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vickiee-mcmuffin · 1 month ago

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Just this once

Word count: 3.9k

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Female Reader

Trope: Explicit smut, Age gap, Oral (M receiving) (18+ Warning, Minors DNI)

Summary: You accidentally walk in on Stephen trying to pleasure himself. You see he's struggling because of his hands, so you decide to help him out.

A/N: I think I've seen this idea before, but I hope you like my attempt at this. This fic is just pure smut. Plot? What plot… 😅

It wasn’t your first time in the New York Sanctum, but it was the first time you had ever seen Stephen Strange with his hands all over himself. You had been trying to talk to Stephen about something innocent: about a spell you needed some help with since Wong and the other masters were so busy, and that was when you had heard the deep sounds of his grunts and groans coming from his room. You entered, thinking that he might have been in pain or in trouble, but that was when you found him naked, completely and totally bare with his cock out.

That was why you were staring at him, eyes wide as you stood there in his doorway, his cock looking painfully hard, the tip all red and swollen. He grabbed at the closest blanket, pulling it over his lap as he glared at you.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, don’t you know how to fucking knock?” he snapped at you.

You scoffed, raising an eyebrow up at him. “Um, excuse me, but I thought you might have been in pain or something since that was what it sounded like. I didn’t expect to see you struggling to get off when I walked in.”

Stephen rolled his eyes. “Well, I can’t do it because of my stupid hands, okay?”

“Oh.” Guilt hit you when he said that. You didn’t know his hands stopped him from doing that. Your foot tapped against the floor for a moment, wondering if you could be the one to help him. “Well, maybe… Maybe I could help you?”

“What?” Stephen asked, eyes wide.

“I’ll be happy to help you out.”

The two of you got into fights all the time. You mostly argued about stupid, silly things, but that didn’t mean you wanted to see him so frustrated.

Stephen gave you a little smile. “You know, this won’t get you extra help during your training sessions.”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m trying to offer you help here. You want it or not?”

“Alright, fine. But just this once, okay? We shouldn’t even really be doing this. We shouldn’t even be talking about it.”

“Right. Just this once.”

You joined him on the bed, kneeling next to him and pulling off the blanket, revealing his thick, long cock. He was big. Bigger than you imagined, and you had done so a few times. The tip was all swollen and red as you spat on your hand, reaching down to wrap your fingers around him. Giving him a squeeze, you moved your hand up and down, rubbing your thumb across his pre-cum soaked tip whenever you got close. He was throbbing in your hand, his moans deep and low, and you couldn’t help but think about how damn beautiful those sounds were. It just made you want to keep going, to keep working his cock so he made more of those sounds.

The noises were getting to you, your thighs pressing together as you felt yourself growing wet. His groans got louder, more intense, and he kept muttering out how he wanted you to keep going, how he didn’t want you to stop.

It was hard to focus on his pleasure and not yours. This was about him, not you. So you kept playing with his cock, moving your hand along his big, slick length.

But you stopped after a few more pumps of his cock, and Stephen just stared at you as you sat there taking in his eyes, thinking for a short moment. Then you sent him a small smile before moving your face down to his length, your lips hovering just above his leaking tip.

“What are you... Oh fuck, sweetheart!” Stephen groaned loudly when you ran your tongue along his cock, starting from the base and making your way to his swollen tip.

Wrapping your lips around the head of his cock, you began to suck at him before swallowing every inch of him. His cock was stuffed right into your mouth, his length throbbing in between your lips. You began to bob your head up and down, keeping your lips wrapped around Stephen’s cock nice and tight. Stephen grunted as you moved faster, forcing you to gag on his cock. His hands were in your hair, pulling at the strands before he guided you along his length. You lowered a gentle hand, rubbing at his balls and forcing a deep groan from Stephen’s lips.

It didn’t take long for you to feel Stephen suddenly tense up. You wondered for a second if he was close, and you were happy to stay there with your lips wrapped around him so he could chase that release he so desperately needed.

“God, I need to be inside you,” Stephen suddenly grumbled out.

That made you halt right then and there. Stephen’s eyes slowly opened up, all hazy looking as he looked down at you. Then his eyes widened.

“I… Wait, fuck. I didn’t mean to say that,” he whispered.

But that wasn’t enough to convince you. You pulled your lips off him with a wet pop before you opened your mouth to speak. “Well, I don’t mind…”

“You don’t mind what?”

“I don’t mind having you inside me if it helps. I did offer to help you out, after all.”

Stephen’s face was all bright red as he took in a deep, long breath. “Only if you really want to.”

You nodded, and then Stephen laid down against the bed while you pulled off your pants and underwear. You were absolutely soaked after stroking and sucking his cock, and all those sounds had definitely gotten to you. Pressing your hands to his chest, you straddled him, your pussy hovering right over his cock.

“Will you promise not to tell anyone at Kamar Taj what we did today?” you asked as you looked into his eyes.

He nodded. “Yes. Do you promise not to tell anyone? You’re a student and I’m your master. We’re not supposed to be doing anything like this. I’m so much older than you, too.”

“I can keep a secret,” you whispered. “Don’t worry.” With that, you lifted yourself up that tiny bit, moving so that the head of his cock brushed up against your slick entrance before you sunk down on to his length. You were immediately met with the feeling of his tip stretching you out. He was so big. So big and thick. You sunk down some more, letting him fill you up as his hands landed on your hips.

The feeling made you bite your lip, trying to keep your moans to yourself. This was about him. His pleasure, his satisfaction. Not you. And you were only trying to help him cum. This wasn’t sex. This was just you lending him a helping hand.

Hands there on his chest, you began to move. Up and down, up and down. You were moving slowly, trying to get used to his size filling you up and stretching you out. He was so big, his length fitting inside of you perfectly as you began to bounce right there on his cock. You were rocking your hips while Stephen grunted and groaned below you, his eyes all darkened. Stephen grasped your hips tight as you still bit into your bottom lip, trying to keep every moan and whine to yourself. That wasn’t just because this was about him. No. It was because he just felt so good buried deep inside of you, and you didn’t need his already inflated ego to grow even bigger.

It took everything in you too keep every sound of pleasure to yourself, but you could still feel your orgasm growing. It was blooming by the second as you rode his cock, that feeling hot and heavy as you moved up and down his length, and then his swollen tip pressed up against that sweet spot deep inside you and you found yourself losing control right then and there.

“Stephen!” you cried out, body shaking from top to bottom as you rode him so desperately. You could feel yourself squeezing at his cock as waves of pleasure hit you, and then the sound of Stephen’s groans hit your ears. Gasping, you stopped moving, realising what you had just done. “Oh, shit…” Looking down with blushing cheeks, you saw Stephen staring up at you with a smirk.

“Did you just cum on my cock?” he said.

Lips pressing together, you felt your cheeks burning brightly.

“Why do I get the feeling that you were secretly enjoying this?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly, a teasing tone to his words.

“I… I…”

Stephen chuckled at that, his eyes lighting up. “I could feel how wet you were when I was inside you. You were probably getting off on all those sounds I was making, huh? I bet you were loving them.”

“I’m sorry,” you finally managed to say. Your face felt so hot as he looked at you. Your whole body felt like it was burning, his gaze all dark.

Stephen looked at you for a long, lingering moment, looking like he was deep in thought, like he was trying to figure out what to say next. Slowly, he sat up. “Look, I’m going to ask you this, because I need to know: do you want to continue, or do you want to stop now and never speak of this again?”

You watched him closely, his lips about to part to say something else, but you cut him off with a soft, pleading, “fuck me.”

Laughing lowly, Stephen slammed his lips to yours, his tongue pushing into your mouth as he kissed at you deep and fast and hard. Hunger took over as you kissed him back, his hands pulling off your shirt and then your bra, your breasts suddenly on show for him. Large hands landed on them, giving them a squeeze as he groaned. Your hardened nipples pressed into the palms of his hands as he held you tight.

“Such perfect tits,” he muttered. “I’m going to give you exactly what I know you’ve been fantasising about for months,” he said, voice deep and confident.

Gasping, you kept your eyes locked with his. “How do you seem to know that I think about you in private?”

“Well, you aren’t exactly subtle. You can act like a brat around me all you want, but I’ve definitely caught you eye fucking me on daily basis.”

“… Oh.” Had you been that obvious? Apparently so. Whoops. You wondered if anyone had noticed.

Stephen suddenly moved, flipping you around and getting you settled on your hands and knees. But then his fingers found your hair, massaging at your scalp as he pushed you into his pillows, the material all soft against your face as he had you arching your back with your ass high up in the air. The position felt so filthy. He could see every last bit of you, the bits he wasn’t supposed to be seeing. Your cheeks still felt all red and burning as you knew his eyes were running up and down your body.

You could hear shuffling behind you, and then you felt a big, heavy hand on your hip followed by the wonderful sensation of his swollen tip running up and down your slit. A whine left your lips, pure frustration taking over as he teased you. The head of his cock felt so big against you. You were aching to just feel him push himself inside of you already.

“I want to hear how good I make you feel,” Stephen muttered.

You nodded into the pillows. “Just fuck me already.”

“You’re needy.”

But that was when you felt his swollen head slip into you, filling you up slowly, the both of you moaning out at the same time. Stephen grabbed your hips and began to pump in and out of you. He was so big and you could feel every inch of him stretching you out, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he fucked you.

“You feel so fucking good,” he muttered from behind you. “You’re such a dirty girl for letting me do this to you. You know I shouldn’t be touching you like this, but here you are, letting me fill you up with every inch of my cock. You just can’t help yourself, right?”

“Yes,” you whined out, the sound muffled from the pillows pressed to your face. “Your cock feels so good. Mm, you’re so big. God, you’re so big.”

“Yeah, you like it, don’t you?”

“Mm, yes!”

“You’re a dirty fucking girl for letting me touch you. I’m so much older than you, but you don’t care about that. You’re still letting me fuck you. You’re letting your teacher fuck you like this and you fucking love it.”

“I can’t help it,” you whined out, voice sounding utterly desperate.

Stephen kept pounding into you, his thick length taking you exactly where you needed to go. Pure, hot pleasure kept hitting you in waves, your fingers clawing at the sheets below you.

“Mm, Stephen!” you called out. “Please don’t stop! Please, please, please don’t stop.”

“You’re such a good girl,” he murmured. “You’re taking every inch of me. Look at your little pussy, it’s completely filled up with my cock. What a good girl.”

He slid into your slick, tight pussy with ease, his balls slapping up against you, that filthy sound of skin hitting skin in the air as he pounded into you. You were getting closer and closer, your orgasm right around the corner as you squeezed your eyes shut tightly.

“So close,” you whimpered. Your voice was wavering and you just needed to cum already, needed to feel that heap of pleasure take over your body. Your pussy was aching, begging to cum as Stephen fucked you harder and faster, his perfect cock filling you up to the hilt so that you were forced to feel every last inch of him.

It was with one more deep, long, hard thrust that you felt your eyes rolling into the back of your head. A sharp, barely there gasp escaped your lips, yours fingers clenching at the pillows below you so tight you were certain you’d rip a hole right through them.

“Stephen!” you cried out. You could feel your pussy gushing around him, your slit all wet and sticky as Stephen kept fucking you. He was dragging your orgasm out, making it last for what felt like a minute straight as he took you hard and fast and deep. You kept chanting out his name, your ears ringing and your body hot and your pussy absolutely soaking wet as he fucked you. You had never felt so full and stretched out in your life. Stephen felt like heaven, like your body was on fire in the best way possible. He was so big and thick as he pushed in and out of you, letting you ride out your orgasm right there on his perfect cock.

“Good girl,” he said with a deep chuckle. “Just like that. Cum on my cock, just like that. I bet that feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? It feels so good to fucking cum on my cock. Your teacher’s cock.”

It was hard to string a proper sentence together. Moans and whines kept escaping your lips, your toes curling as your orgasm took over your whole body. You kept whimpering out his name, your whole body shaking as he carried on pumping you full of cock.

But then Stephen suddenly pulled his length out of you and you quickly whined, instantly missing the feeling of him inside of you. Stephen let out a low chuckle at that.

“Miss me already, huh?” he asked, voice deep and cocky. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you want in a second, sweetheart.”

Stephen grabbed at you, moving you so that you were laying down on your side. He then got settled on his side behind you before he pulled you to him, so that your back was up against his broad chest. He moved your leg and hooked it over his hip, spreading your legs for him.

He held his cock in one hand, pressing the tip to your pussy before he slid back into you with ease, the both of you moaning in unison. He used his other arm to wrap it tight around your chest. You were flush against him as his hand held one of your breasts tight. Then he kissed you, and you moaned into his mouth as you kissed him back deeply.

Stephen wasted no time fucking you good. He fucked you harder and faster and it had you letting out a rather shrill and loud moan. It felt so good to have him stretching you out as he filled you up with his big, hard cock. You couldn’t help but moan.

You felt Stephen’s lips on you again suddenly, closing the gap as he kissed you, your tongues dancing together. You moaned against his soft lips when the tip of his swollen cock met that sweet, sensitive spot so deep inside of you again.

“Does that feel good?” Stephen mumbled against your lips. “Is this what you wanted from me, sweetheart? Wanted me to take care of you?”

All you could do was give him a little nod before Stephen kissed you again. He then began to pump his length into you even faster. His cock pushed into you so deep as he slammed into you. Each and every thrust of his cock had you crying out his name. He kept going, your pussy dripping wet with your juices.

“Fuck, Stephen. Please don’t stop!” you begged. “Please keep fucking me!”

Stephen did just that. He kept pushing his cock into you, fucking you with every last bit of energy he seemed to have. He was moving so quickly that you could barely believe it. You were being so loud. Stephen had you crying out for him with every pump of his cock. He was taking you deep and hard and fast, stretching you out in the best way.

Every thrust he gave you had you getting closer and closer to yet another orgasm. You were so close. The feeling was growing, your wet pussy getting even wetter.

“You… You’re gonna make me cum again,” you let Stephen know.

“Cum on my cock for me. Cum on my cock like a good girl,” he hissed.

All you could feel was his thick cock pushing into you, your little hole taking him so well. And then all it took were a few more deep thrusts from Stephen for you to meet your orgasm.

“Oh, Stephen!” you screamed out, letting the pleasure take over. The wetness between your thighs growing. It felt like you were gushing right then and there, like something was pouring right out of you and all over Stephen’s cock. You just screamed at the feeling, all the while Stephen fucked you right through the delicious sensation.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as a new sensation hit you. You were shaking, your orgasm so much stronger than the others. It felt different, though. Very different. Your whole body felt warm, your pussy so soaked. How was it that Stephen was making you feel so good? How did he have all of that energy to take you so good and hard? It didn’t even matter, because all you could do was lay there and cry out as Stephen fucked you, making you feel better than you had ever felt before.

The wetness between your legs soon slowed down as you focused on your breathing. Stephen pumped his cock into you just three more times before his moans were turning into deep grunts, his thrusts going from fast and wild to slow and deep, and you had a feeling he was close.

“Fuck,” he muttered from behind you, pushing into you with an eager thrust, filling you right up to the hilt. “So fucking close, sweetheart. Christ, you ready to feel me cum inside you?”

You moaned, his cock pushing in and out of you, his balls pressed right up against your bare pussy until he was groaning wildly from behind you, his arm wrapped around you tightly, holding you in place as he just fucked you and took you and made you all his. It was filthy. It was raw. And you were loving every last second of it.

A second later, you could feel it. He was shooting out thick, heavy loads deep inside of you, your inner walls suddenly painted with the sticky drops of cum. You gasped, the feeling making you sigh in relief.

“That’s it,” Stephen said with a moan, his arm still holding you tight. “God, Y/N, that’s it. Take it. Just like that. Fuck, I bet you’ve wanted me to cum inside that pussy for so fucking long. You’re such a good girl just fucking taking it. You’re taking every single inch of me.”

You were panting as he slowly pulled out of you, his cock still hard as he pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder. His breaths were deep and heavy and you heard him get off the bed behind you, then the sound of water in the distance hit your ears. You laid there, trying to get your breathing back in control. What turned into a simple favour for Stephen had turned into something completely different. You almost couldn’t believe what the two of you had just done.

You were pulled from your thoughts when you felt something soft and warm pressing up against you. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Stephen running a cloth along your slit, cleaning you up with a gentle hand.

After ridding himself of the cloth, he joined you in bed, laying down next to you while you both kept your lips firmly pressed together. There was nothing but silence between the two of you until Stephen broke it.

“What we did,” he said. “It… It shouldn’t have happened.”

Turning to look at him, you offered him a curt nod. “I know. But no one will know if we both keep our mouths shut.”

“Well, I won’t be mentioning it to anyone.”

Nodding, you slowly sat up. “I should get back to Kamar Taj. I was only supposed to be here for a couple minutes…”

“Yeah, okay,” mumbled Stephen.

You got up to put your clothes back on, moving a little gingerly thanks to how tired you were. Stephen had taken you so hard that even your legs felt a little wobbly, but you managed to get all your clothes back on, and after patting down your hair, you hoped no one would be able to guess what you and Stephen had just been up to. Turning towards the door, you heard Stephen call out your name, and you spun around to meet his eyes.

“Thanks for helping me out,” he said, sending you a wink.

A tiny smile stretched across your face. “Bye, Stephen.”

With that, you turned back around so you could leave for Kamar Taj. You wondered if anyone had noticed that you were missing. You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d be able to keep your word—Stephen too. You were curious if it’d be just a one-time thing, or if maybe the two of you would get all tangled up in each other once more. It had certainly been fun, and deep down, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to say no to Stephen if he made you the offer. You also knew that Stephen wouldn’t exactly say no either.

Only time would tell what would happen next.

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fandomnerd9602 · 8 months ago

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Scarlet Delivery

a Scarlet Webs story

Wanda Maximoff x Spider-Man!Reader

Wanda was hyperventilating. Her cell phone was buzzing just waiting for you to pick it up.

“Hello?” You manage to answer.

“Detka, where are you?!” She managed to say in between her hyperventilating breaths.

“Currently…rush hour” you said sticking to the front of a police car. The perp was Mac Gargan. “You shouldn’t worry, baby. I’ll be there.”

“Promise?” Wanda said, tears streaming down her cheek.

“I promise.” A gunshot went off. You narrowly dodged a bullet, “gotta go. Hey! Can’t you see I was taking a phone call!?”

And with that you had to hang up and jump back into the fray. You hated having to do patrol without Wanda. But circumstances had changed the flow and now you were solo again. Nothing changes when you’re the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

Meanwhile, Wanda’s tears were still flowing as a portal opened behind her. And out of the portal comes this universe’s Doctor Stephen Strange.

“It’s time,” he says gesturing for your lovey witch to follow. She does so, all the while hoping that you’d keep your promise.

You land on the hood of Mac Gargan’s stolen vehicle. “License and registration, sir?”

Blam! Another shot goes off, you jump onto the roof of the car. A couple more shots ring out. You dodge each bullet flawlessly.

“Can we wrap this up?” You mockingly whine, “I have prior engagements!”

You web up Mac and yank him out the car, webbing him to a nearby streetlight. The car barrels towards a nearby crosswalk where a little old lady with a Walker is currently trying to cross.

“Of all the times!” You jump onto the hood and spray it with various webs before jumping onto the back and yanking the car back with all your might, bringing the car to a dead halt mere inches from the elderly lady.

You give a quick salute and swing off. You knew the location. You knew where Wanda was gonna be. It was all a piece of cake right?

Well then came the Vulture. He tries to slice at you once, twice. “Not now Toomes! I have some place to be.”

“Yes. The morgue!” He tries slicing at you again. You swing thru Times Square and web the winged foe in a giant spider web.

“Yo! Spidey!” A citizen calls out to you.

“Yeah?”

“Where’s your lady? The Witch?”

“I’m trying to get to her now!” You call out before swinging off again into the city. Why did it have to be on the other end of New York?

You land on a rooftop. You quickly web a couple silk lines to your suit, forming a makeshift pair of wings.

“I’m coming Wanda,” you shoot out two web lines and slingshot yourself across the city. Catching a wind current, you sail thru the open air of the city.

You see your destination: the Sanctum Sanctorum. You dive bomb and land right in front of the building. Wong quickly answers the door.

“How far?” You ask.

“You made it just in time.” He smiles and leads the way. You nearly run the way to the little room.

You run in to find Wanda in a relaxed position, still hyperventilating. Nine months pregnant and she still looked beautiful as ever. Dr Strange was readying his medical scrubs.

“Detka!” Wanda exclaims, tears of joy streaming down her face. You run up to her, kissing her gently.

“I promised I’d be here, right?” You ask with a little smirk. Wanda giggles and kisses you again.

“Okay Wanda,” Strange intones, “it’s time. Now push.”

“Sure you got this, Doc?” You ask.

“It’s not surgery. I’m just catching the babies. I won’t drop them.”

“Drop them and I will kill you” Wanda say through gritted teeth.

“I believe you” Strange answers back. “Now focus and push.”

It ended up taking the rest of the day and into the night but Wanda delivered two healthy baby boys. You and her were so excited.

“My boys,” Wanda said with fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. “Billy. Tommy.”

“They’re amazing,” you kiss the top of Wanda’s head, “thank you baby.”

“Thank you. I love them so much already,” Wanda let out a little tired laugh. She actually had her boys in her arms. This wasn’t some conjured up version of them. This wasn’t some other universe’s version of them. This was them, flesh and blood. She had a loving spouse, two handsome little babies, a nice little home in Queens.

Wanda finally had the life she always wanted. And best yet, she got to have it with you, her Spider Monkey.

Tags: @tokufighter @ma1egamer @jacelion @lifespectator @aloneodi @holiday-house-of-m @family-house-of-m @multi-fandom-enjoyer @iamnicodemus @rroyale-109 @scarletquake-n7 @moonpheus

#marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #scarlet webs #scarlet witch #the scarlet witch #wanda maximoff imagine #spider man #multiverse of madness

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astroboots · 1 year ago

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Every You Every Me Issue #3

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You are determined to meet your Spider-benefactor face to face and you go to ever increasing extreme lengths to do so. Problem is, Miguel O'hara is very uncooperative to your plans.

Word count: 5,500 words.

Content: Slowest of the burn, so slow you wonder if it's even burning. Near death experiences, the state of the economy and how expensive it is to live in a big city, the emotional whiplash of Miguel O'Hara.

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

[Previous issue] [Next Issue]

You saw them in the window display of a bakery in Greenwich Village. Round sugar cookies with red frosting and white eyes, decorated as a tribute to everyone's favorite neighborhood Spiderman.

Before you had time to properly think things over (would he even like the cookies? Is he on a strict superhero diet and workout plan? What if he's gluten intolerant?) you were already standing in front of the cash register having a dozen of them wrapped up in fancy crinkly paper and were $72 dollars poorer.

Charging six dollars per cookie is practically highway robbery, but that's par for the course with New York bakeries. You wouldn’t be surprised if every bakery in New York was already a part of Wilson Fisk’s criminal empire.

As you push open the door, box in hand, you wonder wryly to yourself why Spiderman’s ruder alter ego isn't there to save you from that.

You wonder, for Superheroes, what classifies as an event worth intervening in and what everyday citizens need to be saved from?

Financial ailment doesn't quite seem to qualify from what you've been able to glean so far.

Tony Stark, for all the wealth he’s amassed (a large enough treasure hoard that he would be capable of buying the whole planet of Mars according to Forbes) isn't massively involved with charities. He only donates to the one: his own. And the Stark Foundation is really just Tony Stark paying reparations for the damage he and his buddies caused in the first place.

Thor is an actual deity, and you still remember that write-up in Esquire magazine, where local waiters in New Mexico had called him a terrible tipper and a habitual smasher of glassware.

Assault and battery is up in the air. There are accounts of Superheroes intervening; that Tiktok videos of She-Hulk breaking up a bar fight that went viral a few weeks back. But then equally, there are memes of Doctor Strange peeking out the window of Sanctum Sanctorum watching a street fight unfold,, utterly uninterested in getting involved. The internet labeled it as "mood".

As for murder and mayhem, there's a longstanding public debate as to whether Superheroes cause more than they prevent. Case in point: that Moon Knight guy that paints the streets of London red.

There is no rule book written to explain how Superheroes decides who is worth saving and who is not.

Does one have to be important and have a material effect on the state of the world?

If so, you fall pitifully short. The most world-changing decision you made as of late was deciding to opt out of utensils on your last GrubHub order to help save the environment.

So it makes you wonder: Why on earth has this non-costume accurate Spiderman saved you, not once, not twice, but 13 times to date?

That’s just the first of many questions you’d like to ask him. What does he know that you don’t? Does he know why the universe seems to be out to get you lately? Or why death itself is following you everywhere you go, nipping at your heels?

You haven’t had the chance to ask him anything, because despite all of your encounters, you haven't met him face to face since that very first time.

Inconveniently, you don't exactly have a way of contacting him. Superheroes aren't listed in the phone book.

With no other way to reach out, you go at it the old fashioned way. You write him a note from a page you've ripped out of your notebook:

‘Thank you for saving me. Can we meet? I have questions.’

You place the note on the window sill. Setting the plate with $72 dollars worth of Spiderman cookies on top of the left corner of the paper to make sure it doesn't get blown away in the wind. Then you leave the window open for the first time since you've moved into this apartment before heading to bed.

There's nothing else to do but to wait.

You wake to the spit and splatter of rain against your window. It's gray outside, and the cookies you set out the night before remain untouched. You frown at the sight, but you can't say you're surprised.

There was never any real indication that he was lurking around you. Superheroes are bound to have more interesting things on their schedule than stalking a random insurance employee.

You don't know why you thought this would work in the first place.

Getting out of bed, you walk up to your window to inspect the scene. The note is where you have left it, ink a little smeared from the rain, where the plate has kept it in place on the right corner.

That seems odd, now that you think about it. You stare at the note, eye drawn to the watermarks. Why are there water stains bleeding into the paper if your window was closed? As crappy as your rundown apartment can be, water damage is the one thing you haven't had issues with.

You draw your eyes to the closed window being smattered with the rain outside. Didn't you leave the window open last night? You're pretty sure you did, hoping that the open window would be seen as a gesture of invitation. You had left it open… right?

You did.

You're sure you did.

He must’ve been here.

Rude, not-costume-accurate Spiderman was here.

Right?

Your eyes flicker back to the window.

Or maybe you did close the window?

You close your eyes trying to recall your evening, packing the length of your apartment as you replay the memory. Suddenly, you're not so sure anymore. You always close your window, and even though you had every intention of keeping it open last night, who is to say you didn't close it out of sheer habit?

It's strange. Because if he was here, he would've spotted the note. But it's in the same spot you left it yesterday right under the plate on the left side of it...

You eye the undisturbed note tucked under the right corner of the plate.

Wait, wait. Didn't you put the note under the left side of the plate?

You did.

Yes, you definitely did.

Which means, he was here... Right?

You feel like you are going insane.

Are you seeing things that are not there? Was he actually here and if so why did he go to such lengths to pretend otherwise. Why would he passive-aggressively gaslight you into thinking he was never here?

You decide on a redo.

Because if you can't trust yourself and your questionable memory, you can trust a recording.

A teddy bear nanny cam sets you back $50. Not cheap, but not as outrageous as your stale-cardboard-tasting Spiderman cookies.

You set it up on your dresser opposite your window and link it to your phone as per the instructions.

As for the bait. After having tasted those brick cookies for yourself, putting it out for a second night for a man who has saved your life repeatedly didn't seem right. You decide to bake them yourself this time.

The added bonus is that you get to mix blue food coloring into the frosting for the decoration that goes on top. In retrospect, the red Spiderman cookies from last time might’ve implied that you’re calling him a knock-off Spiderman.

Besides, even with the cost of living crisis: a bag of flour, baking powder, unsalted butter, sugar and eggs cost a lot less than $72 dollars.

This time, you don't write him a sloppily put together note. You decide to write him a proper letter.

If he did visit your apartment, (and you're not just going insane) the fact that he moved the note meant that he must've read it.

This note didn’t work.

It must not have been compelling enough, you were kind of in a hurry…

You’ll have to write something better this time. Longer. More emotionally compelling. Surely if you take the time to really explain your plight, you can make him understand why it’s so important he talks to you!

The problem is that it’s hard to sound serious when it’s written on lined paper from your ruled notebook.

That won’t do. You go to the nearest stationery store in your neighborhood, a chain outlet of Paper Source to get yourself some decent looking stationary paper with a matching colored envelope to boot.

You immediately regret this part of your plan, because it ends up setting you back another $26 dollars. Why is 6 pieces of paper so damn expensive anyhow? Surely there’s a few trees left in the world to chop down?!

$102 dollars down in your bank balance, you sit down at your dining table that night, pen in hand and begin writing. You pour your heart onto the pages, setting out in as precise words as you can manage the effect your near death incidents have had on you.

How scared you are, how confused you are, but also how grateful you are that he's saved you, again and again and again. That you believe if you and him can just meet in person and talk, if you could ask questions and figure out why this is happening, then maybe you can find a way to stop it from happening again.

Then you fold the letter and tuck it neatly into the matching envelope and slide it under the left side of the cookie plate and go to sleep.

When you wake the next morning, nothing seems out of the ordinary.

The cookies are still neatly arranged on your plate. The letter snugly tucked underneath it.

On the left side this time, you note.

It doesn’t look like he came.

The only thing is that you swear that the envelope is now several inches further to the left than where you left it last night.

Again, maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

You pull up your phone, opening the app linked to the nanny cam and press play.

There is nothing but the still frame of your studio apartment, your bed to the right and your window square in the camera-view. You speed up the video, but the only thing that takes you by surprise is that you apparently toss a lot more in your sleep than you thought.

The camera footage goes well into 3am, and you’re resigning yourself to the fact that this was all down to your imagination.

He didn't come last night. Probably didn't come the night before. Most likely you woke up from the rain, closed the window and were too sleepy to remember.

You sigh, setting down your phone on the table, prepared to let this whole endeavor go.

On your screen, a smudged shadow appears in the corner of the window. You jump to your feet from your seat, knocking your chair over in the process with a raucous thud. The dark figure grows larger on your screen, dark navy blue and lines of stark red that perches itself onto your window sill.

YES! yes-yes-yes! You knew it. You fucking goddamn knew it!

You were right.

Adrenaline buzzes victoriously in your veins, and you grip your phone harder. Your heart is pounding so fast and hard in your chest you can hear the drumming beat of it in your ears.

He was here!

(You're not cuckoo for cocoa puffs).

You watch as his large figure sits on your window sill. He's still wearing his mask, and while you can't make out the expressions underneath, the outline where his eyes would have been, painted in dark blue, now narrow into a slit on your screen.

There's a hostility emanating from that glare that you are able to sense all the way from the opposite side of the screen. He stares down at the plate of cookies suspiciously. Then he just stays there, unmoving, having a staring competition with the cookies you baked in his image.

In the privacy of your living room, you have the luxury of taking the time to get a proper look at him without interruption. It's hard to ignore the fact of just how tightly fitted to his skin that suit is. The dark blue fabric clings to every line of muscles on his body and it makes your cheek prickle with heat when you look. It feels voyeuristic somehow, but you can't help but think that the more modest alternative would be if he had worn nothing at all.

He's absurdly ripped. Muscular doesn't even begin to describe it. Broad shoulders and a narrow tapered waist segueing into obscenely thick and defined thighs that have your eyes linger for far too long. You shake your head to snap yourself out of it, Jesus you are acting like a creep. This isn’t OnlyFans, though lord knows you paid for this privilege! $102 for a cam video!

On the footage, there is finally movement. He reaches for a cookie, bringing it to his mouth. The blue fabric dematerializes on his lower face until it reveals his tanned skin and that ridiculously cut jaw of his.

His mouth parts. Fangs protrude where his canine teeth are supposed to be and the sight makes you nearly drop your phone in shock.

Is this Spiderman a vampire? Or is he like a tarantula Spiderman with fangs to match?

You watch in suspended horror as he bites into the cookie, those sharp fangs of his are in plain view as he chews.

He leans over to reach for a second cookie and all your trepidation is forgotten for a second, because if he’s reaching for a second one, it must mean he likes them. You grin at your screen, culinary pride beating out any caution or fear you may have had.

Then he lifts up the plate, picking up the letter. The anticipation is too much. You press your face closer to the screen to try to get closer, because your screen is too small to pick up any possible nuances in his expression.

He's carefully opening the envelope as he starts to read. It's impossible to tell what he's thinking. There's no visible change of facial expressions in the outline of his masked eyes. His mouth, which is bared to you, doesn't so much as twitch.

It doesn’t take long for him to read it. When he's done, he tucks the letter back under the plate. Then he bends down over the plate of cookies, and for a moment you think he’s going in for a third. Instead his hand lingers on the plate, before he starts to slide the remaining cookies around the plate to your confusion. You watch in confusion as he picks up the cookies one by one to space them out more evenly. You don't quite understand what he's trying to do, wait… is Vampire spider man re-arranging the cookies to make it less obvious he’s eaten them?!

The bastard really was trying to gaslight you into thinking he was never here.

Once he’s seemingly satisfied with his work, he straightens up, turning until his back is against the camera preparing to leave.

To your surprise his face turns around to take one last look inside. The direction of his gaze settles on your bed where you're sleeping. His eyes lingers there for a handful of moments, inscrutable over the mask.

Is he sad? Angry? You can't tell.

He finally looks away and then he leaps off the window.

Politely asking him in writing is clearly not working out for you.

You decide the only recourse you have left is to try and physically catch him.

Such a simple sentiment that had sounded so easy in your head, but you quickly run into logistical issues when you try to put it into practice.

The man is built like a tank. Can leap off of skyscrapers (and the window of your sixth floor) without breaking a sweat. Potentially also a vampire.

You're not exactly sure how you're supposed to catch someone like that.

Your google research is off to a shaky start. Somehow you end up down a rabbit hole of tutorials for non-lethal mouse traps. It's not very useful inspiration. Because you can't exactly build a 7 foot large cage trap to catch him the next time he comes around to help himself to cookies.

But the concept of having a lure trap set with bait seemed transferable and so you decide to go for a classic spring trap that you’ll modify. No cage, instead you set up a DIY contraption with a sturdy string attached to a bell meant to quickly alert you to his presence next time he comes around.

The game plan is to wake up and corner him before he has a chance to abscond.

As for bait, you google things that vampires might like in a half-thought of plan it might be applicable. Unfortunately, there are no young virgin maidens you know of as far as the eye can see in New York (yourself included) so that was a no go.

So you default back to cookies (because hey, at least it worked last time).

Amazon has your whole set up shipped and delivered by the next day and you implement phase 3 of your rapidly escalating attempts to reach out to him.

Unfortunately, it doesn't work. For one he doesn’t show up that night. Or the night after. It takes him four whole days to show up again and when he does, he spots your trap a mile away. When you review the footage on the cam the next day, he avoids the rope and the whole mechanism effortlessly.

There's no sound on the nanny cam so you can't be sure of it. But you think from the way the line of his shoulders shake as he steps over the rope that he might be laughing at you. He’s definitely seen through few supervillain traps in his days so in hindsight the probability of success here was low.

He does however eat three of your cookies this time.

You get a little bit more desperate after that.

You decide that if a trigger trap to wake you won't work, then obviously, the next best thing is for you to simply stay awake.

The problem is that he doesn't show up every night. His visits are entirely random without an obvious pattern. Sometimes he shows up two nights in a row, sometimes he goes several days without making a guest appearance on your nanny cam footage.

It means you end up downing a whole carafe of coffee, and several energy drinks, every night for a week straight. Entirely unable to predict what night he's going to appear, you keep dooming your already tiny bladder to a dozen visits to the bathroom before the clock has even struck nine.

The saddest part of it is that despite being wired on enough coffee to power a nuclear power station by yourself, you never end up staying awake the whole night through.

More often than not you end up falling asleep sitting upright by the dining table waiting up for him. Then the next morning you wake with a wry neck, a sore back and your face pressing up uncomfortably against the wooden surface.

But you're nothing if not tenacious. Tonight makes it the sixth night in a row that you’re doing this. You stare down the can of red bull on your dining table as you pick it up and lift it to your mouth. You’re going to keep going, hardness of the wooden table be damned.

You're surprised to find yourself waking up feeling well rested without any aches. Surrounded by the softness of your quilt and your even softer memory foam pillow.

The luxurious comfort of it all is such a relief that you don't even question it at first. Don't question why you're in bed when the last thing you remember was nodding off against the palm of your hand and the hard discomfort of your dining chair.

In the sanctuary of your bed, you just dig your face deeper into your pillow and snooze for as long as you can. Ignoring the bright sun pouring in from your windows until it sears unforgivingly against your skin and you decide that it’s finally time to start your day.

By habit, the first thing you do as you get up from bed is to pull up the nanny cam app on your phone and press play on last night's recording.

There's nothing of interest. Seeing yourself read a book by the dining table and chugging down a series of Red Bull is hardly riveting television.

Yesterday you barely even make it until midnight because you can see yourself nod off at the table, head sliding off your palm and plonking down on the dining table. You flinch at the impact, vaguely impressed that the collision didn't wake you.

Your (maybe vampire) Spiderman turns up at 3 am.

Much like the times before, he perches himself on your window sill, peering inside (presumably to check for any new traps you might have laid out for him).

His broad frame stiffens, and then, with a smooth leap, he's inside your apartment.

Excitement rushes to your head, because this is the furthest he’s gone and the first time he's come all the way inside instead of just lurking on the window sill.

He goes over to your bed, flinging the quilt to the side. He seems stressed, the dark shape of his eyes wide as he stands over the empty bed when it dawns on you what’s happening on screen right now.

Oh, he's worried.

He looks over at you, hunched over the dining table, sound asleep and oh god, is that drool on your cheek?

The line of his shoulder relaxes. The broadness of his chest rises then dips with a heavy exhale. Something warm trickles in your stomach at his obvious concern for you.

The mystery is confounding. You don't know him. You've never met him, but for some unfathomable reason he cares enough about you to genuinely care about your safety and you want to know why.

He makes his way over to the table where you are. The mask slowly ebbs away, uncovering his familiar chin, cheeks and then finally his eyes. An other-worldly shade of crimson that has you spellbound and transfixed on the screen.

You find yourself raising your phone closer to your face, trying to get a better look at him. Cursing the crappy quality of the video. You don't know what to make of the way he's looking at you. It's intensely focused, almost sad, and… and… And you don't know what, but it makes your heart leap up into your throat, chest clenching tight.

He bends over, wrapping his broad arms under your knees. He’s careful in his movements, cupping your head as it lolls to the side until you’re comfortably resting against his shoulders. It’s a practiced movement, as if he’s done this a hundred times before as he picks you up and carries you bridal style to your bed. Gingerly tucking you under the quilt with something that looks a lot like tenderness.

It leaves you with more questions than ever.

Ever since you started your caffeine chugging marathon, work has become a new kind of hell.

You're already half-asleep and nodding off at your desk by 10.30. Eyes sore and strained as you stare at the bright screen and try to make sense of the endless columns that are all different and also all the same until your brain refuses to try to make sense of any of it anymore.

You need to go for a walk. Clear your head.

Maybe pop out for a coffee... smoothie. Definitely smoothie.

Outside, the heat is oppressive, far too hot for only being May. Definitely too hot when there are this many tourists around. The street is so crowded you can barely make an inch of headway, trapped behind a family with a stroller in front, trapped in front of a pushy businessman who keeps stepping on your heels every two steps, and trapped next to a guy who is really into his airpods.

With the excess of caffeine still trying to make its way out of your system and the unforgiving heat of the sun beating against your back, it all has the effect of making you feel like you’re hung over. Your breakfast is roiling in your stomach. Sweat plastered against every inch of clothing. You don't know why you do this to yourself.

Every morning you tell yourself never again, and yet every night, there you were, spending half of your disposable income on energy drinks.

Starting from today, you're going cold turkey on the stuff. You've finally given up on trying to stay awake long enough to catch your super-stalker in his cookie burglar routine. Endlessly chugging down caffeine every night is not working out for you. Neither are the DIY mouse traps.

You're running low on ideas of how to trap him. You have nothing else to go on anymore. No idea on how to summon the man. The only time you know he'll be there is the moment before each near-death when he's there to save you.

What are you supposed to do with that? Purposely throw yourself off another building to lure him out?

That's crazy!

…Right?

But maybe... No! Definitely crazy.

Someone screams, and you snap out of your thoughts. There's yelling and terrified shrieks all around you. You're caught in the throng of people, panicked bodies pushing and pressing up against you, all of them trying to run the other way.

You dig in your heels, bracing yourself against the stampede of people. They’re pushing in from every direction until it’s impossible to move an inch. It’s hard to turn your body, when second after second, someone is pummeling into your side, knocking into your bruising shoulder. You barely manage to crane your neck back far enough when you finally spot it.

A red-green truck with a gigantic taco on its roof is careening towards you across the pavement, no driver behind the wheel. The sea of bodies parts around the out-of-control vehicle, people running left, right and forward to escape being crushed under the wheels.

There’s no time to react. It’s too close. Too fast.

A hand clutches at your wrist and pulls you backwards, your vision obscured as your face is pressed up against a familiar solid warmth.

"Hold onto me," he tells you, and you do.

You're held firm against him as the ground underneath your feet disappears, and everything feels weightless. Then all you hear is a loud thunderous crash.

Your feet touch back down on the ground, and the strong protective hold on you unravels.

When you open your eyes he's already gone. You're left on the corner of Lexington Avenue, still trying to catch your breath. The mob of people is still there all around you, but the panic has passed now, everyone is standing still. Everyone is observing the wreckage of the run amok truck that is now flipped onto its side, rendered harmless.

Miraculously, somehow, nobody around you seems visibly injured.

From a distance, you can hear sirens approaching with a deafening wail.

But your mind is elsewhere, on the shade of the familiar dark blue and red as you were being saved seconds ago. On his gentle voice in your ear that still thrums pleasantly in your chest.

You want to see him again.

It's Friday, and you break half an hour early for your designated 40 minutes of lunch, taking the elevator directly to the 72nd floor, which is under construction to renovate it into an open observation deck for the public next year.

The thing with commercial skyscrapers is that nowadays most of them have safety glass panels on all outside spaces of the upper floors to ensure that it is impossible to climb up the buildings and jump.

It's a safety feature that became standard after the financial crisis of 2008.

Turns out that imposing an 80 hour work week on your employees, where they don't get to see their family or friends or have a life outside of work, and then stripping them of their financial security makes a lot of people miserable and suicidal (who knew?)

The elevator pings open, and you exit into the construction zone, carefully avoiding the various tools scattered across the half-finished deck. On Fridays, the construction workers on the site leave by lunchtime, and the space is empty of people.

Step by step, you walk up towards the edge of the terrasse, until you stand before the temporary safety rail, looking out over the sprawling city below you. Cars look like tiny moving pebbles and the people, a hive of ants scurrying from street to street.

It’s a dizzying view. Both beautiful and grotesque in its grandeur. The 72nd floor will be 28 more floors to fall from than the 44th was.

The air around you seems to thin, and your stomach wants to crawl down to your feet and hold on to steady ground.

Taking a deep breath, you lift the hem of your shirt, running your hand over the safety harness strapped around your waist, reassuring yourself it's still there. Then you feel along the attached cord, using the carabiner at the end to clip it around the rod of the safety rail.

Being impulsive and daring in your quest is one thing. Reckless and stupid is another.

It’s not a real climbing rope and harness. Turns out professional safety gear is shockingly expensive, but you found a knock-off resistance training set, complete with harness and stretchy bungee cord rope, on Amazon for a very reasonable $15. You’ve already spent $72 on cookies, $50 dollars for a nanny cam set, and an extortionate $26 for stationary paper in your never-ending quest to lure out Fake Spiderman. You figure a rope is a rope, and you're not paying $100 more to get ripped off by the big climbing corporations. But you’re also not willing to go without.

After all, you've already fallen from the Chrysler building once, and you're not angling for a repeat.

As intent as you are on seeing your Spider-benefactor eye to eye, you're not quite prepared to die for the privilege. Your plan is just to make it look like you are going to jump.

Any superhero worth his dime wouldn't actually let you fall before they would be willing to save you.

That would be a real dick move.

You give your impromptu safety rig one last tug to make sure it's secure, then straighten your posture. Grabbing a hold of the metal rail, you hoist yourself up. You clamber onto it, gripping tight with shaking hands as you swing a leg over, straddling the bar.

Left leg then the right, until all of you are on the other side of the railing.

Then you stay there.

One second. Then two. You close your eyes and try not to look down at the many, many floors below, and how one gust of strong wind could probably knock you over and have you falling down the building again. You count the seconds that pass you by.

Five. Six. Seven.

A strong gust of wind blows through your side, and your legs buckle at the strong resistance, hand gripping down on the metal railing to hold yourself steady so you don't fall off.

Eightnineten! Ok. Fuck. No. You're good. Fuck this! He's not going to come.

If he didn’t come when you climbed over, he's not going to turn up now.

You briefly let go of the railing with one hand, adjusting your grip so you can climb back to safety. The sun beating down on your back disappears and is eaten up by a large and looming shadow. Every hair on the back of your neck prickles in warning.

Your reaction is too slow, you don't even have time to turn around to see what caused it. Then all you hear is an angry booming voice right next to your ear.

"Have you lost your goddamned mind?!"

You panic, flinging out your hand to catch the bar, but the hard metal of the railings isn't there anymore.

There is a sharp metallic snap. The safety rope around your waist splits from the hasp.

He’s calling your name.

The world tilts and everything goes upside down along with it. Your stomach sinks with a sickening plummet, legs dropping through into zero gravity as you find yourself staring up at the blue and endless New York sky.

Then you're falling from the Chrysler building.

Again.

Fuck!

~ Next Issue

Dedication & Credits: To my dearest @thirstworldproblemss who has to constantly listen to me jabber on about this day and night endlessly and forever. She is in every sense of the word a collaborator on this project. She brainstorms, she pitches in, she edits and she beta-reads. This and so many of my works would not exist without her, please send her all the love if you enjoyed this story.

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

#miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfic #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #oscar isaac #spider man: across the spider verse #marvel #miguel ohara x reader #spiderverse fanfiction #across the spiderverse fanfiction #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you

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scarletwitching · 1 year ago

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In What If…Wanda Maximoff and Peter Parker Were Siblings? A Scarlet Witch & Spider-Man Story, the fabric of reality is altered once more, and this time Wanda Maximoff, AKA the Scarlet Witch, hails from a distinct corner of the Multiverse where her origin story gets a unique twist. All Wanda has ever known is her friendly little neighborhood in Queens. As an infant, after her parents died, she was adopted into a family where her doting Aunt May and Uncle Ben will always be at the breakfast table. One that includes her idiot brother, Peter Parker, who thinks hiding a spider bite, joining a secret fight club, and becoming a super hero are somehow good ideas. When Wanda’s own powers emerge, blood, chaos, and suspicion follow in their wake. But as she harnesses her power under the guidance of Doctor Strange, Peter is standing beside her in the Sanctum Sanctorum. And as they try to protect New York City, the Parker siblings learn that with great powers, there must also come great responsibilities—and greater loss. Reeling from tragedy, Wanda finds herself truly alone for the first time in her life. Peter is lost to his own grief, and so she must strike out on her own. But on her first solo outing, she runs into a mysterious speedster—a man named Pietro. And everything she has ever known shatters like glass. Faced with unbelievable truths, Wanda is forced to choose between the life she knows and the life she could have… (x)

#scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #spider man #peter parker #quicksilver #pietro maximoff #doctor strange #prose #seanan mcguire #what if

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sokkadora · 1 year ago

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something there — mizu x fem!spider-woman!reader

summary: landing in a new place, and time, leads to new experiences and friends… and a hot samurai?

a/n: mizu having a thing for competence and her s/o’s being capable of handling themselves babygirl i got that you want me!!!

wc: 1.6k

warning(s): injuries, mentions of gunshot wound, passing out from blood loss yippee!!!

ALSO REMINDER THAT MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN SO FEEL FREE TO ASK!! <3

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

︿︿︿︿︿︿ ✎ᝰ . . . .

Your eyes shot open, the sudden cold chill of the snow beneath you shocked you into a sitting position. You ripped off your mask and panted, taking in your new surroundings.

You were still in your suit, which explained why you were so cold, but you were also in the middle of a dark forest. The snow seemed to cool the burning from the gunshot wound in your shoulder and the cut across your thigh, but it didn’t distract you from your entirely new surroundings.

The last thing you remember was being in New York, fighting some gang members who had stolen an artifact from the Sanctum Sanctorum… you’d taken a gunshot to the shoulder, which… ow. But anyway, you must’ve been thrown out of New York into… wherever you were now.

Shivering, you shakily got to your feet and steadied yourself against a tree. You needed to find warmer clothes, fast. You pulled the hood from your suit over your head and your mask back on for the sake of preserving body heat.

You attempted to be stealthily while stepping through the forest, not knowing what wild animals or people could in the darkness lingering beyond your eyes grasp.

After about 5 minutes of walking, you figured it would be better to scale up a tree to get some lay of the land. Maybe a city’s lights nearby to give you an idea of how far you hade to go until you reached some sign of civilization.

Placing your hand onto your eye level with the tree, you easily pulled yourself up and began scaling the tree. It took a minute to maneuver through all the branches with your injuries but upon reaching the top, you noticed a small clearing in the trees that was dimly lit, and you let out a sigh of relief.

After getting down, you corrected your course and started trekking towards your new destination. It took longer than expected because your injuries were slowing you down, but you webbed them up and continued over.

These people were sure to help you, you’re a well known super-hero. Spider-Woman, and if you were still around the vicinity of New York you should be alright…

Right?

It took until daybreak to reach your destination, you figured it would, but that didn’t make you pleased with how long you took.

Your hands were shaking profusely from the cold, and you were beginning to wish that you let Peter put the heater into your suit for days like this.

You heard rustling from a few yards ahead and scaled up the tree closest to you, your head spinning from the blood loss. You grunted softly, beginning to leap from branch to branch to get closer to the noise.

Finally, you made it a few trees away from the source, and were surprised to see a man dressed in… what looked like a chef uniform. You squinted behind your mask, watching as he cut off plants with the knife strapped to his wrist, since he didn’t have any hands.

You were about to get down yourself and approach him, but a nap just sounded… so… nice…

Ringo jumped at the sudden loud thud behind him, his humming being interrupted by a sudden gasp as he whipped around. He gulped nervously before rushing behind a tree, and peeking out from it.

He saw a figure laying motionless in the snow, that seemed to be non threatening, but the attire they donned was bizarre. Skin tight, covered their whole body… what were they?

Ringo cautiously held his knife out while stepping out from behind the tree and making his way to the body.

Were they already dead?

He gulped as he kneeled in front of the person, now clearly seeing that they’re a woman, nudging them with the arm not armed with a knife. After waiting a few more moments to confirm they were really passed out, he bit down on the dull side of his knife and placed it into his pack. He noticed the wound on their shoulder and thigh, along with smaller cuts through the clothing along the arms and torso. He carefully picked the limp body up, and began to carry them back to camp.

He knew Mizu wasn’t going to be thrilled with this new person joining, neither would Taigen, but they’d have to deal with it. He wasn’t going to leave a random woman out in the woods to die.

Upon arriving to camp, he noticed Taigen on the other side of the abandoned shrine writing something down on a piece of paper. Ringo slipped into the house from the far side to carry the body to the room Mizu was resting in.

He lowered the woman onto his futon, pulling the blanket up to just below her chin. He pulled off your mask successfully after a few attempts, and was shocked by your appearance. Mizu wasn’t in the room, but just as he was about to go looking, she stepped into the room.

Mizu’s gaze immediately fell to the figure on Ringo’s futon, a prominent frown taking place.

“Master, just listen-“

“Ringo, I can’t have anymore strays tagging along on this,” Mizu scolded, brushing past him to step over to you. Her anger paused quickly as she noticed how different you looked from them. “Who is..”

“I don’t know,” Ringo replied, stepping onto the other side of you and kneeling down, peeling off the blanket to reveal your injuries and strange clothing. Her eyes widened. “I was going to come find you to stitch up her wounds. I don’t want to encroach on her privacy since she’s a girl.”

Mizu sighed, her eyes shutting tightly. She was reluctant to do so at all, seeing as she doesn’t know you, and your attire was setting off alarm bells in her head. But she agreed, and Ringo took off his medical supplies and handed it to her before wandering off to make the medicine for when you woke up.

Your first meeting with Mizu after waking up was… interesting. She certainly didn’t act warm towards you, with her threatening you with a sword to the throat as soon as you sat up.

But after traveling with her since leaving Taigen behind, you’d began to slowly grow closer to her; more attached. She was distant at first, but slowly warmed up to you after finding yourselves in the same position.

Now, you found yourselves sparring in the middle of the woods before you hit another town the next day.

Mizu wanted to test out your spider sense; she had been intrigued by your powers since she’d first found out about them, wanting to test the limits of them, but not wanting to harm you on accident. She didn’t know how skilled you were yet.

She stood behind you and tied the blindfold over your eyes gently, making sure not to get your hair caught in the knot. She resisted the urge to let her hands wander across your taut shoulder muscles, not yet being willing to openly admire your looks.

“Alright, you’re set,” Mizu said, patting the top of your head before moving to stand a few yards in front of you from where you stood in the center of the clearing.

“If I get hurt, I’m gonna punch you,” You warn playfully, biting back a grin as you heard the sharp sound of Mizu’s sword unsheathing. You could practically feel her smirk as you remained still, but alert.

“Good thing I know what I’m doing then,” She rasped, making you swallow thickly.

The was lingering tension in the air as you heard Mizu’s footsteps go to the left, your enhanced sense cluing you in to her minuscule movements as you took a deep breath.

Before you could really tell with your own perception, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand on edge. Mizu had swung her sword skillfully at you from behind, barely grazing the hair flying from your braid as you ducked into a lunge, sliding away.

She huffed, impressed. And continued to slowly taunt you with her attacks, which you quickly dodged each time. Eventually she had sheathed her sword and began using her arms and legs to kick and swing, until you ended up pinning her against the ground, your thighs on either side of her waist.

You quickly brought your hands to her wrists, pinning them against the ground and smirking as you heard her grunting underneath you. After a moment of struggling, she groaned but you knew she enjoyed the round.

“You win, god,” She chuckled lowly. You released her wrists and tugged the blindfold off, grinning down at her.

“Not so bad, huh?” You smiled, raising an eyebrow at her as she let her hands fall onto your thighs.

“Not at all,” She returned the smile, trying her hardest to hide the warmth growing between her thighs at the thought and demonstration of your capabilities. “Is it… hot out here?”

You pursed your lips before laughing, getting off her waist. “Mizu, it’s snowing outside.” You scoffed playfully, rising to your feet.

She hummed bashfully, taking your hand when you offered to tug her back to her feet. She gazed down at you softly as you brushed off your haori, smiling proudly once it was rid of the frozen mud and snow flecks.

She couldn’t help but feel her gaze soften almost inevitably as she let herself lovingly look at you for a moment while you were distracted.

Reaching down, she softly touched the braid that was slung over your left shoulder, admiring your (h/c) hair gently. You looked down at her hand, eyes wide before you tilted your head up to look at her face.

Her eyes moved back to meet yours, and you forced the fluttering feeling in your stomach away with a smile.

“Round two?”

#mizu x reader #reader x mizu #mizu x you #you x mizu #blue eye samurai x reader #reader x blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai imagine #luzura writes #olive writes #zoe's works #my works

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kingpreciouswrld · 11 months ago

Note

If you’re still accepting Miranda Priestly x Reader fic ideas i’ve got one!

Miranda and Reader have been married or a long time now secretly of course to prevent a media mishap. The reader is a stylist who sometimes stops to visit and help with a showcase, maybe she comes in casually to have lunch with Miranda and gets stopped by Andrea and Emily who try to get her to leave as they don’t know her(only Nigel does) and they’re both trying to tell Emily and Andrea that she’s allowed back there without exposing the marriage, eventually Miranda just comes out and asks why they’re touching her wife ( or something of the sort???) feel free to branch from this

ask and ye shall receive!

I hope you like it! It's been a while since I've written for anyone but myself :3

Nobody's Gonna Know

It’s an unusually busy day in your office. The clothes you’ve ordered haven’t arrived yet and your workers seem to not know how to conduct themselves in a manner without the very needed materials. You looked on through the glass doors as your workers ran around like headless chickens, trying to come up with something to show you before you needed to leave.

As a well-known stylist, it was your job to come up with new and creative or out-of-the-box looks to those who paid for your help. You mainly helped with showcases that Runway Magazine held and the clothes you needed today were actually from Runway Magazine. Through the grapevine you’ve heard that their workers were just as clueless as yours when it came to the clothes you were seeking.

As you sat in your little office, you thought back to when you first started out. You were a nobody, hell you weren’t even a New York local. No, you came from a small town in the middle of nowhere. Having nothing to your name, you first tried making it in California. You gained some traction which led you to move to New York. At first you were against it. You didn’t like big cities all that much, it just wasn’t your scene but you knew that your talent and job called for being around big things.

A year into the job, you attended a charity event where you were introduced to the one and only, Miranda Priestly. It was hard to read the woman at first but you saw it in her eyes, she liked you or at least, your work. That’s how it all started. You started to come and do jobs at Runway Magazine while also taking some jobs on the side. Not to mention the growing relationship between you and the editor which also included the lives of her rambunctious daughters and her slobbery saint bernard.

3 years passed and Miranda and you kept things underwraps. Heaven knows you’d have a field day for Page Six and their stinging words, so you have kept your relationship from everyone. Well, everyone except those closest to you.

Sighing, you looked at the clock. It was almost lunch time and Miranda didn’t like to be kept waiting.

You grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, “Annie, reschedule the runthrough until this afternoon. I’m sure Runway will do the same due to the circumstances with its clothing gone missing. I’m going out for lunch.” Your assistant nodded and frantically went to work at her computer as you passed her.

Making your way to Elias Clarke, you weaved through the small crowds before entering the building– blending in with the clackers around you. No one knew about your relationship with the fashion queen so you easily blended with crowds and you loved it. No one bothered you.

Until they did.

You had made your way up to Runway’s floors when you passed the front desk and made your way towards Miranda’s inner sanctum. You’ve been to Runway multiple times so no one blinked an eye as you strolled down the halls.

Reaching the outer office of Miranda’s, you haven’t intended to actually be stopped by her assistants.

Andy was the first to notice you as Emily was out.

“Oh! Y/n! I’m sorry but Miranda is in a meeting so you wouldn’t be able to go in right away.”

You looked at the clock above the assistant’s desk. 11:56 am. Knowing your wife, you knew she wouldn’t mind if you interrupted her work. She never minded when you did it at home, so why would her workplace be different?

“Trust me, I think Miranda wouldn’t mind Andy. So I’m just gonna…”

You tried to step past the young woman but Andy just stepped in front of you. The assistant’s eyes widened as you tried to step past her again but she blocked your way through.

There was only so much you could do so you sighed as you looked back at the clock.

11:58 am.

This time, you tried to listen for the soft voices coming from your wife’s office. There were only two that you could pick up on. One was, of course, Miranda’s but the other was a man’s voice. Somewhat…feminine? But not too feminine.

“Is it just Nigel and Miranda in there?”

As you tried stepping past the brunette, again she blocked your path.

“Look Y/n, if you keep this up I’m going to have to call security.”

At this time, Emily walked in and took in the scene in front of her, “Andrea? What’s going on here?”

As Andy was distracted, you tried to step past her again but only to be grabbed by the arm and pulled back, away from Miranda’s office door, “Woah! Okay, no touchy, alright? These cost more than your paycheck alright?”

Emily huffed and rolled her eyes but didn’t release you. Andy looked like she was nervous about losing her job. She knew you were stubborn and wouldn’t stop until you were able to see Miranda.

“Since you already have her, escort her to the lobby Em. She’s been trying to break into Miranda’s office. “ ‘Break into’? I’m just trying to see my– ugh, look, I’ll just wait alright? You guys don’t need to be so touchy about–”

Before you could finish your sentence, the brit was already moving towards the front desk area. You immediately stood your ground so the redhead would have a harder time moving you. You’d show them stubborn.

As the three of you were arguing and you were still struggling against Emily’s hold– you didn’t know how the redhead was this strong– you three failed to notice Miranda’s office door open.

“Look, if you let me go, i’ll make sure you still have your job at the end of the day, alright?”

Emily scoffed, “As if you’re so important here, you’re just a small town no one who just happened to meet Miranda and kiss her ass all the way till–”

“Is there a reason you’re restraining my wife?”

Both assistant’s straightened their posture at the cool voice before they realized what she said.

Emily gaped, looking like a fish out of water while Andy looked more afraid of losing her job this time.

Miranda’s eyes were still where Emily had a grip on you and she glared at the redhead, “Let. Go. Emily.”

The brit let your arm go as if your arm burned her and you grumbled as you rubbed your arm, trying to soothe the lingering pain of Emily’s grip. Behind the editor, Nigel looked as if he was about to burst out laughing at the girls’ faces.

“Now, how about some lunch my love?”

#miranda priestly x reader #miranda priestly #tdwp

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captainsophiestark · 2 months ago

Text

Hopeful Future

Stephen Strange x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Requested by anon!

Fandom: Marvel

Day Eight Prompt: "Are we happy?"

Summary: Strange's SO has been struggling since he disappeared in the Blip, but an unexpected visitor to the New York Sanctum might be able to help with that.

Word Count: 1,199

Category: Angst, Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I took a deep breath as I tipped the water can over the nearest flower bed. I'd been advised that keeping a garden might help me cope with my grief. So far, it hadn't really helped. But I guess it hadn't hurt, either.

What had started as a few sunflowers had grown into multiple planter boxes, all outside the brownstone next door to the New York Sanctum Sanctorum. Hardly anyone came and went through either front door anymore, but by the well-tended garden, you'd never know it.

Honestly, I should've moved years ago. Lingering in a place that my fiancé, Stephen Strange, and I had shared before the Blip was almost certainly making it harder for me to deal with him being gone. A lot of the people around me had moved on in the past few years, but I couldn't help holding on. Maybe it had something to do with the magic that had always surrounded us, but for whatever reason, I just didn't want to leave this place behind.

I sighed, straightening the watering can and turning to take care of the flowers outside the Sanctum. I froze in my tracks when I saw the front door just closing, someone apparently having snuck in while I had my back turned. I frowned.

Nobody was really supposed to be going through that door anymore. The only exception was Wong, and I knew he would've stopped to say hi to me. I set my watering can down, then headed for the front door.

Maybe I should've been a little more cautious, but seeing somebody sweeping through the door to the Sanctum had set me off a lot more than I thought it would. I quickly pushed my way inside, shutting the door behind me as my eyes swept the entryway. When I saw a figure about halfway up the stairs, I froze solid in my tracks.

He had dark hair, a very familiar red cloak, and held himself in a way that I'd recognize from a mile away. And he'd frozen on the staircase, too.

"...You weren't supposed to see me."

His voice was equally unmistakable. Somehow, Stephen was standing in front of me.

I rushed towards the stairs, my mind racing. Stephen turned around slowly at the sound of my footsteps, a grimace on his face. I wasn't sure whether I wanted to kiss him or kick his ass, but when I reached him, I went with my gut and wrapped him up in a tight hug. He sighed, but his arms came up to wrap around my back.

"Oh my god, I can't believe you're real," I breathed, tears streaking down my face. I hadn't even realized I'd started crying, but I knew I wasn't going to be able to stop anytime soon. "How are you real? You got Blipped out of existence! Tony Stark told me himself!"

I pulled back to look him in the eyes, but he kept his arms around my waist, not letting me go too far. He looked almost as pained as I felt, and it made me want to hit him again.

"I did disappear with the Blip. I'm... cheating a little with the time stream right now. It's a long story, but I need something in the future that can only be found in the Sanctum of the past—your present."

"Ugh, you're giving me a headache," I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. Stephen huffed a soft laugh, and a minute later, his words finally sank in. My eyes snapped open as I tried to contain a kernel of hope appearing in my chest against my will. "Wait. Did you say... you came from the future?"

Stephen took a deep breath, his eyes searching my face. Then, after a moment, he huffed and rolled his eyes.

"The less information you have the safer we keep our timeline, but... yes. I did. Give it another year or so, but this Blip isn't going to be permanent. Other friends of ours figure out how to bring everyone back."

I stepped back, my mouth dropping open, and Stephen let me go. I blinked at him a few times, waiting for a sign that he was a hallucination or otherwise just messing with me, but none came. He met my eyes with a steady stare, absolute calm and certainty in his expression.

A sob welled up in my chest, and I didn't hold it back. I surged forward again, holding Stephen tight, then moving back just enough to kiss him. He kissed back, holding me tight and rubbing comforting circles on my back as long as I needed it.

When I finally calmed down, Stephen's arms still tight around me, I took a shaky breath and met his eyes again.

"What can I do? How can I help bring you back? Is there a way to bring you back faster? It's probably Rogers or somebody I need to call first, right?"

"Sweetheart." He interrupted me with a gentle squeeze of my sides and I stopped, looking at him questioningly. "I appreciate that you want to bring me back. And I wish you didn't have to go through this at all. But you can't make it go any faster. I know the path and the timeline that brings us back, and I know you're not involved in it. Maybe if you got involved, it would've gone faster. Maybe not. But I can't check, because I don't have the time stone anymore. I shouldn't even be talking to you right now, but it's critical that you don't change anything in the timestream. And that includes not talking to Rogers or anyone else about the fact that you saw me."

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, focusing on the feel of Stephen's arms around me. I knew he was right. I'd studied enough of the books in this Sanctum looking for ways to bring him back that I knew how finnicky the timestream could get. But still, it didn't make it any easier to face the prospect of letting him go, right here and now, and waiting at least another year to get him back.

"Just tell me one thing," I said, at last opening my eyes again. I scanned Stephen's face as he nodded, waiting for me to continue. "Are we happy? When you come back, with whatever else is happening... are we happy?"

The corner of Stephen's mouth pulled up, the corners of his eyes crinkling. My heart leapt as he pulled me closer, leaning in until his mouth was inches from mine. I could feel his breath against my lips as he spoke.

"You know I can't tell you details but... yes. We're happy."

I huffed a laugh, shaking my head even as I smiled and kissed Stephen again. He smiled into the kiss, too, the two of us holding each other tight. I knew he'd probably seen me recently, maybe right before he'd come here, but I hadn't seen him in years. Being in his arms again, and even better, knowing we had a future together beyond this moment, was an absolute dream come true.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

Marvel Taglist: @valkyriepirate @infinetlyforgotten @sagesmelts @gaychaosgremlin

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sobeautifullyobsessed · 2 months ago

Text

self-indulgent reblog

(especially 'cuz I miss writing these two together💖)

A Different Kind of Magic

a bit of romance and magic, because Stephen may be a Master of the Mystic Arts, but he is sorely lacking in the romance department - by sobeautifullyobsessed

for @doctorstrangeaskblog - loosely based on RP between Stephen and Beauty (OFC). Imagine, if you will, how it was when he finally realized there could be more than friendship between them. Part One.

Stephen stretched his arm atop the sofa back, and the woman beside him nestled against him, humming so quietly that he barely heard her. Humming her satisfaction, and neither one of them needing to speak a word, as he adjusted ever so slightly to the feel of her warmth and her soft presence, pressed close to his side. He closed his eyes, delighting as her dark hair brushed along his jawline, enjoying the newly familiar scent of her shampoo (strawberries and cream, entirely apropos to her sweet disposition), while wondering why he had let himself go so long without allowing anyone to get this close to his heart, in what felt to him now like…forever. How could he have so adamantly denied his need for simple, human affection for so long?

She rested her free hand on his chest, and without a thought, he moved his other hand, to rest atop hers. This is good, he thought, and not for the first time today; this is really, really good, as he cast his mind back to the many days and weeks before, when he tried his utmost to keep her at arm’s length. He realized now that he hadn’t been trying to protect himself as much as trying to protect her; he knew his own history far too well, and the remorse of the pain he’d caused the last woman in his life still prickled his conscience when thoughts of her crossed his mind. He’d have to confess it all to Beauty eventually, as a precautionary tale; he would not, could not, bear to bring the same heartache upon her as his thoughtlessness, selfishness, and arrogance, had brought him to inflict upon Christine.

“I love this part,” she murmured, redirecting his attention to the movie on the screen. Practical Magic, a film that she had called one of her favorites. When he suggested a movie night in the comfort (and privacy) of the Sanctum, she had been quick to suggest a magical pair—and Stephen had agreed readily, not realizing there would be more than magic as a theme. Or rather, a very different magic than what he’d been anticipating.

Keep reading

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sweetpinkchampagne · 4 months ago

Text

halloween

synopsis: you and stephen wake up on halloween, interrupted by wong - who explains peter and america are already dressed up in their halloween costumes. a sweet little unconventional family moment.

rating: lots of fluff, not actual smut but like a lead up to it before it’s interrupted - yeah get blueballed guys xoxo stephen is a grump but a cutie pie!! not proofread.

authors note: hello sweetie pies!!!!! i love you! okay that’s all, this isn’t perfect but we need more stephen content, it’s a dying art.

new york was always freezing, it was a given that you would freeze to death three quarters of the year when you moved here. fall on the other hand was beautiful, magical even. the prettiest leaves cascading down into the street, fluttering down from their bare tree branches and pattering down to the cold, wet streets of greenwich village. the warm smell of cinnamon in peoples coffees, thick flannel scarves and fuzzy gloves. you loved fall.

stirring awake to the cool chill of the sanctum sanctorum you made a mental note to ask wong about the central heating system, which is suspiciously clearly not working. your body instinctively moves closer to your husband, clinging to the warmth of stephen as light pools through the large windows, sounds of busy new york feeling so comforting. he groans sleepily, a deep baritone voice making your lips upturn, smiling with closed eyes.

“good morning baby..” stephen smiled looking down at you positioned with your head on his chest, holding his toned torso with your arms. he drew lazy circles on the side of your arm as you looked up at him smiling lazily.

“it’s so coldddd… i don’t wanna get up.” you whined looking up at him, cursing fall mornings.

he chuckled softly.

“mm?? oh my poor, poor baby…” he cooed softly, almost mockingly, smirking like a bastard. you scoffed, giggling softly.

“you can’t be egotistical AND an ass, honey. doesn’t work like that” you smiled up at him, rolling over on top of him, sitting on his lower torso, straddling his hips as he smiled drowsily up at you through half lidded eyes. his hands snaked their way around your hips, shuffling you closer.

“my pretty little baby… all for me, hm?” he propped himself up on his forearms, looking up at you. she looked down at him, at his chest.. sculpted by gods. the pretty silver chain around his neck with his wedding ring around it, since his ring finger couldn’t cope with the pressure a wedding band ensued - although it took a month of you trying to convince him to slip his ring off even just for a second, so he could put it around his neck. your hands held his jaw lovingly stroking his jawline, his goatee giving you goosebumps as always.

“always all for you, stephen.” he studied your face smirking confidently before humming in approval.

“happy halloween gorgeous” he said, cutting the tension with a knife. you laughed softly as he stroked his hands up and down your hips, clutching the plump of your ass and squeezing it softly as you sat on top of him.

“you know we can’t do this right now…” you tilted her head down at him. he shrugged, feigning innocence.

“course we can, you’re not exactly quiet though, are you sweet girl?” he stretched his arms out before placing them back on your tiredly.

you playfully swatted his chest, scoffing.

“i’ve never had any complaints” you shrugged confidently.. “and i’m pretty sure those noises get you goin’ don’t they, honey?” she leaned down before kissing him passionately. he smirked against your lips, deepening the kiss before you broke away, leaving him with ragged breaths.

“mmm.. do you remember last valentine’s day, when you were on a mission and we couldn’t be together?.. when i called you while straddling your pillow, making those little noises for you?” she moved her hips against his half hard cock, her hands resting on the mattress to steady herself. he inhaled sharply, scoffing as he laid his head back.

“i remember it. i also remember being in the middle of a meeting and having to excuse myself, thinking it was an emergency, and then i heard those breathy little moans coming from the phone. you were practically whimpering for my help baby, had to talk you through, huh?”

“mhmmmm…” she sighed, rolling her hips against his pelvis. “couldn’t help it, needed you” she pictured him in the compound, walking confidently into the bathroom just to unbuckle his belt and palm his pretty cock, making a sticky mess of himself.

“stephen…” you whined out pathetically, humping his now hardened cock. he groaned softly, throwing his head back.

“fuck baby, im not going anywhere- you can.. slow down..” he inhaled sharply, letting out a ragged moan.

a knock at the door, of course. she told him they couldn’t, she was right. wong opened the door slowly and you dove under the covers, smoothing your hair down, and smiling - flustered.

“good morning wong! happy halloween” you smiled, chirping.

stephen groaned at wong, pissed.

“it was a good morning…” he sighed, sitting up and running his hand through his hair, annoyed.

“again with the whole noise thing.. you’re like rabbits, this is disgusting. seek help!” your face flushed, turning over and pushing it into the pillow giggling softly, before mumbling out a muffled apology under the sheets.

“peter is downstairs, by the way.” wong informed and you smiled softly nodding.

“parker is here? why is-“ stephen groaned, not expecting to be practically an adoptive father of two at his age.

“stephen.. i told youuuu! he and america are doing the whole halloween costume thing at school. everyone does it apparently.” she informed, laughing softly at his frown.

“great.” he sighed. “that’s great.”

wong mumbled to himself walking away at stephens response, an insult you could only hear half of, but it made you laugh. you jumped out of bed, rubbing your eyes, and stephen flicked his wrist, his clock entering the room and wrapping itself around your shoulders. you laughed softly, smiling at him, walking over to his side of the bed and kissing him softly.

“rain check?”

“always.”

you smiled, satisfied.

“what are they dressing up as?”

“that’s a surprise, you’ll have to see.”

he scoffed, getting out of bed, his grey sweatpants hanging low on his torso, exposing his v line and his entire chest and you had to stifle a sigh. he chuckled, smacking your ass before walking into your shared ensuite to brush his teeth.

“happy halloweeen!!!!!” amercia cheered as you walked downstairs into the kitchen, spotting peter inhaling a stack of pancakes, laughing at his costume. “happy halloween!” you smiled softly, walking over and kissing her atop of her head before walking over and pouring yourself and stephen a coffee.

“that is a very cool puffer vest, mer.” you smiled at her, “surely you’re gonna win best costume guys.” she smiled proudly, posing at your comments.

“that’s what i said” wong entered the kitchen, agreeing.

“oh god…” stephen chuckled looking at peter and america, or should he say doc brown and marty mcfly.

“parker you aged about 60 years overnight. a modern day miracle.” stephen couldn’t help but laugh. they looked so dorky, but they picked a great movie.

“1986?” stephen asked confidently and america, the family cinephile rolled her eyes.

“85, actually. and aren’t you supposed to be a genius?” the 15 year old hummed confidently. you chuckled to yourself. it was days like this that made your sweet unconventional family so perfect.

“oh well pardon me! i studied science, not film. and kid?” he laughed, throwing his hands up in surrender.

“yesssss??” america laughed

“it is a cute vest, you guys are going to win the

costume competition for sure.” he smiled, walking past america and ruffling her hair. she whined, fixing it but smiling. peter finished his stack of pancakes before standing up and burping.

you grimaced slightly but laughed, stephen shook his head.

“manners parker.”

“sorry strange sir, excuse me”

“it’s stephen, kid.” he smiled warmly at peter. walking over to you and resting his head on your shoulder, enveloping you in his arms from behind, hands on your waist. both of you admiring your little family.

#doctor strange #stephen strange #stephen strange x reader #doctor stephen strange fanfic #doctor stephen strange #doctor strange smut #doctor stephen strange fanfiction #doctor strange fluff #stephen strange fluff #i love you

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thevoidstaredback · 6 months ago

Text

Hear me out for a second

Superhero teams playing hide and seek. Specifically, the JL playing in Gotham and the Avengers playing in New York.

The core members of the JL (because I don't like working with huge casts, despite my ability to do so) are tasked with hunting down the BatFam within Gotham City.

Oracle is watching from the clocktower, she may not help anyone, though she can give hints to both teams.

Crime Alley is off limits. The Bat Cave is off limits. The Nest is off limits. The hiders may only hide aboveground, not inside any buildings. They may not leave Gotham City limits.

None of the participants may be seen by civilians while in costume. (Aside from Signal during his patrol)

The hiders have to go about their normal days while the seekers hunt them down. If they're caught at any point, they're sent to the clocktower to watch with Oracle. The seekers cannot be eliminated.

The time limit is 24 hours beginning at 00:00.

If the JL wins by tagging all of the BatFam within the time limit, then they get a week vacation paid for by Batman. If the BatFam (any or all) manage to allude the JL and avoid getting tagged, then the JL has to go through Bat Training™.

Hiders: Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Spoiler, Black Bat, Robin, Signal

Seekers: Wonder Woman, Superman, Aquaman, Green Lantern (any or all), Green Arrow, Flash, Martian Manhunter

Neutral Parties: Oracle (in the clocktower), Agent A (in Wayne Manor/Bat Cave), Cyborg (in Watchtower), Captain Marvel/Shazam (as a civilian buffer)

Works pre or post ID Reveal, but I think it's the funniest as the ID Reveal. Dealer's Choice on all extra details, including the rewards and punishments

Marvel

The founding Avengers are playing against the other teams they meet up with in Civil War (with one added extra for comedy). Whoever is seeking and hiding is Dealer's Choice because either way works.

Hulk is watching from Avenger's Tower with Happy. Dr. Strange is watching from the Sanctum Sanctorum. DD Is watching from Hell's Kitchen. None of them may interfere, though they can give hints to either team.

Hell's Kitchen is off limits. The Bronks is off limits. Queens is off limits. Brooklyn is off limits. The hiders may only hide aboveground, not inside any buildings. They may not leave New York City limits.

Hiders: Iron Man, War Machine, Black Widow, Black Panther, Spider-Man, Vision, Deadpool

None of the participants may be seen by civilians while in costume. (Aside from Deadpool. I will not explain why)

The hiders have to go about their normal days while the seekers hunt them down. If they're caught at any point, they're sent to Avenger's Tower to watch with Hulk and Happy. The seekers cannot be eliminated.

The time limit is 24 hours beginning at 00:00.

If the seekers win by tagging all of the hiders within the time limit, then they get a week vacation paid for by the hiders. If the hiders (any or all) manage to allude the seekers and avoid getting tagged, then the hiders get a week vacation paid for by the seekers.

Seekers: Captain America, Ant-Man, Winter Soldier, Hawkeye, Falcon, Scarlet Witch, Agent 13

Neutral Parties: Hulk (in Avenger's Tower), Doctor Strange (as civilian buffer), Dare Devil (as government buffer), Happy (as damage control)

Works best post Civil War, pre Infinity War. Dealer's Choice on all extra details, including the rewards and punishments

#i wanna see where people take either of these teams #marvel #mcu #marvel comics #marvel cinematic universe #dc #dcu #dc comics #detective comics #the avangers #the justice league #batfam #team red #gotham city #new york city #hide and seek #but played by superheroes and hero adjacents #this as the potential to be hilarious #writing prompt

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baronessvonglitter · 5 months ago

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if love be rough with you, be rough with love | chapter 10 | "all the wrong things for all the right reasons"

Dave York x f!Reader

Word count: 3,228

Summary: you and Dave finally have a night alone to explore your desires and he teaches you how to please him.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, age gap (reader is early 20s, Dave is early forties), light d/s tones, TW for mentions of past child abuse/domestic abuse (reader's family), mentions of Dave's past infidelities, first time, oral (f + m receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v sex (reader is on the pill), dubcon (starts off rough but reader gets into it), reader bleeds her first time, choking, creampie, little bit of bathtub sex, a little bit of bloodsucking (but maybe not the way you think), Dave is adopted(!)

Author's Note: Please note that for the sake of the story there is mention of bleeding during MC's first time having sex. This isn't common, I just used it to show Dave's dark interest in blood and inflicting pain. It also goes to show how the MC is losing her innocence little by little as she is introduced to her new role as his mistress.

Series Masterlist

You walk together through the side entrance of a five-star hotel. "Have you done this before? Taken a girl to a hotel?"

He gently grasps your hand, giving you a little smirk, but doesn't answer. You can already guess that you're not the first but that doesn't matter to you.

At the front desk he checks you in and you hang back, taking in the spacious, elegant lobby. It's almost afternoon and there aren't many people around, but you still feel wary of running into someone Dave knows. He puts his arm around your waist and leads you to room 308. You commit that number to your memory, placing it among just one of the many significant details of this day. You hold his hand as you take the short elevator ride to the third floor.

"Where does your wife think you are right now?" you ask curiously.

"She thinks I'm out with friends."

There's a part of you that likes the lying, deceptive aspect of this relationship. You're doing all the wrong things for all the right reasons.

The hotel room, your sanctum of sex and desire for the night, is elegant yet understated. It looks more like a high-rise apartment than a hotel. A king size bed adorned in tasteful neutrals, a large TV, a minibar complete with every type of alcohol, and a view overlooking the city.

You turn to Dave, who's watching you with an amused expression. "Up to your standards?" he asks, removing his jacket and watch, unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves as he comes close to you.

"It's perfect," you tell him, removing your own jacket. In his arms you softly kiss his cheek.

"No more of that," he says gently. "Kisses on the cheek? Now you'll have to do better than that, my girl. Kisses for me have to mean something. I want to feel you, savor you."

Eyes wide, pupils dilated with lust, you lean in and kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth. He tastes like desire and you can't get enough of him. Dave trails hot wet kisses down your neck.

"Strip for me," he commands, already unbuttoning his own shirt. There's but a small pause before you acquiesce. Slipping off your clothes you are left in only your bra and panties, a peach silk set you're glad you wore today. Dave eyes your body hungrily, and the bulge in his pants grows. "Sit on the bed," he tells you, and you perch yourself on the edge, parting your legs, keeping your eyes on him as he removes his shirt and unbuckles his belt. The sound of the metal, of the leather being pulled through the fabric loops, discomposes you. The next thing you know, Dave is kneeling before you, his eyes full of concern.

"Are you okay?" he asks. "I thought I lost you for a minute."

Coming back to your senses, you feel foolish. "Yeah.. yeah, I'm fine. Sorry."

This doesn't necessarily dissuade him. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to," he says in a serious yet comforting tone. "You looked out of it. What were you thinking about?"

You would never dream of ruining this time with him with such talk. "Right now all I can think about is you.."

He smiles and puts his hands on your thighs, letting them travel up then back down to your knees which he hooks over his shoulders. You scoot yourself to the very edge of the bed, nerves thrumming with anticipation. Dave brushes his hand against the growing wet spot on your panties. "I have so much planned for you, sweetpea," he whispers, gently lapping his tongue against your wet spot, pressing his tongue hard enough for you to feel through your panties. You give a loud, needful moan. Dave pulls your panties down and kisses his way up your thighs. Each kiss is like fire upon your skin, and your breaths get shorter as he inches closer to your pussy. "Look how wet you are. And I haven't even done anything to you yet."

Your breath comes out in short puffs, and Dave gently blows on your clit, making you exhale with a sweet sigh. He holds your thighs, keeping them pushed back to expose more of you, and he takes in the sight of your already drenched folds. Without a moment's hesitation he dives on, devouring you with unbrideled fervor.

You moan in surprise, hips arching up to press yourself against his mouth, his tongue gliding along your clit as he inserts two fingers inside, intent on making you cum as hard as possible. All his patience with you dwindles the moment you dig your fingers into his hair, demanding more of him. He's never gone down on you until now and he wishes he'd done it sooner. "You taste so fucking sweet," he growls. Time seems to stand still, minutes seem small eternities while Dave works his magic. Your hands grab his hair, his shoulders. whatever you can grab hold of and the sounds that leave your mouth are absolutely wicked.

Spurred on by this, Dave gently takes your clit between his teeth, using his fingers to fuck you. You try to give him encouragement, to communicate your appreciation, but your mind is a mess and you can only generate feral sounds. You tremble all over, even your thighs which Dave clamps down with his arms. Only at the right, precise moment are you able to speak: "Oh my god Dave, I.. I.. oh!" A powerful wave rolls through you, carrying you to bliss.

Dave talks you through it. "There it is, my girl, yes.. you're so beautiful and this is all for you." He continues lapping at you, sucking up the juices of your arousal.

"Dave!" you moan as another great wave overtakes you. A thin sheen of sweat covers your body. "I don't know how much more I can take!"

"Just let yourself go, let me take care of you." His voice is soothing, hypnotic, almost romantic. You follow his gentle command and unleash the onslaught of pleasure that's been building up inside you, crying out his name, gently pushing him away when you become overstimulated.

He chuckles, laying next to you on the bed. "Do not ever be ashamed to tell me when you're done. Was that the first time you've ever had your pussy eaten?"

You nod, too overcome to speak just yet. Your eyes are bright, skin glowing. Dave sees this and pulls you in for a kiss, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. "What do you say to making that a regular occurrence? Tonight and as often as possible," he says. "But you understand that now I have to fuck you. I've been waiting so long, imagining when and where you'd finally become mine."

"You think I haven't wanted that too? I've fantasized about this moment forever. Make me yours.. leave your mark on me." You take his hand and guide it back to your pussy, and he readily takes over, fingering you again, gliding smoothly, stroking that soft, hidden part inside you that makes you scrunch your face in pleasure. He teases you relentlessly, filling you up but not wanting to stretch you out too much - you're so tight and he wants to relish that feeling. He's excited to be your first and he has no doubt he can make your first time memorable and pleasurable.

Only just before you come do you feel him unclasp the front of your bra, fondling your breasts and nibbling on the hardened points with his teeth. This is what propels you over the edge. He fingerfucks you through your orgasm. At the same time it's too much and not enough. "I need you inside me, Dave. Please.."

His response is little more than a growl as he moves over you, getting rid of the rest of his clothes. You cast your bra to the floor with the rest of your clothes. Dave stares down at you on the bed and you think you can see a bit of tenderness beneath his intense gaze from the foot of the bed. "Come here first. I want to fuck your mouth," he commands.

You get on all fours at the edge of the bed and he moves your hair away from your face. This creates a Pavlovian response in you to open your mouth. "Good girl," he says, pulling your hair back as you take his cock into your mouth. You know by now what he likes, but this time you let him take charge because that's what he likes in this moment. "You take my cock so well," he praises. "I'm turning you into such a good little slut. But only for me.. my fucking whore."

He pulls away when your lips tighten around him and your tongue caresses the underside of his dick. "Not yet, sweetpea. I want to cum inside that perfect virgin cunt. Regarding birth control," he continues smoothly, "you're on the pill, right?"

You have a questioning look on your face then you realize how he knows this about you. "I forgot. You like to go through my room." He must have found your pills in your bedside drawer. "Yes, I am," you answer him.

"I just wanted to see if I could trust you," he says easily. "And you, sweetpea, do you trust me? With your body, with your emotions, with your soul?" As he asks this his hands roam your body, appreciating every curve, every plane, and the triangle of soft hair that covers the entrance to your best-kept secret. God, each little touch, no matter how innocuous, dares to send you into a frenzy.

"Yes," you sigh, your heartbeat a timpani drum beat pulsing your entire body.

He hooks your knees over his forearms and positions yourself at your entrance. "This first time is just for you, sweetpea. The next time and all the times that come after are for me."

He pushes in and you gasp at the intrusion. You're wet enough to take him but it's still a matter of acclimating to his girth. He gives shallow strokes, easing deeper each time until he finds your barrier. "Look at me. Breathe," he commands in that low, soft voice. You do just that, then he slams himself against you, causing you to cry out at the brief yet searing pain. The shock wears off soon enough and you feel him fully sheathed inside you, and the first word out of your mouth is, "Fuck!"

Dave takes a moment to let the feeling sink in. He's never been in such a tight pussy. He has to hold back just from cumming right then and there. Slowly he removes himself, eliciting a slight wince from you. There's a little blood on his cock. A real virgin he thinks in wonder. Not just someone who's never been fucked, but someone who's bled for him, given something up for him. He brings you up to a sitting position. "Suck it off."

You do, and it feels ceremonial. You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock and let him push into your mouth a little bit. He stares at you with what you might think, if you didn't know better, was love.

He pushes you back to the middle of the bed, joining you on the soft sheets as he presses into you again. There's less pain this time. You cease to think of anything except what is happening between you, the slow and gentle movements.

"You're so warm, so tender, and so god damn tight, sweetpea," he whispers. You whisper his name over and over, a prayer of lust and love. You kiss his face, his shoulders, his chest, wherever you can put your lips. There's the centralized feeling of the momentum of his hips rocking against yours, moving steady and deep. Meanwhile Dave is cupping your ass, bringing your legs over his shoulders so that he's in as deep as possible, a look of concentration and determination in his dark eyes. The eye contact alone is a type of eroticism, as you're both unable to feign anything in your compromising position.

"Oh god Dave.. please!" you moan.

"Please what, sweetpea?" he replies, a smug smile on his lips.

"Harder! Please!" you beg, and are rewarded with the smooth, quick pistioning of his hips, his thumb caressing your clit. An unstoppable wave of pleasure washes over you and you give a ragged cry as you cling to him.

He takes a moment to pause to revel in the feel of you pulsing around him, the way your cunt dares to consume him whole. Then he deftly maneuvers you on top of him and without being told what to do you ride him, sinking down on him, impaling yourself upon his cock. "You take me so well," he murmurs again, his hand reaching up to graze your jaw and travel down your neck. "You've already come for me like a good fucking girl. I want you to come again and again until you're a fucking quivering mess." His hand slowly grips your throat, lightly squeezing, his thumb pressing down on your windpipe just enough to make you gasp. Your hand covers his and for a moment Dave thinks you're going to remove his grasp, but to his utter delight you press his hand harder against you. He restrains from squeezing too hard yet he can see the effect it's having on you. "My girl likes a little choking? Likes it a little rough?"

Your only answer is a stifled moan as you continue to move on him, finding a rhythm that feels the best for you and that makes his eyes roll to the back of his head. He continues pressing until you ask him to go easy and he does ease up, just enough to keep you under his thumb. "Come for me, baby. You've got another one in you." His free hand cups your breast, teasing your nipple, rising up to kiss you. You wrap your arms around him, grinding your hips harder, opening your thighs wider to accommodate his girth. This time an even greater surge of pleasure engulfs you, makes you feel as if you're drowning in this long, drawn-out climax. Dave lets out a surprised grunt, shuddering as he comes, and you feel the warm rush of his seed. In that moment he leaves a piece of himself with you and it feels like a gift, like a secret. You stay locked together in this embrace, catching your breath. Though he is satiated, Dave looks at you as though he could ravage you all over again.

"You're mine now," he says. "You'll never belong to anyone else, not really."

"Why would I want to?" you smirk and it damn breaks his walls.

He puts you on your back, legs still spread so he can see his cum dribbling out of you. "I took it easy on you this time," he says, using his fingers to push his cum back into you. You wince, still sore. Dave notes this and is more gentle with you. "How do you feel?"

"A little achy, but not bad.. my bones feel like jello," you give a little laugh.

Dave smiles. "I have an idea."

The tub is warm, full of frothy bubbles, and you're lying with your back to Dave's chest as he lazily strokes down the middle of your chest. "I suppose this isn't the first time you've been unfaithful to her," you say softly even as the bathroom tiles echo your voice and make it louder.

Dave agrees, nodding. "You're right, this isn't the first time I've been unfaithful."

A twinge of jealousy pricks at your heart even though you know such a reaction is silly. "So the others were just flings, or...?"

His voice rumbles against your spine as he speaks. "The others started as just flings. I had some fun.. there were quite a few.. some I even took home right after meeting at the office, others I met on business trips, but never anyone close. Never anyone like you. You're different."

You take those words into yourself, even though they sound like a bad line from a teen TV drama. You're different, not like other girls. You're better. You can't be upset about things he did before you met. And you have to admit part of you thinks his double life is hot.

"Has Carol ever caught on?"

He pauses. "Couples will usually have arguments about faithfulness or the lack thereof, but her accusations have never been very strong, just mild critiques about how I'm away from home so much."

"You seem to have such a good relationship with her.. sometimes I watch the two of you and it seems so surreal, like one or both of you is putting on an act."

He tenses up a little at that. "What do you mean?" His voice is on edge.

You pause. "Tell me about what you were like growing up.." You tilt your head to look at him and he gives you a quick kiss. "There's not much to tell. I was in the foster system from a young age and the family I was eventually adopted into was a military family. We moved around a lot from base to base, different countries. So naturally that became my calling as well."

"And your family was okay? I mean, they loved you?"

He nods. "Yeah, we were really close, and still are."

"What happened to your birth parents?"

"I don't know. I don't care," he says with a shrug.

"My parents were shit. Well, my dad was. He used to drink a lot, beat my mom. And she never did anything about it. She was helpless."

He moves to face you. "Did he ever hurt you?" His eyes take on a ferocious look.

"Sometimes, but more than that he was manipulative. He knew how much I loved him despite everything and he used it against us, moreso with me than with my mom or my brother."

"He should have protected you. A father is supposed to be someone you can depend on," he says, and he strokes your damp hair with such love and tenderness that it almost makes you cry.

"It doesn't matter anymore. He's dead. He's been dead five years." You look up at Dave and manage a smile. "I see now why you're so dedicated to your family, how much you love your daughters. It's part of what attracted me to you. I guess I see your happy family and I want that."

"Maybe it's why you're fucking the father of that happy little family," he suggests, a provocative look in his eye as he takes you into his arms. He positions you on top again, facing away as his hips roam your slippery hips and you fit over him like a perfect glove. "This is what playing house gets you, sweetpea. Now you have to let me use you how I want.."

Your head tilts back as you slide over him, grateful to have this with him, for him to fill you up any time he pleases. This is your only chance for happiness and you're going to take it.

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