#this is magic‚ you and me. / v. sorcerer. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alexendria-rose · 6 months ago

Note

I have a request

Can we see a submissive Stephen Strange story?

Like what you see?~

Stephen Strange X Reader

Warnings: PURE SMUT!! UNHOLY anyways; p in v, choking, sub Stephen with a hint of dom him, cock sucking, cussing.

Summary: Stephen comes back whining about work, and Y/n has the perfect idea to forget why he was whining in the first place-well whining about that certain situation...

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“Did I ever mention how much I loath Thanos?” Stephen huffs walking into their shared room at the Sanctum. Y/n looks up from her book to look at Stephen eyebrows knit together.

“My love, I think everyone hates him.” She laughs softly placing the book down on the side table before criss crossing her legs on the bed.

“Yeah but I really hate him, wong as sorcerer supreme! That was my spot.” He says plopping himself on his lovely girlfriend’s lap. Y/n rolls her eyes playing with his hair making sure not to mess it up so much.

“So you’re mad at Thanos because of that?” She just giggled leaning back against the bed. He looks up at her with puppy dog eyes.

“Yes.” He states his eyes fluttering close as she massages his head. Y/n laughed softly.

“Oh poor baby, I’m so sorry the blip affected you getting sorcerer supreme.” She fake pouted, Stephen sees right through that groaning and rolling his eyes.

“I don’t feel comforted.” He mumbles moving his eyes away from her as he pouts. Oh people would absolutely died laughing if they found out how soft Stephen was in front of her.

"Oh do you want to feel comforted? I have a few ideas in mind." She says softly tracing his lips a small smirk planted on her face. Stephen grins moving his hand to trace her wrist.

"I do like the sound of that." He mumbles his eyes never leaving hers. She bites her lower lip leaning foreword before capturing his lips with hers in a heated passion. He groans from the taste of her lips a slight whimper escaping his mouth. Y/n just smirks against his lips moving her hands to cup his cheeks, moving her body to straddle him instead- his back against the bed. He goes to grip her hips, she pulls back from the kiss grabbing his wrist.

"Nope, I didn't say you can touch me sweetheart." She smirks, his eyes widen at her comment, feeling himself get a hard at her words. She quirks an eyebrow at him, the smirk never leaving her face. "Oh are you excited for me Mr. Strange?" He takes a shattered breath nodding his head slowly.

"I need you, really badly." He was able to choke out. Her hands making its way down to his shirt(luckily he wasn't wearing his normal outfit) she brushes her fingers teasingly against his skin noticing his breath hitching at the contact. She pulls his shirt off, watching his chest rise and fall. She connects her lips on his chest his breath wavering slightly as she moves her lips down near his lower stomach just above his pants. "F-Fuck." He gasped out, she knew he was sensitive right here so she drew it out more by creating love bites on his lower stomach. He wanted to grip her hair so bad, but also wanted to obey her by not touching her, letting her work her magic on him. She slowly unbuttons his jeans before sliding them down his legs. She looked down at the bulge begging to come out of his boxers.

"Awh look at you, its basically begging me." She taunts flicking her tongue. He swallows hard his Adams apple bobbing.

"Please, I need you." He begs his eyes begging and full of want. She moves her hands to his underwear band before pulling them off, his cock flinging out as soon as she does. She could basically already see the pre-cum leaking out. She just smiled moving her head down, her eyes never leaving his.

"I give you permission to touch my head but that's it." She murmurs before using her mouth to take him whole. He brings his hands to her hair gripping on it softly but his body shuddered under her; his hips slightly bucking at the wetness of her mouth.

"F-Fuck." He sputters his mouth going dry from the way he kept his mouth opened. He whimpered lightly at the way she swirled her tongue around his length and the way she hollowed her cheeks in. She began to move her head up and down his length to create more friction. He groaned and moaned loudly at the way she took him with such ease and grace. He felt himself so close to the edge his grip on her hair tugging on it harder, instead she pulls her head back wiping her mouth, he whined at the lost of contact. She just chuckles.

"Mr. Strange be patient. Don't you want to cum in me?" She smirked standing up from the bed removing her shirt and pants revealing her lace bra and underwear knowing this was most likely going to happen. His eyes move up and down her body, his eyes never leaving out a inch of it. "You like what you see?" She taunts crawling on top of him. He just nods watching the way she crawled back on top of him. "Well since you like it so much-" She moves her panties off to the side before sliding herself down onto his cock. He groaned his head rolling back as his hips bucked up which let out a moan out of her lips.

"F-Fuck so perfect." He choked out, his eyes traveling back to her chest, the push up in the bra making her breast look fantastic to view. God lace looked so good on her- he thought. She just grinned adjusting to his length before moving her hips and down. His moans and whimpers becoming louder. "G-God oh my fuck." He grunts out his eyes rolling back at the way she felt so good to him, wet and tight just for him.

"See? Who would want to cum in a mouth, when you've got this tight pussy just for you." She says dissolving herself in the pleasure fluttering her eyes close as soft moans escape her lips.

"S-Shit Y/n." He moves his hands to her hips gripping on them so tightly his hands turn white from the grip. She chuckles not moving his hands knowing herself she enjoyed the touch. She moves her hands down to his throat her hands wrapping around it softly, as she started moving her hips faster.

"Fuck me like I'm the only pussy you want." She moans out as soon as those words left her mouth, his grip on her hips tightens before thrusting himself up in her deeper groaning every time he hit her G-spot. She gasped out at him hitting just the right spot, the sound of slapping skin bouncing off the walls. She feels herself tighten around him-very close to her edge.

"C-Can I cum, please?" He begs his eyes gazing at hers, she bites her lip to stop the whimpers coming out seeing Stephen this sub and soft in front of her made her so weak and her pussy tighten as she thought about it.

"F-Fuck." She whimpers out nodding out a quick yes. He moves his hips faster until he reaches his climax, her following swiftly feeling his warm seed enter her, his body shaking and shuddering underneath her. She rides out his orgasm before removing herself off of him flopping herself next to him, feeling her legs just shake slightly. She hears him chuckle deeply.

"Wow." He murmurs out turning his body to face her propping his elbow up before resting his hand on his palm, his eyes traveling up and down her body. She just smiles brightly.

"Your such a good boy." She smirks winking at him. He growls lowly.

"Keep it up baby girl, and I'll show you who can also be such a little sub." He smirk moving his hand to smack her ass. She gasped at the contact whining softly. "Exactly my point." He lifts her chin with his index finger. "Now I won't say I didn't enjoy that, but you are the only living soul that can know that." She gulps lightly nodding, the dominance slowly fading away. He smirks' lightly.

"Good girl."

#x reader #fanfiction #oneshot #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange #doctor stephen strange #marvel #benedict cumberbatch x reader #benedict cumberbatch #sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes.#smut

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secret-smut-sideblog · 6 months ago

Text

Possession

Gale x F! Sorcerer Tav

18+ enemies to lovers (sort of), antagonistic relationships, crossed signals, misunderstanding, physical roughness, rivalry/jealousy, mean domGale, rough sex, manhandling, semi-public sex, consensual voyeurism, light humiliation, masturbation (m!), fingering (f!), oral (f!), face sitting, p-in-v, pulling out

With natural challenge and charge between them and a misstep at connection, an unexpected competitor appears in camp. Things come to a burning head between sorcerer and wizard...

Masterlist

Magic ran through her body. It was deep inside her bones, a force she could not reason with even if she tried. As vital as breath.

So as Gale explained Weave to her, she rested her chin on a curled hand. Giving him a highly bemused smile that he was entirely unaware of.

"The simplicity that Magic of the Weave - An Introduction supplies is quite misleading. Though those unfamiliar must start somewhere, I suppose." He held the small tome up in demonstration, letting it fall flat in his palm to a page he had affixed a colored tab to.

"Like here!"

He began reading aloud a passage, Tav smiling wider at the unconscious raise of his pointed finger.

"While that is accurate," He snapped the book shut, turning to look at her. "To distill the Weave so crudely down to a new student is akin to stealing their capacity for wonder. So much of the power of the Weave is in its limitless beauty, to rend it so small is a disservice."

"Not all spellcasters experience magic in such a profound way as you do." She offered, that bite of jest falling back into her words.

"Ah, I've forgotten." He sighed, leveling her with a withering stare. "I'm speaking to a sorcerer."

She felt her smile widen even further.

"And I'm speaking to a wizard. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you kiss those books to sleep at night."

His ears filled with blush, pulling the tome off of his lap and setting it with an annoyed thump on an ever growing pile.

"As I've said, no sense of wonder." He sniped.

This was a dance they did. He would talk her through a concept she was already familiar with and, inevitably, get frustrated with her teasing. But he kept coming back, a new topic, a new book, to dissect to her. A dog with a bird in its teeth.

"I really do think it's sweet. Your love for your craft. Maybe you'll be a teacher one day, you clearly have a knack for it." She sighed out her last words in a mock weariness.

"Though I could argue I experience magic just as deeply as you do, wizard. Maybe I should be the one giving you lectures."

His eyes seemed to light at the thought, turning to her expectantly.

"No," she raised her hands. "I'm not going to be the one to break that hopeful glint in your eyes. My relationship with my magic is not nearly as fulfilling."

He stared at her, stubborn. Turning fully towards her, eyes held in unwavering interest.

"You're very irritating." She stated.

He scoffed.

"I'm well aware. But go on, enlighten me."

She gave an exaggerated eye roll, then fell quiet. Bowing her head in concentration, allowing the slow closing of her eyes.

The sound of rustling fabric next to her as he leaned forward.

As she focused in on her power, the sensation, the fluid of it, she felt it rise along her body. Lifting the ends of her hair, air crackling with chill. She leaned her head back, feeling the delicious cold move up her spine.

Speaking in a hushed, vulnerable voice.

"It's ice water in summer. It's the chill of early morning. It's the plunge of a hand into a cool river."

Her eyes slid open, her gaze falling back on her hands. Now alight with glacial magic.

"It's the hunger of winter. It's the icy maw that swallows the unprepared. It's the frigid grip on skin, stealing breath away. Lulling so sweetly into sleep, burning alive."

She stared at the curl of her palm, frost lines traveling in slow pulses down the valleys of her veins.

"What you call Weave I know as blood. Inescapable and as giving as a blizzard. It's not about learning, it's about controlling."

Her eyes finally rose to his and found him scribbling in the front leaf page of Magic of the Weave. Looking up at her expectantly, his hand pausing as she fell quiet.

"Are you... writing this down?" She stared at him in disbelief.

He looked down at his pen, then back up at her, innocent confusion tilting his head. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"By Drizz't's Blades, can you not be an academic for one second?" She huffed, rising to feet.

"Just like a wizard, you bear your wounds and their taking notes. Gods."

He looked at his work again, his own frustration creasing his brows. Opening his mouth to surely argue.

"Save it." She held her hand up flat. "You've got your research. Frigid drow is a compelling footnote in your paper. Goodnight, Gale."

Her feet took her away on frosted grass. Hands clenching at her sides, ice cresting over knuckles. Feeling his eyes following her back.

Turning the corner on the largest crimson tent.

"Karlach! I need thawing!"

"You know he didn't mean it like that."

Karlach's blistering hand rubbed in circles along the ice holding her bare back. Melting it down only to have new sheets bloom behind her hand.

"I dont know that." Tav hissed, the tight hurt in her chest speaking.

"Oh, come on. He's far too sweet on you to be studying you like an experiment."

"He's not."

"He is. Hells, Tav, it's obvious."

Tav rose her legs to her chest, leaning on her knees. Pushing her chin into the curve of her folded forearms. Angry tears spiking her eyes, quickly turning to frozen rain pooling.

"That's just how wizards are, mate. They digest the world through books. If anything, it was a massive compliment that he was taking notes."

She picked at the seam along her knee. Turning her head into the fold of her arms with a shaky sigh. Focusing on Karlach's heat to bring her body back down from the threatening squall.

"I just want to be..."

She tried to gather her words, but an angry lump sat frozen in her throat.

"I know, baby. You want to be understood. But that shit hurts."

Tav nodded, reaching back to squeeze Karlach's knee.

"Thank you." She sighed, ice water slipping down her temple and the curve of her nose.

"Of course, Frost. Elemental bitches gotta stick together."

Tav let out a wet laugh, chill air leaving her in a burst.

Leaving her tent, she gave Karlach's shoulder one more grateful squeeze. Misty eyed again, seeing how happily she pulled a frozen Clive to her chest. Her spell set to last through the night.

Though her ice was often a burden, it was setting up to be a sweltering night. Passing by each tent, she tapped on canvas. Setting the temperature down with an incantation, hearing grateful sighs and soft thank you's from within as she made a loop. Slipping a bottle of cooled blood into crimson canvas, chilled fingers taking it eagerly.

She eyed the deep turquoise tent, soft light still dancing inside. Sighing, she stepped forward on quiet feet. Stopping to kneel down and straighten the piles of books that he had haphazardly left.

Crouched on haunches, she rose her hand. Pressing a cold palm into canvas. Giving him a little extra in silent apology.

Hearing no acknowledgment outside of a pausing of movement, she rose back on feet.

"Goodnight, Gale." She hushed.

Turning back to the lone point of her black tent, at the lowest slope of their small world. Faded with scrubbed away symbols of Lolth. Smiling at Minthara's tent opposite hers.

Her fellow drow laid inside, leaned back on her hammock. Sharpening a dagger with the precision of a practiced war matron.

Giving her an affirming nod as she cooled her tent.

"I'm retiring for the night." Tav spoke in Undercommon, the words sliding out so much more natural. Minthara respoding in kind.

"I'll take watch." Rising from her lounge, she sat her dagger back with a snap. Heading up the slope.

"Rest well, sister."

Finally alone, she entered her tent. Content to wallow in her sharp hurt.

As she settled, lighting a candle, pulling a spidersilk robe around her waist, a new shape revealed beneath her pillow.

She cut her eyes, picking up a tome.

Impractical Magic, Volume 1.

Another sat beneath it.

Book of Poetry.

She flipped through them. A beginner's book, written by a wizard, about the nature of elemental sorcery and a small book of poems. Recognizing her own speech patterns from her attempt at explanation earlier in the prose.

She shot to feet, angry chill rising through her neck. The books gripped in her fist.

Ripping aside turquoise canvas. Casting Private Sanctum on his tent as she stormed inside. Tossing the books at his feet.

"Are you mocking me?"

He glanced at the books, eyes rising to hers. Turning his head in that maddening tilt.

"You have wildly misunderstood my intentions."

Her hands twitched into fists again, breathing hard through the frost.

"Okay, then dumb it down for me since you're so superior. My meager education couldn't possibly rise to the occasion."

He rose to feet, his breathing picking up with hers.

"Why do you keep inferring that I find you lacking? How have I made that impression?"

She nearly screamed, biting her icy tongue. Turning from him to face the tent wall as furious tears rose again.

"Hey, don't turn away. I'm trying to understand!"

His hand pulled on her bicep, and it snapped a fracture in her frozen lake.

Wrenching his wrist, she forced his arm behind his back. Flipping him to the ground, knee pressed into his spine. Taking his hair in a tight bunch, forcing his head into a turn on his pillow.

He gasped, his back arching into her hold. Body so unbearably warm beneath hers.

"Don't touch me." She commanded. Pressing her knee harder.

He tried to nod, but her fist held harder into his hair. A soft moan left him, hips rising into a curl.

"Don't go into my tent again. Or I will do far worse than this."

"Is that a promise?" He gasped.

She raised her lip in a snarl. Lowering her head down to his ear, hissing into the well.

"You're too soft and warm to talk back, wael faern. Or do I need to show you that?"

"I'd love a demonstration, if you don't mind."

She smiled dangerously, pinning his arm under her knee. Hand snapping down on the side of his throat.

He breathed hard under her constricting fingers, eyes fluttering up into lids as her cold tongue drug up the curve of his ear.

She pressed the full freeze of her body into his back, chuckling darkly as he shivered.

"Too cold? I thought so."

Rising off of him with a shove, she twisted her fingers into her magic. Glaring down as he turned to stare flushed at her.

"Enjoy the heat."

With a pull, she removed her chill on the tent. The air filling sweltering again as she ducked out into the night.

"No Gale today?" Astarion clicked his tongue in mock disappointment. Shouldering his pack to accompany her.

"No. I'd rather not see him." She responded in a clipped voice.

"Cold." He lilted. "But I do so enjoy that about you."

Karlach and Minthara met them at the crest of the trail. Blue light still bathing the sleeping world.

"Any reason we're heading out so early, soldier?"

"She's avoiding her kicked puppy."

"Do you want to stay back, Astarion? I'm sure you could use the beauty rest."

"Would you like me to educate the spawn on manners, sister?"

"Gods, I'm going to hate you two together."

Her eyes darted back to the distant point of camp. Seeing a soft light ignite inside his tent.

"Enough talk. Head out."

"Shadowheart! To me!" Tav called.

Rolan moaned out what sounded like 'Where are we?' His eyes rolling loose in sockets as he coughed.

"My camp, we're not close enough to Last Light. Now focus on breathing." She hitched his arm higher over her shoulder.

Minthara took up his other side, face stoic.

"Shadowheart! We have wounded!" Tav called again, eyes tracking around the camp.

She rushed down the hill, hands lit in magic. Potions gathered under her arm.

"Injuries?" She urged, Tav and Minthara laying him on a soft patch of grass. Halsin came up behind Tav, his hand coming to Rolan's forehead. The other braced on her back as he kneeled down.

"Shadow wraiths. The curse almost got him." Karlach gasped, running up to the gathered help.

"He's very near death." Halsin urged, hand lighting along his forehead. "Something's wrong, he's burning up."

Tav leaned back and whipped off her robe, kneeled in her underclothes.

"Lift him." She instructed. Halsin appraising her with an impressed glint.

The druid lifted him easily into a slump.

"What's going on?" Gale's voice rose over their heads.

Tav arched her thigh around Rolan's lap, taking up his weight into her shoulder. Her chest pressed to his, she snaked her hand inside of his robe and untied it at the waist. Letting it fall back as she spread her hands on his bowed back and pressed into him.

Halsin and Shadowheart took up at his sides in front of her. Speaking healing magic into his body.

"Breath, faern." She hushed, pulling him to her.

Rolan's breath filled and emptied shallowly against her neck. Burning into her skin.

"I'm going to get colder now, take a deep breath." She warned in a soft voice.

She focused her temperature down, feeling him try to pull away weakly.

"Good, that's good." Halsin encouraged, spreading a hand between hers. "He's stabilizing."

Rolan whimpered into her shoulder, arms coming up to grip into her back. Body shaking with cold and frustration. Tears hidden in the fall of her hair.

"I know, I know." She hummed, hands running through his long hair. "You're alive. Feel your anger."

Rolan wouldn't leave her side, even after his body had cooled. Leaning his head in exhausted shame.

"We'll head out for Last Light, first thing in the morning." Tav instructed, her gathered companions nodding. The fire burning low between them.

"Return Rolan to his family and secure the whereabouts of Oliver. We should search where we last saw him."

Rolan's head rose, staring down at her.

"Family?"

"Yes, we found your siblings in the prison at Moonrise. They were on their way back to you when we found you."

His eyes filled with tears again.

"You saved them?"

She nodded, then was taken into him.

He pressed a kiss into her lips, hands cupping her face in desperate joy. Pulling away with spilling tears.

"Thank you." He breathed.

She smiled up at him.

"No trouble."

Rolan smiled back, then turned his head. His eyes widened in confusion, then settled into a cold stare.

Tav followed his gaze.

Gale sat across from Rolan, glaring dark under his brow at him. Fingers digging on his thighs.

"Something you'd like to share?" Rolan chided, tilting his head in a slow challenge.

"Oh, not presently. After all, your health is far too important." Gale's voice came out in a low warning.

The air crackled with malice. A silent combat taking place between eyes.

"Gods, you wizards are like fish too close in a pond. Get over yourselves." Shadowheart scoffed, rising to feet.

"I'll set you up in my tent tonight." Tav turned to back to Rolan. "I'll occupy myself elsewhere."

"I'm sure there's enough room for the two of us." Rolan purred, eyes lighting in petty accomplishment as the shadow darkened next to them.

"And I'm sure you'll freeze to death."

"Mmm, I'm still a mite warm, actually."

Gale rose to feet, shoulders hard with effort.

"Tav, a word?"

"My tent is there." She pointed down the slope, rising to feet. "Get some rest. We have a long walk come morning."

Gale came to her side, rushing forward. Caging her body forward with his own. Fast steps forcing her body to a brisk walk.

His hand came up to pull on her wrist, finding her pace not removing them quickly enough.

"I will end you." She promised, his hand falling away with a huff.

"Okay, we're beyond the treeline. I think we're far enough from the wizard I just helped."

She crossed her arms, leveling an unamused stare at him.

"What do you want to say?"

"Why did he just kiss you?" Gale hissed. Ducking his head down low to her.

"Ask him. I haven't detected his thoughts."

"That's not funny."

"It wasn't a joke."

He huffed breath hard, chest heaving. Eyes burning.

"You're impossible." He growled.

"I'm a drow. Bitch comes free." She tilted her head up at him. A mean glint in her eyes.

"Why? Are you jealous, wizard?"

His back bristled, eyes widening in contained rage.

"Do you need healing, too? Do you have wounds for me?" She stepped forward in a challenge. "Show me where it hurts, and I'll lick it better."

He held his ground, and she stepped forward again. Egging him on.

"Come on. You're clearly angry with me." She smiled. "Spit your venom."

"I'm not angry with you."

"No?" She stepped into him.

"Then why are you so warm?"

His eyelids lowered into a grimace, panting as she pressed into him.

They breathed into each other's space, his hands arching in hard clenches at his sides.

"Then what are you feeling towards me, Gale?" She hissed, staring into his dark eyes.

He finally snapped, crashing his mouth into hers.

His mouth pushed, desperate and mean. Wide hand gripping into the back of her hair. Breathing hard through nose. Tangling into her in angry pulls. Demanding fingers pulling at her clothes.

She pulled out of her robe, ripping into his ties. Disrobing him with the same aggression. Pressing her body hard into his in rolling waves. His heat battling her rising cold.

"Down." He growled into her swollen lips. Pulling her by the hips roughly to the forest floor.

"I don't take orders from you." She breathed, falling under his body.

"Shut up." He hissed, pulling her bralette down to her ribs in a hard yank.

Mouth diving on a hard peak.

Her back curled up in pleasure, gripping into his hair.

He lapped at the buds, playing mean fast strokes that he pulled up into his lips. Sucking in hard popping pulses.

Her head arched back, panting into the grass. Cunt flooding with slick, hips arching up into the tone of his belly.

He forced his hand between them, cupping her cunt and pushing her hips hard into the earth.

"I'm going to make you regret kissing him." He promised in a dangerous rumble. Eyes glaring up at her in dark slits.

"Do it, then." She breathed, her eyes burning ice.

"I dare you."

He ripped her panties off, eyes smoldering anger. Wrenching under her thighs and lifting her hips high into the air. Forcing her thighs onto his shoulders, holding her up by her ass.

She cried out into her palm when his mouth latched onto her clit. Pulling vicious wet suckles, his arm locking behind her hips as they tried to squirm away. The pleasure near unbearable, his anger leaving her merciless.

Her shoulders writhed on the grass, hips trying to give out. He cracked his hand down on her ass twice, rising her hips back up with a growl.

Her eyes rolled marble in her head as he took her apart, gasping shallow breaths. Already a shameful mess. Delirious with wrenching pleasure.

Frost spread across her belly, orgasm circling dangerously tight. Muffling pleading moans in her throat, coming out as choking whimpers.

He laughed into her cunt, dragging his nails hard down her thigh to get her to gasp her mouth open. Leaving pink scratches in his wake.

Her mouth fell open, the pain pushing her pleasure into an unrelenting high. Gasping out in Undercommon.

"What was that?" He murmured, pulling back to stare down her belly at her.

She glared at him, tightening her thighs around his head in warning.

"No, no, use-" He sucked hard on her clit in hollow pulls of his tongue, her thighs falling back open in a shudder. "-your words."

"Fuck you." She hissed.

"Not what you said." He retorted, pushing two fingers inside her without warning.

She twisted, cunt clenching hard on his fingers. Hooking into punishing slow strikes.

He slapped her ass again. Demanding an answer.

"I said-"

She clamped around his head, twisting him down to the ground. Straddling over his face.

"Rip me apart, wizard."

His eyes lowered into dangerous slits. Grasping her by both hips, forcing her cunt into his mouth again.

She shuddered as he latched back on in near biting pulses. Completely engulfing her clit. Reaching up to pull on her throat, forcing her into an arch forward to push his fingers back inside. Slamming into her beneath, sending jolts up through her pelvis.

She gripped into his hair, face crumpling in desperate pleasure. Hand cupped over her mouth to not shriek.

His eyes cut to the edge of the trees. Pulling her hand down by the forearm and forcing it behind her back.

Her eyes followed, rocking with the force of his fucking.

Rolan stood wide-eyed on the edge a tree, hard cock in his hand.

Gale's hand spread up over her hips and belly in clear petty possession. Cupping her breast, pinching her nipple between his long fingers. Rubbing his nose in it.

Tav couldn't take it anymore, being displayed like this pushing her over the edge. Body buckling as she came hard into his mouth.

He grasped onto her hips, quickly forcing her onto her belly. Cock pushing inside her in a viciously savoring thrust.

She cried out into the dirt, her orgasm still in its throes. Clenching hard onto him, his breath hissing out with his thrusts. Rocking her forward in hard snaps.

"Look at him." He whispered, lifting her head by a pull of her hair. Winding it into his fist.

Her glazed eyes locked with Rolan's. Both of them aghast with shameful pleasure.

"See how much he wants this?" He hissed low into her ear. "Poor thing, he can't touch you. Not like I can."

As if to demonstrate, he circled his fingers hard into her clit.

She curled her head in, hands clawing at the dirt. Choppy begging cries smothered as a second orgasm threatened.

"Gale, I'm-" She pleaded, hips rising higher as it climbed. His hips slamming faster into her backside in response.

It ripped through her, sending her whole torso into shuddering spasms. Back arching down into the dirt as her cum pushed out to drip down his thighs.

Her wrenching contractions forced him to his end. Hand bracing on her shoulder. Pulling out to spill on her lower back, gasping shallow as his pleasure dripped down her spine.

She heard Rolan's muffled release and looked over, seeing his eyes flutter back into his head.

Gale was a preening exhausted shadow behind her. Rolling her ass in his palms in pure accomplished revelry.

She heard Rolan scurry away towards camp. Gale huffing out a righteous laugh.

"Oh, he's going with the others in the morning."

Tav nodded, too fucked out to regain her role as leader. Pliant and loose under his command.

"And you're going to stay with me tonight." He smiled dangerously, clearly enjoying having tamed her.

"Yes, saer." She sighed.

"Oh, do keep talking like that. You're going to be wonderfully obedient, aren't you?"

#whoops i spilled some dark gale on your nice linens 😔#lyrics from: blood sport - sleep token #screenshot by @druizard #gale x tav #gale smut #bg3 smut

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forgotten-realm5 · 8 months ago

Text

That's all I needed to hear

(image from sorryseraphim)

Gortash x Dark Urge/f!Reader

Warnings & summary: MDNI, 18+, pre-tadpole, After a successful crown heist you realise you have feelings for Gortash, but not wanting to be just like every other conquest you make him work for it. (i suck at summaries), dominant!durge, magical restraint, masturbation (f), sorcerer durge, unprotected sex, p in v, biting, blood, choking, name calling.

Words: around 2K

Notes: This is my first attempt at writing smut ahhhh! i just wanted to try and contribute to this amazing community of BG3 fans, your artwork and writings have given me life. Gortash has taken up residence in my mind and won't leave so enjoy my brainrot ! Even if just one person enjoys this I will die happy.

The crown heist was a success. A feeling of pride and power courses through your body as you consider your partnership with Lord Enver Gortash and the full extent of what can be achieved when you work together as equals. Equals… a term that has never been used to describe you. As a child of Bhaal, you were constantly reminded by your father of your mortality compared to his omnipotence. Your mind ponders at the Chosen of Bane’s use of the word to describe your newly affirmed partnership, as he sits across you with a triumphant smirk on his face. You realise that he may be the first person to actually see you and your true worth, not just a mere slave to your father’s wishes. Never in your life have you felt a connection like the one between Gortash and yourself, the way you seem to complement each other and how he does not shy away from the darkest parts of your soul but instead welcomes it. You realise you are falling for him and feel frightened for the first time in your life, unsure of what to do, unsure whether he feels it too.

You come back to reality and realise Gortash is watching you expectantly waiting for a response to his question. When you don’t answer his face morphs into one of concern. You push your internal thoughts of love and lust to the back of your mind and focus on the object of your desire.

“Are you feeling alright my dear?”

“Just tired, what were you saying? you answer as your cheeks start to flush at being caught out.

“I was just raising a glass to us and the fine job we did in acquiring the Crown of Karsus. We are now one step closer to seeing our plan complete” Gortash explains while pouring a glass of wine and sliding it towards your side of the table.

You take the goblet of wine and raise it “To us and the future of our partnership”.

Gortash chuckles his eyes darkening slightly as he responds “Yes the future of our partnership indeed”.

You noticed his eyes roam over your body and then settle of your lips. You were concerned with your own feelings tonight but didn’t stop to examine his. Now that you think about it he may be trying to seduce you, as it was his idea to have a private celebratory dinner in his room.

Gortash sets down his goblet and walks around the table to come to a stop in front of you. He reaches down and offers his hand to pull you to your feet. You let your eyes roam his body. He is wearing his usual dark attire, but without his formal jacket you can see the lines of his strong chest and muscular arms. Your eyes settle the longest on the front of his shirt where it is has been opened to reveal chest hair you always longed to brush your hands through. Your eyes then focus on his mouth and his full lips, and you imagine taking them between your teeth. You bite your own lips with longing and reach forward to take his offered hand while you stand from your chair. You finally raise your eyes to his, and notice him watching you intensely. You can read him well after all these years, but tonight you see a slight apprehension to him that is unusual.

“Come stand by the window with me” Gortash guides you to the main window in the room, overlooking all of Baldur’s Gate and the lands beyond. It was a clear night, the moon shining bright illuminating the streets and people below. Gortash takes your hand in his and gestures with his other to the city below.

“Very soon all of this will be ours to rule together” He pauses and locks eyes with you.

“You look very beautiful in the moonlight”.

Gortash waits for you to respond with lust filling his own eyes. You know he is used to getting what he wants, taking on a dominate persona in all things. You knew this encounter was a long time coming as he had been nothing but a flirt since the first time you met. Looking at him in the candlelight, you decide you don’t want to be just another easy conquest, you want to be the one to make him beg.

Stepping closer to him you soften your voice to a sultry tone.

“And you’re looking just as delicious” while your hand reaches up to caress his exposed chest through his shirt. It’s just as you always imagined, soft and warm. Gortash chuckles and then smirks at you and slowly, seductively he grabs the hand on his chest and brings it up to his mouth to kiss at the pulse point on your wrist, all the while not taking his eyes off you.

Your eyes shine with approval and he takes that as encouragement to lean forward and capture your lips. The kiss is an explosion of past longing coming to a head. You feel his stubble against your skin as you grab his face to deepen the kiss, his hands move to grip your hips. His mouth tastes of red wine and you inhale his lingering scent of incense and soap. Just as you are both about to pull apart to breathe again, you grab his bottom lip between your teeth and bite hard enough it breaks the skin causing Gortash to moan with approval. You lick the blood off his lips and move away from his embrace.

Gortash looks at you, his face flush with arousal.

“Gods you’re perfect, I can’t wait to hear how you moan my name”.

“All in good time, but first I want to hear you beg for me ” you smirk at the surprise on Gortash’s face, he narrows his eyes but answers with a hint of amusement.

"I don’t beg."

“We’ll see about that”. You motion for him to follow you back to the dining room and forcefully push him into a chair. He is watching you with enjoyment, his eyes following your every move. You stand in front of him close enough that your knees are touching and look down at the noticeable bludge in his pants, you smirk to yourself thinking this will be easier than you thought.

“Looks like someone enjoys a bit of pain” you tease him.

“Only if you’re the one delivering it” Gortash counters.

“Is that so?” you draw out. “You don’t have to hide it, I know you’re a kinky fuck”.

Before he has time to respond you grab his throat and crash your mouth to his. He moans loudly and you can feel yourself becoming increasingly wet listening to his responses. Gortash tries to grab at you to pull you on to his lap but you pull away, and take a step backwards, enjoying teasing him. You quickly cast hold person so he can’t move his body. Gortash chuckles at your use of a restraint and has an amused and hungry look on his face while you start to take off your clothes in front of him. Now standing in front of him completely nude his eyes roam the curves of your body, his face in awe of your physique.

“Come here so I can touch you." You note a slight hint of neediness in his voice that only spurs you on.

“That doesn’t sound like begging to me."

You note his slight annoyed expression and laugh. You then start to move your hands slowly down your body taking time to cup your breasts and play with your pointed nipples. His eyes are glued on your hands.

“Let’s see how long the Chosen of Bane can hold out for” you tease.

His mouth drops open slightly as your hand travels to your pelvic region. You lock eyes with Gortash while you slip one finger into your folds and let out a small moan. You bring the finger back out, now glistening with your arousal which causes a small noise that sounds like a whimper to come out of Gortash's mouth. You smile at him, eyes challenging him to break. He tries to shift in his seat against the restrains of the spell, his arousal threatening to burst through his pants.

“You cruel torturous woman, when I get my hands on you” he mutters, with a violent look in his eye. There is however also a slight note of defeat in his voice which makes you realise he is almost at breaking point.

You continue and pump two fingers in and out of yourself, moaning louder than needed to further torture him. You then bring your fingers up to your mouth and lick them clean slowly, exaggerating your tongue movements to demonstrate what he is missing out on. Gortash is captivated by your show, pupils blown wide with hunger. You then walk up to him and a plop yourself on his lap straddling his waist with your nipples at his eye level. You continuing to touch yourself in his lap, every so often brushing up against his achingly hard, still clothed member. Gortash moans loudly at the display looking about ready to explode.

“Alright! alright! you win” you grin at the victory and at the bitter tone in his voice. You stop your show to listen to the rest of his sentence.

Gortash pauses looking away from you

“Well, I’m waiting” you respond sharply.

“Please” you hear in a quiet voice.

“What was that, couldn’t quite hear you” you reply in amusement.

“Please!” Gortash almost shouts with an irritated look in his eyes. His voice then returns to his usual level.

“Please just let me touch you, let me fuck you, you cruel wicked thing” you hear the arousal in his voice, breathy and needy.

“That’s all I needed to hear” you respond as you break your concentration on the spell.

In an instant his arms are around you, picking you up and almost running towards the bed. He throws you on the bed and gets on top of you.

“You little harlot” you hear his light-hearted tone.

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy my show, I know you did." You smirk and grab between his legs to emphasises his arousal still tightly pushing against his breaches.

He gives you a look of hunger and hurries to remove his shirt only just realising he is still fully clothed. His body is how you imagined it, muscular yet soft with dark hair coating his body in just the right places. You can feel your desire burning inside you as you eye the patch of hair that trails down his stomach. You reach forward to undo his pants and push his undergarments off eager to see all of him. His member bounces free of its confines already slick. Your eyes widen at the thickness of it, already anticipating the burn. Gortash notices your line of vision and chuckles with pride as he grabs your chin and pulls you in for another heated kiss. He hungrily kisses every part of your body that he was denied while kneading your breasts with his hands. He moves from your mouth to your neck where he bites and sucks at you, you let out a whimper knowing it will leave a bruise. He then grazes his teeth over your nipple, licking, sucking and then finally biting causing you to cry out at the feeling. You feel his self-satisfied smirk against your skin as he continues his path downwards. His tongue enters your folds without warning causing you to grab a hand full of his hair and cry out his name. You can feel yourself about to come undone quicker than you expected .

“Fuck Enver, I need you inside me now."

“That’s all I needed to hear”, his smartass response mocking your words from before.

You let it slide for now as your need is too great, but you make a mental note to make him pay for it next time.

He lines up with your entrance and buries himself inside you in one smooth motion. You both moan loudly at the feeling of connection. You feel a sharp tinge of pain mixed with intense pleasure as you get used to his width. He starts to pump in and out of you at a quickened pace knowing it won’t take long for either of you to cum. You grab on to his body and rake your nails down his back hard enough to draw blood. Gortash hisses in pain and pleasure and bites at your neck in response. Gortash comes first moaning your name loudly, causing you to follow closely, both your bodies withering in ecstasy as you ride out the climax. Breathing heavily Gortash rolls off you and you both lie together in silence for a few seconds recovering. You move to get up off the bed but he stops you with his arm.

“Just where do you think you’re going?”

“Back to my room?” as though it was obvious.

He pauses, looking unsure of himself.

“I want you to stay, tonight and every night after that. You’re mine now”, his serious expression softens slightly.

“If you want to be?”

As you look into his eyes you are surprised see a vulnerability that you have never seen before. You realised that this night means as much to him as it does to you, and with that thought you agree to stay, content to lie in his arms dreaming of your future together.

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hoernypie · 4 months ago

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⋆｡˚ moonlight magic ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

tags: public, p+v, creamp!e

wc: 1972

Suguru and I had been planning this vacation for months, eager to escape the stressful missions and life of jujutsu sorcerers, allowing ourselves to immerse in the peacefulness of the countryside. The cottage, nestled by the tranquil lake, was a charming retreat that promised peace and relaxation after all our stress. We arrived just as the golden sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the calm waters. After unpacking our bags and preparing a simple dinner, we stepped out onto the porch to breathe in the crisp night air, the gentle hum of cicadas our only company. The full moon, a luminous orb in the velvet sky, reflected on the lake's surface, turning it into a shimmering mirror of silver light. The thought of a night walk to explore the area was too tempting to resist, so we laced up our shoes and set off into the quiet embrace of the surrounding woods.

"I hate when they cry", I huffed as we walked slowly. "Who's cry?" Suguru asked confused, his eyes searching the darkened woods with a hint of concern. I chuckled, squeezing his upper arm. "The cicadas." He listened intently for a moment, before snorting. We continued our stroll, the moonlight guiding our path.

As we walked deeper into the woods, the sound of the cicadas grew faint, replaced by the rhythmic rustling of leaves beneath our feet. The air grew cooler, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and pine. Suguru, kept a watchful eye on our surroundings, while I drowned in the beauty of the moonlit landscape. Our laughter echoed through the trees as we pointed out peculiar shapes in the shadows cast by the silvery beams. Suddenly, the serenity was pierced by an unmistakable splash from the lake. We froze, our hearts pounding in sync with the night's rhythm. Curiosity piqued, we cautiously approached the water's edge, our eyes scanning the now-disturbed surface for any sign of what had caused the disturbance.

"Suguru... Do you think it's a good idea to stay here?" I asked with a worry in my voice, looking at the ripples that distorted the moon's reflection. Suguru looked at me, his gaze flickering with a mix of curiosity and caution. "Let's just check it out," he whispered, taking a step closer to the lake. The water remained still, but the silence felt heavier as if the night itself was holding its breath. "No, no! Please don't check, it's how people die in horror movies!" I whined looking up to see his face.

Ignoring my pleas for caution, Suguru pulled out his phone, switching on the flashlight to scan the lake. The beam of light danced across the water, revealing the silhouettes of trees and rocks on the other side. Then, it caught something moving, something large and unmistakable. "It's just a loon," he said with a chuckle, the tension vanishing from his shoulders. The bird, having realized it was no longer hidden, let out a call before diving back into the water. "See?" He turned to me, flashing a reassuring smile. "It's just nature doing its thing." "Stupid bird", I huffed when we sat on the fallen tree trunk, "I almost saw the pearly gates."

With our hearts still racing from the unexpected encounter with the loon, we shared a nervous laugh. The adrenaline rush brought us closer together, and we found ourselves leaning into each other, our eyes locking in the soft moonlight. The air grew thicker, charged with a new kind of energy. Before I could protest, Suguru leaned in and pressed his lips to mine, his hand gently cradling the back of my neck. The kiss was slow and tender, starkly contrasting to the chaotic world we had left behind. We made out, our breaths mingling in the cool night air, the moon casting a gentle glow on our faces. For a moment, we forgot about the monsters and curses of our daily lives, lost in the tranquility of the countryside and the warmth of each other's embrace. The lake's surface stilled once more, reflecting our silhouettes as we deepened our kiss, the only sound the distant whisper of the breeze playing with the leaves above us.

Our kiss grew more passionate as we let go of our carefulness, the stress of our lives melting away with each tender brush of our lips. Suguru's hand slid down to hold my hand, his thumb tracing circles on my palm as we breathed in unison. The moon, our silent witness, cast a soft, ethereal light over us, painting our skin in a silver glow. Time stood still as we savored this moment of intimacy, the serenity of the lake a contrast to the intense passion we shared. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves while we kept whispering sweet nothings to ourselves, getting lost in the pure feeling.

As our kiss intensified, the desire to be even closer consumed us. Suguru's hands found the hem of my shirt, gently lifting it over my head, revealing the moon's glow on my bare skin. Our lips never parted, as he worked his way down, his kisses leaving a trail of heat along my neck and collarbone. His touch was tender and exploratory as if discovering me for the first time. In return, my fingers traced the firm lines of his back, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath his shirt. With a soft murmur, I helped him remove it, our bodies pressing together in the warm night air. The moon, still high in the sky, bathed us in its soft light as we slowly undressed each other, our clothes discarded like leaves on the forest floor. Our kisses grew deeper, more insistent, as our bodies melded together. Without a word, Suguru swept me up into his arms, the sudden movement sending a shiver down my spine. His eyes, gleaming with playful mischief, met mine as he stepped into the lake, the water cool against my skin. "What are you doing?" I gasped, but the laughter in his voice was contagious, and soon I found myself giggling as he walked further in. "I've always wanted to do this," he murmured, his eyes never leaving mine as the water reached our waists. The moon's reflection shimmered around us, casting a glow on our faces as we kissed once more, the cold water contrasting the heat between us. Our bodies moved in sync as he held me, the gentle current of the lake swaying us back and forth around our bodies. It felt like a moment of pure bliss, making our kisses grow more passionate with each passing second. The world outside the cottage, the missions and curses, all felt a lifetime away as we shared this moment.

Suguru's strong arms tightened around me, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist to maintain balance. His hands explored my bare skin, sending waves of pleasure through me, and I gasped as he found my hardened nipples, teasing them with his thumbs. Suguru's hands continued to explore my body, his palms cupping my breasts with a gentle yet firm touch. He rolled my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, the sensation sending electric jolts of pleasure through my core. I moaned into his mouth, my hips rocking against his growing arousal.

Suguru broke the kiss, his gaze dropping to my chest. He kissed a path down my neck, his hands moving now to fully embrace my breasts. His mouth found my nipple which he sucked gently at first, then with increasing pressure before flicking his tongue against the sensitive peak. I gasped when his tongue sent waves of pleasure through my body. I gripped his hair before he switched to the other one, giving it equal attention as his teeth grazed it. The water around us grew choppy as our movements grew more urgent. Suguru's mouth left my breasts to kiss back my neck, leaving hickeys while his hands guided me to straddle him more firmly. I could feel the tip of his dick pressing against my entrance, and the anticipation was killing me. He bit my neck as he pushed just the tip of his dick inside me, the cold water of the lake rippling around us. My walls clenched around him as he stopped, savoring the feeling.

Biting his bottom lip, Suguru pushed his dick in one swift move, his tip hitting my cervix and sending a wave of pleasure mixed with pain that filled my body. My moan echoed through the quiet night, mingling with the distant sounds of the forest and the occasional splash of water. His movements grew more desperate, the water around us splashing with his rhythm. Each thrust sent a jolt of glee through me, my nails digging into his shoulders as I held on tightly. Our kisses grew more desperate with our lips crashing into each other while we chased the pleasure. Suguru's hands gripped my hips as he buried himself deeper with each powerful stroke. With each passing moment, his strokes grew more powerful and desperate, his grip on my hips tightening, almost bruising my skin. My body was on fire, the pain from Suguru's fingers digging into my soft skin was sending me closer to the edge. I could hear his muffled breaths growing ragged against my neck which was now covered with hickeys and bite marks.

"You're so fucking tight," he grunted against my neck, his hips moving quicker and more forcefully beneath me. "I can feel every inch of you," he groaned, his teeth grazing my earlobe before biting down gently. "You're going to come for me, aren't you?" he whispered, his voice ragged. My breaths grew shallow, my body trembling as I approached climax, the tension coiling tighter with every stroke when he hit my sweet spot. The overwhelming pleasure filled my body, my pussy clenching tightly around his dick as I mewled out his name, looking at him with glossy eyes, before he pushed his dick inside me, making me squirt all over him. The warm liquid spurted between us, mixing with the cool lake water as my pussy clenched tightly around his cock. "Fuck, yes," he murmured, his grip on my hips bruising as he held me in place, his cock pulsing deep inside me. His thrusts grew erratic, his breaths coming in harsh pants as he chased his own release. "You're going to milk me dry," he rasped, his voice thick with need. "Look at me," he demanded, squishing my cheeks and pulling my face closer to his. "Look at me as I fill your pussy." I looked up, my eyes locking with his as his strokes grew more intense, his words of how good it felt only heightened my sensitivity. "You're so fucking beautiful when you come," he moaned before his warm cum filled me, my pussy greedily gripping his cock as he emptied himself inside me.

Suguru didn't stop moving his hips as he came, his cock pushing deeper with each spurt of cum that filled me up. "You're so fucking perfect," he murmured, his eyes hooded with pleasure. "Your pussy is so tight, it's like it's made for me." We stayed like that for a moment, his lips leaving soft kisses on bite marks and hickeys that he left on me. The only sound was the quiet lapping of the lake water against our skin. I held him tightly, our hearts racing, as our shallow breaths filled the silence. The moon's light reflected off the water around us, a silent witness to our passion. "I've wanted to do this for so long," he spoke softly, his voice thick with satisfaction. "And it was worth every second of waiting." I smiled, my cheeks flushed, knowing that this was just the beginning of a week filled with us going wild.

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ironstrange1991 · 6 months ago

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Baby, I'm the lucky one

Pairing: Defender!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Defender is having a rough day and his wife comes to help him to relax.

Word Count: 5,9k

Warnings: SMUT: Thigh riding, blow job, cum eating, p n v sex, creampie.

A/N: It's finally here! It took me a long time to finish this one and I really hope it's worth the wait. I made it very romantic and although it had already appeared in some of my headcanons, seeing Eric inspired me with the glasses thing and is Vincent in the pic, but I can only see Defender in it so bare with me and have a nice reading ;)

The sound of approaching footsteps in the hallway informed Stephen that he was no longer alone in the Sanctum. He thought he heard the creaking of a portal and now the sound of boots on the floor confirmed it. Sighing, he closed the huge old book he was reading and took off his glasses, placing them on the desk and pressing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger.

Defender Strange was having a rough day, to say the least. It was actually a rough week that came right after a terrible mission. It seemed that the problems were piling up and he could no longer keep up with them, much less solve them before another one came up. To make matters worse, in addition to the feeling of helplessness he felt with each new impossible situation that was brought to him hoping he would magically find a solution for them, he also felt guilty for being so busy the last few days that he could barely pay attention to his pregnant wife.

The recently discovered pregnancy had been quite a surprise and was definitely not planned, but Stephen was happy with it, he just wished it had happened at a calmer time, but then again, there would ever be some calmer time in his life since he took on the position of Sorcerer Supreme and leader of the Defenders? Of course not.

The sound of footsteps got closer then stopped and Stephen heard a soft knock on the door to which he responded with a quick "Come in."

Wong entered the room with an expression in his face that told Stephen the master was bringing bad news.

"Tell me" Defender asked, putting on his glasses again and rummaging through the desk drawers for the pack of painkillers he had left there days before. It was true to say that excessive work combined with worries and poor diet over the last few days were contributing to his migraines. This time he decided to take a pill as soon as the first symptoms appeared in the hope of being spared of another terrible one.

Upon finding the pack, he took the pill and got up, heading towards the small corner table where he left a bottle of whiskey and two glasses arranged on a tray. He poured a dose and took it in one gulp along with the pill while listening to Wong explaining how preparations for the next mission had been halted because two of the masters who were supposed to go with the Defenders ended up injured in a battle against an interdimensional entity that had been released into the Kamar Taj by a curious student.

"I'm afraid we'll have to postpone it or else..."

Wong didn't finish what he was going to say, but Stephen added, "I'll have to go."

Wong sighed "It's been a rough few days for sure, but things will calm down like they always do."

Defender sat down again and pointed to the book he was reading "I haven't found any spell that can repair the damage caused by Nightmare in the passages of the Dream Realm. If we can't fix that we will have more problems in our world and that is something that I cannot allow. Lives have already been lost."

"It was not your fault." Wong stated and then suggested the same thing that Stephen had spent all afternoon considering.

"Perhaps it is time to request an audience with the Vishanti. You are the Sorcerer Supreme and only you can do it."

He nodded, "I don't think there will be any other alternative, but in any case I will continue my research into the night. Why would I rest, right?" He said bitterly and watched Wong's lips form a thin line.

"I feel like I'm failing you, my friend, especially at this time when your personal life is changing."

"But a Sorcerer Supreme must place his duties above his personal life, Wong. You know this very well because you were the one who told me this so many times." Defender responded dryly and then shook his head and spoke again in a calmer voice. "I'm sorry. You're a good mentor and a great friend, Wong. You've never failed me. You never could."

Wong nodded but pressed the issue "Strange, you need to take care of your pregnant wife. She needs you now more than ever."

Stephen ran his hand over his face, sighing heavily. "And how do you suggest I do that while jumping from mission to mission, meeting to meeting, and spending days and nights studying magic books in this office?"

Wong's answer was firm and decisive, "You need to delegate some tasks, Strange. These books, I can take them to the Kamar Taj with me and have them examined by our librarian. If anything important is found, you will be notified. Regarding the mission... I can go in your place if you wish."

Stephen shook his head "You belong at the Kamar Taj, Wong. The place would be a mess without you."

"Do you have a better idea? Besides, Master Hamir can take care of the place in my absense;." Wong insisted. "You already said you don't trust anyone else to do the job. Let me take over this mission and you can have some calmer days to rest."

Stephen knew his friend was right and no matter how much his pride and sense of duty said no, he ended up giving in.

"Fine, but I'll stick with the books tonight. I doubt I'll be able to sleep anyway. You can come get them by the morning."

Wong nodded "I will immediately return to the Kamar Taj to finish the preparations."

"What about the student?"

"Oh, he'll be punished. Don't worry."

Defender nodded watching Wong leave the office and close the door. The footsteps moved further away until they disappeared and the Sanctum was once again plunged into complete silence. IStephen sighed feeling the tiredness of the day hitting him. His eyes felt heavy as he tried to return to his reading, but it wasn't sleep that afflicted him, but an exhaustion so great that it seemed to consume him. He turned his attention back to his books, anyway, and barely noticed the hours passing by.

...

The Sanctum was plunged into darkness when you got home from work and you wondered if Stephen was still at the Kamar Taj at that hour. It was way past 8pm and you were working overtime almost everyday of the week since last week. It was safe to say that the last few weeks had been challenging for you as much it had been for your husband, but although you said everything was okay and that you understood, you knew he blamed himself for spending so little time with you, especially now that you found out about the pregnancy.

It was recent. Your belly wasn’t showing yet and you hadn't told anyone. Not even your parents knew because you wanted to complete your first trimester before telling the news. Stephen had promised that he would try to spend more time with you, but since then so many things had been happening and demanding his immediate attention that it had become impossible for him to keep his promise and although you said you understood, you knew he blamed himself.

You went straight up to your room, took a shower and changed into comfortable pajamas before looking for Stephen around the Sanctum and finally finding him in his office leaning over one of his huge books reading until exhaustion.

He tried to smile at you when you opened the door, but you could clearly see that he was not well, tiredness taking over every expression on his beautiful face, his always blue eyes, now darkened behind the lenses of his reading glasses.

"Don't tell me you spent all day here." You said, already knowing the answer.

"Pretty much." He replied sheepishly watching you approach, but instead of sitting in one of the chairs facing him, you walked around the desk and stood next to him waiting for him to turn around and then bending down to kiss him. You tasted whiskey on his lips which wasn't a good sign. Stephen only drank if he was very happy or very upset.

"Tell me how your day was, baby." He said before you had time to ask anything.

You grimaced, “Tiring and boring, but okay.”

He chuckled, "I guess that sums mine up too. Don't we make quite a pair?"

You nodded, watching him bring his hand to your belly and gently feel it. "And the baby?"

You smiled, "You know it's too early for me to feel anything, right? But overall I think it's okay. The morning sickness is killing me though."

He nodded, bending forward and placing a small kiss on your belly that made your heart flutter in your chest.

"I know I've been really busy the last few days, but I promise things will calm down." He said looking away as if he felt too guilty to look at you. You cupped his face and lifted his chin making him look at you.

"Stephen, it's okay. I get it. We've been together long enough for me to understand how things work." You assured "Besides, I have been working a lot too."

"I made you a promise..." He started to say, but you interrupted him by placing your index finger on his lip.

"I won't hold it against you, baby. I knew full well what I was getting myself into when I married the Sorcerer Supreme. It's not a job you drop anytime you want and get vacations from."

He allowed himself a sigh and you realized how much he needed to hear those words. In fact, looking at him closely you noticed how much more tired he seemed, how dark circles were appearing under his eyes and the lines on his forehead seemed deeper.

"Did you eat something?" You asked, again, already knowing the answer. He just shook his head.

"You've barely slept lately, Stephen. You know you need to rest or your body will end up forcing you to stay in bed one way or another." You said as your hand tugged on his hair tie and let his soft hair fall down his shoulders in a cascade of dark and silver strands.

"I care about you, baby." You confessed, placing the hair tie on your wrist and combing the strands with your fingers, gently undoing the knots. That small gesture that you had already repeated countless times was always enough to disarm him and as you expected, he hummed contently and moved the chair away from the desk, enough to pull you by the wait waist to position you in front of him. You straddled one of his thighs and he wrapped his strong arms around your waist and leaned forward to kiss you harder this time. You cupped his face feeling your body melt before him and your stomach turned in that specific way that only he made you feel.

When you broke the kiss he glanced at you from behind the lenses of his glasses and you smiled "You look super cute with glasses, you know that?"

He blushed and instinctively reached to take them off as if only at that moment he had realized that he was wearing them in front of you, but you stopped him and kissed him again, feeling his hands return to your waist and the sensation in your stomach increased. You buried your face in his neck admitting. "I miss you, baby. You've barely touched me this last week and I know it's not your fault, but I really miss it."

"I know. I miss you too. Come here, kiss me."

You kissed him hard, your fingers immediately tangling themselves in his hair and a soft moan escaped his throat. The sound made you lose your composure. Without you realizing exactly what you were doing, your hips began to move back and forth, riding his muscular thigh and desperately looking for some friction.

You and Stephen had an amazing sex life and you weren't used to going without sex for a long time and eight days was a lot for you. You needed him like air to breathe and your body searched for him instinctively.

He sighed contentedly as his hands slid from your waist to your bare thighs, his fingers digging into the soft fat there helping you move.

"You know I wasn't absent for lack of desire, don't you? I was just very tired." Stephen made a point of explaining and you smiled and bit your lower lip as you increased the movements of your hips and a moan escaped your lips. "I know. But I can help you relax a little if you let me."

Stephen nodded, raising one of his hands to your ass and squeezing your cheek as he lifted your chin and made you look into his eyes while grinding yourself shamelessly in his thigh. "I'm sure you can, but right now it seems like you're more interested in seeking your own pleasure, right?"

You knew he was just teasing. Stephen's altruism extended to bed as well. He was always more concerned about satisfying you than satisfying himself.

"Its been too long" You complained. "I spent the whole week thinking about making love to you. You barely slept by side this week. I even tried to resolve the issue myself, but I couldn't cum, it's as if my body refused to have pleasure without you there."

Stephen eyes glanced at you in complete awe "That's so beautiful, baby. You have no idea how happy you make me by telling me this."

"But now I want to make you relax, to give a little bit of a special attention to my beloved husband." You insisted, cupping his face and moaning again, but contradicting what you just said, you started to move faster, rotating your hips and looking for the delicious pressure that Stephen's thigh muscle provided on your clit and feeling yourself getting wetter between your legs, the wetness soaking his pants and making him hiss in pure surprise and satisfaction.

"It's okay love, you know I love providing pleasure for you. You have no idea how hard I am right now." He confessed lacing his fingers in your hair and tugging then a little bit.

"You're going to show me, aren't you? Tell me what you want me to do to make you feel better, baby."

Stephen smiled humming contemplatively to himself. "You're already doing it."

Resting both hands on Stephen's shoulders, you forced yourself against him, increasing the intensity of the friction and moaning, surrendering to your pleasure and a wave of heat took over you as your body found the ecstasy you were so desperately looking for.

Stephen kissed you passionately, his tongue searching for yours, sucking it lightly. He broke the kiss with a teasing bite on your lower lip and when you finally opened your eyes and allowed yourself to look at him there was a beautiful smile on his face that showed perfect teeth while also showing the crow's feet around his eyes. God, your man was so handsome.

"Satisfied?" He teased to which you immediately shook your head.

"Not until I make you forget all your worries."

"And who said I'm worried?" He replied, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand.

"The whiskey I tasted in your tongue."

He hummed "You know me way too much for me to lie to you, isn't it?"

"I don't even know why you try." You said, placing a strand of hair behind his ear.

"Want to tell me about it? I know there's not much I can do to help, but I can listen. You don't have to be the leader of the Defenders or the Sorcerer Supreme when you're with me. You can be just Stephen."

He listened silently glancing at you with tenderness and then nodded "I thank you every day for that." He said and then smiled and you noticed a slight flush in his cheeks. "I know it's cheesy to say this, but I really am a lucky man to have you as my wife, Y/n. I could never ask for a better woman."

You smiled broadly. You were used to your husband's constant compliments and it was safe to say that although he wasn't given to public displays of affection, behind close doors he was the most affectionate man in the world.

"Maybe it's a little cheesy, but I never get tired of hearing you say it." You confessed, getting up from his lap and feeling your face heat up when you saw the wet circle on his pants.

"Let's go to bed. You need to rest." You said, taking his hand and pulling lightly, hoping he would agree easily, but he didn't move a muscle and shoot you an apologetical glance.

"I promised Wong I would finish this tonight."

You sighed "Stephen..."

"I know, but Wong will take my place on the next mission and that will give me a few days off to rest. I promise things will be calmer and we will have plenty of time for both of us."

You smiled, surrendering to his charm, but not completely convinced.

"Sounds good, but it doesn't change the fact that you need some rest tonight." You said looking angrily at the gigantic books on his desk as if they were your most hated enemies and then you smiled to yourself "Perhaps... I think I can help you with that."

"With my reading?" He asked, knowing full well that it wasn't what you meant.

But you just smile, pushing his chair back to give you more space and kneeling between his legs. The act itself was self-explanatory and Stephen let out a satisfied groan.

"Will you give me your mouth, baby girl?" He asked with a dose of extra sweetness in his voice.

You bit your lower lip feeling your heart flutter with the pet name. "Do you want it?"

"Always." Defender replied watching you unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants. The gesture was enough to make his dick throb.

"You're so hard, Stephen." You said taking it in your hands. His cock was so beautiful, big and thick, veiny with a red tip. There was a drop of precum leaking from his slit and you licked it slowly, letting it stick to your tongue in a string and then sucking it into your mouth.

"You did this to me, baby. Seeing you ride my thigh left me like this." He said caressing your face and moving his fingers down to your chin, lifting your face to make you look directly at him. "You are so beautiful. From the moment I met you I knew I would be yours."

You smiled and as if you wanted to prove to him that he was right, you gave a slow and long lick on the back of his cock ending with a light suck on the sensitive head and you kept your eyes locked with his all the time. He moaned and his hips jolted against your mouth involuntarily. You placed light kisses on the side of his length, teasing him.

"Such a tease..." He whimpered, giving in to the desire. "I need to be inside your mouth. I want to feel the heat, the wetness. Such a sweet mouth."

You surrendered to his pleas and took him into your mouth, sucking him slowly and bobbing your head up and down while swirling your tongue around him to give him maximum pleasure.

Maybe Stephen didn't know, maybe he was so selfless that he lacked the ability to understand that you loved him just the same. That he was worthy of being loved in that proportion and even more.

He considered himself the luckiest man in the world to have you in his life, but you knew that in reality, you were the lucky one to have the love of a man so decent, so courageous and most importantly, so caring and attentive.

His moans filled the room and reached your ears like music as you pleasured him slowly, rotating your hand along what you couldn't take in your mouth without gagging.

"So good to me, baby... doing so good to me." He muttered softly almost as if speaking to himself.

You let go of his cock to use both hands to brush your hair out of your face and twist it into a bun and then direct one of Stephen's hands to your head to keep it there. Stephen complied by grabbing your hair in a fistful, but he didn't push, he just accepted what was being given to him willingly.

You returned your attention to your work, working your mouth and tongue along the entire length of his cock, stopping only to draw a breath of air into your lungs and then returning to pleasure him.

"Oh baby it's so good." He said as his dick pulsed in your mouth. "Can I cum in your mouth?" He asked. He always asked even if the answer was always yes.

You hummed positively feeling the weight of his other hand on your head and hot cum filling your mouth as he moaned and gasped for air. "Oh baby..." He let out a loud groan when you took him out of your mouth. "Fuck, such a sweet mouth. You are so good to me." He said caressing your cheek affectionately. "This was amazing. Thank you."

You gulped his cum down unceremoniously and responded with a proud smile as you put his cock back inside his pants. You stood up, taking his hand again and pulling him to stand up too, but he gave you that apologetical look again making you roll your eyes.

"I know you don't want to leave here before you finish your work, but we can stay. Your office is comfortable enough. I just need you and I think you need me too."

He hesitated for a moment, but then something in your face, probably the way you batted your eyelashes at him, made him chuckle and get up from the chair.

"You know you can get anything from me when you give me that look, don't you?" He said pinching your cheek.

"Anything? Really?" You confirmed.

"Anything." He said wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him. You chuckled and wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him softly. "Then leave work for later and make love to me."

Stephen hummed allowing himself to be pulled across the room. There was a small two-seater recamier in front of the unlit fireplace and that was exactly where you led him.

The night was particularly cold so Stephen lit the fireplace with a quick and almost imperceptible gesture of his fingers and in the same way he locked the door to his office. At the beginning of your relationship he tried not to use magic in front of you, but now, years later, you were used to small things like this.

You touched his face and pulled him to your lips, kissing him like you haven't done it in days, hungrily, thirstily and most of all passionately. And oh, how he loved it when you kissed him like that.

Your hands began to unbuckle his belts and he let himself be undressed slowly, piece by piece while you devoured him with your eyes. There was something about the passion with which you looked at him that made him feel like the luckiest man on earth.

Stephen never had trouble getting a lay. Women used to throw themselves into his arms in the days when he worked as a surgeon at the hospital and he had fucked pretty much every woman that worked there, but none of that could be compared to what he had with you. You were the first woman Stephen made love to. And before, he swore that the term was nothing more than a silly romanticization of sex, but you changed his mind. You changed him completely and he knew that no sex in the world could compare to making love with someone who truly loves you.

"What is it?" You asked, probably noticing the way he looked at you as you helped him get rid of his underwear, leaving him completely naked for you. Your eyes left his for a second to see what you should already know. He was ready for you again. In fact, there was no way he wouldn't be when your eyes seemed to burn his skin with desire.

"I love you, Y/n. I know I've said this a million times, but I..."

You kissed him again, interrupting him and then nodded "And I love you. You have no idea how in love I am with you and every day I feel like I love you more."

He smiled feeling your hand running down his chest and going to where he needed you most at that moment. You grabbed him and pumped him slowly up and down and he cupped your face with both hands resting his forehead on yours "These hands..."

You just smiled, squeezing your hand around him a little tighter and then gently pushing him to sit down and proceeding to undress yourself for him. You were so beautiful. Your hair, Your eyes, the shape of your body, everything was so inviting.

You started by taking off your pajama top. You weren't wearing anything underneath it, so he was treated to the wonderful view of your breasts, the nipples hardened by the cold night air. You caressed one of your breasts to tease him, knowing full well how much he loved them. Then you reached down and took off your shorts and panties, quickly kicking them to the side on the floor and walked over to him with a proud smile on your lips.

You knew. You knew exactly what the sight of your naked body did to your husband and you liked it.

"Come here, baby. Let me touch you. You said you miss my touch." He said.

You nodded holding the hand he extended to you and straddling his thighs.

You took both hands to the temples of his glasses and gently took them off and put them on with a smile plastered on your face. Stephen couldn't help his own smile.

"What do you think?" You asked with a cute pout.

"Charming. It looks much better on you than it does on me, that's for sure."

You shook your head, removing the glasses and placing them to the side. "I like you with glasses, even though you don't like me to see you wearing them."

Stephen stroked your cheek. "I'm a vain man. It's hard to accept that I have to wear them, let alone that you see me with them."

"Silly." You said, leaning in to kiss him and Stephen wasted no time, he needed to be inside you. He missed you as much as you missed him.

He spat into his hand and rubbed the saliva over the red, extremely sensitive head and directed it towards your entrance. You both moaned loudly as you let yourself sink down onto his cock, the penetration easy but tight. Stephen loved how you felt so warm and wet around him, it felt so good. To be inside you always felt like home.

There was nothing in the world that compared to the feeling of having Stephen inside you. He was big, thick, but not only that, he was the love of your life.

His hands grabbed your waist as you began to move slowly, rotating your hips sensually and feeling him fill every inch of you. You closed your eyes and increased the pace, your hand seeking support on his shoulder, the other twisting a nipple between your fingers.

"Just like that, baby. You look so beautiful riding me like this. Feels so good."

He pulled you to his lips and kissed you hard, his hips thrusting up which made you moan between his lips. He brought one hand between you and started circling your clit with it which made your entire body shake on top of his and he hummed in satisfaction. "So sensitive. Tell me, was it that touch you were missing so much?"

You nodded vehemently "Oh yes" You responded increasing the pace of your hips as you moved up and down, fucking him, but it didn't feel like It was enough, you needed more.

"Baby please..." You murmured between countless tireless kisses "...need more."

He immediately held your waist and started thrusting up, going deep and giving you the relief you wanted. A little scream left your lips as he reached that special spot inside you.

"Yes, yes, yes..." You screamed amid the sound of your bodies colliding "Oh my god, baby..." But he interrupted your cries with a hungry kiss as he held you tight in his arms and got up dragging you to the floor. Your back touched the plush rug and his lips trailed down your chin and neck until they found their destination on your breasts. He held them with both trembling hands as he sucked one nipple and then the other and gave small bites to your skin, hiding his face between them and moaning as he did so.

"Stephen..." You begged and he surrendered. He directed his dick back to your entrance and slowly penetrated you, burying his face in the crook of your neck while your legs were intertwined behind his back and he began to thrust slowly, but putting more strength and intensity with each thrust until he reached a hard rhythm.

You wrapped your arm around his back, nails digging into his flesh while the other got lost in the sea of dark and silver hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands, pulling them with each thrust that was quickly taking you to your limit.

Your moans right in his ear and your fingers tugging at his hair in rhythm with each thrust were triggers that were driving Stephen to his limit. He could feel his balls tightening, his cock was pulsing deliciously and he didn't want to fight it. He was in paradise, lost between your legs he felt like the happiest man in the world. He searched for your lips and kissed you hard feeling your walls contract around him.

"Baby tell me you're close" He asked between your lips and you nodded.

"Yes baby, so close. No need to hold it. Just give it to me." You said between desperate kisses on his lips. You knew him so well, he even needed to tell you that he was about to cum. You simply knew how to read all the signs on his body.

Stephen moaned loudly surrendering to his own pleasure. He gave three more strong thrusts and then stopped, burying his face in your neck and moaning deliciously in your ear. The sound was the ultimate trigger that launched you straight into your high as you felt him filling you with hot cum and your walls contracted around him as your legs trembled beneath him.

"Oh baby I love you." He whispered in your ear before allowing himself to look at you. There was a beautiful smile on his lips and tenderness in his blue eyes. All the tiredness you saw in them seemed to have disappeared.

...

The Sanctum was dark and silent when Wong stepped through the portal into the main hall. However, the light emanating through Defender's office door showed that the Sorcerer Supreme was still engrossed in his tireless work.

That made Wong sigh. A man needed to recognize that he was just a man and needed rest like any other human being.

Wong devoted himself to the duty that brought him there in the first place and was about to leave when he decided to beg Stephen to go to sleep. He knocked and waited. The sorcerer's voice came soon after.

"Yes."

Wong tried the handle, but the door was locked, which was strange.

"Can I come in?" He asked and when he heard a chuckle coming from the room he understood.

"I don't think it would be appropriate at the moment." Defender replied and another chuckle was heard. "Is it something important? Give me two minutes. I'll meet you in the lounge."

Wong smiled to himself. All his worries melting away. "No. It's okay. I talked to everyone involved and we managed to work out the latest plans for the mission. We'll leave tomorrow night. I'll keep you informed. Take the opportunity to rest, Stephen."

He turned to leave and then he heard Y/n's familiar voice "Good night, Wong."

"Indeed, my dear." He muttered to himself opening a portal back to Kamar Taj. The Sorcerer Supreme would be fine as long as he had his wife to make sure that happened."

...

"He's going to be traumatized." You said, laughing softly.

Although the night was cold, the heat coming from the fireplace combined with the heavy blanket Stephen had conjured and his own body heat were more than enough to keep you warm.

He was lying with his back on the rug and his arm extended to support your shoulders. Your legs were tangled with his lazily.

"He should be pretty used to it by now." He responded caressing your cheek with the back of his hand. "He was worried about me, just like you. That's why he offered to go on the mission in my place."

You nodded, lifting your head to stare at him. "I know things get difficult sometimes, but you need to learn to delegate, Stephen. Especially now."

"I know." He sighed and you noticed how he looked less tired now. You didn’t really think you could save him of all his problems, but it was undeniable that he felt better when he spent quality time with you.

"He knows." Stephen confessed.

You smirked knowing exactly what he was talking about. "I thought we agreed to keep it a secret until the end of the first trimester."

He nodded. "I needed to tell him. Wong is my best friend and my right-hand man. He helps me manage this madness that is Kamar Taj. He needed to know and besides, I know you two are going to be okay and I can't wait to see it growing inside of you." He said, lowering his hand to your belly and keeping it there.

"Still, I'd rather wait before telling anyone else. Promise me you won't tell anyone else."

"I promise."

You smiled "Are you really happy with it? I know we weren't planning on it."

"I'm very happy. And terrified." He said chuckling and you cupped his face and kissed him.

"Me too. But I know we can do this because we have each other."

Stephen nodded and tilted his head up to kiss you again, this time harder and then turned around putting you underneath him, his hips pushing his way between your legs, his face lost in the sea of your hair taking a deep breath and then kissing you again .

"You're like medicine to me, you know? It's incredible how you can make me feel better when I'm having a hard day. I was on the verge of a terrible migraine, but now I'm cured."

You held his face in your hands and smiled proudly "It's good to know that I have such power over the great Sorcerer Supreme."

He kissed you and lightly bit your lower lip "You have no idea" He said grounding his fast hardening cock against your core, which made you moan softly into his lips.

"Again?" You confirmed, watching him bring a hand between you. He rubbed himself a few times and then entered you again.

“Fuck yes.” He responded with a groan.

It seemed that the books had been long forgotten.

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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httpscomexe · 5 months ago

Text

No Way Home

Summary: After a stressful meeting with Peter Parker, you try to help Stephen Strange unwind a little.

Parings: Stephen Strange x Reader

Warnings: Spell use, language, No Way Home scenes (Actual Dialogue), Smut (Oral, p in v, unprotected, f on birth control), fingering, wound (no description), self deprecating jokes, choking, safe word, some aftercare, little fluff.

Word Count: 3989

“I’ve been practising magic for years, teaching you everything I know, and here we are.” you chuckle a little as Stephen sighs at your every comment.

“I asked Wong to cast the maintenance spell, he’s not the best listener.”

“Well Wong has more important duties as the sorcerer supreme.”

“He wouldn’t be the sorcerer supreme if I hadn’t blipped for 5 years.” The coffee machine made a bubbling sound as it filled the rest of his cup and he walked towards you. “I don’t really understand why they didn’t make you the sorcerer supreme.” He takes a sip of his coffee as he stares down at you,

“Because she tries escaping the sanctum. We all know she has very powerful that she can’t quite control yet and we need to keep her here until we know we can trust her.” Wong walks out of the kitchen, casting a portal and walking into it. “While I’m gone, you get babysitting duties.” You scoff, you know how to control your powers, you just choose not to listen to them.

“I don’t think she needs babysitting Wong.”

“Even if she doesn’t need it, she already follows you around like a puppy already anyways.”

“Yea I’ve noticed that…” He turns to look at you with his head tilted. “You have been clinging onto me like your life depends on it haven't you? Always by my side.” He smiles a little. You were surprised he’s only just now realizing it.

I only shrug.

“Well it’s cold down here, while you’re going back and forth between portals, Y/N and I are going upstairs where it's a little warmer.” He opens a portal to the upstairs, not wanting you to slip on the stairs… again…

“Alright. You keep an eye on that girl, she’s trouble.” Wong waves a finger and you smirk so he knows you’re already up to something as you all go through a portal.

“We are all in shock at this news today!” The lady on the TV talks and talks about everything boring as Stephen goes through some papers of research. “After this video was released from the now deceased Quentin Beck, also known as ‘Mysterio’ the entire world is shocked to see a teenage face under the famous ‘spiderman’ mask, a 17 year old Midtown high student named Peter Parker.” That’s not good.

“Oh boy.” You hear Stephen mumble behind you.

“How do you think he’s feeling about all of it” you stand up from the couch and walk towards Stephen who’s now looking at the TV as a clip from the video Mysterio recorded plays behind you.

“Well I’m sure he’s gonna find a way to make things worse. He’s on his way here right now actually.” He reaches to his right and his cape flies onto his back.

“How would you know that?”

“Y/N sweetie, I know everything.” He whispers softly into your ear, sending small butterflies through your belly as he walks past you and begins down the stairs. As you always do, you begin to follow behind him.

At the bottom of the stairs you hear a high pitched voice and Wong speaking back, and you see Stephen speaking as well. As you get halfway down the stairs, you see Peter Parker.

“The most famous person in the world, I know.” Wong enters through a portal, setting down several suitcases. “Wong.” He introduces himself quickly. “Try not to slip, we don’t have liability insurance.”

“Is all this for a holiday party?” You see Peter take a few steps forward, examining the sanctorum filled with snow and ice.

“No, one of the Rotunda gateways connects to Siberia. A blizzard blasted through.” Stephen leaves your side at the center of the staircase and floats down the steps with a coffee mug in his hands, slipping a little when he lands.

“Because someone forgot to cast the monthly maintenance spell to keep the seals tight.” He speaks as he reaches the last step.

“That’s right, he did, because he forgot I now have higher duties-”

“Higher duties?”

“The sorcerer supreme has higher duties, yes.”

“Wait, I thought you were the Sorcerer Supreme-” Peter breaks their conversation and Stephen looks back at him.

“No, he got it on a technicality cause I blipped for five years.”

“Oh.” He looks at Wong. “Well, congratulations.”

Stephen starts back up. “If I’d been here, then I would have-”

“Burned the whole place down.” Wong walks in front of Stephen. “You two! No one said ‘stop shoveling’”

“So, Peter. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Stephen begins to walk to the fireplace.

“Right umm… I’m really sorry to bother you, sir, but-”

“Please, we saved half the universe together, I think we’re beyond you calling me sir.” You started to walk down the stairs to them, smiling softly at Wong as he helped the two people shovel snow.

When you enter the room, you see Stephen lighting the fireplace with some magic.

“Okay, uh, Stephen-”

“That feels weird. But I’ll allow it.”

“Uh, when, um… when Mysterio revealed my identity, my entire life got screwed up.” You stood at the entrance, staring at the fireplace with Peters back to you as he spoke. “And, I was wondering… I mean, I don’t really know if this would actually work, but I was wondering if… maybe you could go back in time and make it so that he never did?”

“Peter, we tampered with the stability of spacetime to resurrect countless lives. You want to do it again now just cause yours got messy?”

“This isn’t- It’s not about me. I mean, this is really hurting a lot of people. My uh… my Aunt May. Happy. My best friend, my girlfriend… their futures are ruined. Just because they know me and they’ve… done… nothing… wrong…?” Peter pauses randomly as he finishes his sentence, you assume his spider sense is catching onto something so you use your own magic to summon some knives.

Suddenly, he quickly turns around and a string of white liquid shoots out at your left hand, sticking it to the table next to you.

“Y/N?!” Peter walks towards you when he realizes who it is. “Oh my God, I thought you were dead!” He gets closer and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Yea, hey Pete.” He hugs you tighter and you use your free hand so gently hug him back.

“Have you been here the whole time?” He finally pulls away from you, both of his hands gently rest on your shoulders. “Sorry I shot a web at your hand, I guess my spider sense still recognizes you as Black Bee.” (Your villain name) You took a deep breath when he said that name. You haven’t been Martyr for a long time. Just as Bucky hasn’t been The Winter Soldier for a long time, but yet you both still have to be locked up in separate places.

“Well that’s unfortunate isn’t it Peter?” you mumble and Peter lets go of you, easily ripping the web fluid off my hand. “Good thing I’m not anymore, or I swear I wouldn’t be stuck in the sanctum right now.” Peter looks down at you confused. Then he looks up at Stephen.

“Why isn’t she allowed to leave?”

“Because she’s not completely safe yet. Last time we tried bringing her to the store so she could get something for her drawings, she lashed out on a random civilian because they accidentally ran into her backside with their shopping cart.” He sighs and looks at you. You were smiling, clearly proud of yourself. “You should’ve seen the look of fear on that poor womans face as Y/n-”

“Okay, I think you and Peter were talking about something more important before he almost attacked me, Strange.” you cut him off, not wanting to relive the embarrassing memory.

“Right, I am so sorry Peter, but even if I wanted to… I don’t have the Time Stone Anymore.” Strange drops the subject quickly and refocuses on Peter.

“That’s right.” He groans a little. “I’m really sorry if I wasted your time.”

“No, you didn’t-”

“Forget about it.” Behind you, Wong picks up his suitcases and joins the conversation again.

“Oh, he will. He’s very good at forgetting things.”

“Wong, you've actually generated a good idea…”

“What?”

“The Runes of Kof-Kol?” Peter looked at Strange questionably.

“The Runes of Kof-Kol?”

“Oh, it’s just a standard spell of forgetting. It won’t turn back time, but at least people will forget that you were ever Spider-Man.”

“Seriously? That would be-” Your heart beated quickly when Peter's interest rose in Kof-Kol. You and Wong both spoke at the same time.

“No, not seriously!” Wong turns from you to Strange. “That spell travels the dark borders between known and unknown reality. It’s too dangerous.”

“We’ve used it for a lot less. Do you remember the full moon party at Kamar-Taj?”

“No…?”

“Exactly.” Strange waits for a moment before speaking again. He doesn’t even bother addressing you since you weren’t anywhere near being allowed to tell him no. “Come on. Wong… hasn’t he been through enough?”

You watch as Wong's face softens, behind him, another portal opens to Kamar-Taj. “Just leave me out of this.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.” Wong enters the portal and it closes quickly behind him. Then Strange turns to Peter and has a friendly grin on his face.

The scene in the ancient chamber plays. Strange attempts to cast the spell, Peter keeps changing it mid spell, Strange gets mad at Peter.

Upstairs, everything starts shaking and you look over as a relic falls apart when one of the apprentices tries to hold onto it for support. You quickly make your way down to make sure everything is alright.

“Did it work?” Your voice shook as you looked around and saw Strange visibly angered.

“No. He changed my spell six times-”

“Five times.” You both looked over at Peter who now looked nervous again.

“You changed my spell! You don’t do that! I told you-” He looks at the trapped spell in the centre of the room. “And that is why!” You all look towards the orb with the tiny spell inside. “That spell was completely out of control. If I hadn’t shut it down, something catastrophic could have happened!”

“Stephen, listen, I am so sorry-”

“Call me sir”

Everything is quiet for a moment as you watch the exchange, already developing a way to talk to Strange who you felt was being way too hard on Peter.

“Sorry, sir…” Peter mumbled.

“You know, after everything we’ve been through together, somehow I always forget you’re… you’re just a kid.” You watch as Peter looks down, clearly feeling ashamed of himself. “Look, Parker.” His tone softens. “The problem is not Mysterio. It’s you.” You shoot Strange a daring look, he knows he’s already pressing too far on Peter. “Trying to live two different lives, and the longer you do that the more dangerous it becomes, believe me.” He pauses for a moment. “I’m so sorry about you and your friends not getting into college. But if they rejected you, and you tried to convince them to reconsider, there’s nothing else you can do.” We all stand in silence for a moment and we watch as Peter's face changes slightly.

“When you say “Convince them” you mean like I could have called them?”

“Yea.”

“I can do that?”

“You haven’t called the-”

“Well I mean, I got their letter and I assumed that that was-” You finally cut in.

“I’m sorry, are you telling us that you didn’t think to call and plead your case with them first before you asked Strange to brainwash the entire world?” you asked him more calmly than Strange would have.

“Well, I mean, when you put it like that, then-”

“I can’t believe that kid. He’s fought a giant purple goblin and he can’t think of calling a college and talking to them for reconsideration?” He speaks angrily and you follow him into his room.

“You know, I think I might be able to get into the college if I applied.” You watch as he sits on the edge of his bed. “I mean, I’m basically also twenty-three just like Peter, just a bit more complicated.”

“Complicated because you were frozen in ice at 12, then blipped at 17?”

“Yea complicated because of that.” You put your knees on his bed and make your way behind him. “But you’re way too hard on him, you’re hard on me too.”

“Not as hard on you as I am on him though, I could never yell at you.” You sit up on your knees and place both of your hands on his shoulders, starting to gently massage his muscles.

“You’ve yelled at me plenty of times before Mr. Strange.” you whisper close to his ear and continue to massage him.

“Yes but that was before we all fought a giant grape.” He sighs a little and tilts his head slightly to the side, taking a deep breath as your hands begin to relax his muscles. “And if I can remember clearly, you used your powers to heal Stark. And you also used your powers to find Thanos.” He leans back a little against your front. “Tell me, if it wasn’t your dad who used the glove, if it was someone else like Clint or Scott, would you still have used your powers to save them?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well because when you use your Saint, you're taking the pain out of their body and putting it into your own body, and you also move their wounds from theirs to yours.”

“Well, I still would’ve Sainted them. Maybe not you though.” You giggle a little as he turns around and grabs you by the waist.

“Oh really?” You reach down to try pulling his hands off of your waist, laying back as he presses forward on top of you.

“No of course not really.” You laugh as he lays on top of you with one of his knees between your thighs. “You should consider telling Fury that it’s safe for me to leave. I know how to control my powers…”

“Yea, you do, but the second you leave the Sanctum I won’t be able to find you again unless you come to find me for something.” He moves until he's stradling your legs, one of his hands is pressed onto your lower abdomen, and his other hand rests on his thigh as he sits back on his heels.

“Well yea, I like to have my freedom.” You sigh a little as he leans down slowly and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, making you smile softly.

“You have your freedom as long as you’re by my side.” He gently moves his hand down to the end of your shirt and slowly glides his hand carefully over your stomach. “You know.” His voice drops to a whisper as he pauses for a moment and runs his hand over your smooth skin. “You were 17 during the blip… does that make it still wrong for me to touch you? Or will you consider yourself to be twenty three for me?” He grins as he leans down again, his lips gently brushing against your cheek and gently trailing along your jaw and neck.

“I can be twenty three for now… If you want.” You feel your body heating up and you’re sure he could smell you.

“You smell so sweet…” He mumbles as he leans back to press kisses to your stomach and thighs.

Thanks to your powers and the way you were built, when you're turned on, people can smell your arousal no matter how heightened their senses are.

you could feel his tongue slowly trail wet licks between your thighs. His large hands caressing your thighs and gently moving up to grab your hips.

“You look so beautiful…” He lays one more kiss to your stomach as he leans back up and connects his lips to yours in a long kiss. You reach up to wrap your arms around the back of his neck, keeping him close as he wraps one of his arms around the back of your waist to lift your body against his.

“You know you’re really pretty too…?” You whisper softly with a quiet laugh as he chuckles and lays more kisses to your neck, making you involuntarily arch your back up to get closer to him. Now you could really feel your body heating up. Your lips part slightly as you start to breathe more heavily, and he admired your breasts move slightly as your chest moved up and down. You blush when you see him lick his bottom lip like a starved lion and you were his prey.

“Are you feeling any better? Or do I still have to wait…” You look down a little as you watch him run his hand down to where you were stabbed while fighting Thanos.

“I think I’ll be fine, just be careful if you grab my waist.” With that, he wraps both arms behind your back and moves you until we’re both lying on the bed.

“Remind me of our safeword, my rose…” He speaks softly as he begins to unbutton your blouse and skirt.

“Jumanji.”

“We really need to work on your safeword…” As soon as he finishes speaking, you feel something wrap around your wrists and you look up to see a string of his orange magic attach both of your wrists to the bed.

Fuck

He admired how you looked. Strapped down on his bed as he towered over you.

“You are so fucking perfect you know that?” He growls a little as he grinds against your thigh, his hard length making you whimper a little.

“You don’t have to sweet talk me to turn me on you know…”

“I’m just speaking the truth.”

“That’s not the truth.” He reaches up and grabs onto your chin almost painfully and forces you to look into his eyes.

“Y/N.” His voice was daring. “You’re beautiful and if you ever start to think otherwise, I swear I’ll fuck you until you can’t even comprehend what the word ugly even means. I’ll have you screaming my name and telling you how beautiful you are then when you finally believe I’ll bend you over until you apologise for ever believing you’re not.” He stares into your eyes a moment longer before pressing a rough kiss to your lips.

You kissed for what felt like hours, and honestly you wished it had never stopped.

When he felt your legs open from under him, he couldn’t resist touching you. His hand slid down until he could feel your sensitive skin. “Fuck” He mumbled as he began to rub over your clit with his fingers, making your hips buck up in response.

“Please…” She breathes quietly as his fingers spread her lips, playing with your clit as you continue to buck against his hand, a quiet moan escaping your lips as he leans down, removes your panties, and roughly brings his tongue down to lick you from your opening to your clit. Repeating the movement two more times before diving his tongue into you, tasting your sweet hole.

“You always taste so fucking good…” He begins to lean back up your body, rubbing the bulge in his pants against your thigh before running his hand down and rubbing your clit again, teasing your entrance with one of his fingers before pushing two of his fingers into your hole. “Fucking perfect…” He curls his fingers to perfectly hit that spot inside of you that drives you wild while his thumb runs rough circles over your clit.

He began to plunge his two fingers in and out of you, causing you to moan in pleasure.

You began to moan more wildly as his movements became more urgent and you felt a familiar heat rise inside of your lower stomach.

The more you moved, the more he struggled to keep you still. He leans up a little, placing his free hand on your hip to hold you down as he adds a finger to your tight hole. “Cum for me little rose… cum on my fingers like a good girl…” His voice makes your head go foggy and your eyes flutter. You throbbed as you felt the pleasure course through you, rushing through you like a waterfall, and you whined at the feeling of his fingers leaving your hole. Making you lay there in breathy moans.

You watch as he brings his finger up to his lips and licks your arousal off his fingers, then he leans his face over yours, pressing a gently kiss to your temple, then pulling back and resting his hand over your throat before pressing down with his weight onto your throat, making you gasp. “Open.” He demands.

As you open your mouth, he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your bottom lip, then leans back to spit into your mouth, moving a little with one of his hands still circling your throat and his other hand gently resting on your waist. “Swallow.”

And you did.

As much as you hated it when people saw you as vulnerable and weak, you swallow his spit. “Good girl..” He growls as he finally positions himself between your legs and you whine as you feel the tip of his cock against your hole, before slowly pushing himself inside of you. Stay quiet, he doesn’t like it when you’re loud during the day.

“Stay quiet…” He growls quietly into your ear before beginning to slowly move inside of you, easily brushing himself against your G-spot everytime he moves, making you arch your back off the bed, begging for more movement as you moan quietly.

“Shhh… M’not goin n’y faster n’til I know y’can take me slow…” He mumbles, continuing to move slowly inside of you, being careful not to grip your waist where you had been hurt.

After you stayed quiet for a few moments, he began to move more quickly, pulling out before slamming back into you.

“Fuck you’re so perfect…” He gently grabbed onto your hip with one hand, and squeezed your throat tighten with his other hand, making your moans become more desperate.

Suddenly you feel warm, and your body starts to shake as you feel yourself come close to another orgasm.

“Fuck, rosey, you feel so good… cum on my cock…” He squeezes your throat tighter, making you gasp a little for air. “Fuck, please tell me you’re still on birth control…” He leans up a little, releasing your throat and pressing both of his hands flat onto your waist, causing a wave of pain to shoot through your body as he accidentally presses his palm onto your wound, but it quickly numbs as it’s mixed with the next orgasm that tears through your body and you feel a warm liquid fill your hole as he carefully pulls out.

“Fuck I’m sorry if that hurt…” He gently runs his hand over the large bandage covering your wound.

“M’ okay…” You mumble. “M’ okay…”

“Okay.” He leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, then he stands up off the bed and walks into the bathroom, coming back out with a warm towel.

With the wave of his hand, the magic that was restraining your wrists disappears and he kneels next to you on the bed, gently cleaning both of your liquids off your thighs.

“You know, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let you go Y/N” He finishes cleaning the mess and watches as you sit up.

“I don’t mind never leaving…” You mumble. He leans forward and presses a gentle kiss on your lips, you smile and kiss him back.

“I love you, rose bud…”

“Love you too…”

#marvel #marvel smut #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #smut #x reader #stephen strange #doctor strange #strange #strange x reader #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange x reader #I had to fix this #theres a possibility that you've read this before #no its not deju vu

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shanastoryteller · 2 years ago

Note

Happy V-Day!!

More Merlin please?

a continuation of 1 2 3

After several questions about the state of Camelot, and receiving confirmation that the castle's former potions master is still here, Ygraine glares at Uther and says, "It seems I'll have to clean up your mess. As usual," before turning on her heel and heading for the stairway.

She pauses, looking back, and says, "Son, come with me."

She doesn't know Arthur's name.

Before Merlin can feel too many ways about that, Arthur is stepping forward and Merlin finds himself following behind because that's what he always does and it's too late to not do it this time.

As soon as Arthur is close enough, Ygraine slips her arm through his as they descend the stairs. "I'm sorry, this must be such a shock to you."

He's silent for a moment, because what on earth is he supposed to say to that, but then Arthur replies, "For you too."

She waves a dismissive hand. "This isn't about me."

Merlin thinks it very much is, but he at least has enough sense not to say that.

Arthur still hasn't come up with a reply by the time they make it to Gaius's rooms. Merlin thinks about shouting out some sort of warning, but before he gets the chance, Ygrain kicks the door open and shouts, "GAIUS! WHERE ARE ALL THE WIZARDS?"

Gaius is standing right there, so no one needed to yell, and he blinks rapidly for several seconds and then says uncertainly, "Your majesty?"

"There are no wizards in Camelot," Arthur says.

Merlin cringes.

Ygraine scoffs. "This is Camelot. Our very land is magic. If there are no sorcerers, she will make them. Killing magic - what shit. He'd have been better off trying to kill sunshine."

"You majesty," Gaius repeats, a tone of respect and ardor Merlin has never heard him have when addressing the king. He goes into a low bow and starts to get on his knees.

"None of that, we don't have time for it," she says, impatiently yanking him upright. "I have to go back to my own time otherwise this land will have no prince, which means I need a sorcerer powerful enough to bend time. Where can I find one?"

Gaius says, "Ah," and then, "Let me consult my old contacts."

He's so screwed.

Ygraine rolls her eyes, easily reading that Gaius is trying to put her off, but says, "Alright, Gaius. That gives me some time to get to know my son."

"Arthur," Merlin says, unable to take it anymore. Everyone looks at him and he swallows before saying, "His name is Arthur."

Ygraine softens, reaching up to run her hand through Arthur's hair. He leans into the touch, he eyes briefly falling closed.

"Arthur," she repeats warmly.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #merlin

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lily-onher-grave · 19 days ago

Text

anyway wicked movie round three thoughts

i tried to pay more attention to musical motifs this time around and there are so many gut punches i was sitting there going oh fuck this over and over again. i can't wait to spend the next five years watching music analyses of this soundtrack i swear to god

i won't talk about sad glinda and the effigy again but i will talk about how glinda doesn't even look scared once she says elphaba was her friend. she's so immediately lost in the memories and her wistful smile as we start the flashback is e v e r y t h i n g

if you think ariana and cynthia crying through the entire press tour is ridiculous wait 'til you hear about me crying at the damn fish during the transition to shiz. it's just so magical okay! and glinda is so excited! and it makes me think of how hard book glinda worked to get to shiz, and idk man i just got swept away by the wonder and charm of a magic university alright god

idk how popular/unpopular an opinion this is but i have such a soft spot for dear old shiz and i love that how it plays in the dormitories, it's so sweet

also i finally noticed the time dragon clock this time around

(also fine yes bowen yang's pfannee is the perfect crope/tibbett when he's not being a mean girl. fuck i miss crope and tibbett)

((i need bookverse ideas so i can write crope and tibbett again))

i love the touch of glinda being like no, no way to pfannee and shenshen about the hat but then when elphaba shows up glinda specifically looks down at her sorcery books before deciding to give it to her. i love that silent tipping point in her decision

at the ozdust glinda says it's her heart's desire to become a sorcerer. elphaba giving glinda her heart's desire the way the wizard is supposed to (and not just now, but presumably i part two as well when she gives her the grimmerie)

the poppy in nessa's hair the day elphaba brings a bouquet to class for dr dillamond (fiyero and glinda have flowers on their desks too which is just so sweet)

((also i do love glinda and elphaba arguing about the way dillamond says glinda as they walk to their seats. it's so silly it's so real. i would watch 3 hours of shiz shenanigans i swear))

when jeff goldblum walked out from behind the wizard's head a woman in the theater went "oh!" and tbh it was the perfect little addition to that scene. give that random theatergoer an oscar

if elphaba had said her heart's desire was to not be green i think the wizard would have pulled out a non-green doll and given it to her and that would've been the scene

hey do you guys think they're gonna change the lyrics of wonderful in part two to address the fact that glinda is the one who chose the yellow brick road?

(my other theory about part two right now is that the opening is going to be very different. i really just dont' think you can open a movie with thank goodness and have it hit. idk what they'll do but there needs to be some sort of buffer)

also i think this movie has made me a fan of sentimental man. it's just so charming! like elphaba, i am not immune to a sweet little number about home and family and a sense of belonging

it's been said before but the betrayal scene in the palace truly is everything. elphaba is so hurt by it all. morrible's actions really do sting in this one (and michelle yeoh, hoooly hell, the switch from warm headmistress to intimidating head sorceress is so good)

idk man. it's just nice to know that i'll never be over this movie i think. after spending like 8 years building up unrealistic expectations about it i was still surprised and amazed and tbh 2024 has been so freaking disappointing, it's nice to know that this one thing was as close to perfect as it could have been (imo)

#wicked movie #wicked movie spoilers #i wasn't intending to write fic when i got home but uhhh. the night's still young. goodness knows what'll happen

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draconeye45 · 15 days ago

Text

sketches for a Wakko's wish au that's bouncing around in my head.

(street orphan Yakko, the Wraith, the Black Knight, post ending King William. and me toying with drawing Warners with hair - with the boys i like to think the fur tufts between their ears can grow longer like hair. Colored the William sketch a bit to show that he has some gray hair by the end of the au)

Gonna try and summarize what i've got so far below, if anyone's interested XD V

The long and short of it- Salazaar is a sorcerer in this, and uses dark magic to invade. He captures William and Angelina, tells the kingdom that they are dead. Soon after, creatures known as the Wraith and the Black Knight appear, who he uses as his most feared generals and enforcers.

while trying to get his siblings out of the kingdom, seven year old Yakko gets separated from them and suffers a head injury that gives him amnesia. A loyalist sworn to the Warner family line finds Wakko and Dot, but isn't willing to risk losing them by staying in Warnerstock and looking for Yakko. He smuggles the younger siblings out of the kingdom to safety.

Yakko is left behind, but goes unrecognized due to being a seemingly random orphan, with no siblings in sight. He's eventually convinced by a underground resistance force to lead them against Salazaar - the resistance members fully believe he is the eldest prince, though due to his amnesia Yakko doesn't believe them. But due to hating Salazaar he accepts anyway.

Wakko and Dot eventually return to help the resistance, and reunite with Yakko, though to their dismay he can't seem to remember them. At first, though eventually Yakko’s memory does come back. They take the final fight to Salazaar.

If you made it to the end of this, tell me what you think XD

#animaniacs #animanics 2020 #animaniacs fanart #animaniacs 1993 #art #fanart #digital art #yakko warner #scetch #doodle #brainstorming #animaniacs au #wakko's wish

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oblivionbladetd · 2 months ago

Note

Lily/Lorch’s video on Media Literacy is a lot to unpack, so I’m just going to start with the most important part —

She honestly believes that having a point is the exact same thing as being objectively correct, and that’s why villains can never have a point and still be villains in her eyes.

Do I even need to tell you how ignorant and dangerous this kind of mindset is?

Please explain to the youngsters in the audience why she’s utterly wrong in this belief.

I could preach ethics all day long, but who's to say mine are the same as yours? Or anybody else's?

If we want objectively correct, then we can just look at Ultron or Thanos. Statistically speaking, we will never know true, lasting peace. Also, statistically speaking, half our population just up and disappeared in an instant. As long as we can pull the inevitable socioeconomic collapse out of a 90-degree nosedive, it's still a net positive. The only problems they had were that for Ultron, it's that the save humanity by killing humanity is not exactly great for humanity. the world indeed probably would be better without us, but i will not be made to apologize for having a sense of self-preservation.... And with Thanos, the sticking point really is that when you are playing with true infinite, there are actually limitless better options than his initial one.

There are indeed a lot of problems if you just throw ethics to the wind and live in a world where the ends justify the means 100% of the time. Indeed, a lot of the greatest tragedies of human history are statistical non-issues, objectively unimportant. If the ends justify the means, then I guess eugenics and mass culling are hunky dory as well. It's logic that has already been used to justify horrible acts all around the globe from times modern to ancient.

If she wasn't just moving the goalposts in a stupid vendetta against a bunch of cheeky goobers, most villains have points. It's just good character writing. Outside of captain planet ass villains, nobody really sees themselves as a villain. There is a point to their cruelty, not always a great one, but a point nonetheless.

Let me tell you about a guy named Xykon for a webcomic called Order of the Stick. One of the protagonists, V, gets a humongous expansion to their spell list in a soul splice and fuck all else, full of bravado after nuking a dragon with a large amount of epic level spells gets it in their head the big bad ain't shit. After a brief bout of figuring out that hitting a spellcaster with far more practical experience and, more importantly, levels is easier said than done along with running a concentration based buff with a con of 6 means your epic super wizard transformation is good for all of three sturdy slaps being kinda ill advised. Proceeds to hit him with the single greatest speech in dnd fiction on how impermanent power is nothing and that whatever power you do have doesn't matter as long as you actually have it, proving it by showing that even the hail Mary of instant invisibility is nothing with little more than a higher than average spacial awareness and enough strength in their fleshless hands to crush a windpipe. Imagine being so outclassed an undead sorcerer that literally has magic imbued in his very bones switches to standard knuckle tossing just to put things in the ballpark of fair...

He has a good point and is very evil. Unapologetically so. If you are willing to let your mind explore and try to see through eyes that aren't yours, you will discover perspectives that will only ever enhance your understanding of the world. Hell, the very fact that there are war crimes is a widespread understanding that the only appreciable difference between the infantry of one country and another is a set of beliefs that might not survive the first time a soldier realizes he was a single inch away from being a corpse, so adding prolonged suffering is just needlessly cruel.

Hell, I'd welcome it as an open challenge to defend any villain as having a point because, again, short of stuff like has eaten bad vibes soup (chase young) or simply being a ancient force of nature. The list of bad guys that just are with zero explanation or justification is not as long as you'd think.

#lily orchard #lily peet #lily orchard is a bad critic #lily orchard is a bad writer

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amethystarachnid · 12 days ago

Note

hello! i was wondering if i could request trope 20, Christmas Eve Confessions? Could it be Dr Strange x Fem Reader? (if you don’t write for Dr Strange you could message me and i’ll request a different character :3)

maybe it could go something like this, the both of them are sorcerers/wizards and they’re helping each other out around the Sanctum kinda prepping for Christmas, decorations, peoples gifts, and making sure they’ll be no disturbances and such. and once they’re finally sharing a comfortable silence that’s when the both of them are debating if they should confess. The Reader is a tad bit shy and soft spoken, but she’s almost willing to push it aside so she could confess to him, unless Dr Strange does it first of course 👀

any other additional details are up to you! and if you have any questions feel free to message me! (also message me if the request goes through because my internet is slow right now so i’m not sure if it would go through- and i apologize if it sends twice-) have a lovely day!

A SORCERER'S CHRISTMAS

⤷ STEPHEN V. STRANGE

ᯓ★ Pairing: Stephen V. Strange x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday special

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 6.1k

ᯓ★ Summary: what the ask said <3

ᯓ★ TW(s): just fluff

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The Sanctum Sanctorum hums with its usual mystical energy, though the chill of December seeps even through its enchanted walls. You wrap your arms around yourself briefly, taking a deep breath as you glance at the myriad of boxes Stephen set down in the grand foyer. Decorations spill from the lids—strings of lights, ornaments with faint magical glows, and garlands that shimmer as if imbued with life.

Stephen stands a few feet away, surveying the task ahead with a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I didn’t think this place could feel any stranger, but now it’s about to look like a department store window.” His tone is teasing, but there’s a warmth in his gaze as it flicks over to you.

You can’t help but chuckle. “Well, if you hadn’t insisted on helping, it wouldn’t look as good as I know it will.” You crouch down to untangle a set of enchanted fairy lights. “Besides, I think it’s nice. Even a sorcerer’s sanctum can use a little holiday spirit.”

He raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms, his cloak shifting slightly with the movement. “Holiday spirit, huh? You mean a chaotic explosion of tinsel and glitter?”

You tilt your head at him, feigning an exaggerated pout. “Chaos is kind of your thing, Doctor Strange.”

The faint laugh he lets out is enough to send warmth spreading through you, and you quickly return your focus to the lights, hoping he doesn’t notice the slight flush creeping up your cheeks. The two of you fall into a steady rhythm, working in companionable silence to transform the Sanctum’s imposing, ancient halls into something that feels…cozy.

You take a garland and weave it along the staircase banister, pausing to let Stephen levitate an oversized wreath into place above the main doorway. His hands move with practiced precision, the faint blue glow of his magic illuminating the sharp lines of his face. You force yourself to look away before he catches you staring.

“Are you sure Wong won’t think this is ridiculous?” he asks, glancing over at you. “He’s not exactly one for frivolity.”

You grin. “Wong secretly loves Christmas. Trust me, I’ve seen him humming carols when he thinks no one’s listening.”

Stephen chuckles at that, shaking his head as he steps down from his spell-induced hover. “I’ll take your word for it.”

For a moment, the two of you stand side by side, surveying your progress. The decorations transform the space into something almost otherworldly—a reflection of the magic that permeates every corner of the Sanctum but with an added layer of warmth and light. The fairy lights you strung along the walls twinkle like stars, and the faint scent of pine from the garlands fills the air.

“It’s…nice,” Stephen admits, his voice softer now. “You were right.”

You glance up at him, startled by the gentleness in his tone. He’s looking at the decorations, but there’s a thoughtful expression on his face, as if he’s seeing something beyond them. You want to ask what he’s thinking, but before you can, he gestures to the towering box of ornaments near your feet.

“Let’s get those on the tree before you start gloating.”

You laugh, grabbing a handful of shimmering baubles. “I would never gloat. I’m too humble for that.”

“Uh-huh,” he says, arching a skeptical brow as he levitates a particularly ornate ornament to one of the higher branches of the tree. “Remind me of that the next time you beat me at a spell duel.”

You roll your eyes, fighting back a grin. “That only happened once.”

“Twice,” he corrects, his voice tinged with amusement. “Though I’ll admit, you’re a quick learner.”

The compliment catches you off guard, and you falter for a moment, nearly dropping the ornament in your hand. Stephen doesn’t seem to notice, his attention already shifting back to the tree. You exhale softly, reminding yourself to keep your composure.

The hours slip by as the two of you work, the Sanctum gradually transforming into a festive haven. There’s an ease between you, a rhythm to your movements as you pass decorations back and forth and exchange quips. Every so often, your hands brush, and each time it sends a jolt through you, though you quickly disguise it with a joke or a question about where to hang something.

When the last ornament is placed and the final string of lights is hung, you step back, hands on your hips, and take in the sight. The Sanctum has never looked so warm, so inviting. Even Stephen seems impressed, his usual stoicism giving way to a small, genuine smile.

“Not bad,” he says, glancing over at you. “For a department store window, anyway.”

You laugh, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “Admit it, you like it.”

He doesn’t deny it, and that alone is enough to make your heart skip a beat.

The two of you settle into a rare moment of stillness, standing side by side in the softly lit foyer. The tree glows with an almost ethereal light, and the faint hum of magic mingles with the warmth of the decorations. It feels…peaceful.

Stephen clears his throat, breaking the silence. “Do you think it’ll stay like this? Quiet, I mean.”

You glance at him, surprised by the question. “Are you worried?”

He hesitates, his gaze fixed on the tree. “Not worried. Just…mindful. The holidays have a way of bringing out unexpected…disturbances.”

You nod, understanding what he means. The two of you have seen enough to know that peace is often fleeting, especially for sorcerers. Still, you can’t help but hope that this moment—this rare, quiet moment—will last.

“We’ve done what we can,” you say softly. “If anything happens, we’ll handle it like we always do.”

He looks at you then, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you think he’s about to say something, but instead, he nods and turns away, his cloak swirling behind him.

As he moves to adjust one of the garlands, you feel a pang of something you can’t quite name. There’s a weight between you, something unspoken that lingers in the air. You’ve felt it before, in the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention, in the moments of quiet understanding that pass between you. But neither of you has dared to give it a name.

You watch him for a moment longer, your heart pounding in your chest. Maybe one day, you think. Maybe one day, you’ll find the courage to say what you’ve been holding back for so long. But for now, you let the silence settle around you, comfortable and familiar, as the warmth of the season wraps around you both.

The smell of cinnamon and pine fills the air as you haul another stack of gifts into the study. Stephen’s already there, sitting cross-legged on the floor, a roll of wrapping paper unspooled haphazardly beside him. His cloak drapes itself across a nearby chair, looking vaguely irritated—if such a thing were possible—as it flicks at a stray piece of ribbon that’s landed on its edge.

“You realize we could finish this in about five minutes if we just used a simple spell,” Stephen says without looking up, his tone tinged with exasperation. “One flick of the wrist, and we’re done.”

You drop the stack onto the rug with a dramatic sigh and cross your arms. “And where’s the fun in that? Christmas is about tradition. You can’t cheat your way through wrapping presents.”

He raises an eyebrow, finally glancing up at you. “It’s not cheating. It’s efficiency. There’s a difference.”

“It’s soulless, Strange.” You plop down beside him, grabbing a roll of paper and a pair of scissors. “Besides, it’ll be good for you. You could use some practice with non-magical problem-solving.”

He lets out a quiet laugh, and the sound sends a little flutter through your chest. “Is this your way of saying my practical skills are lacking?”

“I’m just saying,” you reply with a grin, cutting an uneven square of paper. “I’ve seen you fight interdimensional demons with more grace than you handle a pair of scissors.”

“They’re slippery,” he mutters defensively, reaching for another box. His fingers brush against yours for the briefest moment, and you feel a spark that has nothing to do with magic. He pulls back quickly, his expression unreadable, and you force yourself to focus on the task at hand.

The two of you fall into a rhythm, albeit a slightly chaotic one. Stephen’s initial attempts at wrapping are, predictably, a disaster. His folds are uneven, his tape placement haphazard, and at one point, he accidentally cuts through the paper with a flick of his wrist that’s just a little too precise. You’re torn between laughing and feeling bad for him, especially when he holds up his first wrapped gift and it looks more like a crumpled piece of origami than a present.

“Wow,” you tease, biting back a laugh. “Truly a masterpiece. I’m sure Wong will treasure it forever.”

Stephen narrows his eyes at you, though there’s a glimmer of amusement there too. “You’re awfully smug for someone who just cut a piece of paper too small to cover the box.”

You glance down at your own handiwork and groan. “Okay, fine. Maybe we’re both terrible at this.”

He chuckles, leaning back on his hands. “Let’s just agree to blame the tools and not ourselves.”

The banter makes the task feel less like a chore and more like a game. You take turns critiquing each other’s wrapping techniques, and at one point, you start a mock competition to see who can create the neatest package. Stephen, ever the perfectionist, actually starts improving, his movements growing more deliberate as he folds and tapes. You, on the other hand, get distracted watching him. There’s something oddly endearing about seeing the usually poised and composed Doctor Strange frown in concentration over a roll of tape.

“You’re staring,” he says without looking up, his tone casual but tinged with something you can’t quite place.

You blink, startled. “No, I’m not.”

He glances at you then, one eyebrow raised in that infuriatingly knowing way of his. “Right. Must be my imagination.”

You open your mouth to retort but close it again when you realize you don’t have a good comeback. Instead, you grab a bow and toss it at him, grinning when it lands squarely on his head. “There. Much better.”

Stephen doesn’t react immediately. He just sits there, the bow perched lopsidedly on his dark hair, and stares at you. For a moment, you think you’ve crossed some invisible line, but then he breaks into a rare, full smile—the kind that makes your chest feel like it’s simultaneously floating and caving in.

“Careful,” he says, his voice softer now. “I might start thinking you actually enjoy my company.”

You laugh, though it comes out a little breathless. “Don’t let it go to your head, Strange.”

The two of you continue working, the pile of wrapped gifts slowly growing as the evening stretches on. The study is warm and quiet, the only sounds the occasional snip of scissors or rustle of paper. Outside, snow begins to fall, the flakes drifting lazily past the tall windows. It’s peaceful in a way that feels almost unreal, as if the rest of the world has faded away, leaving only this moment.

As you finish tying a ribbon around the last box, you glance over at Stephen. He’s sitting cross-legged again, his hands resting on his knees as he watches the snow. There’s a faraway look in his eyes, and for a moment, you wonder what he’s thinking.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you ask softly.

He turns to you, his expression shifting into something more guarded. “Just...thinking about how different this feels. The holidays, I mean. I’m not used to it being so...quiet.”

You nod, understanding. “It’s nice, though. Isn’t it?”

“It is,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze lingers on you for a moment, and you feel your heart skip a beat. There’s something in his eyes that makes you want to reach out, to close the space between you, but you’re too afraid to break the fragile balance of whatever this is.

Instead, you clear your throat and gesture to the now-complete pile of gifts. “Well, mission accomplished. No magic required.”

Stephen’s lips quirk into a small smile. “You were right. It does feel more...personal this way.”

“Told you so.” You grin, leaning back on your hands. “Though I’m pretty sure Wong’s going to think we’ve lost our minds when he sees how much tape we used.”

He laughs, and the sound warms you in a way that has nothing to do with the crackling fire in the hearth. The two of you sit there for a while, the silence between you no longer heavy but comfortable, like an old blanket.

“You know,” Stephen says after a while, his tone contemplative, “you’re...good at this.”

“At what? Wrapping gifts?” you ask, feigning confusion.

“At making things feel...” He pauses, searching for the right word. “Normal. Like they used to.”

Your chest tightens at the quiet vulnerability in his voice. You want to tell him that he does the same for you, that even in the chaos of magic and otherworldly threats, he’s been your anchor. But the words stick in your throat, too big and too fragile to say out loud.

Instead, you nudge him lightly with your shoulder and offer a small smile. “Guess that makes us a good team, huh?”

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and for a moment, you feel like you’re the only two people in the world. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “We are.”

The moment stretches, and you can’t tell if it’s your imagination or if he’s leaning just a little closer. Your heart pounds in your chest, and you wonder if now—finally—might be the time to say what you’ve been holding back for so long. But before either of you can speak, the sound of Wong clearing his throat echoes from the doorway.

“I see you two have been busy,” he says, his tone neutral but his expression amused as he takes in the pile of gifts and the bits of ribbon and paper scattered across the floor.

Stephen straightens quickly, his usual composure snapping back into place. “Just...wrapping some gifts.”

“Without magic?” Wong raises an eyebrow. “Impressive.”

You laugh, standing up and brushing off your hands. “It’s called holiday spirit. You should try it sometime.”

Wong snorts but doesn’t argue. As he turns to leave, he throws a pointed look over his shoulder. “Don’t stay up too late. You’ll need your energy if something decides to interrupt our peaceful holiday.”

Once he’s gone, you glance at Stephen, who’s still sitting on the floor, his expression unreadable. You hesitate, wondering if the moment you shared has passed for good. But then he looks up at you, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Thanks for insisting we do it this way,” he says, his voice soft. “It...meant something.”

Your heart swells at his words, and you return his smile, feeling a warmth that has nothing to do with the firelight. “Anytime, Strange. Anytime.”

The morning after your gift-wrapping escapade, the peaceful atmosphere of the Sanctum Sanctorum has shifted. A storm brews outside, snow falling in wild, sideways sheets against the towering windows. You sit in the study, surrounded by a growing mess of Christmas supplies, as you try to make sense of a particularly unruly strand of lights. It’s supposed to blink in a specific pattern but instead flashes like it’s trying to communicate with an alien civilization.

Stephen walks in, his usual air of calm composure noticeably absent. His cloak flutters behind him like it’s agitated, and his expression is tense. You glance up, immediately sensing that something is off.

“Morning,” you say cautiously, testing the waters. “Coffee hasn’t magically brewed itself, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

He doesn’t respond to the joke, which sets off alarm bells. Stephen always has a quip, even when he’s in a mood. Instead, he crosses the room and sits heavily in the chair across from you, running a hand through his dark hair.

“What happened?” you ask, setting the tangled lights aside.

“There’s… been a complication,” he says, his voice tight.

“Complication,” you repeat, leaning forward. “As in apocalyptic complication? Portal-to-another-dimension complication?”

“No,” he says sharply, and then, more quietly, “Not yet. Just… something I need to deal with.”

You study him for a moment. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He shakes his head, avoiding your gaze. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

That stings more than you’d like to admit. You’ve faced down countless threats together, stood by his side when the odds were stacked against you both. And now he’s shutting you out? The hurt bubbles to the surface before you can stop it.

“Right,” you say, your voice colder than you intended. “Nothing I need to worry about. Got it.”

His head snaps up, and for a moment, you see a flicker of regret in his eyes. But it’s gone just as quickly, replaced by the guarded expression he wears like armor. “That’s not what I meant.”

“No?” You stand, the tangled lights dropping to the floor. “Because it sure sounds like you’re saying I’m not capable of handling whatever’s going on.”

Stephen sighs, standing as well. He towers over you, his frustration evident. “This isn’t about capability. It’s about protecting you.”

“Protecting me?” You let out a humorless laugh. “Stephen, do you even hear yourself? I’m not some civilian who stumbled into this world by accident. I’m your partner, or at least I thought I was.”

“You are,” he says, his voice softening. “You are my partner. But sometimes—”

“Sometimes what? You don’t trust me?” The words spill out before you can stop them, and you immediately regret the vulnerability in your tone.

He looks stricken. “That’s not it.”

“Then what is it?” you demand, your frustration masking the ache in your chest. “Because right now, it feels like you’re pushing me away.”

Stephen opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, the ground beneath you trembles slightly—a subtle vibration that you’ve learned to recognize all too well. Both of you freeze, the tension between you momentarily forgotten.

“Disturbance?” you ask, already bracing yourself.

He nods grimly, and within seconds, the two of you are moving in tandem, the argument shelved but far from resolved. The Sanctum’s defenses hum to life as the source of the tremor grows closer. You catch a flicker of movement out of the corner of your eye—a distortion in the air, like heat waves rising from pavement.

And then it appears. A portal, jagged and unstable, tears open in the center of the room. Through it steps a figure cloaked in shadow, their presence radiating a dark energy that makes your skin crawl. Stephen steps in front of you instinctively, his hands already glowing with the beginnings of a spell.

The confrontation is brief but intense. Together, you and Stephen drive the intruder back through the portal, sealing it before any real damage can be done. But the effort leaves both of you shaken. As the Sanctum settles back into its usual hum of quiet power, you find yourself staring at Stephen, your earlier frustration returning with a vengeance.

“See?” you say, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and adrenaline. “This is exactly why you can’t keep me in the dark. If you had told me what was going on—”

“It wouldn’t have made a difference,” he interrupts, his tone sharp.

“Are you kidding me?” You take a step closer, your hands balling into fists at your sides. “Stephen, I’m not some liability you need to shield. I’m your equal. Or at least, I thought I was.”

He looks at you then, his expression a mix of guilt and something else—something deeper that he’s trying to hide. “You are,” he says softly. “You’re more than that.”

The admission catches you off guard, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him. The weight of his words hangs in the air between you, thick and charged. But before you can press him to elaborate, he turns away, running a hand through his hair.

“I just—” He exhales sharply, his shoulders tense. “I can’t lose you.”

The raw honesty in his voice cuts through your anger like a blade. You feel your defenses crumbling, the frustration giving way to something softer, something more vulnerable.

“You’re not going to lose me,” you say, your voice gentler now. “But if you keep shutting me out, you’re going to push me away. Is that what you want?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, and the silence stretches until you’re sure he’s not going to. But then he turns back to you, his expression open in a way you’ve never seen before.

“No,” he says finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “That’s the last thing I want.”

The confession sends a jolt through you, and you feel your heart pounding in your chest. For a moment, you’re not sure what to say. The tension between you feels different now, heavier but in a way that makes you want to step closer, not further away.

“Stephen—” you begin, but the words catch in your throat.

He takes a step toward you, closing the distance between you. His gaze holds yours, and for the first time, you see the full depth of what he’s been holding back—the fear, the longing, the vulnerability.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “For pushing you away. For trying to handle everything on my own.”

You nod, your throat tight. “I just… I need to know you trust me. That we’re in this together.”

“We are,” he says firmly, his voice steady despite the emotion in his eyes. “Always.”

The words are simple, but they carry a weight that makes your chest ache. You want to believe him, to let go of the lingering doubt and frustration. And as he reaches out, his hand brushing against yours, you realize that you do.

For a long moment, the two of you stand there, the world outside forgotten. The storm rages on, the snow battering against the windows, but inside, everything feels still.

“Okay,” you say softly, squeezing his hand. “But next time, no secrets. Deal?”

“Deal,” he says, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

The tension between you eases, replaced by a tentative warmth. It’s not a perfect resolution, but it’s a start.

The storm outside eventually fades into the background as the two of you return to the task at hand: decorating the tree. The argument lingers faintly, like the smell of smoke after a fire has been extinguished, but the air between you is warmer now. You’ve both said what needed to be said, and though things still feel a little fragile, there’s an unspoken agreement to move forward.

Stephen picks up a box of ornaments and studies it like it might bite him. “So, what’s the plan here? Do we have a specific theme? Or are we just throwing random baubles on and hoping for the best?”

You suppress a smile, unable to resist an opening like that. “Random baubles, huh? Is that your professional sorcerer opinion?”

He rolls his eyes, though there’s a faint pink tinge to his ears. “I’m serious. This is your area of expertise, apparently.”

“Oh, so now I’m the Christmas tree expert?” You smirk, grabbing a handful of tinsel and tossing it around your shoulders like a boa. “What happened to Mr. ‘Efficiency Is Better Than Tradition’?”

Stephen glares at the tinsel for a moment before his lips twitch in what might be the beginnings of a smile. “Efficiency is for wrapping presents. Decorating a tree is apparently a whole other… ritual.”

“Exactly!” you say, pointing a finger at him. “It’s all about the experience. You can’t just magic your way through this one, Strange.”

He mutters something under his breath about the inefficiency of tradition but doesn’t argue further. Instead, he picks up a glass ornament shaped like a snowflake and examines it with the kind of focus he usually reserves for ancient texts and mystical artifacts. It’s endearing, really, how out of his element he looks.

“You know,” you say, unable to resist, “you’re awfully careful with that ornament for someone who once juggled three flaming swords during a fight with a demon.”

Stephen shoots you a look, his brow furrowing. “Those swords were enchanted. This is… delicate.”

You snort. “So is your ego.”

The snowflake slips from his fingers, and for a split second, you both freeze. But then he mutters a quick spell, and the ornament hovers in midair, spinning gently before he catches it. His face is a mixture of relief and exasperation as he sets the snowflake on the tree.

“Careful,” you tease, grinning. “Wouldn’t want Wong to hear that you almost dropped one of his prized decorations.”

“Why do I let you do this to me?” he mutters, though there’s no real bite in his words.

“Because you secretly love it,” you reply cheerfully, grabbing another ornament and tossing it to him. He catches it without looking, his reflexes annoyingly perfect even when he’s flustered.

The two of you fall into a rhythm, hanging ornaments and draping garlands with an ease that feels almost domestic. But every so often, you can’t help but prod him, throwing in little comments just to see that faint pink blush creep back into his cheeks.

“Nice placement,” you say, gesturing to a particularly crooked ornament. “Very avant-garde. Didn’t know you were such an artist.”

“It’s not crooked,” he insists, stepping back to examine it. Then, with a frown: “Okay, maybe it is.”

You laugh, reaching over to adjust it. Your fingers brush against his, and he pulls back quickly, his movements stiff. The awkwardness is almost palpable, and you bite your lip to keep from laughing. For someone who exudes confidence in every other aspect of his life, Stephen is hilariously bad at navigating these kinds of moments.

“Relax, Strange,” you say, giving him a sly smile. “It’s just a Christmas tree. Not a mystical artifact of great power.”

“I know that,” he says, his tone defensive. “I’m perfectly relaxed.”

“Sure you are,” you say, stepping back to admire the tree. “You look as relaxed as Wong does when I mention the word ‘karaoke.’”

Stephen glares at you, but the effect is somewhat ruined by the way his lips twitch, betraying his amusement. “One of these days, your jokes are going to get you into trouble.”

“Maybe,” you say with a shrug. “But until then, they’re going to keep making you blush.”

His jaw tightens, and you can practically see him willing himself not to react. It’s adorable, really, how hard he tries to maintain his composure. But then you catch his gaze lingering on you a moment too long, and your teasing falters, replaced by a sudden, heart-pounding awareness of how close you’re standing.

The moment stretches, and for once, you don’t have a quip ready. Stephen clears his throat, breaking the silence, and takes a step back, busying himself with a strand of lights. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and turn back to the tree, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through your chest.

The awkwardness lingers, but it’s softened by the occasional shared glance, the way his hand brushes yours when you both reach for the same ornament. You can’t help but wonder if he feels it too, this strange, magnetic pull that seems to grow stronger every time you’re near him.

“Are you always this insufferable during the holidays?” he asks eventually, his tone light but tinged with curiosity.

“Only when I’m decorating with someone who’s so easy to mess with,” you reply, shooting him a grin.

He shakes his head, but there’s a small smile on his lips now, the tension between you easing. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are,” you say, draping a strand of tinsel over his shoulders. “Stuck with me.”

Stephen’s smile widens, and for a moment, you see something in his expression that makes your breath catch. He doesn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes says enough. Maybe, just maybe, being stuck with you isn’t the worst thing in the world.

By the time the tree is fully decorated, the awkwardness has given way to a quiet camaraderie. You sit on the floor beside Stephen, admiring your handiwork as the twinkling lights cast a warm glow over the room. The storm outside has quieted, the snow falling gently now, and the Sanctum feels like a haven—a world unto itself.

“Not bad,” you say, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. “For a couple of sorcerers.”

Stephen chuckles, his gaze fixed on the tree. “Not bad at all.”

The comfortable silence stretches between you, and for a moment, everything feels right. But then you glance at him, catching the way the lights reflect in his eyes, and your heart skips a beat. The teasing words that come so easily to you suddenly feel inadequate, and you wonder if he can hear the unspoken feelings in the quiet.

You look away quickly, focusing on the tree. “So,” you say, your voice a little too loud, “what’s next on the Christmas to-do list?”

Stephen smirks, clearly picking up on your attempt to change the subject. “Mistletoe, apparently. Wong insisted we have some, though I have no idea where he put it.”

“Mistletoe, huh?” You raise an eyebrow, your grin returning. “Dangerous territory, Strange. You sure you can handle it?”

He laughs, and the sound is warm and genuine. “I think I’ll manage. As long as you don’t hang it directly above my chair.”

“No promises,” you say with a wink, feeling the awkward tension melt away again. Whatever this is between you—this dance of teasing and unspoken emotions—it’s messy and complicated, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

As the night goes on, the two of you continue decorating the Sanctum, the occasional awkward moment giving way to laughter and warmth. And though you don’t say it out loud, you know that this Christmas, with all its chaos and imperfection, is one you’ll never forget.

The Sanctum is uncharacteristically serene as you and Stephen sink into the plush couch, the warmth from the nearby fire casting a golden glow across the room. Outside, the snow has settled into a quiet, delicate fall, a soft white blanket draping over the city. The once-chaotic mess of decorations has been transformed into a festive masterpiece: garlands twined along the railings, twinkling lights adorning the walls, and the Christmas tree standing proudly in the corner, shimmering with every color imaginable.

Wong is nowhere to be seen, having retreated to another part of the Sanctum hours ago, muttering something about tea and solitude. It’s just you and Stephen now, the silence between you comfortable yet charged with unspoken words.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye. He’s leaning back against the couch, one arm draped lazily over the backrest. His usually sharp features are softened in the firelight, the lines of his face etched with something like contentment. He’s still wearing that ridiculous strand of tinsel you draped over his shoulders earlier, and the sight makes you smile.

“You’re awfully quiet,” you say, breaking the silence. “Thinking about something?”

Stephen turns his head to look at you, his lips quirking into a small smile. “Just… enjoying the peace. It’s rare around here.”

“True,” you say, nodding. “But I think we earned it. That tree didn’t decorate itself, after all.”

He chuckles, a low, rich sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “You’re not going to let me live down the ornament thing, are you?”

“Not a chance,” you reply with a grin. “It’s not every day I see the great Doctor Strange fumbling with Christmas decorations.”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s a warmth in his expression that makes your chest tighten. You’re suddenly very aware of how close you’re sitting, your knees almost touching, the space between you feeling impossibly small.

The words you’ve been holding back all evening rise to the surface, clamoring to be said. You glance at the tree, the lights, the snow falling softly outside. It feels like the perfect moment, the kind you’ve only ever seen in movies. And as your gaze drifts upward, you notice something that makes your heart skip a beat.

Mistletoe. Dangling just above the couch, its green leaves and tiny white berries gleaming in the firelight.

Your breath catches, and for a moment, you hesitate. Is this too cliché? Too obvious? But then Stephen shifts beside you, his fingers brushing against yours on the couch, and all your doubts vanish.

“Stephen,” you say softly, turning to face him fully.

He meets your gaze, his expression curious but guarded. “Yeah?”

Your heart pounds as you take a deep breath. “There’s something I need to tell you. Something I’ve been meaning to say for a while now.”

His brow furrows slightly, and for a brief, terrifying moment, you think he’s going to interrupt, to stop you. But he stays quiet, his gaze steady and unreadable.

You forge ahead, your voice trembling slightly. “I know we’ve been through a lot together—fighting off threats, saving the world, arguing about Christmas lights—” You pause, your lips quirking into a nervous smile. “But somewhere along the way, it stopped being just about teamwork for me.”

Stephen’s eyes widen slightly, the guarded look in his expression faltering. You press on, the words spilling out before you can second-guess them.

“I care about you,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “More than I probably should. More than I’ve ever cared about anyone.”

The silence that follows is deafening. Your heart feels like it’s about to burst out of your chest as you search his face for a reaction. For a moment, he looks stunned, his lips parted slightly, his gaze fixed on you like he’s seeing you for the first time.

And then, slowly, a smile spreads across his face. It’s soft and a little shy, and it makes your breath catch all over again.

“I thought I was the only one,” he says, his voice low and rough with emotion.

Your eyes widen. “Wait, what?”

Stephen leans closer, his hand brushing against yours on the couch. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been? Pretending that I don’t feel… everything when I’m around you?” He lets out a soft, almost self-deprecating laugh. “I thought you’d never see me as anything more than an arrogant sorcerer.”

“I mean, you are an arrogant sorcerer,” you tease, a grin breaking through your shock. “But I guess I like you anyway.”

His laugh this time is louder, freer, and it sends a thrill through you. He reaches up, his hand cupping your cheek, and the warmth of his touch makes your heart flutter.

“You’re insufferable,” he says, his tone affectionate. “But so am I. Maybe that’s why this works.”

Your breath hitches as he leans in, his gaze flicking briefly upward. “And look at that,” he murmurs, his lips quirking into a smirk. “Mistletoe.”

You glance up, a laugh bubbling out of you. “Convenient, huh?”

“Very,” he agrees, his voice soft as he closes the remaining distance between you.

When his lips meet yours, it’s like the world tilts on its axis. The kiss is gentle at first, tentative, as if he’s afraid this might all be a dream. But then his hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and the kiss deepens, stealing the breath from your lungs.

You lose yourself in the sensation—the warmth of his lips, the way his thumb strokes your cheek, the faint scent of cedar and magic that clings to him. It’s everything you didn’t know you needed, and yet it feels like coming home.

When you finally pull back, both of you are breathing heavily, your foreheads resting together. Stephen’s eyes search yours, and you see a vulnerability there that makes your chest ache.

“Is this real?” he whispers, his voice so quiet you almost don’t hear it.

You smile, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his face. “It’s real.”

He closes his eyes for a moment, exhaling softly. “Good. Because I don’t think I could go back to pretending.”

“Me neither,” you admit, your voice trembling with emotion. “I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

The two of you sit there for a long moment, the weight of your confession settling over you like a warm blanket. And as you lean into him, his arm wrapping around your shoulders, you can’t help but feel like this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

Above you, the mistletoe sways gently, as if in approval.

23 notes · View notes

j2zara · 5 months ago

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hello janelle zukkacore j2zara, its a long time coming but i would like to be a part of clone enjoyers anonymous bc im v interested in their dynamics and i really like ur drawings of the clones :3

i am however, overwhelmed on where to start learning abt them and i was hoping u could point me to the right direction since i pretty much see u as the president of clone enjoyers thank u so much ily 💖

HI FRIEND WELCOME TO THE CLONE ENJOYERS!!!!! WE'D LOVE TO HAVE YOU! THIS WAS GETTING WIELDY SO I SPLIT IT INTO TWO PARTS

PART ONE + TWO OF CLONE LORE IS HERE

Part 1 is basics of Clone Lore. Part 2 is me shamlessly reccing my fanfic to understand the context. Tbh I'd start with part 1 first or the doc

I've also compiled Clone Lore into a Google doc: it contains all the information from the first post and this post. I might include elaborations later (i was too exhausted to get fully into LJ3. But i feel bad neglecting it).

Anyway. I'm probably gonna link Clone Primer into my pinned post so that people can come back to it.

And I wanna emphasize. I 100% get how insular this is so if you're confused please feel free to ask!!! I have no problem explaining things. I love to talk. I talk way too much. Ask anyone. b/c like. I feel bad that this is gonna look super intimidating.

SO here's the rest of Clone Primer

PART 3: CLONE PRIMER - ELABORATION ON THE BASICS + WEIRD INSULAR INFO + ME RECAPPING FIC CONCEPT STUFF

[I WOULD SKIP THESE OR COME BACK TO THEM LATER IF YOU WANNA GO INTO THE FICS UNSPOILED BUT IF THE SUMMARY IS SUPPLANTING READING THE FIC GO RIGHT AHEAD]

J2 EDITION (aka ALMOST LORE) - aka "BLUEJAY"

J2's personality originates from I'm Almost Me Again (He's Almost You), and was the first one to be developed

J2 is devoted, sweet, earnest, hard-working, anxious, desperate to prove himself. He can have a slight acidic streak (his favorite way to rebel is smashing Jace's stuff) but is very preoccupied with being useful.

He reads as slightly younger than Jace b/c he's a clone, he basically just started existing yesterday, and I jokingly refer to him as "25 year old green new hire coded jace" (and also as Born Sexy Yesterday Jace) bc rewatching Freshman Year, I was surprised by how young and inexperienced Jace sounded, and I feel like that detail about his character (that imo makes his situation very pitiable) was really lost in translation in Junior Year. Because he is young to the world and kind of naive, he is very easy to impress and exploit

However, he is still clever and good at magic. Simulacra in dnd don't regain spell slots, but J2 was the first clone to figure out that as a sorcerer, he could convert sorcery points into spell slots, extending his utility to Jace and Porter and basically sparing himself from being dispelled.

J2 is initially very anxious about his purpose / survival. As a clone, he knows he has an expiration date and is desperate to make himself invaluable. The sorcery points solution to the spell slots is part of this.

J2's innate talent is part of what caught Porter's eye. He was the first clone to meet Porter, and Porter (and to some degree, Jace too) laud him as basically like. Jace's Precious Last Gift to Porter. He's often seen as remarkable or special, but its ambiguous whether that specialness is about j2 on his own terms or if he is special as a manifestation of jace's talent.

J2 is the one who is the intermediary between Jace, Porter, and the other Clones. He takes on the most responsibility, and interacts the most with Porter. Spending a lot of time with Porter, they two of them became very close

J2 is the one who loves Porter deeply enough to be very committed to The Plan. He thinks Porter is worthy of ascension, godhood, even if it means Porter will eventually leave him.

J2 had a long, deeply committed affair w/ porter that culminated in them sleeping together and J2 taking devil's honey that kinda rewired his brain and fucked him up. J2 was very much in love with Porter until he found out that Porter killed Jace and brought him back to life, but the devils honey tricks him into forgetting that fear.

The lie he told himself on devil's honey is "I want this. I want everything. Porter deserves everything". It basically rewires his brain to convince himself that he wants whatever happens to him, whether it be good or bad. Even if Porter got back together with jace, he would want that too, because Porter deserves everything, right? Everything he wants. Me and Jace. Just jace. Even if J2 becomes a literal or emotional sacrifice for the betterment orf porter or the cause. Whatever it is, i will be happy

Right after this happens, jace calls porter and agrees to enfold back into the Plan, but is not going to get back together w/ Porter. J2's fate is ambiguous, but emotionally, Porter has pretty much cast him aside with the hope that he will get back together with Jace. Also, b/c Jace is back in the picture, his status as the Last Precious Gift from Jace is in jeopardy and he becomes about as disposable as the other clones (however, usually when we clonepost, J2 is still top of the pecking order just below Jace)

POST-ALMOST: as far as Clone Lore goes - J2 tends to live in this state where he doesn't just worship Porter, but what we call the "Starbreaker Pantheon". He reveres the jaceporter relationship b/c he finds it to be profound and meaningful even if it's not always Good. Jace also occupies a spot in his devotion as like. This figure he is deeply envious of and could never measure up to, but also as someone he knows must be worthy of respect b/c that's who Porter wants, right? He wants what Jaceporter has b/c he sees Porter's love for Jace as like, something true and intimate and something he's only ever gotten a sliver of, treated as a replacement. He wants to be Jace, but he also wants Porter to be happy, so if Porter is happy with Jace he can find a way to worship Jace, too.

I ALMOST FORGOT TO MENTION: in Almost, Porter gave J2 the nickname "Bluejay". This is b/c J2's favorite color is blue, which makes him distinct from Jace. He is a very cozy boy who loves cardigans and sweaters and blue nail polish. Yes. Blue Jay is two words. We're gonna breeze past that. J2 fell in love with his new nickname, desperate to see it as a way for Porter to finally recognize him as different from Jace. If you see the clone enjoyers refer to J2 as Bluejay, this is why.

J3 EDITION (aka some Biggest Lie Lore etc)

J2's personality was developed in Almost, and I'd say J3's personality was crystalized in Biggest Lie, but technically J3's personality started as a joke. I said offhand one time in reply to another mutual that in my head, Porter was 100% noncommittally flirting with J3 the entire time he was having this very deep and torrid love affair with J2, and J3 sort of. Became the our beloved little slut as a result of that

J3 is flirtatious, thrillseeking, playful, manipulative, charming, easily bored, fatalistic / borderline parasuicidal, and deeply alientated from his sense of personhood. J2 spent a long time wishing to be loved by Porter on his own terms, as his own person, before finally succumbing. However, J3 is happy (well, convinced himself he happy) to be treated as Jace's cypher.

J3 is often treated as the Most Disposable of the clones. J2 is the intermediary and the Precious Gift. J3 is usually left with grunt work, and anything dangerous is usually foisted upon him to spare J2. He is the one who goes with Porter to cast enlarge-reduce in the woods, and he is the one that used to be spellcaster support for Porter if they ever needed to go anywhere dangerous.

J3 being treated as disposable is why he has no sense of identity or a sense of self preservation, unlike J2. Porter never spends time outside of necessity (until they start screwing. we'll get to that), so nobody has ever really bothered to get to know J3 besides the other clones. J2 is the one that Porter treasures, so J3 views himself as the shield for j3, the disposable one, the one who is likely first to die.

Because of this, he is a thrillseeker, desperate to cram as much living into his short half-life as possible (this includes trying to fuck anyone and everyone in elmville). The experiences do not have to be positive, he wants everything as long as its exciting.

During Almost, J3 and Porter were casually flirting. J3 would die before admitting it, but spending time with Porter was his favorite part of the day. Post Almost, when Jace got folded back into the plan but was not back together with porter, that's when Porter started hooking up with J3. With J3 perfectly willing to let Porter project all his want for jace and frustration at jace onto him because hey, he's getting the porter hookup and not jace, right?

J3 always threads this tenuous line of actively seeking out experiences while also passively being the recipient of other people's fantasies. unlike J2, he embraces being a jace cypher for Porter because that's how he gets porter at his most heightened. J3 often refuses to articulate what he wants, instead letting people do whatever they want to him. He is terrified of being seen as needy, terrified of being rejected for who he is.

At his best he is charismatic and charming, but at his worst he can be dramatic, whiny, desperate for enrichment, actively manipulative and cruel. His best quality and greatest flaw that he inherited from jace and took to the extreme is that he is generous and egoless; as much as he desires to be the center of attention, as much as he can push and push, at the end of the day, he gives people exactly what they need from him at his own expense

J3 rejects the intimacy with Porter that J2 seeks out and can never really achieve because he always falls short of being Jace. J3 convinces himself that he got the best deal out of anyone b/c he doesn't have to deal with the mess of attachment and heartbreak. However, deep down he is deeply jealous of J2 and Jace.

Post-Biggest Lie: Jace and Porter get back together in IYWD, in which Porter drops the clones, including J3. However, in cloneposting, sometimes the clones still have like a weird undefined thing with Porter and Jace for the sake of us having a fun time and fucking around.

BONUS LORE: Not technically canon to Biggest Lie, but J3 is closest to J4 out of everyone in Jaceporter + the clones dynamic. Because J2 is the precious favorite, J3 n J4 developed a weird allyship because they were the matching spares. They are kinda primed to be each other's biggest supporters and biggest weaknesses tbh. J3 provides J4 a spot of actual levity and pleasure in a half-life she otherwise considers to be miserable. J4 recognizes J3's personhood, gives voice to injustices he faces, and likes him for who he is and not who he pretends to me. They are best friends. They flirt. Sometimes they're in love, but like. we'll get to that

J4 EDITION - (aka Electra / Ellie)

J4 doesn't have as much of a... hefty source for characterization. i really hesitate to call things i write a primary source b/c i don't like to claim ownership over the clones it feels weird and wrong for something that is supposed to be fun and is already fanfiction. But i will say the things i write are. Substantial sources if you want clone context bc they're hefty projects lol.

J4 does not have a Porter-centric fic. This may change in the future but, the reason for this is b/c she is the only clone that hates Porter so subjecting her to that is. A much more convoluted task. Closest thing she has is Stay / Leave which is j3/j4 which we sometimes call LJ3 (and the two fics written by iaus!!!! which are fan fucking tastic!)

J4's personality is the result of. Looking at J2 n J3 and going. Ok what is the third point in a data set. If J2 worships Porter, the antithesis is someone who hates Porter, right? (and J3 is a middle ground)

J4 is marginally more loose in her characterization, but I would say she is... Rageful, bitter, driven, rebellious, ruthless, and steadfast in her beliefs, whether they are good or bad. She feels trapped by her circumstances, unlike J2 who has learned to love his gilded cage, and J3 who has accepted his fate and is basically trying to fuck hard until he dies in an explosion. She is determined to carve out her own path and define her own personhood, what we jokingly refer to as her "escaping the narrative"

Unlike J3 who has no problem being a cypher for jace and has completely neglected his own personhood, and J2 who desperately tried to get porter to recognize him for the person he was before succumbing and submitting, willing to be whatever The Plan and Porter needed of him, occupying this weird middle ground, J4 wants nothing to do with jace. She is determined to be her own person. She is disgusted by the limitations placed on her by being "of jace"

You're probably wondering why J4 is a girl. This was a me-headcanon that became fairly mass accepted, but I have joked that J4 is the only clone to achieve transgenderism. I do use she/her pronouns predominantly for J4, but it's mainly out of habit, i also am not super precious about it, nor do i really care what anyone else does with her. I don't necessarily see being a binary trans girl as the only way to interpret her character, but J4 being a girl it is the common way she is perceived at this point this deep into clone lore. As someone who also has a lot of gender feelings, i do see the need to define oneself and create your own identity to be very transgender tho, so i do think it's fitting

More of a fandom joke thing, J4 loves knives. We love when she gets stabby. There are also a lot of jokes abt her stealing jace's credit cards, his SSN, fantasizing abt setting his house on fire

She is preoccupied with the ways in which she might be similar to Porter because she views him as the embodiment of everything she hates, but she is the clone most like him. She is afraid of her own capacity for rage, her instincts for violence, for control, to own, to take, to posses, to dominate. She wants to fight to liberate, for what's right, but she worries her fight is just to be the person holding the boot at someone's throat rather than the person under the boot.

She worries her impotence and rebellion makes her unpalatable and unlovable. Because she can't really make any meaningful change in their circumstances, wouldn't it just be easier to submit? She worries she's denying herself pleasure for nothing. Even if she doesn't have a choice, wouldn't it easier to be submit and be happy, rather than fight and be miserable?

We also joke about Bad Timeline J4, who is equally as cruel and ruthless, but is devoted to Porter. There's no real content abt her, but its just a make believe scenario where she did finally stop fighting and agree to love Porter, in which she is the one most possessive of him, determined to be his attack dog right hand.

As articulated brilliantly by bambi, Jace, j3, and j2 are pretty archetypal charisma casters in that they are charming and make themselves easy to love. J4 wields her personality like a sledgehammer, but that is charisma, too. Her presence is always felt

She was originally very prideful. Determined to be different. Determined to be the one to make it out. Her pride covers up for a deep self hatred, especially as the expiration date of the clones ticks nearer and nearer, and she views herself to be a failure.

Her only soft spots are for the other clones, but especially J3. She pities J2, essentially viewing him as brainwashed into accepting their lot on life, but because of that pity, she does harbor some kindness and tenderness for him because of that. But J3? J4 bets on losing dogs, and she loves her losing dog so much and she would never admit it, but everyone can see it. If it wasn't for him, she probably would have ditched this whole situation.

This is an Esme Special aka @neerdowellnarrator, but J4 b/c she wants to make a point about not being Jase does choose her own name. J4's chosen name is Electra b/c of the greek myth comparisons and her basically Escaping A The Cycle. She goes by "Ellie" for short. J3 sometimes calls her El / Elle. We still refer to her as J4 sometimes for clarity's sake. Whatever stage she is in when it comes to even having a name is very dependent on whoever is depicting her anyway.

PART 4: Wait, so are J3 and J4... In love?

Yeah. it's like a whole Thing. This is a pretty recent development. I'll save it for the doc. To be elaborated on soon, I promise. It's called LJ3, i have a whole tag for it if it grips you.

PART 5: ADDITIONAL SILLY CLONE ENJOYERISMS (with links)

J2Porter Vegas Wedding Roleplay Weekend: a Jess Special! Based on this post! Elaborated on here! Jess aka @hauntedwizardmoment has more thoughts here! But I have a whole tag dedicated to it. Gist is that even after Jace n Porter get back together, Porter still devotes special days to the clones to give them Porter Time, and J2's day is an entire weekend where they booked a hotel in Bastion City. And during that time, they're basically roleplaying "What if we got spontaneous hitched in vegas" where Porter books out the honeymoon sweet, and J2 wears a tacky wedding dress, and the whole weekend is just devoted to treating J2. I'm not kidding, if i think too hard abt j2porter vegas roleplay weekend, I might cry.

Jace put the Clones are in the Torment Nexus: based on a post made by Jess again. Makes me laugh my ass off. If we say the clones are never escaping the torment nexus, this is why

J2Jace Blue Lingerie Gift: Sometimes J2 deserves the niceys, so Jace gives him a treat. NSFT warning lol. The post is a Jess Special / Bambi @iaus / @innskeep Special. I drew J2 something inspired by the getup once.

J2 is goodboy modest tradcath jace / J3 is college casual hookup clubbing era jace / j4 is grunge jace: Just headcanons for the different Jace's style of dress. They're all different eras or common headcanons within the fandom b/c Jace fashions eras. J2 is a bit modest, he likes cardigans and sweaters and for things to be comfortable and oversized (but to be fair, he's not AS modest as goodboy jace. Goodboy ex tradcath jace is the jace backstory for IYWD btw. He's the child of one sol worshiping parent and one galicaean worshiping parent and he is NOT ok). J3 wears a lot of form fitting clubbing outfits and hotpants and shit, Jace's wild child era. J4 wears clothes from grunge jace era which i think is a Jess Special again? Like. Old band tees and flannels and lots of black.

J4 is constantly name dropping obscure alt bands that play tuesday night in the parking lot of the black pit and only watches experimental indie horror movies and foreign war films shot from the perspective of pigeon (said w so much love, that concept fucks)

J2 Amy Dunne / J3 Cool Girl / J4 Gone Girl Amy / Jaceprime Amazing Amy Thesis: An elaboration on Jess's Cool Girl Jace Thesis on which she wrote an awesome fic about.

The Clones are Dykes: This one is old as fuck. I made a joke ages ago abt Dyke!Jace b/c I think Dykefag!Jace / Zara is a cute ship. So if Jace is a dyke, then the clones must also be Dykes. I drew art of them once. Digging up the dyke clones posts would be a trip and they're not really indicative of their current personalities, but if you see us joking about. J2 escaping to another timeline where he is a dyke and in a committed relationship with Zara or Lucilla, that is where that comes from

"Born to Love Porter Cliffbreaker, forced to do weird menial tasks for Jaceprime": another old ass thing i said as a joke before the clones had personalities. But it does have a lot to do with j4's preoccupation w/ free will. And Jace also being remade to love porter. Life is hard when you're born to love someone and you're forced to grade papers instead! It ain't much but it's a half-life! At the same time, me positing the clones all had potential to fall in love with Porter is kinda what brought us here, so.

There's a whole host of greek myth and hadestown references we're always dragging out. Cassankarna is Persephades, Jaceporter is Orphydice. Jaceporter is Persephades, J2 is Eurydice. Jaceporter is Persephades, LJ3 is Orphydice. J2 is Iphigenia, J3 is Helen, J4 is Electra / Cassandra. J2 is also Psyche.

Putting the Clones in Game changer: A comedy au in which the Clones are improv comedians on Dropout.tv. But also it's about LJ3 being a little in love and unable to escape the narrative. Esme made Elliego n J3go which i love (aka bingo cards). Loosely based on the last time i drew Jaceporter on game changer as well

Anyway! Thank you for coming on this long winded journey of Clone Primer! If i have any other thoughts I'll add it to the doc.

#jan.ask #clone enjoyers anonymous

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secret-smut-sideblog · 2 months ago

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What Lies Between

Gale x F! Tav

( @avabjorna36 this one's for youuu )

18+ enclosed space trope, teasing, grinding, dry humping, dirty talk, whimpering, pleading, subGale/domTav, brat dom, praise kink, breast worship (f!), cowgirl, p-in-v, some aftercare and tenderness, porn w/o plot

After a magical misfire, Tav and Gale are trapped tight between stone. Weeks of sexual tension between sorcerer and wizard come to a head...

Masterlist

"Gale, come on." Tav sighed, aggravation sharp in her weary tone. "I'm tired."

"Our friends are assuredly and diligently near to freeing us." His voice stayed steady in its usual educated canter. "There's no need to get any closer."

Through a mishap in sigil transportation, they had teleported to a thin space behind a crypt wall. Fallen beams had pinned her to stand above him in an awkward straddle. It had been nearly half an hour, and her thighs burned terribly. He was already situated in a seated lean against fallen stone as his breath tickled against her clavicle. She just wanted to sit.

"You're being ridiculous." She huffed, pressing her hands flat to the stone around his head. "My legs are on fire, Gale. Just let me sit on your lap."

"I'd rather you didn't if it's all the same to you."

"I'm shocked." She bit. "It's only the gentlemanly thing to do."

"I'm claustrophobic."

She snorted a laugh.

"No, you're not. You'd have been hyperventilating twenty minutes ago."

Her calves gave another shock of taut painful tingling.

"For fucks sake, I'm sitting down." She growled.

"No! Wait-"

Her knees fell forward, releasing a deep sigh as her thighs finally stretched. The warm of his lap filled under her pleasantly. Except...

A ridge of hard pressed against her center.

Gale hissed shaky breaths through teeth as her eyes rose slowly, smiling devilishly in the dark.

"You're hard." She purred.

"Don't be crass." He huffed, the slight breathlessness in his voice undermining his reprimanding. "It's a natural reaction, involuntary at that. I'd ask you to have the decency to ignore it."

"Uh-huh."

The slightest slide of her hips forward made him gasp.

"Stop wiggling about!" He snapped.

"Why?" She smiled.

"Just... stop moving."

She rocked her hips an inch or two. Delighting in the shudder of his breath.

"Knock it off." He tried to growl, but another rock of her hips pulled a small whimper from his chest. "I'm serious!"

She maintained a terribly slow wave, grinding agonizing pleasure into him. Smiling ear to ear.

"Why don't you grab my hips if you want me to stop?" She hushed into the well of his ear.

"Grab my fucking hips. Come on." She breathed. The tremble in his breath only widened her wicked smile.

She licked a flat line up the curve of his ear, panting a wanton breath into it.

He moaned deep in his chest. His hips started to meet hers in time.

"There you go." She purred, voice heavy with praise. "Good boy."

His whole body shuddered. A strangled moan caught in his throat.

"Such a good boy." She continued as she wove her hand into his hair, voice dripping with honey. "Such a good lap for me to fuck."

His hands shot out to brace against stone. Breath a heaving labor against her chest. His cock harder than stone against the soak between her legs.

Her free hand trailed down his chest, then traveled the small distance to hers. Untying her robe at the waist.

She shrugged the fabric off her shoulders, her breasts free to the chill crypt air. Pebbled in cold and deep arousal.

"My nipples are so hard for you." She moaned, leading his wide hand to cup the mound. Urging his thumb over her sensitive peak. "Don't you want to play with them?"

"Yes- Gods..." He groaned as his other palm gathered her opposite breast. Cupping and kneading both breasts with hungry hands. Rubbing her nipples with fast swipes of the pads of his thumbs.

She mewled, her head fallen back in pleasure. Hips canting faster into him.

"Fuck..." He groaned through a throat thick with arousal. Flicking her peaks with his thumbs.

She shuddered, her hazy eyes struggling to focus on him in the dark.

"Get your cock out." She commanded.

He rushed under her, rearranging fabric fervently. The pillar pressed against her soaked cunt with eager twitches, leaking against her lower belly.

"Such a good boy." She praised, sliding her cunt against his cock as he hissed a curse. "You like being directed, don't you?"

He nodded dumbly, staring up at her. Eyes so sweet and wide as his hands gripped into the fat of her hips.

"Do you want to be inside me, sweetheart?" She played with his hair, pushing her words through pursed lips.

"Please..." His voice came out warbled.

"Oh, I like when you ask nicely." She smiled. "Can you feel how much I like it? How soaked my cunt is against your cock?"

"Oh Gods-" He finally cracked, his pleas coming out like a man begging for his life. "Please, please, I need to be inside you! I need to fuck you so fucking bad! PLEASE!"

She sighed in deep satisfaction, lining him up below her. Descending in one full stroke, enveloping him entirely inside her.

He cried out as his head fell back sharply. His body tremored in pleasure beneath her as his cock jolted inside her.

Her own moan fell from her lips, rocking her hips into him near involuntarily. She hadn't expected him to be so thick, hitting all the toe curling spots inside her.

"You feel so good." She breathed, weaving her fingers back into his long hair as she began her ride. Directing his head to her breast firmly. "Suck my tits while I ride you."

He melted into a strangled moan, cupping her ribs with bruising fingertips. His warm wet mouth enveloped a peak, slurping enthusiastically with a messy tongue.

She shuddered hard, her cunt fluttering around him. The stroke of his cock inside her rose her eyes into her skull. Picking up speed, her hips drove into him. The squelching of her sex and their joined moaning and gasping a salacious chorus.

She was teetering at the edge already. Her orgasm pressed tighter and tighter in her pelvis, threatening to spill over the floodgates at any moment. His voracious mouth suckling and popping her nipples and the pleasure pressed deep into her walls left her a lust driven beast.

He nibbled down on her abused nipple, tweaking the other between his long fingers.

She cried out as the sharp of it fully broke the dam.

White hot pleasure jolted out through her in unfolding waves. Cunt clenching like a fist.

Gale moaned loudly into her saliva coated breasts. Mouth rising to bite and suck at her throat with animal fervor.

She rode out her pleasure with stuttered hips and lost breath, body jolting with aftershock. Truly impressed with his discipline to not cum.

"Do you want to cum, sweet boy?" She asked like sugar melting on a tongue. Hips still grinding up and down. His cut moans helpless to the rhythm of her ride. "You've been so good. So patient."

He nodded fervently against her throat, his eyes clenched shut tight. Panting hard into the curve of her jaw. "I've been good." He moaned in a near whine.

"Yes, you have." She agreed through a smile. Pulling his head back to stare down into his watery eyes, cupping his face in both hands.

He stared back up with slack awe, eyes soft and pleading.

"So sweet." She kissed his forehead tenderly.

Whispering against it.

"Cum."

He cried out under her, rushing his mouth up to hers to strangle himself in a messy kiss. Body tensed into a bow, buckling and writhing beneath her like a thrashing fish pulled from the sea. Flooding her full, all hitching muscle and smothered begging. Entirely lost to the unmaking of unbearable pleasure.

She gave him a moment to gather his breath, bracing her forearms on the stone around his head. Receiving the confused rhythm of his delirious kisses with a smile.

"Better?" She whispered.

"Huh...?" He mumbled, eyes struggling to focus on her.

"Nothing, beautiful." She smiled wide.

His lower lip trembled. Eyes finding hers again misty with tears.

"Hey, it's okay." She hushed. Kissing both of his cheeks. "Just take a breath."

He followed her instruction, training his chest full and empty with building determination.

"Good." She smiled, finally pulling off of him. He gave a guttural groan as she unsheathed him. Their joined cum ran down her thighs.

Retying her robe with little ceremony, she felt his gaze on her. Seeking.

"We'll be out soon. I think I hear them, actually." She encouraged, hearing distant movement of stone and calling of names.

"We're here!" She shouted with cupped hands.

She smiled at Karlach's muffled cheer.

Gale's focused stare never left her.

"Are you okay?" She creased her brows in concern.

He grasped the back of her head and pulled her into a passionate kiss. Forceful in a way she had never felt from him.

She moaned, a sweet little bleat, into the heat of it. Arms pressed to her chest, the backs of her fingers curled into her clavicle. Suddenly, soft and warm to his demands.

He pulled away with his hand cupping her jaw, staring down with intensity powerful enough to part the sea.

She stared back dumbfounded with gently parted lips.

"Come to my bed tonight." He commanded in a quiet voice.

"Okay." She whispered breathless.

He smiled as the wall behind them started to crack.

"Good girl."

#its been so long damn #gotta feed the gale girlies on occasion 🙂‍↕️#gale x tav #gale smut #bg3 smut #lyrics from: through the iris - 10 years

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satansapostle6 · 8 months ago

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love and blood | killian jones

The course of history is changed forever when a ruggedly charming pirate’s fate is intertwined with that of a dark sorceress more powerful than any he had ever encountered.

Warnings: Violence. Mature themes/language. Sexual content.

IV. Dark Ones

V. The Witch’s Champion

Killian Jones watched with curiosity as Gorgon the supposedly Invincible rose to his feet as he offered his services to the Blood Queen.

“Thank you for your allegiance, Gorgon,” her silky voice responded. “It will not go unrewarded.”

The sorceress slowly waved two bejeweled fingers in front of the man, as, just for a split second, all of the veins in his body seemingly glowed bright red with magic. Gorgon gasped in surprise, looking upon his savior with an almost naive sense of wonder.

“What have you done?” he asked her.

“It would appear I’ve removed that nasty blood curse of yours,” she provided, only to be met with confusion. “I have a knack for that sort of magic,” she explained.

“I don’t understand,” Gorgon breathed, “No sorcerer, or sorceress, of course, has eved been able to find a cure for the curse placed upon me.”

“Like I said; blood magic is kind of my specialty,” Carmilla remarked coyly.

“An understatement,” the man stared. “Your gift is quite remarkable.”

“And now, you, too, are free to use your gift,” she reminded him.

Hook instinctively looked to his companion for an explanation, not knowing much about this Gorgon character.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Gorgon told her.

“Back when those hunters were stalking you… You took the form of a pheasant. That blood curse that was placed upon you, it made it so that you were unable to control what form you take, or when. I’ve made it so that not only are you free of that curse, but you’re free to harness your ability to take whatever shape you desire,” she answered.

“My fair lady!” Gorgon gasped. “If what you say is true, I owe you more than I could ever repay!”

“As I said before. You owe me nothing,” Carmilla promised, “Except, of course, your services as my champion.”

“Anything,” he nodded quickly. “Now. Tell me more about this for that plagues you.”

Hook stood by Carmilla’s side as the bird remained perched on her shoulder, anxiously awaiting the development of this particular endeavor. He was slowly growing tired of Gorgon and his relentless flattery.

“The man I wish to defeat is a very powerful sorcerer; the most powerful,” she replied. “He holds the title of ‘Dark One’.”

Hook watched Gorgon’s reaction and realized this meant nothing to him. This should be interesting, he thought.

“His powers are unique?” Gorgon considered.

Carmilla nodded. “Very much so. He is, as you’ve probably gathered, a conduit of darkness itself. He’s powerful, immortal, and can only be killed by one weapon.”

“And where do we find this weapon?” Gorgon asked readily.

Hook could tell Carmilla was loving his vigilance on her behalf. It was very convenient.

“That’s the tricky part; he keeps it safely guarded,” she stated, “He’s never far from it.”

“And there’s no other weapon that can kill him?”

“Even if there was, it’s imperative you kill him with his dagger,” she emphasized, “Because if you kill him with that dagger, you take his place as Dark One.”

Gorgon considered this for a moment, processing everything he’d just heard.

“I’d be immortal?” he asked her.

Carmilla nodded. “You’d be more powerful than any sorcerer in all the realms. Including myself.”

“Forgive me for asking, my lady,” he began, “But I don’t quite see why you need me. Would it not be better if you simply killed this ‘Dark One’ yourself, and took his place?”

Hook raised an eyebrow as he turned to Carmilla, fully aware that whatever she was about to tell this man was a complete lie; Carmilla needed a champion to kill Dunstan for her and take the mantle of Dark One purely because even she knew, in all her vindictive and power-hungry glory, that the title of Dark one was not one to be coveted.

“You see, Gorgon, I’ve already come quite close to achieving immortality, as well as eternal youth,” she explained, not yet lying. “I’m over a thousand years old, for starters.”

Gorgon was at the point of shamelessly open-mouth staring at her.

“Y-You’re a thousand years old?!” he blurted out.

“Yes, I am,” she nodded, “You see, I chose to seek out a knight in shining armor, so to speak, because I have already harnessed my power. Now, it’s your turn. To become the fearsome shapeshifter you were always meant to be, and to fulfill your destiny as the next and final Dark One,” she finished with a sweet, deceptive smile.

The enticing look on her face was completely foreign to Hook. He even started to wonder if Carmella truly was completely honest with him solely because it seemed this is what it looked like when she lied.

“‘Fearsome’?” he wondered. “I could truly become Gorgon the Invincible?”

“You can, mate,” Hook nodded. “All you have to do is come with us.”

Gorgon thought for a moment, never having been faced with such a choice in his life.

“These shapeshifting powers… They’ve never made the others see me as any sort of champion,” he thought. “I’ve only ever been an outcast; a monster, or a weakling.”

“That all changes today,” Carmilla promised. “Now that your curse is lifted, you don’t have to live in fear. You don’t have to be the helpless pheasant anymore; you could choose to be whatever you like. A flighty hawk, a noble steed, or even a fire-breathing wart hog; whatever it is your heart desires.”

“A fire-breathing wart hog?” Gorgon pondered.

“Sky’s the limit,” Hook nodded.

It only took him a moment to side with Carmilla.

“I will do as you ask, my lady,” Gorgon announced with resolved, hand over his heart. “I will become the next Dark One.”

“Oh, I know you will,” Carmilla agreed, grinning uncontrollably.

*****

After a bit of coaching, Gorgon was able to used his newly discovered magical abilities to transport himself, Carmilla, and Hook to his home in the blink of an eye in a cloud of emerald green smoke. He had insisted upon preparing a meal for her his guests, which left Hook and Carmilla to sit at his table, which was large enough for four but was used to sitting one.

“Might I ask you something, Carmilla?” Hook piped up after a moment.

“If I said no, I’m sure you’d just ask anyway,” she reasoned pointedly.

“Fair enough.”

“So ask,” she said impatiently.

“Back there, in the forest,” he began, having been contemplating for a while. “You were able to rid Gorgon, a shapeshifter, of his curse.”

“I was.”

“So, why were you never able to cure Col?” Hook wondered.

He watched Carmilla’s jaw clench as the raven cawed quietly, head turned towards her. This was one of the moments where Hook particularly wished he could understand the bird. Carmilla lightly cleared her throat before speaking.

“The witch who cursed him knew my magic well,” she answered, surprising earnestly.

There was no petty irritation or sarcasm in her words.

“She knew that if she cursed him using blood magic, I would never be able to undo it. No matter what I did. The magic she was able to do was, admittedly, impressive. Even to me. Powerful stuff,” she confessed. “Not only did she make the curse impermeable, but… she managed to tether it to his life force.”

“How do you mean?” Killian asked quietly.

He watched the discomfort appear on her face for a split second before she composed herself.

“Even if I did find a way to break Col’s curse…” Carmilla told him.

He frowned sympathetically.

“He’d die.”

Her story finally made everything make sense to Hook. Now, it made even more sense to him. Carmilla, the all-powerful blood magic practitioner, couldn’t break the curse that plagued her husband because he’d die if she did. She kept him alive in his cursed raven form only because it was better than losing him altogether. The story, he thought, truly was a tragic one.

“So now you understand,” Carmilla read the expression of pity on his face, “Why his curse is the only one I cannot break.”

He nodded sadly, trying to come up with something better to offer. He looked at her, with Col sitting perched on her shoulder. The bird refused to look at her now, and even though to him it was just a bird, Killian Jones still knew the look of a man who resented his wife.

“How about we digress,” he suggested, his demeanor more playful once again, “And I ask you the other question on my mind.”

“By all means,” Carmilla allowed, seeming somewhat withdrawn.

“Why, pray tell,” Hook leaned in as he stared into her dark eyes, “Wouldn’t you, a powerful sorceress, jump at the opportunity to become the Dark One?” he murmured.

Carmilla just laughed at the idea. “Why, pirate?” she said mockingly. “Do I not frighten you enough?”

“Oh, you frighten me plenty,” he assured her. “I just don’t understand why that kind of unlimited power, and unbridled dark magic wouldn’t appeal to you.”

“Simple,” she murmured, careful to make sure Gorgon wasn’t in earshot. “I’m powerful; perhaps one of the most powerful practitioners of magic in all the realms. I’ve lived for over a thousand years all on my own. Becoming the Dark One would make the dagger my weakness, and I simply don’t need one of those,” she replied simply.

Hook understood her point, agreeing that it was prudent of her not to choose to become the Dark One, as convenient as it would be for him in his quest to exact his revenge upon the current Dark One in their time, Rumplestiltskin.

#killian jones #killian jones x reader #captain hook x reader #captain hook #captain hook ouat #colin o'donoghue #hook x reader #ouat #ouat hook

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