#benedict cumberbatch x reader fluff

[ironstrange1991]

The Healing Touch

Pairing: Stephen!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: The Reader has a terrible headache and Stephen goes full doctor mode to take care of her

Word Count: 4,1k

A/N: This fic is total self indulgent. The entire medical part is based on my experience with the worst headache I've ever had in my life. I had to take something positive from the whole situation. Hope you guys like it and have a nice reading ;)

You had never had such a bad headache in your entire life. It was strong enough to bring tears to your eyes and prevent you from working. It had all started with an allergy attack due to the renovation work in the office building where you worked. Even taking the anti-allergy medication you were used to taking, things only got worse and soon your airways were completely blocked and you had an incessant cough that made you want to vomit your guts out.

But things got worse when you woke up on Friday with a headache that simply wouldn't go away no matter how many painkillers you took. The persistent pain got worse over the days, reaching its peak on Monday morning. When you woke up, you simply couldn't open your eyes, and when you tried to get up, your head hurt with a piercing throb that made you sit down again and fall into silent tears. 

It was a nightmare. Stephen was on mission and you hadn't been able to talk to him in the last few days. You were practically married to a doctor, but you couldn't count on him to help you when you needed it most and that only made you cry even more, giving in to despair.

After a few minutes you forced yourself to get up and staggered to the bathroom where you forced yourself into the shower, hoping that the cold water would somehow help you, but there was no improvement. As you were changing your clothes, feeling dizzy from the strength of the pain and the throbbing in your forehead, you decided that you would take a taxi and go straight to the hospital. By that point, your anxious mind was already telling you that you had a brain tumor.

You were slowly walking down the stairs, each step you took making your head ache even more, when you heard the familiar hiss of a portal opening in the entrance hall. You didn't feel excited, already imagining it was Wong and the light coming from the windows and the door barely allowed you to open your eyes to see anything, but then you heard a baritone voice informing you that it was Stephen who had arrived.

"Sweetheart? What's wrong?" His voice was a big relief, although it sounded extremely worried and as if by magic - which it was - he was by your side, helping you to put your arm around his neck and picking you up. He quickly went downstairs and took you to the nearest sofa in the main hall and knelt in front of you. Cloaky let go of his shoulders and flew nervously across the room, stopping behind the sofa and watching you.

Stephen's presence, although a relief, made you succumb to tears again.

"Hey, Y/n, look at me, tell me what's going on, you look pale. What are you feeling?" He asked, going into full doctor mode and forcing your eyes open so he could examine them.

"My head is exploding." You finally managed to speak. "It's been hurting since Friday, but today it's unbearable, Stephen. I can't handle the pain."

Stephen conjured a small flashlight to examine your pupils and then hummed to himself looking relieved. "The pupils are normal. That's good. Can you follow my finger, please?" He asked, raising his index finger to the level of your eyes and directing it to the left and then to the right slowly. You followed the movement with your eyes to which he praised.

"Very good. Now tell me how many fingers you see." He asked, showing you three fingers.

"Three."

"Very good. And now?" He showed you one finger.

"One."

"Good. One more time. How many fingers?" He asked, closing his fist.

"None."

He nodded, sighing in relief. But the small wrinkle that always appeared between his eyebrows was still there.

"How is your vision? Can you see perfectly or is it blurry? Any black spots or spots of light?"

You shook your head. "I can see, but I can't keep my eyes open because the light makes it hurt even more." You whimpered. "The pain is too bad, Stephen. I don't know what to do."

Stephen shushed you, putting the small flashlight aside and bringing his two thumbs to your forehead, positioning them just above your eyebrows and pressing them there in circular motions.

"Fuck." You hissed.

"I hit the spot, didn't I? Here is where it hurts the most?"

You nodded. "And inside of my eyes and on my cheeks. It feels like my whole face hurts. Even my teeth."

He hummed positively but remained silent, moving his fingers from your forehead to your cheekbones and down to the joint of your jaw, putting some pressure there.

"It hurts so much, Stephen. What if I have a brain tumor? Or... or an aneurysm? What if I have an aneurysm?" Your voice was getting shakier and shakier, and heavy tears fell from your eyes. "I don't want to die, Stephen. I don't want to." You said, clinging to him and hiding your face in his neck as you gave in to crying again.

Stephen wrapped you in his arms, one of his hands stroking your hair as he shushed you. "You're not going to die, sweetheart, and you don't have an aneurysm or a brain tumor." He said, trying to reassure you.

"But it hurts too much." You whimpered.

"I know. I'll make it stop. I promise. I'm here now. But you need to let me go so I can go to the drug store to get your medication."

But the idea seemed absurd to you and instead of letting him go, you tightened your arms around him even more, which made him grunt softly and pull your hands away gently.

"What you have is called sinusitis. It's a serious inflammation of the airways that causes secretions to build up in this region here." He explained, pulling you away enough so he could illustrate what he was saying. He ran his index finger along your cheekbones and above your nose. "Because of the inflammation, you feel pain here." He continued moving his finger down to your jaw. "That's why your teeth hurt too." You nodded.

"But why does my head have to hurt so much? I don't understand." You asked, wiping away the tears with the back of your hand.

"Because the inflammation causes the facial muscles to tense up, which causes all the pain." He explained, standing up, but you held his hand tightly.

"Don't leave me alone. Please."

Stephen sighed. "I really need to go, love. The sooner you get your medication, the faster you'll get rid of the pain. Isn't that what you want?" He asked and you nodded, but kept holding his hand anyway.

"I had an idea. What if Clocky stays with you while I go, huh? Do you think that's a good idea?"

Before you could even answer, you felt the sentient relic moving excitedly behind you.

"It really loves you, you know?" Stephen insisted and you finally let go of his hand and watched him gesticulate with his head for the relic to come closer. Cloaky quickly flew over the couch and wrapped you in a comfortable hug. One of the things you loved about it - besides the fact that it was a magical piece of clothing that had thoughts and feelings just like Aladdin's carpet and you thought that was amazing - was that it smells like Stephen.

The warmth and soft touch comforted you somehow and you leaned against the back of the couch and curled your legs up trying to get as comfortable as possible.

"That's great, sweetie. I'll be back in a minute. I promise." He said and with a quick gesture of his fingers his robes were exchanged for jeans and a shirt and he walked quickly towards the door.

...

Stephen hated waiting in line. He had always been impatient, but ever since he learned the mystic arts he simply couldn't accept that there were things he couldn't solve with magic. Sure, he could open a portal and get the medication he needed, but that would be stealing and he considered himself an honest enough guy to do that. So there he was waiting in line at the checkout with a basket in his hand, waiting for the woman to pass the purchases of the person in front of him with an almost deliberate slowness while everyone in the drug store continued to stare at him in the strange way that everyone else stared at him when they recognized him.

When it was finally his turn, the woman named Katia looked at him with a sour face and said in a tedious manner, "Prescription, please."

Stephen sighed, "I don't have a prescription. I'm a doctor. The medication is for me." He lied shamelessly.

The woman cast a suspicious look at the basket and then at him. "I'll need to see your license."

Stephen sighed, letting his irritation show. "Come on, you know who I am. Everyone knows I'm a doctor."

"I'll need your license, sir."

Stephen sighed, taking out his wallet and opening it with difficulty because his hands were shaking more then usual. He took the document and showed it to her, then put it back.

"That's 145 dollars." She said, finally putting the boxes inside a plastic bag and handing it to him.

"Keep the change for the wonderful service." He said ironically, handing her the money and finally leaving the drug store and returning to the usual movement of Manhattan.

When Stephen finally returned home, it seemed like it had taken hours, but it had only been 25 minutes. He found you still in the same position, cuddled with Cloaky and with your eyes closed. He quickly moved his fingers, closing all the curtains in the room and approaching.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I tried to go as fast as I could..." He said and Cloaky gently pulled away from your hold and flew up the stairs.

He sat down next to you and conjured a glass of water and handed it in your hands while he opened the medication boxes and took out the pills and put in your hand.

"This is an anti-inflammatory, this one is an antibiotic and together they will cure the inflammation and relieve the tension."

You nodded, putting the two pills in your mouth and swallowing them with a sip of water. He couldn't help but smile at the fact that you didn't question him, just trusted him completely. He knew that a big part of that trust was because you loved him, but an important part was because you trusted him as a doctor and Stephen missed that. He missed being a doctor, having people's trust in that way and feeling good about being able to save a life or help someone in that way.

"This one is for the pain. It's a strong painkiller and should take effect within a few minutes. It will make you drowsy, though."

You took the pill and threw it in your mouth, swallowing it quickly while you poured the glass of water. Stephen smiled tenderly, taking the glass and placing it on the coffee table. Then he took a small bottle from the bag and opened it, showing you how to use it. "This one you spray twice in each nostril, and it will help decongest your nose and make you breathe better."

But instead of taking the bottle from his hand, you just got closer to him and put your head forward, waiting for him to apply the medicine to you. Stephen let out a small chuckle, feeling his chest get warm. You were so cute. Even in that situation that wasn't the least bit funny, you managed to be extremely adorable.

"There you go." He said, finishing the application of the medicine and putting them all back in the bag and placing the bag on the table. "Now come here." He asked, stretching out his arms so you could snuggle into his chest. “I think you need cuddles.”

He hugged you, gently resting his chin on the top of your head. "I'm sorry I wasn’t here for you, sweetheart. I hate these missions sometimes, especially when we can't communicate." He confessed. Deep down he was feeling extremely guilty about the situation, even though he knew it wasn't his fault. If he had been there, he would have diagnosed the problem sooner and spared you so much pain. After all, what was the point of dating a doctor if you couldn't count on him when you needed him most?

"You're here now. That's all that matters." You answered, lifting your head to look at him and it broke his heart to see your eyes red with tears like that. He cupped your cheek gently. "Can I kiss you? I heard that getting a kiss from me is the best medicine for sinusitis." He joked, managing to get a small smile from your lips.

 "Kiss me all you want then." You said with a tired smile and he giggled, kissing you softly on the lips and then giving small kisses on your cheeks, on the tip of your nose, finishing on your forehead.

You hummed softly. "I love you, Steph." You said, laying your head back on his chest.

"And I love you, sweetheart. More than you can imagine." He confessed and you hummed again, but remained silent and he respected your silence. He knew that the pain you were feeling wasn’t small. Sinus headaches could be extremely painful, and you had endured it for as long as you could without asking for help. He only wished you had gone to the hospital sooner. He hated seeing you in pain.

...

You didn't realize you had fallen asleep until you woke up to the sound of soft voices talking. Stephen hadn't moved a muscle apparently, possibly to avoid waking you up, but now he was talking to someone.

"I'm glad she's okay now. Give her my best wishes when she wakes up." You heard Wong's voice and kept your eyes closed. The excruciating pain had passed, but your head was still sore and there was still a slight throb above your eyebrows.

"Are you going back to Kamar Taj yet?" You heard Stephen ask.

"Yes. Lots to do as usual. I'll let you rest for the night, Stephen. We'll talk tomorrow morning. Send me an update on Y/n when she wakes up." And as soon as he finished speaking, you heard the squeak of the portal opening and closing and then silence followed only by the sporadic sound of cars passing by on the street.

When you finally opened your eyes, you were surprised to find the Sanctum plunged into darkness. A single lamp was on, emanating a dim light from the kitchen. You had no idea how many hours you had slept, but you were completely dizzy, probably due to the effect of the medicine. You yawned and rubbed your eyes slowly, noticing that the pain behind them had also diminished considerably. Stephen moved slowly and then stroked your hair.

"Are you awake, sweetheart?" His voice was hoarse and heavy with sleep, which made you wonder if he had fallen asleep too.

"What time is it?" You asked softly.

"Almost nine." He answered. "You've slept for almost ten hours."

You rubbed your eyes again and then looked at him in surprise. "You've been here this whole time?"

"I left you in Cloaky's care so I could shower and eat, but I basically spent the day on this couch. I ended up falling asleep too, which is a rarity. I woke up to Wong calling me and asking for a book."

You smiled to yourself. "I'm glad you got some rest too."

He hummed positively. "How are you feeling? Better, I hope."

You nodded, slowly lifting your head to look at him now that your eyes had adjusted to the darkness.

"My head is sore, hurts a little, but the excruciating pain is gone."

Stephen smiled, cupping your cheek and stroking it slowly with his thumb. "That's great. But I'm afraid you'll need to take another painkiller now to give the anti-inflammatory time to kick in before the pain starts to come back." He explained.

"But if I take another one of those I'll sleep for another ten hours." You complained, to which he shook his head.

"I think a Tylenol will do for now. I'll get it for you." He said, threatening to get up, but you held him in place and cupped his face.

"Stay. Just a minute more."

He smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, sweetie, I'll be back in a moment."

You let him go reluctantly, but took the opportunity to sit up. Your body was limp and you felt like you were slightly drunk, so you avoided getting up. Suddenly you saw your bag on the coffee table and remembered that you hadn't even texted your boss, but before you could think to do so, Stephen was back answering the question you hadn't even voiced.

"I called the office and told them you were sick. You're staying home tomorrow too, by the way. Doctor's orders."

You nodded, watching him approach. He was wearing gray pajama pants and a white t-shirt. His hair, always impeccable, was messy and a few strands fell over his forehead. He looked handsome as always, but you couldn't help but notice a nasty cut on his cheek that you hadn't noticed before.

"You're hurt." You said as he sat down next to you, handing you a Tylenol pill and picking up the empty glass on the table and handing it to you. With a simple gesture of his hand, the glass filled with water.

"It's nothing. Drink it."

You obeyed, and the whole time he looked at you with tenderness in his eyes, but the crease between his eyebrows was still there.

"I'm fine, Stephen. Really."

He nodded, taking the glass from your hand and placing it back on the table.

"Seeing you in pain was a horrible experience, Y/n. It made me think that I would never forgive myself if something happened to you, and I'm not just talking about illnesses. The work I do, the things I deal with are extremely evil. It makes me think about the risk you run by living with me."

You smiled, trying to ignore what he was saying, but deep down you knew he was right. Living in the Sanctum with the Master of the Mystic Arts was a risk, but one you were willing to take because you loved him. "Let's not think about that." You simply said. "I'm fine and you came back from your mission safe and sound. That's all that matters."

He nodded, taking your hand in his and promptly changed the subject. "You need to eat something before taking the next dose of medication."

"Pizza." You asked immediately, which made him giggle.

"I was thinking about a salad..."

"I thought I was going to die today from a brain tumor. Fuck the salad, I want pepperoni pizza with lots of cheese and chocolate ice cream for dessert."

Stephen smiled broadly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Whatever you say. I'll order and while we wait, I'll help you take a shower. What do you think?"

You nodded. "I don't think I can stand up on my own to do it anyway. Whatever you gave me made me totally dizzy."

"I told you it was strong, didn't I? But the important thing is that it took the pain away."

You nodded. "Thanks for taking care of me, Steph."

"That's what you do when you love someone, isn't it? You've taken care of me so many times, sweetheart. I lost count of how many times you patched me up after I came back from a mission. That’s what people who love each other do."

You smiled "I really do love you."

...

Stephen had never seen you eat pizza so eagerly and then devour two bowls of ice cream. It was cute. Even your childish palate was something he found adorable about you. He ate four slices of pizza himself and found himself having seconds of dessert, which he rarely did. After a day like the one you had, he was sure you both deserved the comfort of the food.

Finally, you got ready for bed and ended up in bed with the lamp on, giving the room a low, comfortable light.

"How are you feeling now?" He asked to confirm, but it was clear from the look in your eyes that the medication was taking effect.

"Better. I barely feel any pain, but my head is still sore."

He caressed your face, watching you settle into the pillows next to him. "It's normal after such intense pain. You'll be better tomorrow."

You smiled, biting your lower lip and making that little face you always did when you wanted something, but you didn't say anything, you just brought your hand to his hair, tangling your fingers in it and scratching gently. Stephen closed his eyes, indulging in the touch and only then noticing how tired he was. The mission had been energetic, it had been a really hard few days that had taken a lot out of him physically and although he had managed to sleep for an hour or two, he could feel the exhaustion taking over him.

"Hm, it feels so good." He found himself confessing as he melted into your touch. "I missed you, sweetheart. Every day all I could think about was that I wanted to go home." He opened his eyes to see you smiling sweetly at him and slowly you snuggled closer to him as he automatically reached out to hold you impossibly close.

You cupped his cheek and pulled him to your lips, kissing him slowly, but with a growing desire. "I missed you too. I had plans for when you got back. I wanted to surprise you with a special dinner, but it wasn't possible." You said and he smiled reassuringly.

"Well, even though the day wasn't the most pleasant, it's safe to say we had a special dinner tonight. The pizza was very good." He said smirking.

"But there was something else I wanted to give you when you got back." You said, hooking your leg around his hip teasingly and Stephen soon understood what you were up to, but even though he wanted it as much as you did, he was forced to reason.

"Unfortunately, it's not a good idea, sweetheart, even though I really want it."

You frowned, clearly annoyed. "Why not? After the day I've had, don't I deserve a little affection?"

Stephen nodded with a smile. Of course you did. You deserved everything you wanted and he believed he deserved it too after the mission he had just returned from, but it wasn't always possible to get what you deserved. "Trust me, you do, but I don't want to risk making your headache worse."

You stared at him, not understanding what one thing had to do with the other, and he chuckled, trying to explain in a way that made sense.

"Remember what we talked about the tension in your facial muscles making your head hurt?"

You nodded.

"When we make love and you have a good time, which is always, I hope, the pleasure makes you tense the muscles of your entire body, even those on your face and especially during orgasm, which could lead to an orgasmic headache."

You rolled your lips, trying not to laugh. "Did you just make that up?"

Stephen let out a soft laugh. "Of course not. I'm serious. It's a real problem that you don’t have, but given the sinusitis, orgasm could be a trigger for a worsening of your condition."

You buried your face in his neck, laughing softly, and the sound was very welcome after he had seen you crying in pain earlier. "Believe me, I would never make that up, especially since I'm climbing the walls after so many days without sex."

"It hasn't been that many days." You contradicted him. "But I believe you, as stupid as it may seem. I just hate this fucking sinus thing even more now." You groaned.

"Your treatment will last five days, but after that we will have plenty of time to make up for it, trust me."

You sighed, lifting your head to look at him. "You'll have to make it up to me tonight with lots of kisses."

Stephen smiled. "As many as you want, sweetheart." He said, pulling you back to his lips.

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!

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[vickiee-mcmuffin]

Realization

Summary: After hooking up with Stephen on the night of the full moon Kamar Taj party over a month ago, you begin to experience pregnancy symptoms. And you realise you could potentially be pregnant with Stephen's child.

Word count: 2.5k

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Female Reader

Trope: Fluff, mentions of pregnancy, brief mentions of smut (18+ warning, minors DNI)

A/N: This is another little idea I thought of, I hope you like it. I will be doing a Surgeon Strange smut fic next.

You hadn’t planned it or anything. It just sort of happened. One minute you were enjoying the full moon party at Kamar Taj, and the next, you were wrapped up in Stephen Strange’s arms as he pushed his tongue into your mouth. It had all happened so fast. You knew it was wrong and bad—he was your teacher, your mentor—and you both should have known better, but you had been flirting with him since you pretty much locked eyes with him that night. He just looked so good and he hadn’t been able to take his own gaze off of you.

So, after a night of teasing smiles and lingering touches, the two of you found a corner where no one would find you, and he kissed you long and deep, his groans muffled from your soft lips. Then he got all handsy, his fingers grasping at your hips and waist before he brought you back to the sanctum where he took you and made you his.

He had been rough and fast with you, like he had been eagerly waiting for the moment when he finally got to have you. On his bed he had bent you over, taking you from behind as he slammed his cock into you, as you cried out his name, as you begged and pleaded with him to make you cum, and he did. He had your eyes rolling into the back of your head that night. You had no idea that he could make you feel like that, that he possessed that kind of skill. His experienced fingers and tongue and mouth had made you see absolute stars. He had been so big and thick and long, stretching you out and filling you up so, so good. There had been a smirk on his face the whole night, like he was absolutely loving every second of seeing you in pleasure. He had been the reason you went back to Kamar Taj that night just aching to have him take you again.

But when it was all over and done with, you and Stephen promised to never, ever talk about that night again. It was a filthy hook-up. It was a night of dirty actions and words and secrets with the both of you engaging in something that never, ever should have happened. That didn’t stop you from loving every second of it though.

But that was just over a month ago, and while you had been more than ready to keep that secret close to you, there was something that had been on your mind recently. Your period was late and there had been a handful of mornings where you woke up ready to throw up. You kept trying to tell yourself that it was nothing: that you were just a little sick and that the stress was the reason your period was late, but deep down, there was a feeling that wouldn’t go away. You couldn’t deny it: you were worried you could be pregnant with Stephen’s baby. And he was the only man you had been with, so it had to be his.

That same nausea you had been feeling for the last few days hit you as soon as you got out of bed. You had your training class today but that was the last thing on your mind as you ran to the bathroom to throw up. There was no way you could go to your class while you were on the verge of vomiting every three seconds, so you crawled back into bed with a groan.

The nagging feeling wouldn’t leave you. There was a good chance you were pregnant and you needed to know for sure, so after you felt well enough, you opened up a portal that took you right to a pharmacy to buy a test. You bought it and came back to your room, letting in and out some uneven breaths before you opened up the box. You followed the instructions and took the test before you flipped the little piece of plastic over, not quite ready to see the result. Instead, your eyes focused on your reflection as you wondered if your future was about to change forever. How could it be that everything had changed so quickly? You were supposed to be training and learning, not wondering if you were pregnant with a baby.

The word repeated over and over in your head. A baby. An actual baby. Stephen’s baby. You had been so careless that night with him, just seeking your own pleasure. But now that night felt like it was haunting you. What would Stephen think?

You shook your head. You couldn’t think about that. Your stomach was already filled with too many butterflies, and just wondering about what Stephen’s reaction would be would make it worse. There were days when he could be so cruel, so mean.

It took you about five minutes, but you finally let out a long breath and flipped the test over. You literally froze on the spot when you saw a positive sign looking back at you. The one you got gave you an estimate of when the baby had been conceived, and there it was: 6 weeks. That meant Stephen was most definitely the father, that the baby had been conceived that night.

The test fell right out of your hands as tears filled your eyes. What would Stephen’s reaction be? Angry, upset, elated, horrified? Either way, you would have to tell him, and you were terrified about how that could go. Then there was the fact that you were still very much training at Kamar Taj. You couldn’t just take time off. Would you even have time to look after a baby? Would Stephen? Would he want the baby at all?

You didn’t know what to do.

******

The day went by fast and now nighttime was upon you. You had been upset all day after taking the test and your brain wouldn’t stop reminding you that you had to tell Stephen the truth. You knew, but you were so scared of what his reaction would be. You just didn’t feel ready to tell him. Part of you was a little scared. There were times when he was quick to anger.

There was a knocking at your door and you sighed and let out a soft, “come in.”

It was Wong pushing open the door, a concerned look on his face. “Y/N, what’s going on? You’ve been missing some training sessions lately. I’m worried… Are you crying? What’s wrong?”

You sniffled. There were tears in your eyes that you hadn’t been able to hide. “Can you please just get Stephen for me? I need to talk to him.”

Wong nodded. “Of course. I’ll go get him for you.”

“Thank you,” you said, watching Wong leave.

A few minutes later, Stephen was at your door with raised eyebrows. “Wong told me you wanted me to come and talk to you.”

Wiping at your eyes, you let out a trembling breath. “Yes. You can come in. Please shut the door behind you.”

He followed your instructions and sat down next to you on the bed. “Why are you crying?”

Instant regret hit you. Why had you asked Wong to get Stephen? You still didn’t feel ready. You thought maybe ripping the band-aid off would have worked out in your favour, but there were so many butterflies in your stomach as you avoided his eyes.

“It doesn’t matter,” you muttered, your eyes all wet.

Stephen sighed. “Then why did you make sure Wong came and got me? You must have done that for a reason.”

You shook your head. “What’s the point? It’s not like you care, anyway.”

“Wow,” Stephen said quietly.

The room went horrifyingly quiet. So quiet it almost made you wince. You weren’t talking, Stephen wasn’t talking. The two of you sat there in pure silence and all you could do was wipe at your wet eyes.

“You know, I know I can be an asshole sometimes,” he muttered, “but at least I’m not completely heartless, Y/N. Will you just tell me why you’re so upset? There must have been a reason you called me in here, and there’s clearly something big on your mind if you’re crying. If you just told me…”

Finally, you met his eyes, and you were taken aback by the frown on his face. He looked worried. “I know you agreed that we weren’t supposed to talk about that night at the party… The night where we… You know…”

“Yeah…” Stephen murmured.

You couldn’t say it. You just grabbed the pregnancy test that you had kept tucked under the blankets and handed it to Stephen. You kept your eyes on him, taking in the pure shock on his face. He stayed quiet for a good minute or two before finally, in a shaky voice he said, “You… You’re pregnant.” He looked over at you. “With my baby?”

You nodded and you felt more tears forming. You could hear Stephen mutter out a low and deep “fuck” next to you.

“I’m really sorry,” you whispered. “This is all my—”

“You aren’t to blame for this, Y/N.”

A sharp gasp fell from your lips when you felt Stephen’s soft, warm hands on the sides of your face. He was forcing you to look at him, his eyes all soft and warm, and you couldn’t believe how gentle he had suddenly become. You also couldn’t quite believe that he had tears in his eyes. Could he be happy?

Stephen smiled at you. “Well, you being pregnant is partly my fault too.”

A smile stretched across your face before you laughed, tears rolling down your cheeks. Stephen used his thumbs to wipe at them, his touch soft and slow.

“Breathe for me,” he said. “Just take some deep breaths for me. Can you do that?”

You followed his instructions, your eyes closing as your breath slowed down to a more calm, gentle rhythm. That was helping. Sort of. But the nerves were still so ever-present and you just wanted to go back in time and fix everything.

“So, what do you want to do about this?” he asked. “I just want you to know that I will fully support your choice. Whatever choice that is.”

“I mean, I’ve always wanted to be a mother one day, but this is all so sudden. It’s scary and I still have to finish my training.”

“If you truly want to have this baby, then I’ll be here for you. I’ll support you and I’ll do everything I can to be the best father I can be. Being a dad wasn’t something I had ever really thought about, but I’m not afraid to try.”

You smiled at him. “Ain’t you too busy to have time to look after a baby?”

“Yes, but we’ll make it work.”

You couldn’t help it when you threw your arms around him, totally without warning. You squeezed at him as relief washed over you, a soft sigh leaving your lips. That had gone a lot better than you had expected. You could hear Stephen grunting a little as you held him.

“I know you’ll be the best dad,” you whispered. “I just know it.”

Stephen gave you a shocked sounding laugh before he finally circled his own arms around you, his hands pressed up against you tightly. “I’m glad you think so.”

Pulling away from him, you kept your hands on his shoulders. “I know so.”

Placing his hand on your thigh, Stephen gave you a comforting smile. One that made you truly feel like everything was going to be okay, that the future would be alright, and suddenly a whole less daunting. He rubbed at your thigh, the room comfortably quiet as your eyes stayed locked. A smile grew on your face simply from how sweet he was being. You loved seeing his kind, gentle side. It made your heart flutter. But then it hit you. Everyone would know you were pregnant. Very soon, you wouldn’t be able to hide it at all.

“Everyone’s gonna know,” you said. “What are we gonna do? What happens when everyone finds out? I don’t want you to get into trouble. That’s the last thing I want. Everyone’s gonna be in our business. I don’t want that either.”

He hummed, his hand still on your thigh. “I have some hoodies you can borrow as the baby grows. That should hide the bump. And if and when someone does finally find out… Well, I’ll just deal with that. I promise. Don’t stress about that. Let me handle all of that.”

“Thank you.” Leaning forward, you gave his cheek a kiss. You could have sworn his pale cheeks went a little red at the sudden act of intimacy. But he had just been so sweet, so sensitive, so caring that you couldn’t even stop yourself. You were pretty sure that you had never even seen him blush before. It felt like a bit of an accomplishment to be the first person to ever do it and the fact had your own face feeling all hot. But Stephen just looked so cute suddenly getting all nervous, and you smiled at the way his hand rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Well, I better let you get some rest then, right?” he asked, breaking the silence.

You nodded. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Thank you. For everything. For being so supportive and caring and kind. I really needed it.”

He smiled at you and got off the bed, making a slow walk towards your door. “You know, I’m not always an asshole. And I do care about people. I have the ability to care and I also have feelings,” he said, letting out a low chuckle.

Smiling at him, you nodded. “Noted.”

Stephen winked at you before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. You let out a long breath of air that you had been holding in for what felt like the entire conversation with Stephen. No, the entire day that gloomy feeling had been hanging over you, but that felt like it was slowly fading away by the second. You felt light, you felt happy, you felt like the future would be something good and bright instead of that darkness you had felt wash over you when you first looked at your pregnancy test in the morning.

You laid down in bed, resting your head against the pillows and letting out a long yawn. You definitely needed some rest, but there was some excitement flowing through you still. You’d be a mother and Stephen would be a father, and he’d be there for you every single step of the way, and there were definitely going to be a lot of them. And deep down, you knew Stephen would be a good dad. The best dad. The kind that would make you so proud and so happy.

You couldn’t wait.

[bakerstreethound]

Congrats on 5 years! 🎉

Can I get a Sherlock fluff with Sherlock is awake first, hes looking at the reader with utmost love. But he wakes up the reader with kisses and nuzzles.❤️ I adore the way you write & I cant get enough of soft Sherlock🍓✨

Thank you so much for sending this in. I finally completed the story (I apologize for taking so long) I hope you enjoy it! There is a bit of light smut at the end so 18+ only.

Light in the Darkness

Summary: Waking up in Sherlock's arms is one of the highlights of your day, and he shows you how much he adores you; how grateful he is to have you in his life.

All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound​ (Do NOT copy, repost, claim, or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03 under the same username)

Sherlock groans, wiping the remaining sleepiness from his eyes. Outside, the sun barely makes itself visible, the night holding fast to London, unrelenting in its grasp over the city. Sherlock yawns, reaching out to the other side of the bed, your sleeping form breathing softly lost in the throes of sleep. 

He smiles, his hand brushing softly along your side watching as you lean into his touch. Even your subconscious knows you’re at peace here with him and you snuggle further into him, allowing yourself a moment of extended comfort before reality pulls you into its clutches. 

Lips travel softly along your neck, the soft brush of curls following in their wake as gentle nuzzles replace the kisses, going back and forth simultaneously. A smile tugs at the corner of your lips and your eyes flutter open, met with the face of your husband looking at you with simmering eyes, half lidded, the sleep not fully leaving him, yet.

“Good morning to you, too Sherlock.” 

He melts against you, your fingers running through his curls, massaging them as he likes it, earning an appreciative groan. You continue at it, relishing in the soft noises he makes, not yet ready to let any of his cases take him from you. He looks content enough, his breathing slow and steady, much the opposite of your own when you wake up startled from nightmares.   

“That feels nice,” he gazes up at you eyes shimmering in adoration, overcome with unspoken emotions he can't fathom. It’s more than nice, something you could’ve conjured in a dream.

His arm laced around your waist pulls you impossibly closer, the feeling of his bare skin against yours a reminder of the night before, allowing you to admire the marks you left behind, mingled with the scars of a time long past you knew wouldn’t disappear from his skin, a permanent reminder of those times alone. But nothing like that will happen again, not with you by his side. 

You press a kiss to his cheek, pulling him from his thoughts, and what a sight you are, eyes wide looking at him with more adoration than he could possibly fathom. His hand reaches to you of its own accord, stroking your cheek softly.

You lean into his touch, his warmth kindling a spark inside you, firing into your heart, electricity rampant between you. He doesn’t want to look away, even as the sunlight barely parting through the ever-hanging fog beckons a new day, he doesn’t want it to begin.

He only wants to remain here with you for the moment, though his mind protests, his legs aching to run down the ramparts and alleyways of his beloved town. It will always be there for him. 

London isn’t you. 

And you are more than the city that soiled his name, his reputation, slandered him for a penny here and there to get the inside scoop. 

You are his, his to cherish and damn it you are one of the only ones he truly finds some semblance of the concept of love, the feeling of you next to him makes his head spin, fathoming the possibilities of how you both ended up this way together.

It is a bond of unbreakable trust between you, beautiful and understood looming and intertwined with truth. 

His forehead rests against your and you lean up into him, your arms wrapping around his neck, your hands carding through his beautiful mass of curls, twirling a rogue strand around an index finger. 

“You’re wonderful, Sherlock. What would I do without you?” Or, rather, what could you do to help his racing mind. His eyes dart back and forth, deeming to bury his face in your neck inhaling your scent.

What was he supposed to tell you?

This feeling inside him blooming further over the past year makes him nervous, even trying to voice how he feels won’t do it justice for what he can’t fully express. 

When his lips brush yours, his arms caging you to him, encompassing you in his safety and warmth, it’s all you can comprehend consume and breathe. It’s him all-encompassing and nothing more. Nothing feels more right than this moment. 

“Sherlock,” your voice falls from his lips in a perfect incandescent harmony, one he wants to breathe, to sing to create with you and you alone. 

Fiery desperation fuels the strength of his kiss drowning you further into the heat of his flames, the coolness of your water evaporating his lips in a breath of fresh air.

You don’t want it to end, despite the time, the hour, the plans for the day, all is obsolete and his hands brush under the seam of your shirt, slently asking for permission. No other words are needed, you welcome him without question, shivering as your form is revealed to him, inch by inch, each intake of breath anticipating his next move.

Lips grazing your neck, hands falling to your hips, stroking circles just so. Your hands dig into his back, clinging to him like a lifeline, not daring to let go.

His body pressing against yours, groaning at the friction makes you shiver in anticipation. The full feeling of his skin against your laid bare to him is nothing more than comforting. 

It’s home, it’s where you belong.

Only he got to see you in such a manner and you for him.  Such is the manner of things and how they’ll always be. You want no one else but him. His feelings are indescribable as his fingers work you slow, your mouths falling open at the sensation, digging into his back harder, begging and pleading his name. 

He loves you like this, would frame it if he could. Another memory another shot of the countless images in his mind palace he keeps. Memories of you always flutter near and you’re where he belongs, his northern star the compass pointing him home.

For London may be his city, but here with you in his arms, falling apart through his love, he is home at last. A beacon of light in the darkness.

******

[french-vanilla-in-the-clouds]

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It is finally Y/N's turn to walk down the aisle. Sherlock can't keep his eyes off of her. She is certain that the man waiting at the alter is the one she will spend the rest of her life with. Is he?

wedding fluff and angst

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Sherlock stood at the alter, hands clasped behind his back. To the wedding guests, his sharp stance would suggest ease. In truth, each deep breath he chased was laboured and unsure.

She was a vision in white. Precious in deep sheets of ivory.

Sherlock had never seen such perfection.

Y/N took measured steps down the aisle in time to the music's pace. A few steps further and the bride would become somebody's wife.

Sherlock promised himself he would not cry today. Not one tear, he swore. He was better than that. Still, as Y/N drew closer, step by step, he wasn't certain he could keep a dry eye.

He considered turning away or focusing on the flower arrangements set behind her shoulder. Anything to keep the strain in his chest at bay.

It was in that moment of deliberation that Y/N chose to wink at him. A small gesture, hardly visible behind her veil but even so, he caught it.

Propping his shoulders back, he chose to keep looking. Better to face the music than miss a flutter of her lashes or the quiver of her lip when she smiled.

Though his throat felt constricted and his chest heaved for breath, Sherlock Holmes could not turn away from the bride.

He registered John shoot him a grin from the left. He wasn't sure that he returned it.

"She's beautiful," John said in a hushed tone.

"She's beautiful," Sherlock repeated.

Three years earlier, Sherlock had met Y/N for the first time. Since then, she had stumbled through the flat each day, always with a shy smile and a soft spoken, "hello".

He loved her from the start.

Their highs and lows, they would experience together. When she threw her head back in laugher, teeth gleaming at something her lover said, Sherlock would see it. He often revealed his experiments to her, if only to see the wonder shine in her eyes.

Even after every lover's spat, Sherlock would wrap his arms around her and swear that things would look brighter in time.

He was right. By God, he was right. He had to be, for now, she stood just steps away from him, at the alter, incandescently happy in her wedding gown.

A slow tear trailed down Sherlock's cheek.

Y/N finally reached him and there was silence in the cathedral when the music at last, had died. 

"You're crying," she said.

Sherlock choked out a laugh that hurt his head. "I'm not," he replied. He tightened his lips together to ease the line of worry that had suddenly appeared on Y/N's brow.

"You're beautiful," he whispered. Closing his eyes, Sherlock shifted her veil aside. His hand trembled as he pushed it just far enough to kiss her cheek.

Though he gave her the softest of kisses, he felt a sharp stab in his heart, as arduous as the touch of his lips on her skin was brief.

He dropped her veil again and opened his eyes. "Every happiness," he said to her. His gaze steeled into her own. He hoped she wouldn't understand but she did.

Y/N nodded and her veil rustled. "Every happiness," she said back to him.

Sherlock clenched his jaw and feigned a smile for the wedding guests that stared from the pews. Then, he took Y/N's hand in his own and walked with her for three final steps.

John waited beside the priest.

Sherlock presented the groom with his bride and took his position as best man.

He was good at that, after all; standing on the outside, looking in. It's how he captured so many of his friends' most private moments in the small space of 221B.

Throughout the ceremony, the words, "every happiness" rang in Sherlock's mind.

When John and Y/N shared their first kiss as man and wife, Sherlock clapped along with the others but still, "every happiness" lingered at the tip of his tongue.

He simply couldn't manage to add the words, "I wish you..." at the start.

Things would be brighter in time, he told himself.

He knew it was a lie but for now, he clapped.

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I'm crying. I have reposted this thing like, 10 times. Last time, I swear. omg. please work. If you'd like to be tagged, let me know.

Thank you for your patience, literally everybody I'm tagging: @twisted-monster @starryeddie @the-chaotic-cow @turkisherlockian @aephereal ​ @andthevillainshallrises ​ @baby-bloos ​ @cookiemumster1 ​​ @eternal-silvertongued-prince ​ @bogginsreadings ​ @lumosouls @spencerrxids @serenity-lattes @msseijii @classickook @starstruck-loner @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson ​ @lucywrites02  @danzalladaggers @mrs-holmes @pytharuw @antsn @kabubsmagga @newtsniffles  @cemak​ @liv-olive-oliver @iamtrash-withrespect @asgards-princess-of-mischief

[thedaredevilsgirl]

False God

Priest!Stephen Strange X Reader

Warnings: Small discussion, SMUT: sex without a condom.

Hi, this is Ray. In this short excerpt we have Father Strange so in love with one of his devotees, since a little forbidden love never hurt anyone. This excerpt was taken from a story I've been planning for some time, inspired in Thou Shalt Not Covet by @daydreamtofiction and the song False God by Taylor Swift. Please let me know what you think and if you think I should start posting the first chapters of this story. I hope you enjoy it. -Forgive any grammatical errors, English is not my first language-

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... "I need an answer, God," the priest says, now on his knees, begging the Lord to respond and help him with his dilemma. "I just need an answer."

It is at that exact moment that Strange hears the heavy church door opening and closing, rising to look at the candlelit hallway that highlighted a silhouette so familiar to him.

Stephen feels his breath falter; the vision before him, walking toward him, was wicked and sinful for his thoughts, yet still seemed deliciously divine.

You were there, soaked from the heavy rain falling outside, the dress you had worn earlier at the festival now clinging to your body.

"It’s late," Stephen says, after gathering the courage to finally speak to you. "What are you doing here? You should be home by now."

"I need to confess," you explain, your voice trembling, perhaps a little nervous.

"It’s past midnight, the church is closed, come back tomorrow," he didn't mean to be harsh, but thought it was the only way to get you to leave quickly, though he was wrong.

"I need to confess," you repeat, making it clear you wouldn’t leave until you got what you wanted. "God’s house doesn’t close to a believer, no matter the hour. You, of all people, should know that, Father Strange."

Being called Father Strange by you hurt. Just days ago, you were close, perhaps even friends. He had grown used to hearing your sweet voice calling him Stephen, until he had given in to temptation during the trip to New York. Hearing you be so polite with him now reminded him of how greatly he had erred.

"You’re right," Stephen knew he would regret it, but he already felt so guilty for everything he had done with you that he couldn’t deny your wishes any longer.

The two walk silently to the large confessional in the corner of the church. He could hear everything even through the wooden wall, listening to your trembling breath as you prepared to speak, watching through the small window as you made the sacred sign of the cross.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," you begin.

"Tell me what happened, and we will decide your penance."

"I am engaged," the small reminder of this fact made Stephen’s heart ache in his chest. "And he is a good man, a really good man, but I don’t love him. In fact, I feel like I’ve never truly loved him, but my family adores him, and this union would be great for everyone."

"The church does not support a marriage built without true love," the priest says, trying to hide from both you and himself that, in reality, he was more than pleased to know of your lack of love for that idiot your family had chosen for you.

"I know, I know, but I must marry him; it’s what everyone expects of me, what they’ve always wanted for me, and I simply cannot ruin their plans," the pain in your voice and exhaustion was palpable, trying to be the perfect daughter and feeling like you had to carry the world on your shoulders. "So I must marry him, try to love him, respect him, and be faithful to him," you take a deep breath before continuing. "But that’s the problem, Father. I’m in love with another man. More than that, I lay with this man, and forgive my words, but damn, I loved every bit of it."

Stephen says your name in a warning tone. "I think we’d better not talk about this," he doesn’t have time to finish reprimanding you, as you quickly interrupt him.

"But the next day, he left me. He said the best night of my life had been a mistake that couldn’t be repeated, said we should stay away from each other. Suddenly, I lost a faithful friend, a confidant, and he broke my heart."

"Stop, please," he pleads.

"And I should be happy about that," your tone rises, emotions overwhelming you. "I should kneel before God and be thankful, go back to living my life as if none of this had happened, but I can’t."

"Stop," Stephen repeats, not knowing what he could do if this went on.

"I can’t, because all I can think about is him, his voice, his advice, his touch," the sound of your footsteps in the booth is audible. "And I don’t know what to do anymore. I find myself in the middle of the night wishing he were there with me, craving his kiss, touching myself wishing he would touch me that way, desiring every part of him, desiring you."

The priest felt he might explode at any moment, give in to his temptations, and worst of all, he wanted it. He had wanted it for a long time.

The curtain on his side of the booth suddenly opens, and he finds himself face to face with you, panting, still wet from the rain, tears streaking your face.

"So tell me, Father," you move closer to where he was sitting, "tell me what I should do when all I want is you?"

"This...this isn’t right," it was the first time in years Stephen found himself stammering with nervousness.

"I KNOW, DAMN IT, I KNOW," you shout, unable to contain yourself any longer. "But I can’t, I can’t resist anymore. I’ve tried, I’ve been trying since the day I met you, and I know you’ve been trying too. Don’t lie to me."

Your hand rests gently on his face, making him sigh. He had missed your touch so much in the past weeks.

"Please, don’t do this," Strange whispers, looking at you, his beautiful blue eyes now darkened by his dilated pupils. He does nothing to pull away, one of his hands moving directly to your waist.

"Tell me to leave, and I will. I’ll only step into this church again on my wedding day, and then you’ll never see me again. But I know you want me here, I know you want me."

He couldn’t resist anymore, not now, not ever.

Stephen pulls you tightly by the waist, guiding you to sit on his lap, finally kissing you again. This time was different; it wasn’t gentle. Instead, he poured all the longing he had felt into that kiss, aggressively holding you tightly as if you might slip away from his arms at any moment, his hand moving up the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair, deepening the kiss even more.

"I missed you," you whisper between kisses.

"I don’t think I could put into words how much I missed you."

His other hand slides down one of your thighs, removing the friction of the wet fabric of your dress from your body. The only thing you could feel in that moment was the immense pleasure of his body’s heat against yours, sighing in pleasure as his finger neared the wetness already forming in your panties.

You are quick to unzip his pants and touch his already hard cock.

Everything happens quickly, both of you burning with desire, just wanting to feel each other and quench the longing that had consumed you for weeks.

He doesn’t even bother removing your panties, just pushing them aside and making you slide down onto his cock, a long moan escaping your lips, tears of pleasure welling up in your eyes.

You move, experimenting with the different position, holding onto him even tighter, watching him and unable to contain your sounds of delight with each new movement.

Stephen feels himself nearing the edge, and he doesn’t care if he’s coming too quickly. All he could think about in that moment was how beautiful you looked riding him, the most divine vision he had ever seen in his life. If he were to go to hell for this, it didn’t matter—it was worth it.

He wraps a finger around your necklace, with its silver crucifix, pulling you in for one last kiss as the two of you reach your climax.

You rest your head on his shoulder, recovering, feeling his arms holding you tightly.

"Don’t leave me, Stephen, please," you whisper. "I need you."

"I won’t, not ever," his hand gently caresses your back, comforting you. "I promise you."

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@ironstrange1991 (You commented that I could tag you in the posts about Stephen, so I hope you like it )

Let me know if you want to be tagged in my next stories 💞

[annesthaeticc]

lovers rock | sherlock x fem!reader

| Sherlock Holmes x Fem!Reader

| one shot , song fic

| 961 words

| 'because love can burn like a cigarette, and leave you alone with nothing...' What Sherlock and Y/N had was beautiful, but it crashed and burned.

A/N okay bear with me it's short, but hey it's something, right? testing the waters asi hopefully hopefully come back into writing. let me know what you think!

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“Such a small world,” you quietly said and watched as the air escaped your lungs, echoing your words. The party inside was loud, but not loud enough for the silence outside was piercing yet calming. And so, he heard you. Slowly, he turned to see who spoke and found your silhouette, your shape outlined amongst the trees and the pillars.

Slowly, he walked towards you. Yet another mistake he was about to make. For all the choices he made that involved you, it led to one.

One. Big. Mistake.

Sherlock heard his heart thudding. Crashing and breaking in every step he made towards you. You sat there frozen, your eyes unblinking, or at least trying not to blink for you feared that if you do so, he might disappear.

Just like he did back then.

Sherlock sometimes wished he never pursued you, but here he was, about to do the very same thing. He never learned.

“Indeed it is.” he replied, his very perfect presence now crowding over you. His shadow embraced you and your eyes finally blinked only to find he was still there, standing in front of you.

He was taller. His face is more defined. His curls, curled to perfection. His perfume was the same, or is it? His lips fuller, more inviting than ever.

Sherlock noticed this, and cannot help himself but do the very same. You were perfect in every shape and form, as the day he met you. He committed crimes before, but his favorite might be the one he is about to make; to kiss you.

Silence passed by the small distance between you and him and it was almost deafening. You were waiting for him to say something. Something along the lines of “I’m sorry I left you…” And he was doing just the same, waiting for the words like “I’m sorry I couldn't wait for you…”

“Best man leaving early?” you finally said, shyly asking. He nodded and looked away.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, cutting you off before you could even say anything.

“I was invited, well not just me really, Ian and I were…” your voice trailed off as your husband's name left your lips. Again, he nodded.

Ah yes, Ian. Sherlock knew more than you. He is decent enough, this Sherlock could guarantee. But not decent enough to leave you on your own for days, even weeks or months on end while he was traveling the world on some sort of opera tour. Sherlock didn't care enough to dig for more details.

All he knew was deep seated anger and sadness.

And this resonated through the walls of the second floor of 221B Baker Street for months. Your wedding invitation sent for him lay hopeless on his desk, waiting to be written on to confirm his invitation. He was about to decline after finally making a decision that went on for weeks, only to find out it was pointless to respond because your wedding was already done.

And so, he threw the invitation in the fire. He watched as the intricate paper got swallowed by the flames, melting into ashes, into nothing. He was mesmerized by it. How something could be nothing because of the burning flames.

He was shaken from his thoughts when he saw your hand, holding a packet of cigarettes. You were offering him one and Sherlock accepted. You sat down again on the bench and he followed, allowing a few inches between you.

Quietly, the two of you smoked. Avoiding glancing or talking. You were caught up in a trance and were shaken out of it when you felt movement. Sherlock stood up and stepped on the cigarette. His shoe dug into the grass as the last of the embers glowed.

“Going somewhere?” you asked.

“Home.” he replied, his voice deep.

“I could drive you.” you offered.

“No thank you. I’ll catch a cab.” he replied, slowly walking away.

“Sherlock, wait, please—” you caught up with him and offered to drive him once more. He declined and you almost gave up.

His figure faded into the darkness when you cried out, “Sherlock, I'm sorry.”

Tears flooded your eyes and you couldn't help. It fell from your eyes, flowing down your face. Everything was blurry and you felt your hands shaking from the nicotine and from the adrenaline of your apology.

“It's been 12 years, Y/N,” he replied. “Why are you saying sorry now?”

“Because…”

“You will not tempt me to play one of your games, Y/N. Not this time. Not ever again.”

“Sherlock, please,”

“I'm sorry? Is that all you could think? You left me, Y/N,” he cried. And now you see his face. Anger, despair, and longing painted his face,

“You left me first!” you accused him. He really did.

“And yet you couldn't wait for me, couldn't you? All the promises I made—”

“Were gone as soon as you disappeared, Sherlock.”

“Oh ye of little faith!” he said, his voice booming.

“Sherlock,” you breathlessly begged. “I'm sorry.”

Sherlock heard you, and saw your eyes. He hated you for marrying someone else, but what he hated most is seeing you cry. He pulled out his handkerchief from his jacket pocket and dabbed your face, wiping away the tears. He pulled you into his embrace, just like he did back then. When your cries died down, he pulled away then planted a kiss on your temple.

“We would never work out. You're happier with him.” Sherlock said.

“I realized that what he had, was all that it was. Nothing more, nothing less. We burned too fast until we became nothing, Y/N.” he continued.

“I loved you,” you whispered.

“And I did too. So much.” he said, his voice breaking.

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[j-eryewrites]

Too good to be true

Anonymous Request: Maybe the reader is a university student and everyone around her is trying to woo her but they don't Sherlock is her boyfriend, so one day protective Sherlock appears and, shows them she's his.

MAIN MASTER LIST | REQS OPEN

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Jealous Sherlock, Major fluff, mentions of sex, Sherlock is in love with you. No use of y/n. 

“Guys, I swear on my life,” you chuckled as your finger crossed over your heart, “I’m taken.”

Your friends rolled their eyes at your declaration. 

“What?” 

“Babes,” Lucy said. “You keep telling us about this guy, yet….” She looked around the bar that your friend group was drinking at. “I don’t see him.”

“He’s just…” You began. 

“Married to his work. We know.” Miri said. She took a big swallow of her martini. “Well, I’m off to get another round.”

She quickly excused herself from the table and walked over to the bar. 

You sighed. It wasn’t your’s or Sherlock’s fault that there was a new serial killer in town. This one seemed to evade your boyfriend’s and John’s attempts of catching him at every turn. You your friends. knew what stakes his job had, including late nights and missed opportunities to introduce him to 

Lucy called your name. “You don’t have to keep lying just because all of us are taken. I promise, as your friends, we won’t judge you.”

To this, you rolled your eyes. When were your friends going to understand you were taken? 

“Plus,” Lucy continued. “I’ve heard that Garreth has an eye for you.”

You snickered. “Garreth, the heartthrob of our year. I call bullshit.”

Lucy nudged you on the shoulder. “Is it bullshit that he’s been staring at you this entire time we’ve been here?” Lucy’s grey eyes peered behind your shoulder. 

Quickly, you turned around and saw him: Garreth. His bright green eyes lit up the moment you saw him. You had to admit, he was attractive. He was tall, with curly red hair, and freckles all over his face. Not to mention, he was quite smart in all of his subjects. He flashed you a smile, one which you returned. It would have been rude not to, you thought. 

“See!” Lucy exclaimed. 

“See what?” Miri asked. Her hands were full as she juggled the new round of drinks. 

“Garreth’s been checking out, our friend here,” Lucy explained. 

“Again? He does that all the time. I swear to god that the man is in love with you,” Miri said in a teasing manner. 

“Guys,” You said sternly. “I’m taken which means I have eyes for only one person.”

“Sure,” Lucy and Miri responded at the same time. 

You took a shot. The fiery liquid traveled down your throat and spread warmth to your body. 

“Look,” Miri said. She herself took a shot of alcohol. “If we haven’t met this…”

“Genius, tall, beautiful man of a boyfriend,” Lucy finished. 

“Yeah that. If we haven’t met him by the end of the month. I’m setting you up on a date with Garreth,” Miri said sternly. 

You groaned. Your finger pinched the bridge of your nose tightly. This was going to be a long night. 

_________

It was a quarter after midnight when you walked into the doors of 221B. A bright light shone from on top of the stairs. The warm golden light could only mean one thing: Sherlock was awake. 

You smiled softly at the thought of your boyfriend, as your feet sluggish in movement carried you up the stairs. Sherlock appeared in the doorway watching your climb. It was as if he knew you were coming from a block away. He probably did. Sherlock had a way with those types of things. 

The first thing you did was envelope your boyfriend in a warm embrace. Something he gladly returned. The comfort you felt in his arms was unmatched: his heart beating underneath your ears as you rested your head against his chest, his soft hands cradling your lower back and hips pulling you taut to him, and how his head dipped to kiss the crown of your head. If you died right now, you were sure that heaven would be in Sherlock’s arms. 

The two of you stood at the top of the stairs holding each other. Your bodies swayed back and forth in a slow dance. It had been a rough day, it seemed, for the both of you. 

“Any luck with the case?” You inquired, pulling away from the hug. 

Sherlock shook his head. “Not as much as I would have liked. We’ve narrowed down the possible location of the next murder, but that’s all. He seems to have avoided our every plot to catch him.”

“You’ll solve the case and catch him. I believe in you,” you comforted. 

Sherlock smiled and whispered your name. “If only the world revolved around your belief in me, I’d have solved the case by now.” 

Then Sherlock brought his lips to yours in a gentle manner. He was savoring the kiss. It was one of the only things he cherished. Your lips could bring him out of the grey haze he often found his mind in. He loved the feeling of you flushed against him. He loved you. 

“Now,” he said with a hand on your lower back leading you into his flat, “mind telling me what’s on your mind.”

You sighed and shook your head. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing if it’s bothering you, darling.” 

An electric wave shot down your spine. Even after months together, you still weren’t used to that nickname. The things you would do to have him whispering it in your ear like a prayer. 

“You were supposed to meet my friends tonight, Sherlock.” You said. 

“I know, but Lestrade found another body and…”

“The case is important and I understand, it’s just my friends don’t believe me.”

“Believe you?” Sherlock asked. His brow raised. 

“They don’t think you’re…” Your voice grew quiet. “...real. They think I’m making you up.”

Sherlock reached out and laid his hands on your forearms, running them up and down in a comforting manner. He stepped closer. His piercing blue eyes are on you. You had his full attention. 

“They gave me a vendetta. If they haven’t met you by the end of the month, they're going to set me up with Garreth.”

Sherlock’s jaw clenched. “Garreth? Who’s…”

You cut him off before he could finish. “Just a guy in my year. Apparently, he’s in love with me or something.” Your eyes lowered as you muttered those last words. 

Sherlock’s hands stopped tracing your arms. You could hear Sherlock’s entire body grow tense and his breath becomes slow and calculated. 

“They just need to meet me?”

You nodded, too embarrassed to say anything. 

“I’ll meet your friends. Now tell me about Garreth, it seems I need to have a word with him.” Sherlock began. 

You chuckled and pulled him down for a kiss to silence him. 

Sherlock’s mind was made up as you kissed him. He’d let Garreth know you were his. He’d make your friends into believers. If there was any truth in this corrupted world, it would be that Sherlock loved you and that he was yours and you were his. 

________

“Next class, I would have liked you all to have read chapters sixteen and seventeen,” your professor announced to the class. “These chapters are crucial for the discussion, so please come prepared. Class dismissed.”

It was as if a wave of vitality drowned the class. Students, who were moments before drooling onto the desks and their eyes closed, now shot to life. They stuffed their computers and textbooks into their backpacks. 

As you gathered your things at your desk, you noticed a shadow fall over your figure. You peered up to glance at the person. It was Sherlock. 

You looked around confused. “Why are you…” 

“Thought I’d come to visit my girlfriend and take her out to lunch. Seemed to have a break from the case for a moment,” Sherlock replied. The corner of his eyes crinkled as a grin flashed across his face.

You couldn’t help but match his smile. It really was contagious. “Perfect. I know just the place to eat,” you said. “And it just so happens my friends are working there.”

There was a sparkle in Sherlock’s eye. “Perfect indeed.” He extended his elbow out to you. You linked your arm with his and led him to the cafe for lunch.

________

“Miri, the girl’s got three more days in the month,” Lucy said. “You can’t set her up on a date with Garreth.”

“Oh, and how much do you want to bet that her boyfriend will magically turn up in those three days,” Miri shot back. Lucy sighed in defeat. “That’s what I thought…I just worry about her. She needs to go and find her person. I care about her too much. Plus, Garreth is a big sweetheart and everything she’d ever want in a man.”

“I care about her to Miri, but…” 

A bell rang from above the door. The sight left both Miri and Lucy’s eyes to bulge out of their heads. The two of them had to do a double take. Once they certified with their brains that what was in front of them was real, they couldn’t help but squeal. 

There stood their best friend, you. What the real sight was the man linked to your arm. They ran through the description you had given them of the mysterious man. 

He was tall, check.

He had a head of gorgeous dark curls, check. 

Cheekbones that could cut, check. 

Entrancing ocean blue eyes, check. 

A smile that puts the greatest celebrities to shame, check.

A gentleman, check, 

Absolutely and irrevocably in love with you, check, check, CHECK. 

“It’s him!” Lucy and Miri whispered to each other. 

“Hi, Luc and Miri,” you chirped. You lifted a hand and pointed to Sherlock. “This is my boyfriend, Sherlock.” The two women eyed you and Sherlock. They were doing a horrible job of hiding their excitement. “Sherlock, these are my best friends, Lucy and Miri.” 

Immediately the two stuck out their hands to shake Sherlock’s. 

“Damn, you have nice hands. Nice fingers as well,” Miri blurted. She sent you a wink to which your face flushed with embarrassment. 

Sherlock chuckled unsure of what to say. “Nice to finally meet you two.” He flashed your friends an awkward grin. They couldn’t help but ogle at Sherlock. 

You cleared your throat. “Can we order, or are you just going to stand there and stare at my boyfriend,” you teased. 

Now it was your friend’s turn to be embarrassed. 

“Right,” Lucy cried. “What can I get you two?”

The two of your ordered lunch and then found an open seat in the cafe. Sherlock sat with his back facing your friends, which allowed you the full view of their gawking. Miri kept winking and making sexual references with her fingers. Lucy just flashed you a thumbs-up before preparing your order. 

“Sorry about my friends,” You whispered to Sherlock. The evidence on your cheeks let Sherlock know just how embarrassed you were. 

“It’s alright,” he said in an attempt to soothe your embarrassment. 

Again the bell above the door rang long and clear. In stepped Garreth. He had his backpack swung over his shoulder and a witty smile adorning his face. 

“Afternoon, ladies!” He greeted Lucy and Miri. 

“Hey there Garreth,” Miri replied as she winked at him. 

Sherlock’s ears perked up. He turned to look at you. “Garreth?” 

You looked over to the man who just entered the cafe and then back at Sherlock. Your boyfriend had a look on his face. A wave of butterflies was released into your stomach. Sherlock raised his brow up and had a smirk on his face. 

As Garreth noticed your presence and uttered your name, Sherlock grabbed onto the collar of your shirt and yanked you to him. His lips met yours in a possessive kiss. It was strong and secure and much brasher than you were used to receiving from Sherlock in public. The man tended to stick to more subtle ways of showing others that you were his: a hand around your waist, his figure standing not far from yours, a glare to anyone who dare look your way as if their eyes didn’t deserve to see you in all your glory. 

As Sherlock slipped his tongue into your mouth, dancing alongside yours, Lucy and Miri gasped. You could just imagine the look on their faces. You did tell them he was a good kisser after all and now they just got front-row seats to the show. 

You had to pull back from Sherlock. Your breath was heavy as your lungs remembered what it was like to breathe. From the looks of it, Sherlock would have kept kissing you until he passed out and you’d let him. You let out a giggle seeing your friend’s amazed faces. Sherlock pecked your cheek lightly as a small reminder. 

“Someone’s jealous…,” You giggled. 

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “I’m just letting the world know what’s mine,” he said in a low voice only you could hear. 

“Well, from what I could tell, you’ve only shown three people. If you want to show the whole world, you’ve got a lot of work to do,” you winked. 

Sherlock smiled. “It’s a good thing I like kissing you among other things.” There was a suggestive look in his eyes. 

You gasped slightly and hit him on the shoulder. “My friends are right behind you Sherlock.”

“I know.” 

You rolled your eyes as Sherlock turned around and asked your friends to take lunch to go. He explained that he needed you for the afternoon. Lucy and Miri played along and quickly finished your order. They shoved in your hands and pushed you out the door whispering words of playful encouragement. 

“You scored the lottery,” Lucy whispered to you. 

You smiled and looked at Sherlock. You really did. Sherlock was everything you could ask for and more. 

Once again, the two of you linked your arms together and scurried back to Baker Street. Your takeout left on the counter was forgotten. Unlike that afternoon, when Sherlock showed the world again and again that he was yours and you were his.

_____

Tag List: @bartokthealbinobat @astudyinlaura

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_______

[softestqueeen]

i can't do this anymore!

pairing: bbc!sherlock x gn!reader

summary: When Sherlock overhears you talking on the phone, he thinks you're going to leave him.

warnings: nothing really, just miscommunication and a little angst

a/n: hey, this is my first ever fanfic so please be a bit patient with me. English is not my first language, I apologise for all the mistakes I've probably made.

Sherlock and you have been in an relationship for almost two years and so far everything was going great. Well, at least that’s what Sherlock thought.

Until one day, when he overheard you on the phone talking to your best friend, Mary. It wasn’t his intention to eavesdrop, but you looked upset while talking and he just wanted to assure he wasn’t the cause for it.

You were on the phone ranting to your best friend about wanting to quit your job. It didn’t make you happy anymore and you’ve already applied for new jobs. You didn’t tell Sherlock yet, because he was very busy with one of his cases and didn’t want to bother him with something that could wait.

“I’ve noticed that in these past few weeks I wasn’t happy anymore with this situation. I can’t keep on doing this, it’s just too much. So the only right thing to do, is end it. Once and for all.”, you told her.

Hearing this, Sherlocks heart shattered. He thought you were happy with how things were in your relationship, but apparently that was not the case. He couldn’t hear what Mary said on the other end, but he could hear very clearly that your plan was to end it tomorrow.

He couldn’t lose you. You were his everything, his reason to live. You made his life worth living and managed to break down the walls he built to protect himself. He trusted you with his life, so just thinking about you wanting to break up with him, nearly send him spiralling.

He didn’t know what to do or say so hedecided to wait until tomorrow and then beg you to not break up with him. Even if he’d have to get on his knees and beg. Alone the thought of you leaving made tears well up in his eyes.

He quickly composed himself, because he could hear you saying goodbye to your best friend. Acting like he was in his mind palace when you entered, gave him some time to think about what to say tomorrow.

“Hey Sherly”, he could hear your joyful voice call for him, but choose to ignore it, keeping up with the act. You were not happy at all with Sherlock ignoring you. After all the time you’ve spent with the consulting detective you knew when he was really in his mind palace and when he was just pretending.

With a frown on your face, you bent down to be at eye level with him. You crossed your arms and lifted an eyebrow. The moment you lifted your brow you could already hear the defeated sigh from your boyfriend.

“Hello, love”, he greeted you with a tight lipped smile. Immediately a crease started to form between your brows. “Is everything alright, honey?”, you asked him. “Yes, everything is just fine, love. I just have to.. uh.. go to a crime scene. Exactly, John called, he needs my help. Now. Don’t wait up for me.”, while explaining his not really convincing plan he put on his signature coat and his scarf.

He kissed you on the side of your head and left without another word. You could just mumble a short “take care” before you heard the door to the busy streets of London shut closed.

Not going to lie, you were worried. Why was he acting so weird all of the sudden? He seemed almost distant. Normally, when something is on the genius’ mind he talks to you. You’ve made a lot of progress since you first got together and talk about almost everything. You knew each other so well, you could always tell what’s on his mind, even if he doesn’t like to admit that. It’s his own fault, if he teaches you to deduct people. But in this case you wanted to wait until he came to you with his worries. Whatever it was it seemed to really bother your boyfriend.

Sherlock wandered around aimlessly before he returned to Baker Street. He wasn’t ready to face you just yet, so he did something he rarely did. He visited his house keeper Mrs. Hudson. He was that desperate.

He knocked twice, before the elderly woman opened the door with a surprised smile on her lips. “What do I owe the honour to, Sherlock? You never come to visit me.”, she ushered him in and set on a kettle.

“Uhm… I fear y/n wants to break up with me.”, he mumbled, not daring to look Mrs. Hudson in the eyes. “Oh, Sherlock! What makes you believe that?”, she wanted to know from the detective, that has grown into her heart and is now like a son to her. She was worried, she knew how much you meant to him.

On the other side she also knew how much you loved him and doubted that you wanted to end things. Sherlock told her what he overheard of your conversation. “But Sherlock, are you really sure that’s what she meant? Couldn’t she have been talking about her job or something?”, she wanted to know.

He just shrugged and sipped his tea.

“I think you should go and talk to her, Sherlock. Maybe it’s all just a big misunderstanding.”, she reasoned. Still unsure of himself he nodded and thanked her for the advice. “Anytime, Sherlock, anytime.”

He went back into the flat you two shared, first as flatmates and now as lovers. He couldn’t see you anywhere and softly called out your name. He went into his bedroom, which the two of you mostly share and found you underneath the blanked, hugging his pillow. The dried tears on your face made his heart shatter.

He wasn’t sure what to do, thinking he messed up. He undressed and put on his pyjamas, but instead of joining his lover in the bed, he went back to the living area and settled on the couch. It wasn’t comfortable but he couldn’t sleep anyways. At around 4 o’clock in the morning his exhaustion won and he fell into a dreamless slumber.

You woke up to an empty bed. It wasn’t something new, but you worried about your boyfriends whereabouts. A lot.

You got up and found him asleep on the couch, looking incredibly uncomfortable, his tall frame not fitting into the small space provided. You started to rub your hand up and down his arm to wake him up.

Slowly he opened his blue-green eyes and looked into your e/c eyes. He sat up, stretched and then looked at you like a kicked puppy. If you looked close enough you could even see a pout forming on his plump lips.

“Sherlock, what’s wrong?”, you asked cautiously.

After a very pregnant pause he chocked out, “Please don’t leave me. I- I- I just cant live without you, you are my everything!”

You looked at the tear that rolled down his face, taking a path over his high cheekbone to the corner of his lip, with utter shock and heartbreak.

“Oh darling, what makes you believe I want to break up with you?”, you sat down next to him, cupped his cheek and used the pad of your thumb to wipe away a new tear that threatened to roll down his face. “I love you so much, I would never leave you!”

Sherlock released a shaky breath and leaned forward, making your foreheads touch. He cupped your face and whispered with his eyes closed, “I thought you’re going to leave me. I- I was so scared I-“ “Shh, it’s alright, darling. I’m not going to leave you. You’re stuck with me now.”

The last sentence made the detective smile. You furrowed your brows. “What made you think I was going to leave you?”, you wanted to know. He looked hesitant and then admitted, “I heard you talking to Mary about how fed up you were and that you wanted to end things. I assumed that you were talking about us.” He avoided looking at your eyes.

You chuckled a bit but stopped when you saw his puzzled expression. “I want to quit my job. I’m not unhappy with us, silly, I’m unhappy with my boss and my colleagues. I haven’t told you about it because you’ve been so busy with your case.”, you reassured him, “Why did you eavesdrop on our conversation in the first place?”

“You looked worried and I wanted to be sure that I’m not the cause of it. I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.”, he confessed. You knew that when he dropped the words ‘I’m sorry’ he really meant it.

“It’s alright, you meant it well.”, you told him, “I wish you would have been honest with me from the beginning, but I could have asked you what’s going on when I noticed you acting weird. From now on we know better.”

“You are right. As always.”, even though he whispered the last part, you’ve still heard it.

With a soft smile you stood up, “Come on darling, let’s go to bed.”

He immediately stood up, picked you up bridal style and took you to his bedroom.

He was just glad, he still gets to call you his love.

a/n: if you liked this, please leave some notes! you can now also request fics on my page!

[geeky-politics-46]

Hope

Pairing: Doctor Stephen Strange x Reader, America Chavez

Summary: You & America watch Kamala's DNC acceptance speech.

Warnings: Not much it’s mostly fluff. Story is political in nature. A little inspiration from Rogue One.

I'm back, baby! This is just a short little blurb, but there will be more & longer new stuff soon.

You knew you were staring at the future in more ways than one. Your heart was feeling lighter, and the dark storm clouds of what could be receding in your mind. The sunshine warmth of hope once again present as you watched the awe struck look on America's face as she watched Kamala Harris accept the Democratic nomination for President of the United States.

A woman, and not just any woman, but a woman of color, standing poised and ready to lead the country. You remember watching Hillary accept the nomination in 2016 with a sense of solidarity and the thought of “it's about damn time” planning in your head, but even then, it didn't feel like this. Why was it different this time? Why was the thought of a female president so energizing?

Maybe it's because now you and Stephen essentially had a teenage daughter to raise. Or by New York's phrasing, that you were legal guardians of. Maybe it's because of the fall of Roe and having to once again fight for rights that had been legally protected for nearly half a century. Maybe it's because of all the other rights and freedoms that were now openly under attack from the right and the Supreme Court. Maybe it's because you were technically a childless cat lady, at least by the other parties own wording, and you wanted to make damn certain Vance knew you did in fact have a direct stake in where your country was going. You just wouldn't be going back to the past.

You were both unaware of the sorcerer standing in the doorway, carefully studying both of you. His movements towards the loveseat you were sat in eventually making you turn your attention to him. A soft, sweet smile on his face as his lowered himself to sit next to you. Immediately putting an arm up for you to settle in under. Your body instinctively curling into his as your attention drifted back to the television. 

The sound of applause and cheers erupted from the convention crowd, and balloons came toppling down on both the stage and the crowd. Kamala Harris now stood with her family, her husband, and two step-children on one side of her. On the other side was her vice presidential pick, Tim Walz, and his family. Smiles and laughter filling the screen.

Their joy was palpable, and their smiles were contagious. America wore a matching one, and now so did you. Even Stephen was smirking as he watched you both. 

He leaned in and placed a kiss on the side of your head, brushing your hair back to see your face clearly. Seeing the wheels turning in your mind, he couldn't help but posit a question. A serene smile on your face as you moved to snuggle into Stephen's side.

“What's going on in there?”

Without looking away from your adopted daughter and her elation, you answered. 

“Hope.”

--------------------------------

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[fallingforunrealisticromance]

Hold me - Sherlock x fem!reader

Request: "Can you one with the bbc sherlock x female reader? Maybe one where sherlock is touched starved but doesn't realise it. And then he meets the reader and it's all fluffy at the end please? xx"

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2156

A/N: I'm so sorry i haven't been posting!! I've had a hectic month and not much time to write but i'm getting back to it!! If you have requested something, I'm getting round to them slowly but surely. Thank you all <33

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---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sherlock never realised how touch starved he was. It was never really something he ever paid any attention to. In his mind, physical affection was yet another unimportant custom most normal people liked to spend their time searching for. He couldn’t be bothered with that. That was, until he met you.

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

“Stop talking Anderson, it lowers the IQ of the entire street.” Sherlock hissed.

You let out a small laugh as Sherlock, slammed the door in his face. John and Lestrade both turned to look at you.

“Sorry. It’s just- well he’s not wrong.” You said, shrugging your shoulders.

“I very rarely am.” Sherlock replied without looking over at you.

You rolled your eyes “Okay, no need to get all cocky Mr detective.”

You walked past him, resting your hand on the shoulder, before quickly taking removing it. “Sorry.”

Sherlocks brow furrowed. “Why are you sorry?”

“I know you don’t like people touching you.” You replied nonchalantly.

Sherlock went to speak but the words died on his tongue. So instead, he opted for a sharp nod before turning his attention back to the dead body in front of him. He had actually rather liked the feeling of your fingers running along his arm, even if it was only for a second. You were right, normally he would hate people touching him. But he found himself wishing that you would do it again, only this time leave your hand there for maybe a while longer.

“Sherlock.” John’s voice snapped the detective from his thoughts.

“Hmm?” He mumbled.

“You found anything? You’ve been crouched there for a few minutes now.”

Sherlock stood up, brushing the dirt from his coat.

“It was her husband. He killed her.” Sherlock relayed to Lestrade before promptly leaving the room.

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

“Well. That’s one way to get home.” You said breathlessly as you rested against the wall of 221b.

“Yeah next time we have a case sherlock, can we not chase the killer through London on foot? They have cabs for a reason.” John panted, flopping down on the sofa.

“A cab would have been far too slow Watson.” You answered, smiling at him. “However, I have to agree with him sherlock, less running next time yeah?” You said to the detective who was leaning on his desk.

“Oh I don’t know, I think it adds to the fun.” Sherlock said with a tight-lipped smile.

“Did sherlock Holmes just make a joke?” John asked, staring at you in shock.

“Oh god the bloods rushed to his head” You replied jokingly. Sherlock just scoffed at the pair of you.

“Right, it’s been fun boys but I should probably be off.” You went to take a step forward without noticing your shoelace was undone.

You tripped over, falling forward expecting to crash into the hard floor beneath you. What you weren’t anticipating was sherlock catching you. His arms wrapped around your stomach as your hands clung to his arms. His heartbeat increased rapidly as you rested against him for a moment, trying to regain your footing. You stood up still clutching his arms.

“That’s embarrassing.” You laughed looking down at your shoes, seemingly unaware of sherlocks hands planted firmly just above your hips.

Sherlocks head was spinning. The feeling of your body pressed against him was something he quite enjoyed, even if it was in an awkward position.

You patted sherlocks shoulder.

“Thanks mate, that could’ve been a lot more painful.” To sherlocks disappointment, you moved out of his grasp in order to tie your shoelace.

John furrowed his brow as he noticed the hint of longing held in sherlocks gaze before it quickly faded.

“Yeah. No problem. See you later.” He said before promptly leaving to go to his room.

You watched him leave, rather confused by his rapid exit. “Did he seem a bit off to you?” You asked john.

“Yeah a bit.” He replied honestly.

“Well check up on him, make sure he’s alright yeah?” John nodded at your words. “Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow probably. Bye Watson.” And with that you left the infamous flat.

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

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­Since then, sherlock found any excuse he could to have some form of contact with you. Whether it was standing that little bit closer to you in order for his arm to brush yours every so often, or letting you hold his hand if you were ever scared. Your touch provided him with a sense of comfort he never knew he’d needed.

Currently you were sat in your flat, curled up under some blankets on your sofa. There had been a lot of draining cases lately and while you wouldn’t swap your job for anything else – it really took a toll on you. You’d barely slept over the past week and when you had it had been a restless, disturbed night. Your body felt as if it was going to shut down any minute soon and you were honestly hoping it would as it might allow you to finally get a decent rest. However, as this is your life and nothing is ever that simple, your phone began to ring. Reluctantly you pulled your hands out from the bundle of warmth you had created and lifted the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Y/n hi its Greg.”

You shot up. You loved Greg but he never called for a good reason, something was always wrong. You didn’t have it in you for another case right now, but that was what you were paid for. Your wellbeing would just have to wait.

“What is it this time? Please don’t tell me it’s another murder” You replied.

Lestrade chuckled stiffly. “Er no it’s not a case as such.” He fell quiet.

“Well?” You prompted. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s sherlock. He’s well I don’t really know.” Greg replied.

That did nothing to calm your nerves, if anything it set you more on edge. “

Is john with you?” You asked.

“Uh yeah, I’ll pass you to him.” You heard a small conversation before john’s voice came through the phone.

“Hi y/n”

“What’s wrong with him?” You asked, heart beating rapidly.

You knew he had issues with drugs and if tonight was a bad night, you needed to know. You cared immensely for the detective.

“Well nothing I don’t think. It’s weird, I’m pretty sure he’s gone into his ‘mind palace’ but he just keeps saying your name.” John explained.

You fell silent. Why would sherlock be saying your name in his mind palace? Actually why was he saying your name at all?

“My name?” You repeated.

“Yeah I don’t actually have a clue what’s going on, could you come over?” John asked.

“Um yeah. Yeah I’ll be on my way.” You hung up the phone before scrambling to get off of the sofa. This was really strange, but you just needed to know that he was okay.

After about 20 minutes you found yourself knocking at 221b as you’d done many times in the past, but tonight felt weird. Mrs Hudson opened the door, beaming at you.

“Oh y/n! How lovely to see you” She said pulling you in for a hug.

“Hi Mrs Hudson. I’m here for…well I don’t actually know. John asked me to come.” You explained.

“Yes sherlock’s been acting very strange tonight.” You raised your eyebrows at her. “Stranger than normal my dear. He was getting really worked up about a case earlier and he was doing his normal anticks. You know, pacing, shooting my wall, yelling at john – the normal. But he just went quiet, john said he went to his mind palace whatever that is. Apparently he keeps asking for you.” She explained.

“Yeah john said.” You replied quietly, looking up at the stairs.

“Well you better go up there dear.” She patted your back before returning to her flat.

You took a deep breath before making your way up the stairs. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous, but your hands were shaking tremendously. You pushed the door open, seeing sherlock, sat in his chair with his eyes closed.

“Hi” You said quietly. John and Lestrade greeted you. “So I’m here but what exactly am I meant to do?” You asked looking over at the detective.

“Not a clue. Just talk to him?” John suggested.

You sighed. “okay.” You made your way over to him. “Hi Sherloc-“

But before you could finish your sentence, the detective jumped up from his chair wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulled you into his body, holding you tightly. His head fell to your shoulder, burrowing it in the crook of your neck. That was the last thing you’d expected him to do. You stood wide eyed, your arms hanging either side of you. This was not like sherlock at all, not that you minded his sudden display of affection – but it worried you slightly.

“Hold me. Please.” He whispered, so only you could hear. His breath against your neck sent a shiver down your spine, your heart racing. He sounded so desperate; it almost made you cry.

“Okay.” You said softly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, slowly running your fingers through the base of his curls.

He sighed, and almost melted into your touch as you did so. You could feel his hands clutching your shirt, as if he was trying to calm himself down.

“You’re okay sherlock. I’m here, your safe.” You mumbled softly.

You had no idea what he was feeling right now, but it felt like that’s what he needed to hear. The two of you stayed there for a while, you just allowing Sherlock to do what he needed. John and Lestrade stood behind you, staring at the sight before them in utter shock. After a moment, sherlock pulled his head up to face you without releasing his hold on your waist. Your eyes scanned his own, trying to figure him out. His face was flushed red from having rested on you for so long

“Hello.” He said gently.

You smiled at him, arms still loosely around his neck.

“Hi.” You replied.

Slowly, sherlock reached a hand up to cup your face. His thumb moved gently across your cheek as he looked down at you. You were almost certain your heart was about to explode.

“Why won’t you get out of my head?” He questioned, more to himself than anyone else.

“I’m…sorry?” You offered not entirely sure what to say back.

He smiled at you.

“Don’t be. I’m more than okay with it. It’s just…strange. I’ve never craved another person before. But you.” His voice trailed off as he stared at you like you were the most precious thing to walk the earth. “You are all I think about. All the time. I want to be with you, near you. I want to touch you all the time.”

You were speechless.

“Not even necessarily in a sexual way. But just, feel you. You seem to calm me in a way nothing ever has before.”

You could feel tears threatening to fall. You weren’t sure exactly why, but just the raw emotion sherlock was willing to show you was overwhelming. In the best way possible.

“I’m glad I can help.” You voice was quiet, barely audible, but you knew he’d heard you.

“So can I-“ John’s voice interrupted.

“Get out. The pair of you.” Sherlock snapped, not even looking at them.

You laughed slightly, turning your head to face them. “I’d listen to him lads. I think I’ll be okay.”

Greg looked utterly baffled but didn’t question it.

“You do know I live here?” John said.

“Well go talk to Mrs Hudson?” You suggested, feeling sherlock becoming rather annoyed.

“Go.” He demanded.

With that, they left the flat. Sherlock gently pulled your head to look back at him. His eyes flickered down to your lips ever so slightly.

“I want to try something.” He said softly.

“Okay.” You replied, knowing exactly what he was going to do. He lowered his face to yours until you could feel his breath fanning across your lips.

“Are you sure-“

“Sherlock just kiss me.” You begged.

Without any hesitation, he crashed his lips against yours. He held your face gently as if he was scared, he would lose you while pulling you impossibly closer. His lips were soft as they melted against yours. Your heart was hammering in your chest, you were sure it would break free. Reluctantly, you pulled away to breathe, but Sherlock kept a firm grip on you as he rested his forehead against yours.

“I don’t know what this is.” He spoke softly, not wanting to ruin the moment. “But I do know, I don’t want to be apart from you. Will you stay with me?” He asked, eyes full of hope.

You grinned up at him as you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Until you order me away.” You replied happily, before leaning forward to kiss him once again.

[iamsherlocked1479]

Jealousy

Description: You don’t want to get caught up in a friends with benefits situation with Sherlock so you attempt to go on a date. Key word attempt.

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: 18+ p in v sex, oral (male recevng) kinda shaming but not too bad.

——————————————————————————

Your intentions were never to get caught up in a friends with benefits situation with anyone, especially not with someone as peculiar as Sherlock Holmes, but that was before the worst and probably most stressful days of your lives. He had to admit he couldn’t solve a case and you barely got through the day while managing to keep your job after the mess up with authors and the books they had written, honestly there needs to be less people with the surname smith in the world. You had both found yourself collapsed and slightly drunk on the sofa of 221B, you’re not denying it wasn’t good sex. Because in all honesty it was probably the best sex you’d ever had and he clearly enjoyed it because he kept coming back for more, to be specific exactly twenty three times in the space of three and a half weeks. It was becoming clear he never really was stressed every time, but how can you reject an offer from a man so good looking. You’d always been fond of his dark curls, baby blue eyes and especially the way he sirts clung around his biceps. But you hadn’t looked at him that much? Well that was a lie you found yourself staring at him whenever you could, and he enjoyed it, especially when he mentioned it during the deed. But now it has to stop, you have a date and you’re walking down the stairs in the nicest dress you could find, because you like this guy, and that's when he saw you.

“Can we have a moment?” He stood up eyes already scanning your body

“I told you last time was the last time.” You sigh picking up your keys 

“Why?” He moans almost like a child

“Because it's not good for roommates to be in a friends with benefits situation. It causes problems.” You weren’t exactly lying, every American rom-com had explained that.

“Fine then, what if we weren’t friends? I never liked you much anyways, there's more to life than books you know. One has to open their eyes to broader horizons” he sighed moving in front of the doorway

“Good to know, now one has to go, I have a date.” You mock him as you push past. You feel his hand on your wrist stopping you in your tracks, his touch burned your skin, your body craves him.

“A date why would you do that to yourself?” He asks

“What do you mean?” You say pulling your wrist away subtly checking it to see if he really did burn you, of course he didn’t.

“Why would you want to go to a semi decent restaurant and conversate with a person you barely know and hope that they’re not just looking for a one night stand?” 

“Because I barely know him and he’s a sweet guy who can pick out a good restaurant. How would you know anyways, you’re afraid of commitment.” You snap back but he pulls you again, you can tell by the look in his eyes, somehow you were going to pay for that.

“Don’t make me order you.” His tone depended and his eyes were filled with lust. You rolled your lips together before you said your reply

“I’d like to see you try.” You gulped, never letting go of your eye contact. He let go biting the side of his cheek as he watched you leave the building, he was angry but he felt the need to ruin that confidence. He knew by the end of the night he’d have you on your knees one way or another begging for him.

———————————-

Somehow despite the slight detour of that conversation you had managed to make it to the restaurant on time. Jamie was already there dressed in a smart shirt, fitting for the restaurant you were at. His eyes lit up when he saw you.

“Hey i’m so glad we can finally do this” he stood up and made his way to your side of the table and pulled out your chair.

“Such a gentleman” you laughed as he tucked you into the table. You open the menu and he surprises you with ordering a bottle of wine for the table.

“So how is work?” He asks 

“Oh you know same old same old” you sigh

“Yeah but did you close the Anderson deal?” He pressed on

“Unfortunately not yet, but let's leave work at the door.” You ask

“For now sure.” He smiles, the rest of the date was fairly normal with all the usual things being asked. Your gaze switches from picking at your sub average food towards the man entering the building. Oh god, you could recognize those curls from a mile away. For fuck sake Sherlock. The waiter smiles warmly at him as she leads him to the table exactly next to yours.

“I think- is that, Sherlock Holmes?” Jamie exclaims

“Yup” you sigh “unfortunately so” you head falls into your palms

“Oh I didn’t expect to see you here!” He wears a fake smile as he sits down at his table shuffling his seat.

“You two know each other?” Jamie asks excitedly 

“Yes we do.” Sherlock replies looking at the menu

“Remember that weird roommate I was telling you about?” You glare at him, ensuring he knows what you’re suggesting 

“That's him, no way!” 

“This is Thai food, I thought you hated Thai food.” Sherlock looks at you “and have you not noticed the sub standard way he’s dressed along with the notebook he has to take notes to improve his publishing skills. What was it? Uhh, Jason, are you sure this is a date?” He smirks

“It's Jamie, and uh I- well maybe I was” Jamie stutters and looks over to you.

“Why are you here sherlock? And if you wanted help you could’ve just asked. Don’t lead me on for three months then take me on a crappy date.” You begin to pack up your stuff.

“Wait, please I- uh i’m sorry.” Jamie does move from his seat

“Uh huh sure looks like it, hope you enjoyed your free lesson because my meal was crap.” You look over to the manager of the restaurant who looks somewhat hurt by your words. Feeling bad you slam a £10 note on the table before storming off.

“What can I get you?” The waitress asks Sherlock.

“Sorry but change of plan.” Sherlock folds the menu up and places it on the table and hands a tip to the waitress “sorry for the trouble” he smiles and follows you out of the restaurant.

———————————

You stood outside the door to baker street red with anger, not only did he push his way into the date, but he also ruined it. Yeah maybe it was a bad way but it was supposed to be a way to get over his stupid dick, not that he needed to know that.

“I’m sorry, my intentions weren’t-

“Don’t start that Sherlock, you’re a good detective but a shit liar.” You huff pushing through the door.

“Well i was unsure given how you left” he followed you up the stairs, you stopped in your tracks. Oh he’s really done it now.

“How i left?” You sighed, Sherlock stood back slightly he’d never seen you like this before “you mean me telling you didn’t wanna be your stress relief anymore and actually trying to be an adult. What were you so unsure about? Please enlighten me.”

“How about the past three weeks of practically begging on your knees for me?” He snapped back

“Oh yeah sure because it only takes one person to fuck, how about last week or about two hours ago if I remember correctly, do you want me to go on. I told you we can’t do it anymore! Why do you think I was on this date?!” You paused knowing you’d said too much

“What are you talking about?” He tilts his head

“I may have only gone on this date because I didn’t want to think what we had was becoming something else, you don’t do all these normal people things.” You laugh to yourself “I was trying to get over your dick.” 

“Why should you?” He stepped closer, you took a stepback back until you hit the wall.

“What do you mean?” You ask, he answered swiftly by latching his lips to yours, pining you between him and the wall, your lips part as he pushes his tongue through causing you to send a whimper into his mouth

“Just admit it, you need me. I know I need you.” He picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist, he carried you into the apartment and dropped you against the door where he began to take off your clothes. You reached to undo the buttons of his shirt and he smacked your desperate hands away.

“Why?” You whimpered 

“Because you wanted someone else, you denied me of what i wanted. Now you have to wait for what you want, until I decide you’re forgiven.” His eyes were dark with lust as he pawed your body removing your layers. He turned you around and spread your legs apart. You heard the familiar sound of his belt unbuckling and then the tingling sensation of him rubbing his cock up and down your slick folds. He entered you with one hard thrust causing your face to press into the hard wood of the door as he fucked you.

“Fuck-sherlock plea-“ he cut you off covering your mouth with his hand.

“Wouldn’t want Mrs Hudson to hear now do we?” He continued his movement causing the door to rattle, he rubbed against the soft spot inside, his thickness and curve entered you perfectly. His cock rubbed your insides just right, tightening the coil inside you.

“F-fuck Sherlock. Gonna cum.” You whimper as he grunts, pushing you closer to your release. 

“Fuck- so tight.” He moaned. Your body’s heat began to rise as you grew ever closer to you release, he let it build up gripping harder and pushing deeper waiting, until he stopped. He pulled himself out, wiping the sweat from his brow and straightening his collar. 

“What the hell?” You turned around watching as he sat in his chair tucking his hardness away.

“I’m stopping you from getting what you wanted.” He said holding his hands together in his usual pose

“Why would you do that?” You ask slightly irritated at the mess he left you in

“You did it to me, I thought it was only fair.” He tilts his head pulling a sarcastic smirk.

“You’re a drama queen.” You walk over to him “and an ass” you kneel between his legs “and you’re-“ 

“Choose your next words wisely.” His hand gripped your chin pushing your lips together. You gripped his wrists and pulled them away, snaking your hands down his thighs, back to his hardness.

“And you’re incredibly jealous.” You say with a smile, his thighs clenched as your hands run over his crotch and unbuckling his belt. He let out a long sigh as you took his cock into your hands. You pumped him for a moment, allowing his body to relax into the chair before circling your tongue around his tip, your saliva mixing with the salty taste of precum dripping from him. You licked a stripe up his shaft eventually sinking your mouth down, swallowing as much as you could.

“That's it, take it all for me, good girl.” He hissed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You bobbed up and down moaning onto him, sending vibrations down his shaft.  You pulled back up, sucking on his tip and pumping him with your hand. His thighs clenched as he pushed you away. “Not yet, can’t cum too soon.”

“Why? can't go again?” You smile

“Don’t ask stupid questions love.” He sniped back as you straddled his waist “you gonna cum around my cock” he watched as you placed your entrance above his hardness.

“You going to let me this time? Or are you- shit!” You yelped out as he thrusted up into you. You panted over him as you sunk down pushing him deeper

“What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?” He smirked and began pushing back up into you as you grinded along with the pace. Your hands gripped his shoulders to steady yourself as the motion rocked his chair. His lips traced your jawline down to your neck, he sucked leaving red marks along your neckline. His arm wrapped around your waist allowing him to hold you up as he thrusted hard into you.

“Fuck sherlock , j-just like that.” You whispered as he cock pushed deeper rubbing perfectly on that sweet spot inside. He groaned at the sensation of your walls tightening around him.

“Fuck, you gonna cum on my cock, soak it, just the way i like it.” He moaned moving his thumb to your swollen clit adding to the sensation. The chair began to rock and creak with the motion of your bodies colliding.

“Oh god Sh-Sherlock gonna cum.” You squealed as your body clenched around him, his touch burned your skin. You needed him, the way he made you feel didn’t even come close to the way anyone else could.

“I bet Jamie couldn’t make you look like this, paralysed over my cock.” He let out a groan as his pace stuttered. “You want me to cum pretty girl?”  

“Yes, please, I want it.” You begged rocking on his lap.

“Where do you want it pretty girl?” He grunted

“In me, please, I want you to fill me up. Sherlock please, I need it. All yours, only you.” 

“I’ll give it to you- fuck. Gonna paint your insides white.” He bit down on your shoulder, lavishing you neck with kisses as he came, the squelching sound of him pushing his thick white ropes further into you filled the room. You stopped rocking, resting your brow on his with a smile, his eyes locked on yours before he leaned in for an exhausted sloppy kiss. He pulled away admiring the marks he left on your neck.

“What?” You asked as he traced his fingers around them.

“Now when you or anyone else looks at these, they’ll know you’re mine.” He smirked as you sighed 

“Your arrogance will be the death of me”

“As long as its only because i fucked you to your grave, thats fine. But don’t go too soon.” He pulled you in for a tired hug, you hummed happily, savouring the moment. It wasn’t often Sherlock Holmes showed you affection.

[ironstrange1991]

Can't Live Without You

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Stephen is feeling lonely and doesn't know how to deal with his own feelings and needs.

Word Count: 3,1k

Warnings: SMUT: Male masturbation.

A/N: This is not my best work, but I am glad I'm finally able to post something. Hope you guys enjoy it and have a nice reading ;)

Stephen couldn't remember the last time he was completely alone in the Sanctum Sanctorum. Ever since the other Stephens arrived, he had gotten used to having them roaming within those walls, but both of them were out on different missions.

Defender went with Wong to Hong Kong's Sanctum and they would stay there for a few days and Supreme were in another planet with the Avengers. Wong not being in there  was the only reason he wasn't tormenting Stephen with the most boring tasks he could think of, but to be honest, Stephen was already missing his friend.

Christ, he really wasn't doing well to have gotten to the point where he missed Wong's nagging. In fact he was feeling alone. Lonely. That was the word he was trying to find to express the feeling he had been feeling in his chest all day. What a weird thing to feel.

He was missing you. You had gone on a work trip earlier in the week, but although you had promised to return in three days, it was Friday and he hadn’t had no sign of you other than the text admitting that you wouldn't be able to return before Monday.

He got angry when he read it. Not at you, but with the fact that somehow he was getting a taste of his own medicine: alone on a Friday night while you worked.

Of course he could come to you. Anywhere in the world, he could come to you, but he couldn't do it without you telling him you wanted so and every night you talked on the phone you didn't mention it. It wasn't like you suddenly forgot that your boyfriend could open a portal in your room to fuck you. No, Stephen was almost certain that you were using those days to distance yourself a little bit from him. Like a Stephen detox. After all, you had three of him and he admitted that they were not at all easy on you.

Stephen sighed, walking down the halls to the kitchen and took a good look in the fridge trying to find something to eat. There was leftover Chinese food he bought on Wednesday, two pieces of pizza he bought yesterday and some Tupperware with leftover food that he promised you he would get rid of and clean up, but he hadn't.

Shit, he was a terrible housekeeper.  It was pathetic, but it was true. Before you, he used to live of take-outs and the things that Wong cooked. Now he could barely imagine living the rest of the weekend like that. Obviously, he could try cooking. There were some half-finished things in the fridge, easy stuff, but he didn't want to risk setting the kitchen on fire, so he took the box of Chinese food and put it in the microwave to heat it up. While he waited, he took a piece of cold pizza and started eating while opening a bottle of beer.

He was starving and tired. He needed a good shower and a good night of sleep, but he hadn't been able to sleep well since you left. It wasn't a coincidence, you were the only person who could make him sleep when he was having one of his insomnia crisis. The methods you used were... how to say? Delicious.

He smiled to himself just at the thought of your nights together, then the microwave beeped  and he sat down to eat, but even that made him feel depressed. Stephen, who for many years lived alone and always thought it was great, now began to understand that he hated being left alone. He couldn't even conceive the idea of ​​living alone again.

He ate in complete silence and when he finished, he checked all the Sanctum seals and went up to his room. He crossed the room, getting rid of the boots he had worn all day and which were already making his feet hurt and took off the top of his robes,  took a pair of sweatpants from the closet drawer and headed to the bathroom.

The water was hot enough to burn his skin, but that was exactly how Stephen liked it. The fog fogging up the shower glass and enveloping the entire bathroom. Stephen let the hot water fall directly on his back and little by little he felt his tense muscles relaxing. He soaped himself quickly and washed his hair taking as long as he could and when he finished he wrapped a towel around his waist and dedicated himself to shaving. He was used to shave once every two days, goatee maintenance was a priority for him because he knew you loved it, it made him want to always make it perfect for you. In fact, as time went by, Stephen realized that everything he did was for you.

Finally, he threw himself on the bed feeling the tiredness of the day hitting him. He wanted to sleep, but he wasn't sleepy. That was one of the worst feelings in the world: being tired, but not being able to fall asleep. Usually you helped him in these situations, you made him sleep in your special way. God, he wanted you. He needed you.

He rolled over on the bed to reach the nightstand and threatened to take his sling ring, but stopped, scolding himself. Give her space, Stephen Strange. He thought, trying to convince himself, but the mere idea of ​​opening a portal in your hotel room made his body react instantly and Stephen sighed, realizing that maybe there was only one way to get through that hellish night without you: to handle the issue himself... thinking of you.

He let out a heavy sigh and shook his head allowing himself to run his hand down his abdomen imagining it was your hands reaching for his growing bulge. Stephen moaned softly with the contact of his hand on his cock even through the fabric of his pants. He was without a lay for five days. It was absurd to him, he couldn't imagine lasting another day without you and yet there he was being forced to resort to masturbation because you weren't there. It was unfair and cruel and he wanted to scream to the world that he didn't deserve to go through that, but deep down he knew he was being melodramatic.

When his hand went under his pants and his trembling hand made contact with his hard, sensitive member he closed his eyes immediately and your face was what he saw. You smiling sweetly at him. Stephen had an extra factor that made masturbation always intense: his photographic memory.  He could basically remember in great detail every moment you ever spent together, every touch, every kiss, every moan that came out of your mouth. It was all there in his head ready to be used like a movie whenever he needed it. And that night he needed it.

His cock pulsed in his hands the moment he closed his fingers around it. The tremor in his hand, previously a problem, was now an even greater stimulation that made jerking off more pleasurable.  Stephen had been working on it for some time. Hours and hours of physiotherapy to try to regain a minimum of strength in his hands that would allow him to pleasure himself without having to resort to magic. Of course, he would never admit that was the real motivation behind his decision to seek help after so many years. It wasn't significant enough to solve the problem, but it strengthened his nerves enough for him to gain the necessary autonomy.

Obviously he still preferred your hands. Oh god, your hands were magical. Much more magical than his. They were small and delicated and way they were soft and yet had a firm and insistent grip was enough to make him see stars.

"Fuck sweetheart..." Stephen moaned softly, moving his hands slowly up and down inside his pants. He didn't want it to end quickly. He was just working himself up, just letting his mind wander as he felt the sensation building inside him. His balls were full and sensitive. So much cum contained there. So much to give you, but you weren't there.

But if you were, he knew exactly how you would treat him. How you would get down on your knees and prop your body to show up your tits for him, how you would look him right in the eyes with that naughty face biting your bottom lip and then pull the hem of his pants to free his cock and how you would smile pleased seeing how hard he was for you.

You were so dirty, you loved sex as much as he did and he never needed to ask for a handjob or blowjob because you loved to give. You were perfect for him and he was irrevocably yours.

He moaned again finally releasing his cock and then conjured a bottle of lube in his left hand and poured some of the sticky liquid onto his cock and began to stroke himself slowly, but putting a little more firmness into the touch. In response his cock pulsed in his hand and his hips jumped up.

Oh you would love to see him doing it. You would praise him for it and would say how much you loved him and how much you adored seeing him pleasuring himself. You would call him Steph. Such a silly way of calling him, yet so sweet coming from your lips in your sweet voice. Stephen knew very well he loved everything you did.

He lolled his head back onto the pillow and bit his lip to hold back a loud groan.

Following the memories that played in his mind, he thought about how you always moaned while jerking him. How having his dick in your hands made you horny and how it always made him feel.

He thought about the way your lips curled into a shy smile every time he started talking dirty to you. How the grip of your hand got tighter, how you loved it. You were a dirty little thing. His dirty little thing.

Stephen let a louder moan echo through the room. You loved that too. The sounds he made when you held him in the palm of your hand. He closed his eyes and stroked his cock harder and faster. The tip was leaking precum and he was so ready to be inside you, but all he could do at that moment was think about it. And that's what he did.

He thought about how wet you always were when he touched you after you give him a handjob. How his fingers easily slid in and out of you and how you always squirmed around his fingers, begging for more. He thought about how you always begged for him. How you couldn't bear to wait, how you shamelessly opened your legs to welcome him in.

"Always so good to me." He murmured "My sweet girl is always so good to me."

Stephen started using his other hand to massage his balls too. It was how he liked you to do it. He liked to be stimulated as much as possible, he liked when you licked and sucked on his balls. He liked it dirty and messy and you knew exactly how to do it.

He knew you like no one else and he liked to think that even the other Stephens didn't know how to satisfy you like he did, but at the same time he liked to see them trying.

"Oh shit." Stephen was startled by that train of intrusive thoughts and increased the strength of his strokes as the room was invaded by the wet sound of his hands working on himself.  He thought about how he loved watching you get fucked by the other Stephens. It was no surprise, but the images that invaded his mind were of really intense moments and they almost threw him over the edge immediately, such was the strength they had as stimulation.

Stephen let out a breathy laugh as he shook his head in disbelief, but he did not try to change the thoughts in his mind, instead, he dwelled in those memories. How you always looked beautiful bouncing on top of Defender while you kept Supreme's cock in your mouth, and that bastard always fucked your mouth roughly and you loved it and Stephen loved the sound it made, the tears that ran down your eyes as they abused you.

Stephen thought about how he loved watching you get creampied. How delicious it was to see them emptying themselves inside you, to see you being violated by their release knowing that you would have to take one more.

His hands now punished his cock with a touch of violence and his mouth was half open, eyes squeezed shut as the images played in his mind.  He thought about the delicious feeling of fucking your pussy full of cum, how the wet squelching noise turned him on even more and how you always seemed gloriously spent after rounds and rounds with the three Stephens. It was pornographic, it was filthy and beautiful.

"F-Fuck yes." He moaned spurting his release all over his stomach and making a mess on himself. Still, he didn't stop, he kept bringing himself dangerously close to overstimulation as his mind focused on the expressions you made as your entire body writhed in ecstasy with your orgasm. How your cheeks would turn red when they were done and how sweetly you would smile at them. Almost innocent.

"Such a dirty girl." He muttered to himself, slowing down his hand until it came to a complete stop, but he didn't have time to recover as he was surprised by the sound of his cell phone ringing.

"Shit." He grumbled, wiping his hands quickly on the sheet and making even more of a mess when he turned to pick up the device on the nightstand and felt his release running down the sides of his ribs.

It was your name on the display. In fact, the word Sweetheart.

"Hey, sweetheart." He answered, still trying to regulate his breathing, but of course you noticed.

"Hey. I was wondering if maybe you’d want to..." But you stopped for a moment and then asked, "Were you running?"

Stephen instinctively cleared his throat. "What? No. I was..." But he couldn't think of anything to say and there was a silence on the line and then a little giggle.

"What were you doing, Stephen?" You asked.

He sighed feeling his cheeks get hot from the fact that he had been caught. There was no point in lying.

"I... I missed you, Y/n."

There was an affectionate hum from your side of the line.

"Well, I called to ask if you'd like to come and meet me now. I'm missing you too, Steph."

He chuckled nervously. "I thought you would never ask. I thought you were enjoying having some time away from us."

You giggled, "Don't be silly. I was just really tired. But it's okay if you don't want to come now that you've solved your problem on your own. Maybe you would prefer to go to sleep…"

But he was already getting up.

"Now who's being silly?" He ran to the bathroom and quickly cleaned himself up and went back to the bedroom to get his sling ring. "Remind me again what hotel are you in?"

"At the Plaza." You responded promptly. "I told you yesterday and I thought..."

But you stopped talking when the portal opened in your room and he walked through it, heading towards you and taking you in his arms in an intense kiss.

"I missed you. So badly." He confessed on your lips, letting his forehead rest on yours. You smiled, looking surprised by his confession and cupped his cheek. "It's only been five days, Stephen. You've already spent three weeks on a mission."

He shook his head, "It's horrible. Staying at home. Without you.

He confessed to which you smirked.

"Now you know how I feel."

"I'm very sorry." He said pulling you back into his lips.

...

Stephen was staring up at the ornate ceiling of your hotel room with a smile plastered on his face. Making love to you had that effect on him. His arm was extended so you were cuddled close to him, your head resting on his chest, moving slowly as he breathed. The two of you were silent, still enjoying the afterglow of your release and his heart was finally at peace. Outside you could hear the sporadic sound of cars passing on the street and conversations in the hallway.

"The sound insulation in this place is horrible. How have you been able to sleep here?" He asked breaking the silence and you hummed, apparently still unable to form a sentence.

"Your boss could have paid for a better hotel." He continued and you shrugged.

"I liked it here. The room service is great and the food too."

Stephen smiled to himself. You were always so satisfied with everything. You never complained about anything. Totally the opposite of him.

"Besides, I'm always so tired when I get here that I fall asleep as soon as I put my head on the pillow."

He nodded, stroking your cheek and was silent for a moment, just a minute, but long enough for you to tilt your head to look at him.

"What is it?"

"I think I made a discovery this week and it was kind of scary." He said already knowing he would regret what he was about to say.

You smiled convinced as if you already knew what he was going to say. "Did you find out you can't live without me?"

He chuckled "I already knew that. I just realized the obvious and it wasn't pleasant."

You frowned trying to understand what else it could be then.

"I don't think I can live alone anymore. Before, when I worked at the hospital, I liked the silence of my apartment, but this week the empty Sanctum filled me with horror to the point that I missed Defender and Supreme."

You smiled glancing at him "That's something I never imagined you would say."

"I never imagined I would feel this way, sweetheart. The truth is, I like them. I can talk to them in a way that I don't talk to anyone else."

"It might have something to do with the fact that they are you” You reminded him.

"You are right."

You brought your hand up to his chin scratching his goatee. "How are things at home? No problem, I imagine. No demonic entity has tried to take over our washing machine?"

Stephen giggled "No. All boringly normal."

"What a shame!" You said, feigning disappointment.

Stephen smiled to himself and lifted your chin enough for him to kiss your lips.

"I love you, sweetheart. With each passing day I love you more. You changed my life for the better and changed me in the process. I'm definitely a better man because of you."

You sighed softly, your throat bobbing. "Oh I love when you say these things to me, Steph."

He smiled, pinching your cheek provocatively. "I may not be Defender, but I know how to be romantic sometimes."

“Of course you do.” You smile "And I love you too. With all my heart."

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!

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[starssaroundmyscarssblog]

Can you write for reader x Sherlock where reader is a little like Elizabeth Bennet, likes to read and paint etc. Singing and all the cultural stuffs and Sherlock has fallen for her too hard?

𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈𝐍

pairing: sherlock holmes (bbc) x fem!oc

summary: in which sherlock holmes doesn’t catch himself from falling quick enough for jane burbank

word count: 3.04k

warnings: none

a/n: this was my first time writing for a request so i really hope you like it <3 i also made it [x/oc] as i'm more comfortable doing it that way but i tried to stay away from descriptions as much as possible to make this little fic as inclusive as possible too <3

he wanted nothing more than to talk to her, even if it was only a meagre apology for accidentally brushing against her in the library isle. she enamoured him and he hated it, even years later as he held the heavy velvet curtains between two fingers and watched her cross over the road and unlock the door to her flat. john smirked behind his newspaper, "you're doing it again."

"doing what?" sherlock huffed, letting the curtains drape back into place over the window. "saying i'm doing something again would mean i'm repeating the action. what's special about me standing by the window." he stalked through the flat and flung himself into an old wooden chair by the kitchen table, seething over his frustration.

he hated it when john was right. nothing frustrated him more than his closest friend seeing right through him as if he were a spirit. more often than not, when he was sulking about not having cases or waiting for results from his less-than-ethical experiments, sherlock would find himself rooted to the floor by the window. sometimes he would play his violin slow and mournful, sometimes he would stand in plain sight.

it would stun him when the sunlight bounced off the wire frame of her glasses, the reflection shooting through her window and right back to his. sherlock found it hard to concentrate on anything else when she would sit in her arm chair with a cardigan that on anyone else would have looked ugly but on her the bright colours did nothing but compliment her. she always had a pen or pencil or paint brush hidden away in her hair, and occasionally she would reach up and fiddle with it as she thumbed delicately through the pages of her book.

sherlock looked up from concentrating hard on the surface of the table when his phone buzzed him his pocket, and he pulled it out. his smile became visible against his will.

you're doing it again, if you want to come over you only have to ask

within minutes he was at the door, ripping off his burgundy dressing gown and trading it out for his thick and heavy belstaff. at john's call of "where're you off to all eager?" he simply shouted "out" as he clattered down the thin staircase. sherlock was out of the door and crossing the road faster than he was able to think, knocking sharply on the blurred stained glass window set into her front door.

there was a crash from inside, a mutter of swearing as she pulled back the door to reveal her haphazard state. sherlock stared dumbly at her, trying to ignore the red splatter of paint on her neck dripping onto her chest, searching for words as when he opened his mouth it turned dry. "you didn't ask," she said, but stood back to let him into her house anyway.

sherlock walked in through the hall, catching himself casting his gaze over the walls like he did every singe time. the university diploma sat pride of place over the mantlepiece of the fireplace in the living room reading 'ba joint honours in history and history of art awarded to jane burbank, graduating with a first from the university of edinburgh'

next to it was a framed photo of the pair of them stood together at a mutual friend's wedding the previous year. sherlock had gone along begrudgingly when he'd found out that jane was attending the party after the ceremony because her cousin was the maid of honour for the bride. they were both standing outside of the venue side by side, smiling into the lens as one of the flower girls was messing with the petal confetti in her small wicker basket in the background.

jane brushed her bangs off her eyes as she moved around the airy living room, shoving wooden crates of paint back into place on the shelf and moving her latest canvas out into the garden to dry completely. sherlock stood awkwardly in his coat and ran his finger under the collar of his shirt sitting tightly against his neck. she stared at him as she returned, wiping a paint stain off the hem of her white dress as she did so.

"sherlock, i don't know why you insist on dressing like a child from the past in the middle of summer." london had been blanketed in a sticky, heavy heat as they hit the peak of august, making being indoors impossible but being outside worse. jane was only glad of her broken window to allow a constant breeze to pass through the ground floor of her house but knew the relief wouldn't last long. it was only a matter of time before the rain came in thick drops and plunged them into everlasting autumn.

he shrugged awkwardly and peeled the coat from his body, and when jane looked at him from behind her easel tucked away in a corner by the bay window he removed his blazer from his shoulders too. sherlock felt too free when he was with her, it scared him, but she made him feel to exhilarated to even care sometimes.

once, when they'd met at a summer research project collating students from different courses at the russel group unis, jane had cleared her throat to catch his attention in the library. at the noise he turned around, still holding the heavy volume, and saw her looking at him through a gap in the shelves perching her chin on the heel of her hands. "hey," jane whispered at him, "d'you want to do something fun?"

sherlock couldn't find his voice to tell her that what he was doing was fun and that he didn't really want to leave the safety of the library that late at night, but her bright eyes sparkling in the fluorescent lights hanging from the high ceiling from exposed wires made him throw caution to the wind and join her on their escapade. jane dragged him to a concert and to this day not one of them could remember who it was they'd seen only that they were rubbish and the cone of chips they'd picked at while walking through a grassy park was much more enjoyable.

he'd been dressed for winter then too, despite the thin linen of his shirt trying to cool him down in the muggy night air. but he couldn't care less about the heat invading his skin or the salt from the chips that caught on his finger tips because he was talking to jane burbank, and it had been all he'd wanted to do since she came bursting into the lecture hall for the summer programme two minutes late in a haze of frazzledness as she pulled down the hem of her summer dress where it had ridden up from her haste.

if he had been a better man he wouldn't have looked down past her neck but he couldn't help himself.

perched on the end of the emerald green sofa shoved against a bright white wall covered in artwork and cheap antique picture frames, sherlock fumed silently like the kettle he wished jane was setting over the stove because he could see john giving him his worst 'i told you so' look from the front window of his flat over the road. jane returned with a silver tray laden with small plates holding biscuits, two empty glasses holding ice and a large pitcher of sparkling orange juice.

"d'you want to go out and do something fun tonight?" jane found herself repeating the words every time she saw sherlock, which wasn't as often as she would have hoped considering she bought her house opposite his flat with his proximity in mind. he was always out sleuthing with john, who she'd seen more, and got on well with.

so was it really any surprise that jane took any chance she could get with sherlock, to make the most of the time they had together. he'd intrigued her all those years ago (it hadn't in-fact been too many years ago since they'd graduated with first honours, but life in the wake of sherlock holmes was long and weary) and still continued to do so now. she was pleased she knew him before he made it big as a 'boffin' in the national press and was even more pleased that he still kept up with her completely opposing lifestyle despite his cold-heartedness and want of plain fact.

with a gleeful grin and a shake of his shoulders as she squealed at his minute nod, jane was away to pack her bag and to grab her sandals before rejoining him at the front door. much to her excitement, sherlock had decided to brave the outside world without the protection of his belstaff, the top two buttons of his shirt were undone and his blazer was tucked neatly under his arm as he waited patiently for her. "ever practical," she muttered and locked the door behind her. the heat of the day beat down on her exposed shoulders from where she'd pinned her hair up at the back of her head and she pulled her sunglasses over her nose.

they set off and june looked at her watch, "quarter to three, fancy going out for something to eat first?"

"whatever you want to do," sherlock agreed, and sure enough half an hour later they were sat on outside tables for a cafe overlooking westminster watching the people go by. well, sherlock was watching the people go by and jane was peeling away the pastry of a croissant she'd ordered while taking occasional sips of her glass of diet coke. he tapped his fingers against the saucer for his coffee patiently waiting for her to finish so they could leave.

jane wanted to look through the markets in camden for old records before they tried to find a pub for dinner and finished off the day at st james' park to listen to the music drift over them from the live festival happening in hyde park that she didn't get tickets to. she was always asking him if he wanted to do something fun even when she'd planned the day to some kind of degree of legible and sherlock just agreed.

but he did so because jane had asked him to, and anything that was fun to her would be fun for him.

after their intermission at the cafe, where jane had stopped to take some candid photos of some couples she'd seen over the green before turning the lens on an unsuspecting sherlock, they suffered the stuffy carriage of the underground before emerging at camden. jane beelined for stalls selling records and cassette tapes she didn't need because her selection was already overflowing. she picked up a sleeve and turned it to sherlock, grinning, "don't you just love them?"

he smirked before saying, "i prefer blur" only to receive a smack on the shoulder for his admission. by the time they'd left jane had bought enough to put a sizeable dent into her savings account made for paying off her student debt and she was dragging sherlock to an art gallery she noticed was free to the public before they sat down to eat again.

there was something about her wide eyes as they walked around the gallery that sherlock couldn't tear his eyes away from. it might have been the sun shining down on her cheekbones from the glass ceiling or the way she looked like one of the twisted statues in her white dress and delicate sandals or her screwed up face as she focused on something in the background through the lens of her camera. being with jane was a break from the world he'd plugged himself into and he loved every second of it.

sherlock didn't love it as much, however, when they were sat outside (again) at a pub jane liked sharing a bowl of chips while she told him about the awful date she'd had with an awful guy who had an awful name two days prior. his back straightened and something curled in the pit of his stomach as jane told him about the bloke's lacklustre effort of wooing her, especially when he lumped her with paying for dinner and their tube fares back because he'd 'conveniently' left his wallet in a different jacket.

"he wasn't even wearing a jacket, sherlock, i mean can you believe it? i go on one date for the first time in months and he's a total prick!" she picked at a chip and dunked it angrily into the splodge of tomato sauce she'd poured onto the plate before soaking up any vinegar that had been left behind, "is chivalry really dead? i refuse to believe it is."

sherlock made a hoarse noise in the back of his throat before leaving for the bar and returning with a drink to replace jane's third glass of diet coke since they'd sat down. he placed down the cocktail in front of her and felt a flush of pride creep down his back as jane placed her hand over his to thank him earnestly. she took a sip, then another until the entire thing slid down her throat with a sigh of relief.

"i really needed that," she said and giggled to herself. sherlock forgot every time he was with her when she drank that jane was the lightest of lightweights, but when she'd had one she was happy and when jane was happy sherlock was well on the way to being happy too.

another cocktail later and jane had reached her happy medium for alcohol intake - she was blissfully unaware of anything happening outside of the six foot boundary around her but could still hold herself upright and kissed sherlock enthusiastically on the cheek when he caught the bill as a waiter was passing by their table. she laughed all along the path and the whole time the two of them were walking to st james' park.

sherlock didn't make it a habit to carry people around on his back, but when jane looked up at him with a pout and wide glassy eyes he acquiesced and hoisted her onto his back with her ankles locked together just below his navel.

she insisted on getting a cone of chips for old times sake even though they'd eaten enough to fuel an army back at the pub, and jane happily handed over five pounds in cash for a cone and a pot of curry sauce to the woman behind the till. "thank you!" she called out from over her shoulders and sherlock walked through the gates to the park and let her down gently onto the grass where they usually sat.

jane fell forwards and caught herself from landing on her face by her knees, laughing as she slumped forwards onto her chest and propped her chin up into her hands. sherlock sat beside her on his jacket and brushed her bangs out of her eyes, and she felt her skin flush where his fingers had touched. the music from the concert in hyde park eventually reached them just as jane thought it would and she began to hum the tune under her breath as she picked at the chips sherlock was holding out for her.

jane rolled onto her back and felt the blades of grass tickle her shoulders and she moved to make herself comfortable. "we never talk anymore sherlock." she huffed, and tried to reach out and run her fingers over his cheek but stopped when she realised her hands were moving in the completely wrong direction.

"you've been talking all day."

"but i mean you and me. we never talk, i talk at you and you listen."

"i like listening."

"no you don't, you'll out live god trying to get the last word in."

he laughed behind his smile, "i like listening to you."

jane pushed herself onto her feet and sank down again so she was eye to eye with sherlock. he could still see the red splatter of paint along her neck and upon closer inspection he found that the drips had dried throughout the day past the neckline of her already low summer dress. "i wish you would do more than watch and listen to me." she whispered, still tapping out the rhythm of the new song against her knee.

"but i like listening to you and i can't help but watch you. it irritates me." lies.

"no it doesn't."

damn.

before sherlock even had a chance to refute or say anything in his defence, jane's hands were placed gently on either side of his neck and she pulled him forwards to join their lips. jane held him so close that their noses bumped together repeatedly and she had to lean forwards to follow him when he pulled away. "jane!"

"what?" she questioned, finding that she'd sobered up at a startling rate when the gravity of what she'd done had truly set in. "oh, sherlock i'm so sorry i didn't mean to-" her words were cut off as he kissed her again, again and again to pepper kisses all over her cheeks and along her forehead where her bangs had fallen over her eyes again.

jane was a breath of fresh air, the calm in the middle of the storm he lived his life by. in the moment with her, sitting on the grass in a darkened london park he couldn't help but not care about what john would say when he finally got home or if jane would soon realise how dangerous tangling her life with his truly was.

she pushed herself onto him and held onto his arms as she kissed him harder, not caring that sherlock was the right-hand-man of every inspector at scotland yard or that his idea of fun was dissecting human bodies and testing them for bruising. the only thing that mattered to her was the boy she'd liked since she walked in late to the lecture hall was kissing her back after he'd admitted to her, drunkenly at their mutual friend's wedding, that it was all he thought about whenever he saw her

🪩⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊🔎

[lokisrealpurpous]

hiii ‼️‼️ i was wondering if i could request these two prompts:

“your eyes are really pretty up close.” and “you’re not okay, you’re shaking. what can i do? please, let me help you.” for loki ?

you absolutely don’t have to do both and can just take ur pick from the two also :)

ty 🫶🫶 !!

all I need is you

loki x female!reader

warnings: none really, fluff, reader gets ill from being out in a snowstorm

description

(y/n) and her todler, "Aroura Lokisdottir" go to the shop during a snow storm to get dinner and some snacks for a Christmas movie marathon. When they come out, the car has broke from being out in the frostbitten weathers leaving the only choice but for the two to walk home. Aroura was lucky to have her fathers Jotun genes however (y/n) wasn't as fortunate.

prompts:

"your eyes are really pretty up close"

"you're not okay, you're shaking. what can I do? please let me help you."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Loki had been at the compound all day leaving you with your little girl at home. The harsh winds gushed outside and the scene from the window was as white as a canvas, the heating was failing you as you sat huddled in blankets, 3 hot water bottles by your sides. Your jaw ached from chattering and goosebumps painted your pale, frozen skin.

"mama what's for dinner?"

a soft voice broke through the room.

"and remember it's movie night!"

aroura squealed as she ran up to my side, frantic hands attempting to climb the sofa that loomed over her tiny frame. You grabbed her from under her arms and she crawled onto your lap, kissing your foread as she giggled childishly.

"mama you's cold!"

she grabbed more blankets of the floor and chucked them onto the chair, then started to scrunch her nose

"a...achoo!"

as she sneezed her small character pained blue, her crimson eyes glowing in the dark room. It wasn't long before this first happened. You and loki has figured that as the weather grew colder every cough and sneeze switched Aroura into her frostgiant form, you found it absoloutly adorable having a mini ice cube running around the house from time to time. Loki worried of it, but loved his little Jotun to pieces.

You sat slowly up on the chair and then walked over to your daughter, lifting her onto your shoulders and using your magic to wrap her in a hat, scarf, coat and gloves, as some for yourself, and grabbed the keys before leaving the house. Aroura clung onto your hair as she giggled on your shoulders before you lifted her into her baby seat in the car, strapping her in securely then walking to get in the front.

The car faulted as you twisted the keys, but you shrugged it of, driving across the icey roads to the shop a few streets down.

Once you got out you were quick to get Aroura back on your shoulders, she was getting tired as she rested her head against the top of yours, her small hands wrapped around your hair and neck gently. She picked out her favourite snacks and threw them in the basket, and chose pizza and star chips for her dinner, which was the best dinner for an evening like this. (y/n) brought some lemon sip for her aching throat and stuffed nose and then walked to the till, placing aroura on the bench next to the bagging area.

She was eager to grab all the items, begging you to let her scan the doritos, which you did in the end give in to, then she helped take the bags to the car, in the end needing you to take it as she dragged the items across the frost coated floors.

When you were both finally settled in the car you let out a sigh of relief, but as you turned the keys to hear a screeching, unpleasant sound from the engine your head fell onto the horn.

"Mama what are you doing!"

Aroura shouted over the loud beeping noise, her fathers attitude twisted in her voice. However grew worried as she watched her mother run her hands through her hair anxiously, muttering as she kicked and hit the car.

"Blasted weather!"

You groaned, opening the door and getting attacked once again by the deadly weather that penetrated you to your bones.

"Come on angel, we gotta walk home"

you say in a gentle however exhausted tone, holding onto your daughters small hand in one hand and 3 bags of shopping in the other.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You slammed the door behind you, your little girl clinging onto your arm. The freezing wind had taken its toll on your body, but you mustered a smile for your daughter's sake. As you entered the warmth of home, your legs trembled with exhaustion. You tried to hide your growing weakness, not wanting to worry your precious girl. She giggled and kicked off her snow-covered boots, completely oblivious to your struggle.

You watched as she ran off to play, her laughter filling the room with joy. However, as you started preparing dinner, you couldn't ignore the worsening fever and flu symptoms that were taking a toll on your body. Your head throbbed, and a chill ran through your weakened frame. You glanced at the clock, hoping that your husband Loki would arrive soon, wanting to hold him tight and snuggle up to him in the warmth of your bed. You continued chopping vegetables, pushing through the discomfort, it was just a bit of cold.

As you continued to prepare dinner, a throbbing headache began to intensify, adding to your already weakened state. Just as you were starting to feel overwhelmed, you heard the familiar jingle of keys and the creaking of the front door. Relief washed over you as Loki entered the house, bringing in a gust of cold air. The chill served as a reminder of the harsh winter outside, but it also brought a sense of comfort knowing he was home.

"Hey there, sweetheart!"

Loki called out, his voice filled with warmth and affection. Aroura, who had been waiting eagerly for her fathers return, rushed into the hallway, her arms wrapping around his legs as he chuckled deeply

Loki made his way to the kitchen, his eyes full of concern as he noticed the fatigue etched on your face. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you, knowing how much comfort you seemed from his embrace.

"I'm here, love. How was your day?"

he asked, his voice gently as he rocked your frozen body side to side, gently kissing your neck as you hummed in his arms.

"m.. the car broke at the shop.. m. me and aroura had to walk home and... c..cold."

You took a moment to lean into his comforting presence, grateful for his understanding.

"It's been a long day lo."

you replied, feeling a sense of solace in his arms.

Together, you and Loki finished preparing dinner, the aroma of the meal filling the house. As you all gathered around the table to enjoy the delicious food, you couldn't help but notice Loki's caring gaze on you, he looked worried yet loving, just wanting to make sure you were okay, in his own sweet way.

But in the midst of his gaze, our daughter couldn't resist having some fun. She started playing with her food, making silly faces and creating a mess. I couldn't help but laugh at the sight, trying to balance Loki's watchful eye on me while also keeping an eye on our mischievous little one.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Aroura had gone of to her room to read as you and loki tidied, you went to go wash the cutlery until some playful hands stoped you in your tracks, resting on you tense shoulders.

"Go prepare the movies pumpkin, I'll clean up."

loki hummed as he wrapped your in his jumper, going of to begin cleaning.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The clock next to the bed wrote "22:20" and you rested your head against the tall stack of pillows behind you. Loki had just gone to put Aroura into her crib who had just fallen asleep during the 4th movie, throughout the hours your body grew weaker and colder, loki rubbing you thigh with every sniffle and shiver thay escaped your ill form.

After Aroura was huddled up in blankets loki came back into our room and lifted your cold body, resting you in between his legs and kissing you forehead, wiping you teary eyes as he began to braid a few strands of your hair. You looked up at his gentle eyes.

"you're eyes are so pretty up close"

he whispered as he gazed back at you. Loki has always admired your eyes, a beautiful rainbow of pastels.

He couldn't do much to help your shivering state, being a frost giant, however he piled you in blankets and hot water bottles and had made you a lemon sip which sat on the beside table, he stroked you hair as your bead rested against his chest, every shake his heart ached.

"my love are you truly well"

he asked knowing the answer

you simply hummed in response, till shaking in his strong arms.

"you're not okay, you're shaking. what can I do? please let me help you."

he practically begged as he drowned you in affection and kisses.

"all I need is you"

you whispered, turning as you wrapped your arms around his waist, a hand on his chest beside you head, tangled around your lovers form.

"you'll always have me my darling.."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[cecystrange]

I WILL ALWAYS TAKE CARE OF YOU

(Stephen Strange × reader)

Tipe:fluff and sweet couple love

this came to me listening to the song Blue Jeans by Lana Del Rey, yes I'm a romantic without hope and nothing I hope you like it.

it was already a winter evening ,you love this winter breeze especially the things it brings like the sound of the rain, you start drinking hot herbal teas, night movies, blankets, strange pajamas, and your boyfriend Stephen is also more than in agreement with you "Steph what do you say if after dinner we get into bed with these pajamas in combo that we have with some herbal tea or hot chocolate and let's watch a good film" you say in such a excited way that Stephen loves it when you are like this and he doesn't stop smiling "yes of course my little one" he caresses your head ruffling your hair "but I decide the film" he says jokingly and laughs and you reply with a childish air "just this once", he laughs at your insolence.

...

You were getting everything ready, you had put the heaviest blankets on the bed, you were preparing a breakfast table to put on the bed for herbal teas and biscuits, Stephen instead was preparing your pajamas and Netflix.

Until his phone rings and he answers and it's Wong telling him there's an emergency, "God..honey I'm sorry but Wong called me that there's an emergency and I-", you stop him and say "don't apologize my love, don't worry go do it as soon as you get back or some other day" and you go closer to him and smile sweetly spe Stephen comes closer to you and gives you a sweet kiss on the lips and whispers "I love you too" you smile "me too".

He walks away and puts on Cloaky and his Sorcerer suit appears and opens a portal and leaves,you stay there and continue to fix, you're used to this and it doesn't weigh on you because you understand that Stephen is the Sorcerer Supreme and he has to protect the world.

...

It was 10:07pm you were in bed reading and you hear the noise of the portal, you jump out of bed and go to Stephen but you see that he is badly injured "Oh God Steph" you run to him and help him up the stairs "Thanks darling...the monster was too powerful but I'm home".

When you get to the bathroom you make him sit on the toilet and you take the cotton wool and the disinfectant and also the bandages for his hands, "always so thoughtful love I'm fine" he says to reassure you "Steph I'll take care of you", he smiles and closes his eyes "you're the first woman who doesn't run away as soon as she sees me like this...you are unique love","you are my everything how could I ever abandon you...now get yourself disinfected my love" you start to pass the cotton wool over the wounds and he moans in pain.

...

After finishing the dressing he says sweetly "now we can have an evening since I'm at home" he says looking at you, "love only if you feel like it-" he stops you "I feel like it for you, everything and then I have to distract myself from the battle",Sorina smiles and he gets up and gives her a kiss "come on I thought about the movie" "and which one?" you say as you walk towards the bedroom "a romantic one so as soon as they kiss I'll kiss you too" you laugh at his statement but he says seriously but with a playful hint "no actually, I'll start now".

[lokidokieokie]

A Clumsy Pursuit

Summary: Stephen wants to ask you out, but the universe seems to be against him.

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Receptionist!Fem!Reader

Warning(s): none really, fluff and humour

Stephen had always been a man of precision and control. He could manipulate time, space, and reality with a flick of his wrist, but when it came to matters of the heart, he was completely clueless. That was until he met you, the receptionist at the Avengers Tower.

You were one of the few people in the tower who could make him feel at ease. You had a way of calming his nerves, and he found himself seeking your company more and more. He had never felt this way about anyone before--not even Christine--and it was a completely foreign feeling for him.

He had decided that he was going to pursue you. He had planned to take you out on a date, but things never seemed to go as planned. He was always so clumsy around you, and everything he did seemed to make you laugh.

One day, he had brought you a cup of coffee, but as he handed it to you, he spilled it all over your desk. You had just laughed it off, helping him clean up the mess. He had never felt so embarrassed in his life, but your laugh had made him feel a bit better.

Another time, he had tried to impress you by showing off his levitation skills, but he ended up losing control and crashing into a bookshelf. You had rushed over to make sure he was okay, and once again, you had laughed it off.

Despite all his clumsy attempts, he never gave up. He was determined to win your heart. He had finally mustered up the courage to ask you out, but just as he was about to speak, he accidentally tripped over his own feet and stumbled into you.

You had caught him, and he looked up at you, feeling mortified. But then, you had smiled at him, and he felt like everything was going to be okay.

"Stephen, I think you're adorable," you said. "And I'd love to go out with you."

He felt like he was on top of the world. He couldn't believe that you had agreed to go out with him. He grinned from ear to ear, feeling like he was finally getting the hang of this whole romance thing.

As you walked away, he couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude wash over him. He knew that he had a lot to learn when it came to love, but he was willing to do whatever it took to make you happy.

He had finally found the missing piece to his life, and it was all thanks to you.

A/N I'm back baby!

🏷 @thewaithfuckingannoyme @evelyn-kingsley @moonlight-ee  @ironstrange1991