God, let’s just get back to the cabin before whatever that was finds us. What kind of animal makes that noise?” You shuddered as you started walking again.
“I will never forget that noise. That was like the greatest thing ever. Nothing could ever ruin this night,” Josh exclaimed, whooping into the silence of the night surrounding you two.
“You’re ridiculous! How are you not horrified by that? That could have been anything, Josh! God, it’s like you get off on this shit.”
“What do you mean? Adrenaline doesn’t get you going, angel?” he lightly taunted you, coming closer to wrap an arm teasingly around your waist. You pushed him off, your cheeks flushed. He chuckled as the two of you walked in silence. Once the cabin was in sight, you relaxed, sprinting to the cabin. Josh laughed, easily catching up to you. You shrieked as he picked you up, spinning you around.
“Joshua Washington, put me down right now!” you squealed as he threw you over his shoulder.
“Nope, gotta make sure you make it safely inside and no monsters getcha. Wouldn’t want a pretty thing like your face to be fucked up,” Josh teased, swatting your ass playfully. You were glad he couldn’t see your face as you felt it heat up, your entire face turning red at the attention from your best friend. As you reached the stairs of the cabin he set you down, giving you a wink as he held the door open for you. As you stepped into the house, you turned your head back to say something to Josh when something solid ran directly into you, knocking you back into Josh, who steadied you. You turned around to find Hannah clinging to you, tears streaming down her face.
“Hannah? Hannah, honey, what’s wrong? What happened? Is everyone okay?” you asked, smoothing her hair back as she cried. You lifted her glasses up to wipe her tears away, worry on your face as you soothed her.
“What did you sick fucks do to my sister?!” Beth yelled as Mike, Jessica, Emily, and Matt ran into the room, grinning. Their grins immediately dropped at Beth’s anger and your icy glare.
“It—It was just a prank,” Matt muttered, at least having the decency to look down, ashamed.
“Aw come on, it was harmless!” Mike started, before you cut him off.
“What the actual fuck did you guys do?” you hissed, passing Hannah to Josh, who wrapped his arms protectively around his sister, pulling her away to sit her on the couch.
“I’m guessing you’re the ones who wrote this stupid letter to her from Mike to make her think he was interested in her because you knew she had a crush on him?” Beth spat, crossing her arms over her chest.
“You did what?? Get the actual fuck out. I don’t care how you do it, I don’t care how late it is, get your shit and get out. Go ANYWHERE else. I cannot fucking believe you guys!” you yelled, gesturing towards the door.
“But it’s cold!” Emily objected, her eyes wide.
“Maybe you can use your daddy’s money to buy a functional coat. And while you’re at it, buy a fucking heart, too! But get out.” Sam came into the room, looking confused. You started to glare at her and then noticed her wet hair. You relaxed, rolling your eyes at her and she raised an eyebrow. Josh watched you from the couch with Hannah as you defended his sister and he felt his heart swell with an unmistakable feeling.
“Guy, come on, we deserve this,” Matt began, turning towards Hannah, “Han, I am so sorry for how awful we were. You don’t deserve this and we deserve to be banished. We really fucked up.”
“You guys can wait until the morning to leave,” Hannah sniffled, lifting her head off of Josh’s shoulder.
“Even with how you pricks treat her, she still shows you kindness,” Beth muttered, glaring at them. You sighed.
“I don’t want to fucking see any of you between now and the next time I happen to run into you back in the real world. Get the fuck out of my face,” you sighed, rubbing your hand over your eyes. All four scattered, Matt lingering with a guilty and remorseful look at Hannah before he was gone too. You collapsed against the door frame, still seething with rage. You looked back over to the couch, the anger leaving your body in a rush.
“Y/N. You,” Josh began, shaking his head. Beth made her way over to her twin, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. Josh stood up suddenly, crossing the room to you in five long strides before he pulled you close, his lips centimeters away from yours. “If you want me to stop, tell me,” he whispered, giving you a moment to object before pressing his lips passionately to yours. After he pulled away, he smiled down at you. “You’re fucking incredible, you know that? God, I love you.” You blinked a few times at the sudden revelation before you smiled, tangling a hand in his brown curls, pulling him back down to you.
“What the fuck did I miss?” Sam asked, her eyes wide as she looked over to Hannah and Beth. Beth shook her head fondly at her brother, glancing over at Hannah who was watching the scene with a soft smile.
————————————————————
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@killerqueenofthenight
Period Troubles
A/N: My first hc type thing with Platonic!Freddie (mostly written for @killerqueenofthenight after she said “I would also like to see a platonic Freddie [period comfort fic], just being his sweet and caring self” and I decided I just had to write it sooo thanks for the idea!!) Again, thank you to @fahrenheit39 for always looking over everything I write because I tend to panic about how good it is!!
Again, likes are appreciated but reblogs are even more so guys. If you like it, please reblog it.
When Freddie calls Brian to ask where everyone is meeting up and Brian mentions you won’t make it, Freddie is immediately worried. It’s unlike you to ever cancel plans with the boys.
You groan as your phone rings, stretching out of the ball you’d just been rolled into to get the phone.
“Darling, are you alright? What’s the matter?”
You assure Freddie it’s nothing major, you just don’t feel well.
Freddie is silent for a moment before he sighs.
You say your goodbyes, promising to make it up to him later before curling back into a ball and wishing the pain away.
As you lay, dozing off, you hear a key in the door to your flat, sitting up in confusion, still wrapped tightly in your blankets.
Freddie peeks his head in the room, holding armfuls of bags, worry clear on his face.
“Thought you might could use a friend, sweetheart. And some medicine and chocolate and such, you know.”
You start to tear up at the gesture, your hormones all over the place.
“Come now, darling, don’t get all weepy on me now. I’m here to make you feel better, not make you cry!”
You laugh, trying to wipe away the stray tears that fell as you reach for one of the bags, taking a bit of chocolate.
Freddie disappears for a moment, coming back with two spoons and a glass of water, handing you a carton of your favorite ice cream to share as he puts on your favorite cheesy feel-good movie, setting the water down on your bedside table with a bottle of medicine.
He comes back to your bed, laying so his head is propped up against the headboard to see the screen.
He hands you the water and some medicine, which you gratefully take.
You scoot closer to rest your head on his chest, smiling as he starts gently stroking your hair.
With the heat from Freddie’s body underneath you and the medicine starting to kick in, you feel yourself start to drift off.
You wake up later to find night has settled and Freddie is fast asleep beneath you, the covers pulled up to cover the both of you and one of his hands resting gently on your head.
“Thank you, Freddie. For everything,” you whisper into the darkness, settling back on your best friend’s chest.
You drift back off to sleep with a smile on your face, your pain and discomfort long forgotten at the comfort your best friend provided.