#defender strange fic

[ironstrange1991]

Safe Place

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Things don't always go the way we want. The reader learns this the hard way and Stephen is the only one that can make her feel better.

Word Count: 2,5k

Warnings: None.

A/N: Another self-indulgent fic inspired by another bad day. I'm just really happy to have something to post. I hope you guys like it and have a good read ;)

Tears had been streaming down your face and soaking your pillow for what seemed like hours since you had gotten home after a terrible day where everything had gone apocalyptically wrong. You were relieved to be home in the first place, but at the same time you were disappointed enough that you didn't feel right about being there.

You knew that you had placed too much expectation on that day and that it was your fault for expecting too much from luck when you knew very well that in your life luck had never been with you. You just wanted to disappear. You wanted a hole to open in the ground and swallow you, but all you could do was cry your eyes out and that was exactly what you did until you fell asleep and woke up to the touch of a trembling hand in your hair and the baritone voice calling your name.

"Sweetheart" You heard Stephen calling you. "I barely saw you today. I didn't know you were already here. Are you hiding from me?" He dismissed the question with a light and caring tone, but you knew he was worried. You didn't look at him as you answered.

"I want to die, Stephen." You said, giving in to the tears and hiding your face in the pillow.

"Oh sweetheart! Things didn't work out the way you expected, huh?" He asked and you felt the bed dipping.

"It's my fault. I should listen to MJ and stop putting so much hope into things that I know will never happen. I always get disappointed and never learn."

He let out a heavy sigh.

"Come here." He asked, touching your hair and you crawled so you could lay your head in his lap. "Why don't you tell me exactly what happened?"

But you didn't want to talk about it. It was like by doing so you were accepting it was real, and you didn't want it to be real. So you just shook your head.

"Okay. How about I tell you about my day? Would you like that?"

You nodded.

"Well, Wong and I spent the morning training a group of masters who are going on a mission for the first time. They are good, they just need to gain practice, and the mission is not that difficult. I believe everything will be fine." He said as he gently ran his fingers through your hair.

"After that, I got a call from Stark asking me to come over there to help identify a magical artifact they found in the hands of Hydra. It was an ancient relic that disappeared from the London Sanctum hundreds of years ago. You can imagine Wong's happiness when I took it straight to the Kamar Taj."

You could feel the lump in your throat getting less tight as he spoke. Not only was his voice soothing and pleasant, but you enjoyed listening to him talk about his sorcerer stuff. It was another world entirely and at that moment all you needed was to distance yourself from your reality and to be immersed in his.

"Let me see what else..." He said and you waited. "Oh, I almost forgot! Stark is throwing a party at the end of the month and he insists that we both go. I could have said that I'll be on a mission, but I know you like spending time with your Avengers friends, so I confirmed our attendance. Did I do wrong?"

You shook your head and he chuckled softly. "I knew you'd want to go. Let me see... what else? I had cold pizza for breakfast and I ventured into the kitchen to make something for lunch because I was starving."

That caught your attention and you waited for him to tell you what he had cooked.

"Tuna spaghetti. It didn't turn out as good as yours. I think I overcooked it. It was sticky, but it was what I had and it satisfied my hunger. You know I'd rather eat your food anyway and at least I didn't burn the house down."

You smiled to yourself and turned around to look at him. Your eyes were still wet with tears, but you were calmer and the heaviness in your heart was replaced by warmth. "I love you." You whispered reaching out to touch his face. There was a frown on his forehead that slowly faded and he smiled back.

"I love you too, sweetheart." He replied as he continued to caress your hair. "Feeling a bit better now?"

You nodded. "It's amazing how you can do that."

He cocked his head to the side. "Do what?"

"Change my mood just by talking to me."

"And caressing your hair. That sure helps." He said with a cocky smile.

You smiled back at him. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Did you know that? You found me at my lowest and changed me forever. I know I'm not an easy person, that this anxiety and mood swings are constant and that I make you worried most of the time..."

"Sweetheart..."

"Let me say this. Please." You asked, bringing your fingers to his mouth to shut him up.

"I know I need you much more than you need me. I know I shouldn't say this, but I feel like I can't live without you. Or maybe I can, but I don't want to have to find out."

You sighed deeply, trying to contain the wave of emotion that was threatening to spill over your eyes. "Today was a horrible day. Everything went so wrong that it would be comical if it wasn't so fucking annoying and heartbreaking. But at the same time I know that no matter how bad things get, I will always have this home to come back to and when I say home I'm not talking about the house, I'm talking about you. You are my home and my comfort, Stephen. My safe place and I love you with all the strength of my being and if for all this love you give me I have to pay by cooking you a decent meal, I'm more than happy with the bargain."

"Can I talk now?" He grumbled and you took your hand away from his mouth. He was trying to keep the same confident face as before, but there was a whole world of emotions behind his blue eyes and you saw his throat bobbing a few times. "First of all, you'll never have to figure out whether or not you can live without me because, sweetheart, I'll never leave and I'll never let you go." He sighed, trying to compose himself, and then continued, "Secondly, I want you to know that you're not a burden to me and I don't think you need me any more than I need you. You say I saved you at your lowest, but you forget that you've saved me from myself so many times. I changed you? You've changed me too, love. You've made me a better man, you've taught me that love can be a good thing and that I don't need to be in control of everything all the time. You've made me let my guard down and allow myself to love and be loved. To care for you and having you care for me is the greatest achievement of my life. You're my home too, sweetheart. My love, my best friend, my everything. It's safe to say that neither of us are easy people." He finished with a smirk. "We just complement each other so well."

You nodded, feeling your eyes fill with tears again, but you smiled. "Thank you."

His smile widened, "You're welcome, sweetheart. Now get up and go take a shower and I'll order some food. I'm sure you'll feel better after that."

You sat up and stretched before standing up. "I'm already feeling better, actually." You answered honestly. "If you're not in a hurry, I can cook you something. You must be dying to eat some decent food."

He seemed a bit surprised by your offer, but smiled happily. "Really? And what will you do?"

"It'll depend on what's in the fridge."

He nodded, "Okay. I'm in."

"But there's something I want in return." You said, taking his hand and pulling him to stand up. You pulled him close to you, letting him tower over you, and rested your hand on his chest.

"And what is it?" He asked, already knowing the answer very well.

"You. I want you to come take a shower with me."

He hummed, lifting your chin to make you look directly at him.

"I thought you were sad," he teased.

"I am. And really mad, that's why I need some physical love. You know?"

He chuckled. "Alright, love. I think I can provide that for you."

You barely waited for him to answer and dragged him into the bathroom with you. Your mood swings sometimes confused even you, but if there was one thing that was certain about your depressive crises, it was that they always ended in sex. It was your body's way of balancing things out, exchanging cortisol for oxytocin, and you were fine with that. More than fine, in fact.

After the shower - and what ended up becoming a long lovemaking session - the two of you got dressed in comfortable pajamas and ended up in the kitchen. You wanted to prepare something decent and nutritious, after all Stephen was a tall and strong man and you knew that his body needed more than the empty calories of two slices of pizza and some tuna spaghetti, but when you looked in the fridge you realized what you had already feared. You were practically out of food.

"Oh Stephen, we forgot to go to the grocery store." You said dejectedly, but your eyes found a piece of bacon and some cheese and you sighed in defeat. It seemed that the nutritious food would have to wait for tomorrow.

"I can make mac & cheese. It has bacon, we can fry it really crispy and add it to the recipe. I know it wasn't what you expected..."

Stephen approached, hugging you from behind and taking advantage of the fact that your hair was tied up, he gave you a little kiss on the back of your neck. That never failed to give you goosebumps.

"Anything you prepare for me will be delicious, I'm sure. And I love mac & cheese. It's fine by me."

You turned to look at him "Are you sure? There's still time to order food if you want."

He shook his head "I'm sure. Unless you changed your mind. I know you've had a long day, sweetheart."

But before he finished speaking you were already grabbing the necessary ingredients from the fridge. "I did, but I'm feeling much better now. Your mac & cheese will be ready in fifteen minutes, and I promise it will be way better than your sticky tuna spaghetti."

He chuckled, letting go of your waist and stepping away, opening a cabinet door and grabbing one of your ceramic pots. "I'm going to put the water on to boil. I don't think you can go wrong with that." He informed and you let out a soft laugh.

"Don't forget the salt." You said as you grabbed a knife and began to chop the bacon into small cubes.

"Before or after it boils? I never remember."

"After." You replied, watching as he turned on the stove. It was quite a sight: Stephen Strange dressed in nothing but pajama pants, his hair wet from the shower, his back marked by your nails, his neck marked by love bites you had left on him, doing banal and domestic things in the kitchen. He may have been a sorcerer, a master of the mystical arts, and protector of the Sanctum, but what made you fall more and more in love with him each day were those little moments when he was completely ordinary.

You got distracted while finishing chopping the bacon and cheese and were surprised by his arms wrapping around your waist. He didn't say anything, he just hugged you from behind, gave you a kiss on the back of your neck and laid his head on your shoulder, and that act made you melt. You continued your task with a deliberate slowness so that you wouldn't have to move away from him, but eventually you finished chopping everything.

"Steph... I need..."

But he held you tighter in his arms, humming, "Just one more minute. I just want to stay like this for one more minute."

You chuckled, dropping the knife and reaching your hand up to his hair, stroking it slowly. "As if you didn't have me for an hour in that bathroom." You said, and he groaned as if the memory of what you did was too good to mention.

"It's not the same, sweetheart." He said, lifting his head to speak in your ear, "Sometimes I just want to be close to you like this. It's not sexual."

You felt your heart flutter in your chest and your knees went weak. "Does that mean the great Doctor Strange sometimes needs cuddles?"

He gave your ear a light nibble to tease you back, "Sometimes... yes."

You nodded, turning to look at him and cupping his face. "You deserve all the cuddles in the world, Steph. But right now you need to decide what you want more. Cuddles or mac & cheese?"

He sighed exaggeratedly. "Such a hard choice." He said, pretending to think, "But I think I'll have to choose mac & cheese." He responded with a smirk and let go of you. You stood on your tiptoes to kiss his lips and then stepped away, returning to your mission.

Fifteen minutes later, the two of you were sitting at the table to eat. Stephen had chosen a bottle of red to open and you allowed yourself a glass that he generously poured before pouring his own and sitting down.

"It's always so rewarding to sit at the table to have dinner with you after a day of doing the things I do." He confessed, sipping from his glass and allowing himself a bite of the mac & cheese. "Oh this is delicious!"

You smiled as you watched him devour a second bite. This was your favorite part of cooking for him. It might have been a little weird, but you really loved watching him eat, especially when it was something you had cooked for him.

You allowed yourself a bite too and smiled contentedly. "Okay, this is really good."

"I told you!" He said, smiling, and you found yourself thinking that it was possible to endure the bad days and the terrible days, as long as you had Stephen by your side. After all, he was the only one who could make you feel good even when everything around you seemed to be falling apart. He saved you from the world and especially from yourself, and you could see yourself going on as long as he was there for you.

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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[dipplinduo]

Sweet and Sour Dipplins

Why do I have this idea that no one can understand Juliana's applin like even pokemon are like what the heck dude when it gets really angry like it releases demonic noises that not even other applin's make but Juliana is just like he's my special guy don't worry he don't bite while everyone else is wondering what sort of demonic entity is possessing applin...

Also the idea of Drayton trying to get a selfie of Juliana and Kieran sleeping but failing is hilarious to me. I saw an headcanon of Kieran and Carmine's eyes glowing in the dark so the image of Drayton about to take a selfie when this demonic yellows open being like don't even think about it cracks me up

Oh my God the first paragraph made me laugh so hard and then I finally calmed down and then I got to your second one and just laughed more. My ribs hurt???

[vickiee-mcmuffin]

A helping hand

Word count: 1.4k

Pairing: Defender Strange x Female Reader

Trope: Fluff

A/N: I know I did a fic like this for OG Stephen, but I wanted to do this idea for each variant because I thought it would be a nice idea for each Stephen. Thank you once again to @strangelockd for helping me out with ideas <3

Summary: You notice Stephen is struggling with his hands before he needs to leave for a meeting. So you decide to help him out.

You had been sound asleep, wrapped up in your soft blankets, your back pressed against Stephen's chest. But you were suddenly awoken by the blaring sound of Stephen’s alarm going off. You felt Stephen shifting, the arm he had wrapped around your waist pulling away as he moved to turn off his alarm. Once he had turned the alarm off, he planted a gentle kiss on your hair before he got out of bed, the action making you smile. 

Stephen had to be up early for a meeting with the Defenders. It was a regular occurrence, happening at least two or three times a week.

You planned on getting some more sleep though. You didn’t have to be up for work for at least another two hours. So, you got comfortable, ready to let sleep take over again. But your eyes shot open when you heard a slight crashing sound coming from the en-suite bathroom, followed by Stephen muttering the word “shit” under his breath. 

Moving quickly, you pulled back the covers before making your way over to the bathroom to ensure Stephen was okay. When you made it, you saw Stephen was already dressed in his black and red robes, but his hair was still loose, his long locks draped across his shoulders. You noticed his hairbrush and hair tie in the sink, and you also noticed his hands shaking as he stood there in front of the large mirror looking defeated. 

“Stephen,” you said softly. “Are you okay?” 

Stephen turned to look at you, a look of pain clear as day on his face. “Not really, sweetheart. I need to leave soon and my hands are hurting. I can’t even do my hair.” 

Sending him a sad smile, you walked closer to him, stopping when you were just inches apart. “Do you want me to help you?” 

“Are you sure? I feel terrible about waking you up because of my issues.” 

“Of course I’m sure, Stephen. I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t sure,” you told him. 

Stephen sent you a smile. “Thank you.” 

You then moved over to the sink, grabbing the hairbrush and hair tie before grabbing the little stepping stool in the corner of the room. Placing the stool behind Stephen, you stepped on it so you could reach Stephen’s hair. You gently brushed at his strands, getting rid of any knots and tangles that could’ve been created as he slept. You always loved playing with Stephen’s long hair. He had grown it out long before you met him, because he always had trouble cutting it due to his hands. The look definitely suited him, though.

Once you had finished brushing through his hair, you put down the brush before grabbing at his hair gently. You put his hair into a ponytail as he would usually have it and tied it up with the hair tie. 

Then you looked at his reflection in the mirror and smiled. “All done.” 

“Thank you, so much,” Stephen said before he smiled back. 

You kissed his cheek before stepping off the stool, putting it back where you got it from. In the corner of your eye, you could see Stephen trying to leave, but you quickly moved to grab his arm, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Where are you going?” you wondered.

“I need to leave for my meeting,” Stephen explained. 

You shook your head at him. “Not before I help ease the pain in your hands. I’m not going to let you be in pain all day, Stephen.” 

Stephen sent you a sweet smile, and you could tell by his face that he was grateful for you doing this for him. Grabbing one of his scarred hands, you noticed the tremor in his hand as you led him back over to the sink. 

But you let go of his hand briefly to fill the sink with warm water, just enough for his hands to soak in. Then you gently placed his hands into the water, and you heard him sigh in relief as soon as his hands made contact with the water. You let his hands soak for a good five minutes before you pulled them out and dried them with a towel. 

Grabbing the massage oil from the little bathroom cabinet, you poured some onto your right hand before putting the bottle back. You rubbed your hands together, coating your hands with the oil before grabbing one of Stephen’s again. Gently massaging at his skin, you made sure to be extremely careful as you traced over each and every one of his scars. You didn’t want to hurt him. 

You had done this for him before on many occasions. You remembered the first time you helped him with the pain in his hands. It was your third date, and Stephen always wore gloves when you went out on dates, and you never knew why he did it until this particular date. You had noticed he was acting a little off all night. He was clenching his fists and he was struggling to hold his drink whenever he went to take a sip from his glass. You had asked him many times that night if he was okay, and every time you asked, he told you he was fine. But you knew he was far from that. 

Eventually, he confessed to you that he had damaged hands and they were hurting him. He took off his gloves and showed you, and you gasped at the sight of all the scars covering his hands. You asked him if you could hold them and he nodded. Scanning his hands, you eyed each and every scar that covered his skin. It looked painful. 

As you were checking out his hands, he also mentioned that he was a little embarrassed about telling you about his hands. He was worried that you would find it off-putting and leave him and laugh at him when you saw all the scars covering his skin. 

But you didn’t. You had gently caressed his hands, being oh so careful as you traced his scars with your fingers. You brought each hand to your lips, kissing at his scars before you told him that his hands were beautiful.

That night you had decided to take him back to your apartment to help him with the pain in his hands. And it was also the night when you and Stephen had shared your first kiss. 

You smiled at the memory as you came back to reality and continued on with massaging Stephen’s hands. You worked on one hand at a time, massaging the back of his hands and his fingers until you started to notice the tremor in his hands settle. 

When you were finished, you cleaned up any leftover oil on his hands before you looked up at Stephen. You sent him a smile when you noticed he was already looking at you with a bright smile on his face. 

“How are you feeling now?” you wondered, hoping the massage had helped with the pain. 

“So much better,” Stephen told you, and his words made you smile again. 

“That’s good to hear.” 

You then emptied the sink before you both left the room, and Stephen was getting ready to leave. Before you let him leave though, you stood on your tiptoes and cupped his face as you kissed his lips. 

You felt Stephen smiling against your lips as he kissed you back, his hands resting on your hips. Stephen was the one to break the kiss, and you whined when his lips left yours. You sent him a pout and he let out a hearty chuckle. 

“I wish I could stay here longer, sweetheart. But I must get to my meeting with the Defenders,” Stephen told you. 

“I know,” you sighed. 

You decided to give him one last hug before he left. Wrapping your arms around him, you held him tightly as your head rested on his chest. You felt Stephen’s own arms wrap around you, pulling you in that little bit closer.

“I love you, Y/N. Thank you for helping me with my hands.” 

You looked up at him and smiled. “You’re welcome, Stephen. And I love you, too. So much.” 

You then pulled away and watched as Stephen opened up a portal to where he needed to go. But before he stepped through it, he sent you one final smile. 

“I’ll see you later, okay?” 

You nodded and with that, Stephen walked through the portal and closed it behind him. You hated to see him go, but you knew he was a busy man. With nothing else to do, you then decided to shower and get dressed before you needed to leave for work. 

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[fanartka]

Imagine that Defender fell through the portal not dead, but badly wounded, and not into world 616, but into Sinister's destroyed lair. The first living person in decades! Well, almost alive.

I think Sinister would have pulled him out of the world of the dead by the ponytail, just so as not to be alone again. And he would take better care of him than a mother would take care of a sick baby. He wouldn't take his eyes off him. Neither day nor night.

Maybe Defender’s wounds would have healed quickly, but only the last two nerve cells would have remained from the nerves.

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

When universes collide.

Warnings: canon typical violence, reference to Avengers: Infinity War and Endgame and jealous Defender Strange.

A/N: This is a little plot bunny that was racing around in my head and I hope you enjoy it.

Rafael Barba had experienced his fair share of mysteries as an ADA and while he was able to solve some of them; the ones he couldn’t solve haunted him.

The mystery that was currently confounding him was how you dealt with situations where your two lives collided.

The SVU squad all knew about your status as an Avenger. Rafael had been meaning to reach out to you and offer support because he could see how much Thanos’ Snaps had affected you. Every time he tried to talk to you about it, there was either a case the squad needed to deal with or a supernatural crisis that you had to resolve.

Today proved to be no different. Rafael had planned to talk to you before the trial but he’d overslept. Then, when he was in the middle of a cross examination, a multi limbed monster crashed into the courtroom from out of nowhere and began flailing around.

Many people screamed as they processed what was happening. You, Liv and Sonny were among the few who remained somewhat calm. Liv and Sonny hurriedly escorted the people out of the courtroom while you called out to the Judge.

“Do what you need to do, Detective (Surname). Just don’t make a mess.” He shouted as he too was escorted out of the courtroom.

At that moment, three men stepped out of a large, golden circle that also appeared out of thin air. Two of the men looked uncannily similar; the only difference between them was that one had a ponytail and the robes they wore.

“What’s your plan?” One of the men barked. With a jolt, Rafael realised that it was Doctor Stephen Strange who had spoken.

“Containment spell mixed with a deaging and shrinking spell,” you yelled back. You lit up your hands with magic and the men did the same. Moments later, your spell slammed into the monster. A clear prism formed around it and as it shrunk, so did the monster until the monster had shrunk to a miniature size.

Rafael identified the moment the spell ended. The small monster zoomed into your grasp and you gazed at it almost fondly.

“You know, when it’s not striking out with its limbs, it’s kind of cute.”

“You are not keeping it as a pet. It could be dangerous in ways we don’t know about.”

You unwillingly handed the monster to Stephen, who grasped it gingerly.

“Wong will fill you in. I’ll go put this back.” Stephen disappeared in a whirl of colour.

“We must depart.” The man named Wong stated gruffly. “At Kamar-Taj, we can begin to unravel the mystery that brought this Stephen to our world.”

Rafael’s jaw dropped open, “Two Stephen Stranges? This world can barely handle one.”

Rafael’s eyes met yours. He wanted you to reassure him that it’d be okay; that you wouldn’t be walking into something you weren’t prepared for. The more rational side of him knew that you couldn’t realistically promise that.

“The Judge’ll be impressed. The courtroom is minimally damaged.”

The other Strange moved to stand opposite you, blocking Rafael’s view of you and ensuring you focused on him.

“The longer I stay here, the greater the probability that a tear in the multiverse occurs and destroys both our worlds.”

Rafael heard you exhale heavily.

“Tell Liv and Sonny…”

“I will,” Rafael promised, knowing what you were going to say. Despite his desire for answers, he knew that he’d have to wait to get them.

A third portal appeared and you stepped through it. Rafael caught a glimpse of an old building before the visiting Stephen shifted to face him. There was something chilling in his gaze, like a warning to Rafael to stay away from this part of your life because he would not be able to understand it.

Then the portal closed and Rafael was left standing in the courtroom alone.

[couldntbedamned]

A Sweet Escape (To Better Days)

Pairing: Stephen Strange/Reader, Strange Supreme/Reader, Defender Strange/Reader, Supreme Strange/Reader, Sinister Strange/Reader

Summary: While it at first it weighed heavily on her, the knowledge that five of the most powerful beings in the multiverse were with her instead of protecting all of reality, she couldn’t deny the thrill that also came with that. The universe truly revolved around her. Her loves revolved around her and everything she was, she had, she did was for them in return.

Warnings: Kidnapping, Obsession, Sexual Content, Spanking, Blatant disregard for responsibilities to multiple realities

Note: This isn’t really a prequel to There's Only Butterflies (Take Me Away), so much as it’s a companion piece, I suppose. In my mind they simply go together.

Stephen was her first.

It wasn’t as if she’d been waiting for Mr. Right, marriage, or anything so sentimental. There had been plenty of opportunities, but sex just hadn’t seemed important. She had her vibrators and her imagination. Men, from what she’d experienced, were simply more trouble than they were worth.

Until Stephen.

Stephen had flown - literally - into her life and everything she’d known had turned upside down.

She’d been captivated by him. He was intelligent, charming, handsome, and just a little bit mean. Which would be a red flag to anyone else but just set tingles afire deep in her belly.

Why he’d settled on her of all people, she didn’t know, but after the first time he’d taken her, moved in her, filled her, she’d decided it didn’t matter.

Sex with Stephen was better than any orgasm she’d wrung from herself with her vibrators. He was unrelenting, demanding her pleasure several times over before he’d take his own. Passing out from sheer pleasure? Yeah, apparently not something that only happened in books.

She lived with him in the Sanctum, days and nights filled with time spent together reading, talking, fucking. He could be fairly useless with words - especially the three words most people held above all. There was something in his eyes that told her he wanted to say the words but couldn’t stop from saying the wrong thing or just saying nothing at all. It never mattered to her; his actions said more than simple words ever could. Why insist on silly little words when he bared his soul to her in every way that truly mattered?

He had to dash off to save the world, obviously, but he always came back to her. They’d inevitably end up fucking for hours, as if to reaffirm that he was still alive.

Strange found them, fittingly, she thought, on a chilly and storming Halloween evening.

At first, she thought the ritualistic sex had gone terribly wrong. (Or wonderfully right. What? She was horny and, thanks to the magic, unable to get off until Stephen finished his part of the ritual by finishing inside her.)

“The Runes of Rapitu,” Strange had said, circling around them. He didn’t look well, this version of Stephen. His face was leaner, the circles under his eyes purple and pronounced. Even his Cloak appeared almost feral. “A little on the nose for Samhain, isn’t it?”

Unashamed of his naked form, Stephen stood, conjuring his shields. “This isn’t your universe.”

“I have no universe,” Strange replied. His eyes raked over her nude body as it glistened in the candlelight. “I see you have one, though.”

He studied the runes intently, each flaring to greater life under his gaze, the glow red rather than orange. “What is it you’re hoping to bind?”

Shakily, she fingered the torq around her neck. “A new relic.”

“Allow me to assist you,” Strange said suggested. He caught her gaze and oh how she found herself wanting him! ��Or I can simply absorb your magic for my own and continue on my miserable existence. It’s your choice,” he said to her. “But the loss of you would be a tragedy.”

Her? Her and not Stephen, the Sorcerer Supreme?

“You’ve already lost her, haven’t you?” Stephen asked, lowering his shields.

“Yes, and it led to losing everything,” Strange answered, never taking his eyes off of her. “Do not take her for granted, we - your reality - cannot withstand her loss.”

At her nod, Stephen parted the runes and Strange stepped into the circle, divesting himself of his robes as he did so. His Cloak went to join their Cloak off to the side.

Between the two of them, there wasn’t a coherent thought in her head until the ritual was complete. All she’d known was the feel of hands on her, two scarred and shaking and the others elegant and sure along with their cocks taking her, worshiping with her as they imbued magic and protection and strength into the torc and paid their homage to Rapitu. She was little more than a blissed-out, satiated mess, dripping of them both and the newly charmed relic buzzing and warm around her neck when all was said and done. Stephen and Strange surrounded her and took their time bringing her back to herself as she was washed and dried and protected. She woke between them and after kissing Stephen, turned to Strange.

“Stay.”

Months of bliss followed Strange’s arrival into her and Stephen’s world.

Strange touched her whenever the opportunity presented itself - a hand on her shoulder, the small of her back, no touch was ever too small. He kissed her as if doing so could wipe clean the fact that he’d destroyed. an. entire. universe. in the name of some version of her she’d never known.

Stephen, already the most jealous man she’d ever known, had assured her he wasn’t envious of Strange. “He’s me,” Stephen said, watching as Strange devoured her pussy like a man starved of water, drawing out quaking release after quaking release until she couldn’t lift her head in her exhaustion. “How could I possibly be jealous of myself?”

The two of them took turns whenever there was a threat to reality or a day that needed saving. They were skilled enough to hide the differences in front of the outside world… but not to her. She could always tell them apart.

The arrival of another variant, her Defender, came on a bright and sunny day. She was running from an alien invader on a rare trip out of the Sanctum when he appeared like a righteous angel, harnessing the brightness of the sun and saving her life. Who needed the sun when she had her very own Sol ready to slay any demons that might haunt her?

Strange and Stephen were unsure, but her Sol’s devotion to her could not be questioned.

“I was fighting a giant eyeball,” he told them over drinks. “I killed it but there was an interdimensional portal that sucked me through. I don’t know how to get back.” He looked at her, expression soft. “And I don’t know if I even want to.” He’d lost her too, she realized.

“You saved my life,” she said. “As far as I’m concerned, you can stay for as long as you want.”

He couldn’t swap places with the others out in the world since she put her foot down on his hair.

“You’ll break my heart if you cut it,” she pouted playfully. “I like to run my fingers through it.”

He smirked at Stephen and Strange. “I like when you pull it, too.”

He stayed inside the Sanctum with her, keeping her busy whenever Stephen or Strange was away protecting the reality. He was rigid and unyielding in many ways, absolute in his belief that it was his duty to keep her safe and cared for. If he told her to do something, he expected it to be done. And the thing was, his orders were never unreasonable, not really.

The first time he hauled her over his lap, vanished her shorts, and spanked her ass to a cherry red after she’d disobeyed him was… well, it was an experience. And then he’d comforted her, asked how he could help her do the right thing going forward. She hadn’t been angry with him, instead, she’d felt… cherished.

“I will always protect you,” he promised with a tender kiss to her lips that had her near tears all over again. “Even if it’s from yourself.” Then he made love to her, showed her just how good things could be if she stayed good for him, trusted him to take care of her.

At first, she ignored the cracks in the world that started appearing. If her lovers weren’t worried, why should she be?

They were actually more worried than they ever let her know.

Travelers started to appear, those who didn’t belong with voices insistent about the threat of annihilation, of how sacred timelines were diverging and converging. Her lovers were having visions of universes disintegrating into nothing but blackest chaos even as reality tried to re-forge itself again and again. She herself began to dream of losing everything until she was alone in nothingness, far away from her loves.

They were not meant to live in the same reality; she knew that to be true. But surely, they could stand against the inevitability of the multiverse ensuring its own survival at all costs?

Then parts of the population started to vanish, parts of people themselves started to glitch - there was no other word to describe the horror that was looking at someone only to see them turn slightly and be missing an eye or a mouth, replaced only by a void or whatever passed for normal in another reality.

The universe was about to end, and she knew it was because of her, because they’d never leave her.

She planned to run, to leave them because who was she against the fate of the multiverse?

She never got the chance to run. They’d planned, too.

“We’re so sorry, Cielo,” Defender whispered as he bound her in magic so Stephen and Strange could bind her further, sigils appearing on her skin and the world fading around her. “When you wake up, everything will be as it should be, always.”

“Sleep, my love,” Stephen implored. “Sleep and dream of us.”

“We’ll be here with you the whole time; we’ll never leave you.”

The universe she was born into was created over the course of billions, perhaps trillions of years.

It only took her lovers a little over three to create her new one.

She awoke to a world unlike any she’d ever seen or even imagined.

“It’s yours,” Stephen told her. “Everything here is for you.”

“We hope you like it.”

The voice was Stephen’s but new, the cadence unique.

“You’re another Stephen,” she whispered, stunned. He was so similar and so unique among them. She had never seen him clean-shaven, nor a blue Cloak. “How?”

“We’re all Stephen, my Dear,” yet another Stephen said. “That’s how the multiverse works.” His hair was wilder, his goatee grown into a pointed beard. He looked sinister, in a way, though he was undoubtedly, like he said, a Stephen.

“You found a way to stop the incursions?” She asked, looking to her first three. “How? I thought more than one variant couldn’t co-exist in a given reality. The universes have rules!”

Her selfishness had nearly broken her universe, after all.

“That is true,” Strange said. “So, we created a universe where we could make our own rules.”

Something sick settled in her belly. A new universe?

“What about ours?” she asked Stephen. “Are they… what have you done?”

“We’ve repaired the damage we were creating as best we could,” Clean-shaven said. “Some damage was too great in one or two realities, but they’ll have several billion years before they’ll even start to fade.”

“The others are safe now,” Sinister said. “As long as we remain here, they’ll remain safe.”

“And what is here, exactly?”

“A pocket universe,” Defender says. “We exist outside of the multiversal branches and therefore we cannot damage them.”

“And who exactly constitutes ‘we’?” she asked.

“You, and us,” Strange answered, motioning between the five of them. “Just the six of us, together forever.”

She turned and ran, ignoring their calls after her. She pushed open the doors and flung herself out into this new world they’d created, terrified because who did that?

They hadn’t even chased her down, simply let her exhaust herself in this new, remarkably stunning universe they’d created. She’d run through a forest of pure white trees with purple foliage and azure grass and then a field of orange clover that never seemed to end only to find herself at what looked like a safe little cottage. The inside, however, was right where she’d started.

“There’s no running,” the clean-shaven one said when Sinister blocked her exit and Defender embraced her from behind. “Every path will bring you back to us.”

“Don’t lead me to punish you, Cielo. This is our home and you’re safe here.”

“I want to go home,” she insisted. It was part-truth, mostly-lie because how could she ever leave them - even the newest two - but how could she let them abandon their roles?

“You are home,” Strange said. “Your home is here now, with us.”

“This is the only way,” Stephen told her, stepping close and caressing her cheek. “Dearest Love this is the only way.”

She nodded, cautiously.

She ran a few times after that.

It never mattered. They either caught her, or she ended up back where she started. Either way she found herself over Defender’s lap, sobbing as he punished her for running. Then she’d cry in other ways as they demonstrated just how she was theirs.

Supreme, as she thought of the clean-shaven one, was as controlling as her Sol is protective. If no one else was around, he would pick out her clothing, her food, anything. He had to be around her all the time, much like Strange but there was a desperation to it that Strange has never had.

“Isn’t this universe supposed to be about me?” She once asked after his suggestion they visit the beach rather than her offered trip into one of the many cities that existed just for her.

“Do you dislike what we do?” He asked her in response. “Have I displeased you?”

The thing was, he hadn’t. He never did. The clothes he chose for her were inevitably perfect, the food the best she’d ever tasted. Even the books he suggested for her were fantastic reads and as she lay with him massaging (unneeded) sunscreen into her back, she could admit that he was perfect for her.

She was always sure to tell him whenever they were in bed, where he again devoted himself to her pleasure, bringing tidal waves of bliss to crash over her again and again. “You’re so perfect for me.” His eyes would close then, peace stealing across his face at her words, as though they were a benediction.

If ever there was a lost soul in her universe it was her Sinister. The man had spent years searching for any kind of a happy ending, any scenario where he wasn’t miserable and alone and he looked at her as though she were his salvation. When he wasn’t overwhelming her, that was.

“I’ve searched for you,” he told her one afternoon when her other Stephens were away re-enforcing the protective barriers of their pocket universe. “It wasn’t just happiness I searched for, my Love. It was for happiness with you.”

“I suppose you’ve found me,” she said. He was broken and she didn’t know if she could ever fix him. He, like Supreme and Strange, had destroyed entire universes.

“I have,” he said, stepping closer, hands linked behind his back. It was his default position, she’d learned. “I have and I will never let anything take you away.”

“It’s not like I can ever escape.”

He barked out a harsh laugh but stilled her flinch with a blackened finger under her chin. “We’re your prisoners every bit as much as you’re ours.” He always told her the truth, in his own way.

He leaned in, claimed her lips with his, the scratch of his wild goatee rough against her skin.

He terrified her in a multitude of ways, but he kissed her in the very best of ways. Sex always left her bruised and marked and exhausted but she’d never deny she loved it. His touch was strong, this side of too hard, too much, too wild but every time she found herself pushing back in kind, even seeking out the abandon he offered. 

Time was both too short and infinite for her and her beloveds. Her Stephen, her Strange. Her Sinister, her Supreme, and of course, her dearest Defender.

While it at first it weighed heavily on her, the knowledge that five of the most powerful beings in the multiverse were with her instead of protecting all of reality she couldn’t deny the thrill that also came with that. The universe truly revolved around her. Her loves revolved around her and everything she was, she had, she did was for them in return.

They created a universe, rewrote the very rules of all of existence, simply for her. All so they could be with her, forever.

Yes, there were more versions of them, and those sorry souls (to use the phrasing both Sinister and Strange use) were no doubt protecting their respective realities. Her own monitored the multiverse whenever the mood struck them. They watched from their pocket universe, unseen but one occasionally dipping out to offer the briefest yet most crucial of assists before returning and then seeking her out.

“You are our most important reality,” her Defender, her Sol told her.

“But at the cost of trillions?” She once asked helplessly.

Could she be so selfish?

“We can’t go back into our realities without risking even greater casualties,” Stephen said as he helped remove her tunic. “Here, in our home, we are safe.”

“And because we are, so are countless other realities,” Supreme added, kissing down her neck.

“By keeping us here with you,” Sinister whispered against her ear, hand gliding down her front to dip into the waistband of the flowy pants she wore. “You are ensuring the continued survival of the multiverse.”

It was hard to argue with that. And hard to think when Strange was kissing her, coaxing her lips open so he could lick inside. And fuck her Defender was kissing up her bare back.

“Is it so terrible?” Strange pulled back to ask. “A life with the men who worship you, knowing that this life is keeping trillions upon trillions of lives safe?”

Sinister’s fingers busied themselves stroking through her wet folds, dipping in, and teasing.

“Oh, I suppose it’s just my burden to bear.”

They’re five men with the power of gods and yet she is the one who is worshipped.

[ethereance]

Allurance Monsters and Mana actors social media au part 2

<part 1

Part 3>

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

I need some input from both Authors and Readers of Doctor Strange fan fiction. I'm planning an answer for a prompt including Defender Strange, and though he's Sorcerer Supreme of his universe, I've been head canoning (for the sake of my fics) that he splits his time between Kamar-Taj and the New York Sanctum. Wong runs daily matters in Kathmandu while Stephen is in NYC or on a mission with the Defenders.

Please feel free to reblog this with the reasons for your answer.

[darkkitty1208]

Hello there, may I steal a bit of your time? I recently reread Defender Strange's comic and couldn't get this idea out of my head, so I'm asking ya out, can you please write something regarding this- Stephen was gathered from a battle field and SIMTony takes him to Tower with him after kicking the bad guy's ass and takes care of that worn out.

That's it. Thanks ya for hearing me out. Lots of love!

Thank you for the prompt, lovely! 💖 Super sorry it took quite a while. (I say, knowing full well it took longer than just 'quite a while' for me to finish this. *stares at my towering pile of WIPs and prompts sitting in my ask box that I've yet to finish*)

I feel like I've sort of lost touch on my writing style (and writing as a whole) a little bit but, hey, I finished this! Haha. 

Disclaimer: I haven't read the defenders or SIM comics yet, so this whole thing is just based on my assumptions of their characters. I'm only familiar with MoM's Defender Strange, and prompter seems okay if I'd write him instead, thankfully, so yeah. ^^ Feel free to point out anything that stood out, though!

TW: This fic contains NON-CONSENSUAL TOUCHING but NO RAPE.

~

Stephen stumbled back with a grunt, but quickly managed to catch himself before his back could land on the ground. Dodging the whip Mordo sent his way, he conjured twin mandalas over his wrists that glowed a bright blue. 

"It's not too late, Stephen!" the man called out, and slid his feet away from Stephen's attack. He took rapid, calculated steps towards the other sorcerer, getting close enough to loop his arm over the man's neck in a tight grip.

"You can still join me," he said, "we can work together."

Stephen struggled against him, clawing at the arm that constructed his breathing. 

"Like hell that would convince me," Stephen huffed out, strangled, and knocked Mordo's stomach by his elbow, who stumbled back, enough to let go of him. He panted, readying his next attack as Mordo stood back up. His limbs worked almost on their own volition as they danced their familiar dance in battle, and for a moment the only sounds echoing in the air were their grunts and puffs of air, the way their boots slid against the ground, the swish of their robes flapping at each turn, the way each new band and shield and mandala they conjured emanated familiar sparks. 

Just when Stephen thought he had the upper hand, one slip of his feet and a kick to his chest had him toppling to the ground with an 'oomph', and quickly found himself wrapped around bands. He let out a yelp as his hands were squeezed against his body, and struggled against the constraints. But it was to no avail, as it held a tight, inescapable grip around him. Struggling against it only proved to make the pain worse. 

It was useless, he thought, as he stopped his ministrations and settled on glaring at the eyes staring down on him. Mordo's stern eyes, looking straight at him, suddenly shifted at the sight, turning almost… soft, to his dismay, and Stephen hardened his glare in return.

"We could've been so good together," Mordo breathed out, almost in a whisper. "I didn't want it to end this way, Stephen. But you must know I have no other choice. You must know that this is for the greater good." 

Mordo lifted his hands, and Stephen knew that, at that moment, despite his panicked struggling, he couldn't do anything as the spell was about to be cast on him. It was a simple spell, really – even a novice could cast it – but it was a deadly one. It would render any sorcerer useless if cast against them, blocking their access to channelling interdimensional energy permanently, reducing them to what they once were before being introduced to the Mystic Arts. Mordo always had great capabilities, especially in terms of magic, but to think that he had managed to master that spell for such purposes was… beyond Stephen, to put simply. 

The spell wasn’t meant to incapacitate him, he knew that much. Mordo needed something more permanent – he couldn’t risk the possibility of all else. 

The spell, he knew, was meant to break him. 

“You should be grateful, you know. Many sorcerers have died at my hand in my quest to rectify what they have meddled in the natural law,” he remarked, and Stephen scowled at him. “I do not wish for you to fall in the same fate as they do, Stephen. You are like a brother to me. And perhaps… Perhaps so much more.”

His eyes flickered away for a moment, before they resumed their steely gaze towards him. 

Stephen turned his head to the side, clenching his eyes shut and taking in ragged breaths as he braced himself for the inevitable pain. His mind swirled about in a million ways to think of an escape, but he knew there wasn't any counterspell to this, knew that hoping would only lead to nothing. 

Mordo sighed. 

"It was the only way I could think of that would be quick and painless, Stephen," he said, "So please, consider this a mercy."

Before his mind could process the words, he felt a hit over the side of his neck that made him let out a choked sound. Just as he was about to lose consciousness, there was a sudden, almost electrifying flash of blue that blasted somewhere from beside him to hit against Mordo's head, and the last thing he heard was a familiar, menacing voice that drawled in a way that had always made the hair on his nape bristle. 

There was only one thought that flitted through his head as he finally lost consciousness; Tony. 

*.~ ◇ ~.*

Mordo stumbled to the ground as something blasted against him, head whipping about as he quickly looked around for its source.

He heard heavy footsteps thump against the ground, and it took a while for him to regain his footing to face whoever – or whatever – it was. Once he adjusted his vision, he noticed there seemed to be a sharp blue glow emanating as the smoke dissipated away from the shadowy figure that was stepping towards him. Mordo wasted no time and automatically went on fighting stance, his defences up in case the man prepared another surprise attack against him. He looked to the side, finding Stephen's unconscious, prone body on the ground a few feet away. 

"You really thought it'd be that easy to get your hands on him, did you?" The low voice said to the air. 

"Who are you?" 

The smoke cleared out. A very light blue, almost white, sort of liquid danced about to then solidify into an armour, its helmet forming around a grinning face. 

"C'mon. Everybody knows me," he said, a toothy smile on display but no emotions found in his eyes, his arms spread out. The smile dropped suddenly, and the next words were spoken in a way that could send shivers down anyone's spine: "Now back off. He's not yours." 

Mordo's eyes flicked hastily to Stephen's body, back to the man, trying to think of a quick way out. 

"Tony Stark," Mordo frowned, "I should have known Stephen had gained… unexpected allies. I didn't know he was so desperate." 

There were no possible ways to escape this, he thought, and begrudgingly decided to face him. Mordo conjured a band that whipped through the air and towards the man, but failed to have any intended effect as Stark flew up to avoid it. He conjured a couple of more blasts, which were easily avoided as Stark twirled about with little 'Woah!'s and an 'Oh! Almost got me!', occasionally forming a shield around him but ultimately left unscathed at each attack, as his laughter rang in Mordo's ears. Mordo continued to grunt at each conjured attack, getting irritated by the second. At some point, the laughter ended with a nonchalant sigh.

"Okay, it's getting boring now," he said, "My turn." 

He thrusts out his repulsors, whining a short warning before an electric flash of blue striked right ahead to send Mordo flying backwards before he could think of a way to dodge it. And then he blasted another, and another, slowly floating down to the ground as he did so, playfully experimenting different positions on each blast, humming a tune meanwhile. When he was satisfied, he took his time to step ever so slowly towards Mordo's body, which was lying on its side. He turned him over to lay on his back by nudging his side with a foot. Tony stared down at him, and then tilted his head to the side, huffed, and let a menacing smile slowly form on his lips. When Mordo tried to lean up and land a punch on his face, quite successfully, he clicked his tongue, wiped the blood trickling down the slight cut on his face, huffed again, and then carded a hand through his hair. He kicked the man then, straight in the stomach, and repeated so just a couple times. Just enough so that moving any muscle would hurt. And then he pressed his foot down over the sorcerer's chest, delighting in the pained wheeze and the cough that sent blood splattering about. He pressed his foot harder down, twisting it just so that he could hear another one of Mordo's wet, ragged cough, and made a sound that was intended as a delighted giggle but came out sounding like a huff as he leaned down to whisper: "Now let that be a lesson for you to never touch what's mine ever again." 

He gave the body a last kick, turning around just as Mordo's body rolled helplessly on the ground. 

"Well, that was easy," he huffed, dusting his hands off, and turned to look at Stephen's still unconscious body. "Now to claim my lovely prize…" 

The smile returned, but this time, something glinted in his eyes. 

*.~ ◇ ~.*

When Stephen came to, it was to the sight of bright, blue lights assaulting his eyes and vague, muffled sounds of what sounded like whirring machines filtering through his ears. His eyes shut closed against the onslaught of light almost on its own accord, and he quickly regretted shaking his head as it did nothing to lessen the pounding in his temples – if anything, it grew much worse. 

Gently, he fluttered his eyes back open, squinting as he adjusted to the lighting. He looked down on himself, noting the wrapped up and bandaged wounds over his body and the absence of his robes. 

“Ah, my sleeping beauty has finally awoken.” Stephen barely suppressed a flinch at the voice. “How was your sleep, sweetheart?”  

He tried to make out the blurry figure walking over to him – even though he already had a solid guess from the voice he had heard – and when the shifting blur of the man finally came to a focus, he lifted himself by the elbows. 

"T–" he tried to croak out, and then coughed when he realised his throat was dry as a desert. 

Tony sauntered over, grabbed a cup of water from a nearby bedside table, and gently lifted it to his lips, making a gesture with his head to urge Stephen to drink. Stephen stared at the cup, glared up at the engineer, and then snatched the cup with his own trembling fingers. If Tony saw the shaking in his hands and the way he tried desperately to look casual as the water splashed onto his fingers (and if anything, was failing to), he didn’t say anything. 

He did, however, huff out in amusement.  

Stephen downed the rest of the cup, and then placed it carefully upon the table Tony had taken it from. He felt the bed dip as the engineer sat beside him, and resisted the urge to scoot over and distance himself from the man. 

A calloused hand sneaked its way to a loose strand of hair on his face, tucking it over behind his ear in unsolicited gentleness. The same fingers – again, ever so gently – gripped his chin, leaning his head down to face the man. Tony traced a thumb over the cut on his lip, and Stephen tried not to bodily shiver. 

The smirk he earned, coupled with the intent stare of the man's steely blue eyes on his own, told him he had probably failed to do so. 

Tony’s eyes were a sharp blue, and now that Stephen was looking directly at it, he noticed there seemed to be something in it he couldn’t quite put his finger on. There was something buried in them, something sinister and twisted and wrong in a way that made him feel unsettled. 

"You cut your lip…" Tony mumbled, "Does it hurt, sweetheart?" 

"Stop calling me that," he spat out. 

"I can call my sweetheart whatever I want," was his response, followed with a nonchalant shrug. "Now, answer my question. Does it hurt?" 

"Not if you stop touching it like that." 

Tony hummed. 

"He hurt you…" Tony said, a sudden sternness in his voice, a sudden shift in his expression, a silent burning in his eyes. The grip on his chin tightened, and Stephen had to stifle a wince. Tony's face gentled at that, thumb moving to rub (not) soothingly over his jaw in apology. 

"What did you do to Mordo?" Stephen asked. If and whenever Tony was involved, nothing really ended well. Mordo was his business, after all – Tony had nothing to do with it. 

"Took care of him." was the only response he received. The hand gently made its way to card over his hair, pulling out his tie and settling over his nape. Tony pulled him forward, breath inching closer to each other.  "And now, I just need to take care of you." 

Stephen's breath stuttered as he exhaled. 

"Stop touching me." 

"But you aren't pushing me away."

"I still don't want you to." 

Tony smirked. 

"You can continue to deny yourself, sweetheart, but I know you want it." 

And that was the last straw for him. Stephen lifted his hand, tried to call upon his magic, but barely managed to create sparks before he realised the ever present tingle of magic in his fingers had faded. There was… something blocking his access to channel energy and conjure magic. What previously felt like a steady stream was now blocked by some sort of unbreakable dam. 

He inspected his hand, finding what seemed to be… a bracelet, of some sort. A quick check over his other hand confirmed that a matching one wrapped around his other wrist, effectively blocking him from channelling any of his magic. 

This wasn't any worse than Mordo's spell, he thought, and a sour expression took its place upon his face. 

"Like it?" Tony asked, hands finally pulled away. "Made them just for you." 

Stephen grunted in frustration, and attempted to swing a punch towards the man, only to find it unable to move. 

A chain formed from his wrist from what seemed to be nanites that crawled its way to attach to the headboard, the other following suit. Stephen tried pulling himself forward, only to be pulled back harshly as the chain suddenly shortened itself. He struggled against the constraints, for only God knows how many times in how many occasions he had that day, and tried not to growl in frustration as Tony just chuckled at him. 

The hand snaked back towards his chest, rubbing back and forth in a way that made acid burn in the back of his throat.

"Look at you," he said, "I like it when you struggle. It’s cute. I like having you like this, baby,” Tony smoothed out Stephen’s hair again, fingers tracing the lines of his face and down his cheekbone, thumb tracing his lips as those blue eyes flickered down on it. “Now be a good boy and stay still." 

Before Stephen could protest, his words were quickly cut short as a sudden, heavy feeling clouded his head. 

"Shh, it's alright. That's it, darling. That's it," he heard Tony murmur, voice slowly morphing away. 

"Wh… 've you d…" his tongue felt heavy, his voice felt far away. His vision was blurring out at the edges, eyes drooping, and Tony's voice sounded muffled when he spoke. 

"It's okay, sweetheart, it's okay. Just go back to sleep for now. Go back to sleep.”

~

Stephen: Fuck off. Don't touch me. 

SIM: 

SIM: Denial is a river in South Africa. You love me

Stephen: I literally told you to fuck off???

Once again super sorry took a while to get back to you, prompter. My writer self is not The Best at the moment and needs some time to get back to my past writing rhythm. There's no guarantee I'll be as active as last time?

But I really do hope you enjoyed this. <3 Despite the whole… 'lowering Defender's capabilities and overpowering SIM for plot purposes' thing. I really couldn't think of another way to write it without it seeming like that. :P 

[strangedreamings]

An overlooked gem

One outstanding fic writer who is criminally overlooked is BeautifullyObsessed at AO3, known as @sobeautifullyobsessed here. She writes some of the most heartwarming and heart-wrenching Stephen Strange fics out there, both Stephen x reader fics and Stephen x OFC fics. She knows Stephen's heart inside and out and it shows in her lushly-detailed stories.

[ironstrange1991]

You're My Comfort

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: The reader has a bad day at work and Stephen comes to take care of her.

Word Cont: 2,1k

Warnings: None, just fluff.

A/N: I am still struggling with authors block, but I'm happy for finishing this little something. It's not much, but I was in need of a comfort fic. Hope your guys like it and have a good read.

You arrived from work without even realizing how you managed to drive home. Stephen was busy talking to some Avengers in the living room and you just walked past them up the stairs and straight to your shared room.

You were too tired to even get undressed even though you knew you would feel better after a shower, but still all you could do was kick off your shoes and fall face down on the bed letting a wave of silent crying take over you.

You were tired of your job, tired of the way your boss seemed to suck out your soul along with all your energy, but at the same time you felt bad for feeling that way. After all, you should be grateful to have a job in the first place, or at least you should be grateful that your job doesn't put you in danger or be as physically draining as Stephen's. You lost count of how many times he came home injured and yet he never complained. You on the other hand, seemed like a crying little girl and thinking that way only made you feel even worse and it was a vicious cycle that you couldn't get out of. Feeling bad about feeling bad and so on.

You were still face down, tears silently streaming down your face, when you heard the soft creak of the door opening and closing and the muffled sound of boots on the floor announcing the approaching footsteps. You immediately turned your face away because you didn't want Stephen to notice you were crying and then you felt the mattress dipping.

He touched your arm gently.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" His baritone voice held a note of concern.

You didn't answer, you just shrugged your shoulders like you did when you were a child and your mother asked why you were crying. Many times you didn't even know why you were crying, but you cried anyway and that was exactly how you felt today.

You felt his hand on your head stroking your hair gently and before he could say anything, you crawled closer to him and laid your head on his lap wrapping your arms around his waist. He seemed to like it because his body shook with what you thought was a small laugh. Contrary to what your irrational side told you, Stephen didn't care about your anxiety crisis or those moments where you couldn't say exactly what was happening. He was already used to dealing with your fluctuating moods.

"Can you at least tell me you're okay, so I don't worry?" He asked and you nodded.

"You're okay then. Nothing bad happened?" He insisted and you nodded again.

"Good." He continued stroking your hair in silence.

"I know I've been working a lot these last few days, but if that's what's making you upset..."

"It's not that." You replied with a choked voice. Of course he would find a way to blame himself. When Stephen learned to be less selfish and egocentric, he simply turned completely the other way and became extremely altruistic, which you didn't like, much less approve of.

"Then talk to me, sweetheart. I don't like seeing you like this." His hand had now gone down to the middle of your back, playing with the strands of your hair.

"I'm just tired, I guess."

He sighed "You think so? Y/n you've been working non-stop for the last few weeks."

"There was nothing else to do. You weren't here most of the time and the company needed me."

You can almost see Stephen's eyes rolling back in his head. "They like to take advantage of you, that's what. You're too good for them."

You did not answer. You knew he was right, but you didn't want to give in. He returned his hands to your head and began to caress your scalp with his fingertips lightly and you let out an involuntary groan.

"Feels good, uh?" You could hear the smirk in his voice. Always so proud that he managed to turn you into a puddle of goo whenever he touched you.

"I'm exhausted. I need to sleep. I barely slept at all last night." You confessed to what he vehemently rebuked.

"You know I don't like seeing you in this state. You need to take better care of yourself."

You shook your head. "Right now I don't think I can take care of myself at all. I'm too tired."

He chuckled, surrendering to your charm and drama.

"Do you want me to run a bath for you or would you prefer the shower?"

He asked, already running his fingers through your hair to get it out of your face. He did his best to tie them into a bun.

"You will stay with me?"

"If you want. But you know where this is going to take us, don't you?"

You denied "No funny business tonight. I'm too tired."

He hummed "As you wish, love. Come."

He patted your shoulder for you to allow him to stand up and extended his arms to help you up.

"Too tired to walk." You grumbled and he let out a small laugh.

"Come on. I'll carry you, little girl."

You found somewhere within you the strength to smile and tease him, "Yes, daddy."

He scoffed, but picked you up bride style and took you to the bathroom. He sat you on the toilet and ordered "Raise your arms. Let's take these clothes off."

You obeyed and let yourself be undressed by him slowly. It was different. Although he was used to ripping off your clothes and fucking you senseless, in that moment he was actually being gentle and there was nothing in his eyes but affection.

"Get up so we can take off that skirt." He asked and you did as he ordered. He took off your panties too, leaving you completely naked for him. A light shade of red tinting your cheeks.

"Bathtub or shower?" He asked to be sure and added it right after. "There's no way I'm leaving your side."

You nodded "Bathtub. With lavender and bubbles. Lots of bubbles."

He nodded, but instead of doing the whole process like a normal person, he moved his fingers and the bathtub filled with hot water. With a smirk he snapped his fingers and the water turned lilac and your nostrils were invaded by the delicious smell of lavender as you watched the water fill with foam. "As you wish, madam. Come."

He gave you his hand and helped you get into the tub, and you moaned contentedly with the feeling of the hot water surrounding your body.

He quickly undressed in front of you and that was a sight you would never get used to. Your eyes devoured every inch of his body before he entered the bathtub and sat right behind you.

He moaned softly as well letting the hot water relax him completely.

"Christ, I needed this." He confessed and you leaned your back against his chest feeling yourself being hugged by his strong arms and you leaned your head back letting your eyes close for a minute.

"What a shitty day I had" You blurted out, earning a small laugh from Stephen.

"It is not funny"

He buried his face in your hair, "I know. Want to tell me about it?"

You sighed, "Nothing out of the ordinary happened. I think I'm just tired of that environment, those people. Of doing the work of two or three and not getting any recognition for it. I'm tired of leaving that place feeling empty as if I had left my soul there."

Stephen listened in silence. He was good at that, at listening silently and letting you vent. It was one of his many qualities.

"And I feel bad for feeling this way. It feels like I'm being ungrateful. I know I should be grateful for being in a job in the first place, but I can't feel grateful right now and on top of that I feel silly complaining about my silly problems when you have to deal with so much..."

"Hey, don't do that!" Stephen scolded you. "Don't belittle your problems by comparing them to the things I do. It's not fair. Your feelings are valid, sweetheart and there's nothing wrong with feeling the way you're feeling right now. We just need to think of a way to make it better because I've noticed that this days when your come home like this have become more constant. You're always too tired and sad and I don't like seeing you like that."

You sighed feeling his lips on your neck and your skin prickling.

"I think I just need to stop thinking for a few minutes. My mind is my worst enemy, you know. The more I think the worse I feel."

Stephen hummed and continued placing kisses on your neck "I can help with that." His hands went down to your breasts, caressing them lightly.

"I said no funny business." You scolded him and he giggled softly and you felt him conjure up a soft sponge still under the water and started rubbing your back and neck with it. You can't stop a little moan from escaping your lips.

"I don't deserve you, Steph." You confessed to what he hummed, using the sponge to rub your arms, your belly, your thighs, every place he could reach.

"I usually think the same thing when you take care of me."

"Guess we don't deserve each other then." You teased.

"Or we were made for each other. I like this option better."

"Because you're a romantic. You want to be tough, but deep down you're soft, Stephen."

He let out an incredulous laugh "I've been called many things, but romantic is the first time."

You smiled, keeping your eyes closed and reveling in the touch of his hands when he puts down the sponge and started massaging your shoulders gently. His hand was shaking, but you even liked that feeling.

"You're different with me." You insisted. "I watch you with everyone else and you're different when you're with me, sweeter and more affectionate."

He hummed petulantly. "You didn't expect me to treat Stark and Wong the way I treat my girlfriend, right?"

"It's not that. I just think you allow yourself to be your most natural self when you're with me and I like that."

"I like it too." He agreed kissing the back of your neck.

The two of you were silent for a few minutes, his hands continued massaging your shoulders lightly and although he couldn't put too much pressure on the act, it was enough to relax you. The sound of cars passing on the street occasionally broke the silence of the Sanctum, as well as the sound of the water that was slowly cooling and his calm and steady breathing.

Eventually your eyes started to get heavy and Stephen must have felt the way you let the weight of your body rest on his because he wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed the top of your head.

"Are you feeling better?" He asked genuinely worried.

You hummed positively and he sighed looking relieved.

"Good. Now I think we can finish here and go straight to bed, what do you think?"

You didn't have time to respond because your stomach growled embarrassingly loud to which Stephen let out a small laugh.

"Food first, then. Come." He asked and the two of you got out of the tub.

When you finished getting dressed, Stephen in just pajama pants and you in a nightgown, you ran to get under the covers and get comfortable.

"I'll get you something to eat. How about a sandwich?"

You nodded and then asked "What did you have for dinner?"

He shook his head "To be honest, I didn’t even remember to eat. It was a pretty busy afternoon."

You scolded him with a look, "Then I guess you can bring sandwiches for both of us."

Stephen nodded.

He came back a few minutes later with a plate with some sandwiches cut in halves, which you quickly devoured. When you both finished, neither of you was willing to get up, so Stephen just placed the plate on the bedside table and adjusted himself on the pillows, letting you lay on his chest.

"I know I've said this before, but you're so good to me, Steph."

He sighed, stroking your arm gently.

"I love you." You said, closing your eyes and feeling the tiredness of the day overwhelm you.

Stephen placed a kiss on the top of her head. "Taking care of you is what I love doing most, sweetheart. I love you. You have no idea how much."

You hummed softly "Yes I do because I love you just the same."

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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[geeky-politics-46]

So I am only a few followers away from 2,000...

So in honor of this & to try to tip myself over the 2k mark I want to dedicate the next few days to quick drabbles. Think the 5 sentence drabbles, but I always do five paragraphs instead.

Let's say submissions are open from now until Sunday (the 30th). Feel free to submit any requests for any of the Doctor Strange variants, Bucky, Loki, Steve, Sam, or Eddie/Venom. Or if you want to go a completely different direction, The West Wing or Veep.

[sinner-as-saint]

here forever

Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Run-through: Dating a superhero was no joke. And as noble as Bucky’s job was, it was just as dangerous and unpredictable. Which is why ever since you and Bucky started dating, he’d been training you in his free time. Teaching you how to defend yourself if ever he wasn’t around to protect you, or if ever his enemies came after you. Although you weren’t perfect at combat yet, you were almost certain you could get out of a tricky situation if you ever found yourself in one. But you were soon proven wrong. And your only option was to hope and pray that Bucky finds you in time. 

Themes: smut, fluff, mentions of kidnapping and death, boyfriend!bucky to the rescue, slight angst, hurt/comfort, mean!dom!bucky, aftercare, biker!bucky (except i made him wear a helmet because safety), mild daddy kink (nicknames only)

a/n: short, quick lil fic because I know we’re all hungry

It had been two hours since these strange men had so easily abducted you off the streets. 

It was a regular day, you were leaving yoga class and were on your way to pick up a smoothie. A treat you always got yourself after each workout class. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except Bucky’s incessant messages asking about your location. 

You knew you weren’t supposed to let your guard down, not even on busy streets – one of the first lessons Bucky taught you just weeks after your first date with him. But you couldn’t help looking down and frowning at your phone. Your bag, purse and phone in your hands. Always have your hands free when walking alone, even on busy streets – the second thing he taught you. 

Always be ready. Always be ready. Always be fucking ready. 

But you had messed up that morning. Bucky’s messages were starting to worry you. He had been away since last night, and as usual, never gave you too many details about his job. But all you knew was that before he left, he’d asked you to try and not go out if you could. Your apartment was safe. He had eyes all over that building. Cameras, security guards, it was the safest place you could be. 

‘Where are you? Why aren’t you home?’

Seconds later: 

‘I told you not to go out. It’s not safe right now. Call me.’ 

Then some missed calls which you couldn’t answer because you were in class at the time. Then messages one after the other: 

‘Go straight home.’ 

‘Is your class over?’ 

‘Go home and wait for me. Don’t open the door for anyone else.’ 

‘Baby I’m so serious right now, go home.’ 

And you were midway through typing an answer to reply to him. To tell him not to worry. To tell him that yes your class was over, and everything was okay and you would call him as soon as you got home. 

But you never got the chance to reply to his messages. 

It all happened too fast. One moment you were looking down, all your focus on your phone and boyfriend, and the next, you were being grabbed and shoved into a dark truck. You barely even got a scream out before the doors were shut and a tape sealed your mouth, ropes snaking around your wrists and ankles. 

And just like that, in less than a full minute, you were taken. 

And here you were now. 

In the back of that same truck which had been driving for about two hours, maybe more. Getting further and further away from the city you lived in, and into more and more unknown areas. 

Fuck! You had messed up. 

You should’ve checked your phone while you were still inside the building. You shouldn’t have been texting on the streets. You shouldn’t have let your guard down. Bucky had been saying for weeks that he suspected people had eyes on him, and consequently you because you two spent a lot of time together. 

He was right of course. He always was. You should’ve listened. You should’ve stayed at home, at least until he got back later today. 

A tear slid down your face, like it had been for the past hours. You silently cried, thinking about all the potential circumstances you could end up finding yourself in. You couldn’t even tell who were the men who kidnapped you because they all wore masks and hadn’t said a single word in the past hours. 

They were armed. And the truck seemed bulletproof. And they kept driving. Nothing said about wanting a ransom, nothing about why they had taken you, or whether they were using you as bait to get Bucky’s attention. Surely they were. 

And a few minutes later, when you heard the familiar roar of a familiar bike, you knew they had his full attention. 

Bucky was here. 

But they hadn’t noticed yet. And you didn’t want them to. So you tried to get all their attention on you by wiggling in the backseat, acting like you were trying to get more comfortable. The two armed men right in front of you just glanced at you and your tied limbs and let you be. 

You noticed the guy in the passenger seat didn’t even bother looking at you. The driver looked into the rearview mirror but quickly looked away and ahead. 

They still hadn’t heard the faint, steady roar of Bucky’s bike. 

Perfect. 

By the time Bucky would get close enough to attack, he would catch them by surprise. And it would be too late for them to react and defend themselves. 

So you kept moving, grunting in annoyance extra loudly just to mask the sound of Bucky’s bike as it got closer and closer– 

A loud gunshot exploded near you. For a moment nothing made sense. 

Then you realised the truck was no longer steady, it was tilted on one side. Bucky had shot one or more of the tires. You sighed in relief, while the men in the vehicle panicked. Muffled voices spoke all at once, one of them telling the driver to drive faster. 

Another, one of the men who was armed in front of you, lowered the window and popped his head and gun out, trying to find whoever was around but it was too late. 

You turned your head and managed to catch a glimpse of him through the rear windshield. Amongst the smoke and dirt flying, there he was. Mounted on his mean bike like a fierce general riding his beast into battle. Except this general wasn’t backed by soldiers. He was alone. 

But army or not, he was still Bucky Barnes. All black bike, black helmet, full biker gear, metal arm catching the sunlight. Guns strapped to his body. He looked like Death. 

A sob shook your body as you ducked and hid under the seats as much as you could as Bucky rain down bullets like hellfire upon the vehicle. He knew it was bulletproof, but you were certain he was doing it just to get the men to use their weapons and waste their bullets on him as fast as possible. 

The loud noises made it seem like your brain was vibrating, your heart was racing, and your ears were hurting with how loud the guns and shouts were. But Bucky was here, and all would be well now. 

A few seconds later, the truck began zig-zagging. You assumed it must be because the driver got shot. More shouts and bullets later, the truck came to a sudden stop. Like it collided with something that was strong enough to stop it even at that speed. 

But there was nothing on the empty streets you had been on. Nothing except… Bucky. 

An eerie silence followed. Then footsteps. The men in the truck had all been shot you realised upon smelling the scent of blood and gunpowder. 

You couldn’t get yourself up, not with your limbs still tied but you tried your best. And you were barely up when you heard the sound of metal literally tearing apart. You managed to peek from the back seat and Bucky had torn off one of the doors. The entire door off the side of the truck. 

You couldn’t call for him, but you kicked the back of one of the seats hard enough to get his attention. 

The moment his ocean blue eyes met your teary ones, you couldn’t help but start crying. Hot, burning tears streaming down your face as Bucky almost tore apart the entire truck to get to you. The moment he grabbed you and pulled you out into the open air, it was only his arm around you keeping you up. 

“I’ve got you,” He whispered over and over again, “You’re safe. I’ve got you, baby. It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here.” He repeated continuously as he carefully peeled the tape off your lips and cupped your face in his hands, looking at you intently to look for injuries while he wiped your tears away. “Are you hurt?” He asked, looking more panicked and worried than ever. “Baby, answer me. Did they hurt you? Inject you with anything? Touch you?” 

You shook your head, wanting nothing more than to just be able to take a deep breath, now safe in his arms. Only when you went to wrap your shaky arms around him, he stopped you. Keeping you at arms’ length and away from him. 

That worried, soft look in his eyes turned cold. Even under the afternoon sun, you shivered under his gaze. 

“What the fuck did I tell you before I left, huh?” He snarled. “I told you to stay inside, don’t leave the building. Didn’t I say that?” 

You sniffled, nodding. “I just went to my weekly class, and–,” 

He cut you off, hissing, “And look what happened!” He was almost screaming in your face, “You’re so lucky I got here in time. You’re so fucking lucky I have a tracker in that bag of yours. Otherwise it would’ve taken me days to get to you! Days!” 

You trembled, knowing he was right. Bucky dealt with dangerous people. He knew why he asked you to be cautious. 

Bucky leaned closer to you, looking down at you with no warmth. “These aren’t the villains you read about in your silly, little fucking books.” His voice sounded menacing, freezing. “These are actual, dangerous people. They wouldn’t have waited for you to charm your way out. They would’ve killed you!” He yelled. 

“I’m sorry,” You sobbed. “I was replying to your texts and–,” 

“We had a deal, didn’t we?” He grabbed you by the chin and forced you to look at him. “That when I tell you it’s not safe out there, you stay put. You stay inside and wait for me.” He growled. “You could’ve been killed today! And who would have had to live with that, huh? Who would’ve had to live with the disappointment that he couldn’t keep you safe? That he brought you into this shitty life and couldn’t even keep you alive?” He bellowed. “Who would’ve had to look your family in the eyes and tell them he lost you? Me! That’s who!” 

More tears, and a whimper escaped your lips. “I’m sorry.” You whispered. You had never seen this side of him. He let go of your face like it burned to touch you. 

He looked around, at the torn apart truck. At the bodies. The bullets on the ground. He grimaced but didn’t say anything. He reached into the truck and grabbed your things. Your bag and all that you had on you when you were taken. Your phone wasn’t here though, they must’ve thrown it out onto the streets while they took you. 

Bucky said, “We need to get out of here. Come.” 

He didn’t turn around to see if you were following, he knew you would. Once he got on his bike, he handed you his jacket and helmet. You put both on without questioning where you were going. 

Once sat behind him, your arms hesitantly around his torso, he turned to the side and said, “City’s not safe right now. We’ll spend the night at a motel nearby.” 

And that was all he said for the next few hours. 

– 

By the time you two made it to the motel – which was much, much more decent and clean than you had imagined – the sun was already setting. The place was quiet. A few voices conversing here and there, ACs humming as ACs do, cars coming in and out frequently given there was a gas station nearby, and a burger joint on the other side of the street. 

Bucky got you two a room for the night, and didn’t say a word to you as he grabbed your hand and led you to the room. 

It was a decent room. Bed, bedside tables, TV, sofas. The usual. 

You didn’t notice Bucky had packed a bag as well. You hadn’t been paying much attention anyway. He placed his much bigger bag on the bed and pulled out a few things. Some belonging to you, you noticed. Toothbrush, soaps, clean clothes. 

He handed a bunch of things to you and said, “Go shower.” He didn’t even look at you as he spoke. Guess he was still angry at you. 

You didn’t argue. You just took the things and rushed to the bathroom, locking yourself in there for a good half an hour. 

When you stepped out of the shower, feeling clean finally, you noticed Bucky wasn’t in the room. And the weather outside had changed. You could hear the faint thunder approaching. Surely by tonight there would be a storm. 

But where had Bucky gone? 

You put your clothes away in your bag, and with no phone you had no choice but to turn the TV on. You got in bed, a few minutes into watching some random documentary when Bucky walked in with food. 

You gave him a look, wondering if he would talk to you now. But all he said as he placed the bags filled with food on the bed was, “It’s none of your fancy green smoothies and healthy wraps, but it’ll have to do for now. I’m going to shower.” 

Then he disappeared. 

You were still upset, but then hunger took over and you pawed at the bags like a raccoon. You found milkshakes, fries, and burgers. And you ate while you wondered how long Bucky would keep being angry at you. 

You were halfway through your second burger when Bucky walked out of the shower. With nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. His wet, dark hair pushed back, droplets of water still dripping down his chest and abs. 

You swallowed your food before you choked, then looked away, acting as if the documentary on the TV was much more interesting to look at compared to your half naked boyfriend. 

“Are you hurt anywhere?” He asked, and you noticed he was carrying a first-aid kit in his hands. 

You shook your head. 

“Nothing? No scratches, nothing?” He asked again. 

You shrugged, “Just a small cut. It’ll heal. Nothing serious.” 

He walked over to your side of the bed, and said, “Show me.” 

You didn’t want to argue so you placed your food aside, lifted your shirt and showed him the minuscule cut on your ribs. “It’s not–,” 

But he cut you off by placing the kit down and looking for some cotton and disinfectant. 

It burned as he cleaned in and put a little bandaid over it. It hurt even more when he didn’t kiss it after like he usually does whenever he tends to your cuts and wounds. 

You didn’t say a word though. And soon, you both finished your food in silence with only the TV and the approaching storm as noise in the background. 

The thunder got louder and louder as you both got into bed. That weird silent treatment continued, and by now you were annoyed as well. You’d admit, it was your fault for being so careless when he’d told you to be cautious. But didn’t he see that you needed him now? 

Couldn’t he see you wanted to be held? And kissed? And comforted? 

You frowned in the dark. The lights from outside came through the blinds and lit the room up a little bit. As did the lightning. You were the only one tossing and turning you noticed, Bucky was asleep it seemed. 

But the thunder, the new bed, the fear and stress from earlier, it was all keeping you from falling asleep. Plus, it was a little embarrassing to admit, but you liked being held while you fell asleep. But Bucky wasn’t even talking to you, and wrapping your own arms around yourself wasn’t working. 

Another hour went by. Now the heavy rain finally came, along with a proper thunder storm. And you couldn’t take it anymore. 

You turned to face Bucky and he had his eyes shut, facing you. Not a single item of clothing on his body, except for a thin sheet covering him from the waist down. You sighed, frowning a little in annoyance still but you couldn’t help but scoot closer to him, seeking his warmth and embrace. 

First you pressed into him, to see if he would stir or wake up. He didn’t. So you got bolder and took his metal arm and placed it around you, waiting again. He didn’t move. So you went to wrap your arms around him, and once you did, you heard his sleepy voice saying, “Oh, what’s this? Now you need me?” 

You froze, trying to see if you could pretend you were asleep already. He didn’t buy it. 

“I know you’re awake.” 

You sighed. “It’s the thunder.” You said, nuzzling his warm neck. 

“And you need daddy to protect you now, little bunny?” He mocked. “But when I try to tell you what to do to keep you safe you never listen.” 

You noticed he kept his arm around you, pulling you more into him even as he chided you. “I’m so sorry, Buck. It won’t happen again.” 

He hummed. “It better not.” 

You were quiet for a second or two, then said, “You were so mean to me earlier.” 

“I have to be.” He said sternly. “You never listen. You don’t take your training seriously, you think you’re ready to fight your way out, baby, but you’re not. All I asked you to do was not to leave that apartment until I got there. But you couldn’t help but be a brat, could you?” 

You squirmed in shame. “I don’t want you to be angry with me.” 

“Well,” He said, sounding sassy as he pulled you closer, “I am pissed. Deal with it.” 

You had had enough. You slipped out of his arms, “Stay here and brood then,” You tried to get out of bed, “I’ll sleep on one of the sofas–” 

Bucky didn’t let you. A loud thunder boomed right above as he pulled you back into bed and climbed on top of you. “Stop being fucking difficult.” He hissed. 

Before you could answer, his mouth was on yours. Beard scratching your face, his long hair tickling the sides of your face. 

His kiss was rough and it hurt in the best way. Bucky pulled away for a brief moment, squeezed your cheeks so you couldn’t close your mouth. “Brat.” Glaring down at you, he spat in your mouth before kissing you again. 

Your brain felt like it was floating. His kiss was hot. And messy. 

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, “Needy little brat. Can’t ever do as you’re told, can you? You almost got fucking killed today, but you don’t care about that. Do you? Huh?” 

You were quiet. Your brain was too foggy with lust to function. 

“Why are you quiet? No bratty words for daddy?” He asked, sliding his rough hands up and down your parted thighs. You spread them even more the moment he touched you and he smirked when he noticed it. “Go on, tell me to stop. Tell me to let you go.” He taunted, knowing full well you would never do that. 

All you did was whimper as he touched you mindlessly, sliding his fingers up and down your slit, spreading your wetness around. 

“You’re gonna listen from now on.” He stated. “I don’t care what it takes. I’ll lock you in that apartment if I have to. But from now on, if I tell you it’s not safe out there, you do not leave that house. You hear me, princess?” 

Silence. Which earned you a slap on the thigh. You yelped in pain before glaring at him. “Fine,” You said, “Yes, I hear you. I’ll be good.” You whined. 

“Of course you will,” He said, his metal hand pinned you down on the bed by wrapping around your neck to keep you in place, while his other hand wrapped around his cock. Pumping it once, twice while holding your stare. “‘Cause I’ll have you over my knee and spank that little butt raw if you don’t.” 

You whimpered and squirmed because of how badly you needed him inside you. “I will. I’ll be so good,” You begged, “Buck, please.” 

Bucky wasted no time sliding inside of you. Giving you no time to even think, he moved in and out of you in a way that had you moaning out loud, not caring that the walls might be thin. 

The storm got louder somehow, thunder rumbling and lightning lighting up the room every now and then. The rain got heavier, silencing the rest of the world as Bucky fucked you. His body weight pressing down onto you in a way that made you never want to be anywhere else. 

It didn’t matter that you were in a small motel room, so far away from home. It didn’t matter that danger could still be lurking around. Nothing mattered, not when he held your stare as he fucked you hard and fast, barely giving you time to breathe right. 

He leaned in again, whispering against the corner of your open mouth, “Look how you behave the moment you have some cock in you. Is that all my baby wanted? Daddy’s cock? Hmm? Is this why you’ve been pouting for the past few hours?” He chuckled, spreading your thighs even more, “I’ve been mean to you, haven’t I?” He cooed, fucking into you deeper somehow. “I’ve been so mean by telling you just where you messed up and how bad things could’ve gotten if I didn’t reach you in time. I’m so mean to you, aren’t I?” He mocked you, scoffing, “Is that why your pussy is strangling my cock, baby? Because daddy’s so mean to you, is he?”

You could feel your face getting hotter as your walls clenched around him over and over again, as he sped up and pounded into you. You felt all of him stretching you out, filling you up, moving rapidly in and out of you until he was all you could focus on. 

“Is this what you wanted, little bunny?” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly as he bent down to bite your lower lip and tug on it. “Is this enough to make you behave from now on, baby?” 

You moaned at how perfect his warm body felt on top of yours, his weight pressing down on you. His stubble tickled your skin as he kissed your face and bit on your lip. Your legs trembled as his thrusts, relentless and unbearably good. The pressure around your lower body grew, familiar, tight and hot.

The storm, the streetlights, and every little bit of light allowed you to see how Bucky looked down at you as you tightened around his cock. He smirked, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust in. “I killed for you today.” He whispered, “I saved you, and this is what I get? Attitude? A bratty girl? Not even a thank you,” He scoffed, “Not even a ‘thank you for saving me daddy’, nothing.” The cold cruelty in his voice only made you clench around him harder. 

His hand squeezed your throat again, making you moan even louder. “Dirty little slut. Look at you, all cock drunk.” He scoffed, giving you yet another messy kiss. “Are you gonna be good from now on?” 

“Yes,” You whined, not recognising your voice because of how desperate you sounded. Then again, only he could make you sound this way. You whimpered, unable to say anything else because of how good he felt sliding in and out of you. 

Fuck, you needed this. So much. You whined again when his hand let go of your throat, fingers trailing down your squirming body until his metal fingers found your clit, toying with it while he pounded into you mercilessly. 

“Yeah?” He stared deep into your eyes as he spoke. “You’re gonna be my good girl and listen to me?” 

You nodded, tears streaming down your face again. The exhaustion from earlier, the day you had survived. It was all too much. “Please…” You whimpered, squirming and unable to hold back anymore. You needed to come so bad. Your thoughts were a mess. 

“Good girl.” 

And you couldn’t hold back anymore. You came undone all around him. Moaning, your back arching off the bed as you came hard around his cock, tightening around him even harder than earlier. 

Bucky kept pounding into you as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him violently. Your body trembling under him. “That’s it, babygirl. Come for daddy.” 

You could hear the untamed hunger in his deep, growly voice. He groaned until he came undone as well. You whined and whimpered as you felt him filling you up, his thrusts slowing down, his cum dripping down your inner thighs. 

—

You vaguely remember his cleaning the two of you. He let you rest for a minute, but then it seemed like he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. So he flipped you around, straddled you and began massaging your worn out body. 

He rubbed his rough hands all over your back, down your hips, and thighs. It was quiet for a while. Just the rain, the thunder, and the sound of Bucky breathing. 

Then you heard his gentle voice. “I can’t lose you. Not you.” He whispered, like he was saying it to himself, “Not you, baby.” 

Your heart throbbed and pinched.  

He leaned down and kissed the back of your neck, your shoulders, down your spine, all while massaging your body. “I don’t like being mean to you.” He kissed his way up again, nuzzling your ear and whispering, “Earlier today,” He spoke softly, “When I watched the tracker show me how fast you were getting further and further away, thinking about how they must’ve grabbed you. How easily, how quickly they took you, I–,” His voice cracked. 

You couldn’t help the tears anymore, “I’m sorry.” You tried to turn over and face him but he gently pushed you back down on the bed. 

“Shh,” He shut you up. “Just let me take care of you.” His hands touched you everywhere. Soft touches soothing the spots he’d grabbed harshly earlier. “You scared me, baby.” He kissed around the cut on your side. “For a moment I thought I’d never see you again.” 

“I’ll be good, I promise.” You sniffled, trying to look at him over your shoulder. “I’ll train harder, I’ll be better. I won’t let my guard down, ever.” 

He leaned in and kissed your lips gently. “You’re perfect.” He stated. “We’ll work on training you better. We’ll be okay. Don’t worry baby, I’ve got you. Always.” 

You gave him a teary smile and sheepishly said, “Thank you for saving me.” 

Bucky laughed softly, nuzzling your neck again, kissing your skin like he couldn’t get enough. “I would burn this entire world down if anyone tries to take you from me again.” 

You laid your head back down on the pillow, laughing softly. Thinking he was joking. 

He wasn’t.

[strangelockd]

I updated the look of my masterlist ✌🏻

SPOTIFY PLAYLIST

JOIN MY TAGLIST

PICK YOUR PROMPT IDEAS HERE

(If you don’t specify which character you want I will go to a character of MY choice)

Big Bad Wolf

I'll Give You The Moon And Stars

Never Doubt My Love For You

A Nurses Touch

You Put Flowers In My Hair

Under The Sheets

Fit To Be Tied

Its Always Been You(Overview)

Chapter 1

Like What You See Doctor

Caught In The Web

Fair Play

Your Jealousy Is Showing

Today Is The Day

You Can Tell Me Anything

Sufferable Intoxication

Vices & Virtues

Right Hand Red

Shut Up And Kiss Me

Just An Experiment

I Love You

A Queen For A Mindpalace

Darling You Taste Divine

Baking cookies with the Strange variants

Baking with Sherlock Holmes

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

Master List - Part 3

Started: 8 September 2024

Last Updated: 8 September 2024

Total works: 20

I don’t own nor do I claim to own any of the characters or fandoms below. The only things I own are my stories and some more of my work can be found here on AO3.

Crossovers

Captain Marvel/Secret Invasion

Multichapter Fics

Talos

General of the stars, family man on Earth: 1 2 3 4

Law and Order: SVU

Multichapter fics

Rafael Barba

The Sounds of Justice

The Taste of Revenge

Twilight x Percy Jackson Crossover

Marcus Volturi

Midnight Roses

Harry Potter x Percy Jackson Crossover

Sirius Black

Pirate AU

Harry Potter x Greek Mythology Crossover

Remus Lupin

Remus Lupin Drabble

Werewolves, Beetles, Kneazles, Demigods, and Gods, oh my!

Harry Potter x Wonder Woman Crossover

Ares/Sir Patrick Morgan

Enchanted Hearts: 1

SVU x Trouble in the Heights

Nevada Ramirez

1, 2, 3

SVU x NCIS x Leverage

Jim Sterling

The Taste of Revenge - What if

Percy Jackson x The Good Fight

Bryan Kneef

The Temptation of the Immortals

Harry Potter x Lord of The Rings

Elrond Peredhel

Innocence Unveiled: 1

Taken x SVU

Bryan Mills

I don't play fair darling: 1

The Lodger x after.life

Chandler Manning x Reader x Eliot Deacon

Slow Horses x Harry Potter x Marvel

Jackson Lamb x Reader x Sir Patrick: 1

Marvel x SVU

Defender Strange

When Universes Collide: 1

[merlinmylove]

A fic of every person Merlin has ever sent to his mother:

Chapter one: Lancelot arrives in Ealdor, saying he’s looking for a woman named Hunith. “I’m a friend of Merlin’s, he said you might let me stay a while — I will help and provide anything you might need Madam. If only for a few days, so I may rest” Lancelot is kind and happy to help. He chops down trees for firewood to last her the whole winter, and even fixes the leak in the roof. He speaks fondly of his adventures with Merlin and what Camelot is like. Hunith notices he blushes at the name of a young maiden he befriended, he reenacts his knighting trial, and laughs at Merlin who dared forge a Noble house seal so that he may have a chance at becoming a knight. Hunith is sad to see him leave, but she knows he will be alright.

Chapter two: Gwaine arrives on horseback late one night. He’s flirtatious and easy going, happy to have found a new friend. “I see where Merlin gets his looks from, and dare I say my lady, you’re even more gorgeous” Hunith hasn’t laughed so much in a long time. She sees much of Balinor in Gwaines character; his disdain for nobles, his flirtatious nature and brash personality. The man is popular with the children in the village. He makes wooden swords and shields for them, teaching them the basics of how to defend themselves “against dragons and such”. Gwaine is unlike any other man she’s ever met, but she can tell he cares deeply for her son and is happy to call him her friend.

Chapter Three: When Gwen arrives with a cart Hunith frowns. She remembers the young girl who had arrived in her village years prior. All smiles and kindness. The young woman standing before her is quiet, withdrawn and ashamed. They don’t speak — Hunith takes her inside and readies the bed for her. Gwen stays with her for many months, and together they cry, grieve, and laugh. “Oh my dear girl” Some days Gwen is silent and crying, other times she seems to have found herself again. She works with the Smith family and shows them how a royal blacksmith works, fashioning jewellery for Hunith and the other ladies in the village. The day she leaves Hunith cries.

Chapter four: A young sorcerer arrives saying his name is Gilli. A friend of Merlin, and he is in need of a place to stay for the night. He’s been badly hurt in a fight with bandits — Hunith tends to his wounded arm as he tells her about his life. His father who died a good man, a sorcerer who never used magic for evil, and how Merlin is the reason Gilli changed course and is now learning to use magic for good and not for vanity. He is friendly, if a little shy, but she can see a similarity to Merlin in him. He only stays the one night, but she makes sure to pack his bag with some extra breadrolls and apples for his travels. Gilli thanks her as he leaves for another adventure.

Chapter five: Sirs Leon and Percival arrive on a warm day in the summer. They’re passing by on business with another noble house in Escetir, hoping to garner the Nobleman’s fealty to Camelot. They need a place to rest before they travel again tomorrow. “Gwaine and Lancelot speaks very highly of you, ma’am. And Merlin said you might be so good as to let us rest here for the night” Hunith gladly lets them inside. They’ve brought with them plenty of food and goods from Camelot, and have even hunted a deer which Hunith can share with her neighbours. The men are polite and friendly. Sir Leon helps her peel potatoes for dinner, and Sir Percival uses his strength to rearrange the heavier furniture for her. They talk amicably all evening, drinking the wine the King had gifted her. Hunith felt a surge of happiness knowing her son was in their company.

Chapter six: He says his name is George. He is King Arthur’s assistant manservant and he is travelling during his time away. His family lives in the village two days away. “Merlin said I might stay here for the night. If you permit it madam”. Hunith is not sure what to make of this strange fellow; his jokes are lame, his manners hard to describe, but she naturally allows him to stay the night. When she wakes in the morning, her whole house has been cleaned. The curtains dusted and pressed, the flowers watered, the kitchen stove cleared for smoke, and her dresses are hung in a colour coordinated order. She waves goodbye and hopes he might come by again….Perhaps in time for spring cleaning.

Chapter seven: The villagers of Ealdor have become accustomed to their local healer and midwife having strange visitors. They’ve seen knights, sorcerers, druids, and even some nobles stop by her house for a day or two. They think they’ve seen it all, until one day King Arthur of Camelot is knocking on her door. “Arthur! Hello dearest” She says as he sweeps her into a hug, kissing his face. “It’s good to see you again, Hunith. I don’t want to be a bother, but my horse threw a shoe as we were out hunting. Do you mind if we stay here tonight?” He resembles a young boy when talking to her, more so than the King he is. Of course she says, you’re always welcome here, dear. Merlin is soon seen walking towards his mother’s house, holding the reins of two horses, and a big smile “Mum!”