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brunchable · 2 months

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Untamed Chaos [Request] || Doctor Strange x Scarlet Witch!reader.

Genre: Oneshot, Light-hearted romance, Teacher/Student Words: 5.4K The Request: a fanfic where the reader is Scarlet Witch and she is very insecure and afraid of her powers and Stephen Strange helps her control her powers. A/N: First request in such a long time. I mayhaps liked this idea a bit too much I got carried away but I hope it can make someone's day. Thank you to the GIF creator. For @honeymoon-salvatore

You've always been afraid of your powers. They are immense, unpredictable, and often seem to have a will of their own. It wasn't until the incident in your hometown that you truly understood the magnitude of your abilities.

You had only meant to defend yourself, but in the blink of an eye, the entire street had been engulfed in a swirling vortex of energy, leaving destruction in its wake. The fear and confusion in the eyes of those around you still haunt your dreams.

Since then, you've kept your distance from people, isolating yourself to prevent any further harm. Your powers feel like a ticking time bomb, always on the verge of exploding.

You can't control them, not fully, and the unpredictability is what scares you the most. One moment, you could be sitting peacefully, and the next, you could be unintentionally causing objects to levitate or shatter around you.

You've tried to manage them on your own, practicing in secret, but the progress has been slow and often discouraging. Each failed attempt chips away at your confidence, leaving you feeling more vulnerable and isolated. The frustration builds within you, feeding into the fear, creating a vicious cycle that's hard to break.

You often find yourself alone, both physically and emotionally. The isolation is a double-edged sword; it keeps others safe from your powers, but it also leaves you without support, without someone to reassure you that you're not a monster. You yearn for connection, for someone to understand your struggle, but the risk of hurting someone is too great. The potential destruction you could cause keeps you at a distance, even from those you care about the most.

In moments of despair, you imagine a life where your powers are not a curse but a gift, where you can use them without fear. But those are just dreams, far removed from your current reality. Every day is a battle against yourself, against the fear that one wrong move could lead to disaster. You live with the constant reminder that you are different, that you are dangerous, and that there might never be a place for you in the world as you are.

Despite the fear and the isolation, there's a flicker of hope within you. A hope that maybe, just maybe, someone out there can help you. Someone who understands what it's like to wield such power and can guide you in controlling it. This hope leads you to the doors of the Sanctum Sanctorum, but standing there, you hesitate. Your hand hovers over the grand door, and a wave of shame washes over you. What if Doctor Strange sees you as a lost cause? What if he thinks you're too dangerous to be helped?

× × × ×

As you approach the grand doors, your heart races with anticipation. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself before knocking firmly. The sound echoes in the silence, and the massive doors creak open seemingly on their own, revealing the grand entrance hall bathed in dim, mystical light.

At the top of the sweeping staircase, Stephen stands tall, his presence commanding and imposing. His cape flows dramatically behind him, catching the light in a way that makes it seem almost alive.

“Ah, I’ve been expecting you,” he says with a knowing smile.

“Expecting me?” you ask, chuckling sheepishly. You can’t shake the feeling of shame that lingers, making you want to shrink away.

“Yes. I could sense your presence,” he replies, descending the stairs. “And besides, you’re not exactly subtle.”

You manage a small, nervous laugh, looking down at your feet. “I actually came to ask for your help, Doctor Strange. My powers… they’re out of control. I-I don’t know how to handle them.”

“Hmm.” Stephen nods, his expression turning serious but not unkind. “Come with me. Let’s see what we can do.”

As he turns to lead you deeper into the Sanctum, you can't help but blurt out, “Are we starting already?”

Stephen glances back at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “No, we're going to have a tea party first. What do you think?”

You roll your eyes but feel a bit of the tension ease away. “Very funny.”

“I thought so,” he replies with a smirk, leading you to the doors that lead to Kamar-Taj.

The morning air at Kamar-Taj is crisp and fresh, the early sunlight casting a warm glow over the ancient courtyard. Birds chirp in the distance as you and Stephen stand in the center of the tranquil space.

“First things first,” he says, “Do you know the true nature of your powers?”

You nod, feeling a familiar weight settle on your shoulders. “I know. But I don’t know how to control them. It’s like trying to tame a storm.”

He nods, seeming to have expected that answer. “Your powers are unlike any other. They’re rooted in something very ancient and very potent—chaos magic.”

“How do I control something that’s inherently chaotic?” You sigh, looking down at your hands, a flicker of crimson energy dancing across your fingertips.

“By understanding it, accepting it, and learning to channel it. It’s not about suppressing your emotions, but rather, learning to use them to your advantage.” Stephen steps closer, his voice gentle but firm.

“That’s easier said than done.” You scoff, frustration coloring your voice.

Stephen raises an eyebrow. “Is it? Or are you just making excuses?”

You glare at him, but there is no malice in your eyes. “You’re really good at this comforting thing, aren’t you?”

"I try," he says with a smirk, “Look Y/N you came here asking for my help. I know the media doesn’t really paint you. . . gracefully. So, from now on try not to let your self-doubt eat you up.”

You look down. Even though that was a hard pill to swallow, he was right.

“Come with me.” He leads you to a secluded area of the courtyard, where ancient runes are etched into the stone floor.

“This area should have ample space to practice powerful magic. It will be a safe place for you to practice control.”

You nod, taking a deep breath to steady yourself.

“First, we’ll start with some basic exercises. Focus on your breathing, and let your mind clear. Feel the energy within you, but don’t try to control it yet—just observe.” Stephen begins to demonstrate, weaving his hands through the air, creating intricate patterns of golden light.

You close your eyes, following his instructions. You can feel the familiar hum of your powers beneath your skin, a constant presence that you're trying to grow accustomed to. Slowly, you begin to breathe in rhythm with the energy, letting it flow through you without trying to shape it.

“Good, you learn quickly.” Stephen’s voice breaks through your concentration. “Now, open your eyes and focus on a single point in front of you. Imagine your energy flowing towards that point, like a stream of water.”

You do as he says, but suddenly, a surge of power rushes through you, causing your body to twitch while you attempt to contain it. Your eyes snap open in panic. Your powers spiral out of control. Crimson energy begins to swirl around you, leaves and dust spiraling around leaving you at its center. The ground trembles, and a strong wind whips through the trees around you.

"Dammit!" you shout, sinking to your knees as you try to contain the chaos. "I can’t do this, Doctor. It’s too much."

Before you can even process what's happening, Stephen is already moving, his hands weaving complex patterns in the air. Golden bands of light appear, encircling the wild energy and containing it. Sweat beads on his forehead from the effort, but his eyes remain focused and determined.

“Stay with me, Y/N,” he calls out, his voice straining as he tries to contain your powers. “You can do this. Focus on my voice.”

You try to calm your racing heart, taking deep breaths as you attempt to regain control. The golden bands tighten around the chaotic energy, slowly but surely bringing it under control.

Finally, the room falls silent, the wild energy dissipating into the air. Stephen kneels beside you, his hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he says softly. “It’s okay to struggle. You’re learning, and that takes time.”

You look up at him, your eyes glistening, “What if I hurt someone? What if I hurt you in the process?”

“You won’t,” he assures you, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Relax, it’s okay. You’re safe.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. ��I’m sorry, Stephen. It just… it just got away from me.”

He smiles reassuringly. “It’s all part of the process. Let’s try again.”

You picture the crimson energy within you, flowing outwards in a controlled stream. To your surprise, the energy responds, a thin tendril of red mist extending from your hand and touching the ground where you’re looking.

“Excellent. Now, try to maintain that flow, but gradually increase the intensity.” Stephen smiles, clearly pleased with your progress.

You concentrate, feeling the energy surge within you. The tendril of light thickens, glowing brighter as more power flows through it. You can feel the wildness of the chaos magic, but it no longer feels overwhelming—it’s like riding a powerful wave, guiding it with subtle movements.

“Remember, your emotions are your fuel,” Stephen reminds you. “Channel your focus, your determination, and your control into the magic.”

You nod, feeling a growing confidence. The energy flows more smoothly now, the thread of light dancing in intricate patterns at your command. It’s exhilarating, feeling the power within you and knowing that you’re in control.

“Alright,” Stephen says, taking a step back, his expression serious. “Now, let’s test your control under pressure. I’ll create some moving targets, and I want you to hit them with precise bursts of energy.”

He raises his hands, and several glowing orbs appear, floating in a precise formation. They begin to move, weaving through the air in unpredictable patterns. “Focus, Y/N. Use your emotions to guide your power.”

You take a deep breath, focusing on the first target. You extend your hand, and a tendril of crimson light shoots out, striking the orb dead center. It shatters in a burst of golden sparks.

Stephen nods approvingly. “Good. Now, try the next one.”

You move to the second target, feeling a surge of confidence. This time, you channel a stronger burst of energy, the crimson light brighter and more intense. The orb explodes, scattering shards of light in all directions.

As you continue, the targets move faster, their patterns more erratic. You struggle to keep up, the energy within you becoming harder to control. Sweat beads on your forehead, and your breath comes in shallow gasps.

“Stay focused,” Stephen encourages.

But the pressure mounts, and the chaos magic within you begins to surge again. One of the targets moves unexpectedly close to Stephen, and in a moment of panic, you release a powerful burst of energy.

The crimson tendril lashes out, striking Stephen’s arm before you can stop it. He stumbles back, a pained expression crossing his face as blood begins to seep from a cut on his arm.

“Oh my god, Stephen!” you cry out his name accidentally, rushing to his side. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

“Don't. It was an accident.” He grits his teeth, his hand applying pressure to the wound.

You remained quiet, even though guilt is a close friend of yours, it still felt corrosive.

× × ×

The morning training session had taken a turn you hadn’t anticipated. Now, sitting in the quiet, dimly lit infirmary at Kamar-Taj, the reality of your lack of control weighs heavily on you. Stephen sits on a low bench, his shirt discarded to reveal a nasty gash on his arm, inflicted by your uncontrolled magic.

His Cloak of Levitation hovers nearby, holding the first aid kit with its hem, seeming to watch over him protectively.

“Let’s get this cleaned up,” Stephen says, his voice smooth despite the pain. He gestures to the hovering Cloak, which gently extends the first aid kit towards you. “Can you take the antiseptic and bandages?”

You quickly reach for the items, your hands shaking slightly. “I’m so sorry.”

“Y/N, it’s okay,” he interrupts gently, a small smile playing on his lips despite the grimace of pain.

“Let me help.” You kneel beside him, the sight of the deep cut making your stomach churn. The Cloak hovers closer, as if wanting to assist but unsure how. Stephen takes the antiseptic from you, but you gently place your hand over his.

He nods, relinquishing the bottle.

You pour the antiseptic onto a cloth and carefully dab it on the wound. Stephen hisses, his muscles tensing under your touch. His skin is warm, the contours of his body highlighted in the soft light of the infirmary. You try to focus on the task at hand, but it’s hard not to notice how close you are, how vulnerable he seems.

“Sorry,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

He reaches out with his uninjured hand, gently tilting your chin up so you meet his eyes. “Y/N, it was an accident. I know you wouldn't mean to hurt me.”

You nod, feeling a bit more at ease with his reassurance. Carefully, you finish cleaning the wound and reach for the bandages. The Cloak, as if sensing your need, floats closer, offering the bandages to you from its folds.

As you wrap the bandage around his arm, you can’t help but ask, “Does it hurt a lot?”

“I’ve had worse. Much worse.”

You can’t help but smile at his attempt to lighten the mood. “Well, you’re lucky I didn’t turn you into a frog or something.”

Stephen laughs, the sound filling the small infirmary. “I think I'd rather handle a few cuts and bruises. But I appreciate the concern.”

“There. All done.” You finish wrapping the bandage and tie it off, your fingers lingering on his skin for a moment longer than necessary.

Stephen flexes his arm slightly, testing the bandage, “Now I have a new scar to show off. Women dig scars, right?”

“Well, it certainly adds to your mystique.” You laugh, the sound a bit shaky but genuine.

He chuckles, standing up and pulling you to your feet with his good arm, “Go get some rest and clear your mind. Don't wallow too much on this. Really, I'm fine.”

× × × ×

The days turn into weeks. You find yourself growing more confident in your abilities, but there are still moments where the fear and frustration overwhelm you. Stephen’s consistent support and guidance have been invaluable, and you've begun to see glimpses of what your powers could be if fully controlled. However, the road to mastery is far from smooth.

One afternoon, while practicing a particularly challenging spell, your powers spiral out of control. The room around you blurs as a surge of energy erupts from within, sending you flying across the room. You crash into a stone wall with a sickening thud, the impact knocking the wind out of you. Pain radiates from your shoulder as you realize it’s dislocated. Before you can even catch your breath, you hear a creaking sound above you and look up to see a massive pillar beginning to topple over.

Panic courses through you, but before you can react, a burst of golden light encases the pillar, stopping it mid-fall. You turn to see Stephen, his hands outstretched and eyes glowing with a focused intensity as he uses his magic to stabilize the structure.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice steady despite the obvious strain.

You nod, still dazed from the impact. “I... I think so,” you stammer, though the pain in your shoulder is excruciating.

He waves his hands, and the pillar rights itself, settling back into place with a groan of stone against stone. Only then does he turn his full attention to you, his expression softening as he kneels beside you.

“You scared the hell out of me,” he admits, “Let me see your shoulder.”

You wince as he gently examines it. “I think it’s dislocated,” you say through gritted teeth.

Stephen nods, his expression serious. “We need to fix this. It’s going to hurt, but I’ll make it as quick as possible.”

You brace yourself, biting your lip as he carefully but firmly maneuvers your shoulder back into place. A sharp, intense pain shoots through you, and you can’t help but cry out. But just as quickly as the pain flares, it begins to subside as Stephen’s magic soothes the injured area.

"Better?" he asks, his voice gentle.

You nod, tears of pain and relief streaming down your face. "Thank you," you whisper, leaning against him for support.

Stephen clenched his jaw when he suddenly felt his heart racing. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close. “You’re incredibly brave, you know that?”

You manage a small, shaky laugh. “I don’t feel very brave.”

He pulls back slightly to look into your eyes, his expression earnest. “You are. You’re facing your fears and pushing through the pain. That takes real courage.”

“I couldn’t do this without you, Stephen.” Tears well up in your eyes again, this time from gratitude and the overwhelming emotion of the moment, “Thank you.”

He smiles softly, brushing a tear from your cheek. “You’re not alone. We’ll get you there.”

After that grueling session, you collapse onto a sofa in the library, exhausted. It was worth every sweat though as you felt being more in control compared to when you first set foot in the Sanctum.

“Here, this will help,” Stephen joins you, handing you a cup of tea and sitting down beside you.

You take a sip, the warmth of the tea soothing your frayed nerves. “Thanks,” you murmur, glancing at him. “For everything.”

He smiles, his gaze warm. “It’s my pleasure.”

A comfortable silence settles between you, the flickering firelight casting soft shadows around the room. The warmth from the fire is a stark contrast to the chill in the air outside, and you pull a blanket tighter around yourself as you sip the tea Stephen prepared. The aroma of the tea mingles with the scent of old books and the faint trace of incense, creating an atmosphere that feels both intimate and soothing.

You find yourself drawn to Stephen, not just because of his wisdom and strength, but because of the kindness and patience he shows you every day. His presence has become a source of comfort, a steady anchor in the tumultuous sea of your emotions and powers. Yet, as the days pass, you've also become acutely aware of the growing attraction you have for him. Maybe because you never knew about this side of Stephen.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, admiring the way the firelight dances across his features, casting shadows that highlight the sharp angles of his face. There's a certain grace to the way he moves, even in the simplest of actions like turning the pages of a book or adjusting his cloak. You wonder if he's aware of how often your eyes linger on him, how your heart races whenever he looks at you with those piercing blue eyes.

Stephen breaks the silence, his voice low and gentle. “You've been making remarkable progress. You should be proud of yourself.”

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “I couldn't have done it without you,” you admit, your gaze meeting his. “You've been my rock through all of this.”

He chuckles softly, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. “I'm just doing what any decent teacher would do.”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “It's more than that. You've been patient and understanding, even when I wanted to give up.”

Stephen's eyes soften, and he reaches out, placing a hand over yours. The touch is light, but it sends a jolt of electricity through you.

“You have an incredible strength within you,” he says quietly. “Sometimes it just takes someone else to help you see it.”

Your breath catches in your throat, the intensity of his gaze making it hard to look away. You can feel the tension building between you, a magnetic pull that draws you closer. The room feels smaller, the air charged with unspoken emotions.

"Stephen," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, "I... I don't know how to thank you for everything you've done."

He smiles, a tender expression that makes your heart skip a beat. "You don't need to thank me," he replies. "Seeing you grow and gain confidence is thanks enough."

The fire crackles, filling the silence that stretches between you. You can feel your pulse quicken, your mind racing with thoughts and emotions. You want to tell him how much he means to you, how his presence has become a source of light in your life. But the words stick in your throat, your nerves getting the better of you.

As if sensing your hesitation, Stephen moves closer, his hand still resting on yours. "It's okay," he murmurs. "You don't have to say anything."

You weren’t sure if you were hallucinating, but you felt him drawing closer to you, his breath heavy and hot. The space between you seemed to shrink with each passing second, your heart pounding louder in your ears. His eyes, intense and unwavering, locked onto yours, creating a magnetic pull that you couldn't resist.

Your mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions—anticipation, fear, desire—all blending into a heady mix that left you breathless. His presence was overwhelming, his scent intoxicating, and you felt an inexplicable connection that seemed to transcend the physical space.

Stephen’s hand brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. His touch was both gentle and commanding, grounding you in the moment. You could see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, mirroring your own. Despite the chaos surrounding you, this moment felt strangely right.

He leaned in, his lips just inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin. You could feel the tension building, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this suspended moment of longing and vulnerability.

Just as his lips were about to meet yours, the sound of footsteps echoed through the room. You both jumped apart, hearts racing, as Wong entered, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Wong said, raising an eyebrow. “But there’s an urgent matter that requires your attention, Strange.”

Stephen cleared his throat, taking a step back and running a hand through his hair, trying to regain his composure. “Of course, Wong. I’ll be right there.”

Wong nodded, glancing between the two of you with a knowing smile before leaving the room.

You exchanged a look with Stephen, the moment between you lingering in the air. He gave you a small, apologetic smile.

“We’ll continue this later,” he promised, his voice soft and filled with a mix of regret and hope.

You nodded, your heart still pounding. “I’ll hold you to that.”

As Stephen turned to follow Wong, you couldn’t help but feel a mixture of excitement and apprehension. The connection you felt with him was undeniable, and despite the interruption, you knew that this was just the beginning of something deeper and more profound.

The door closed behind Stephen and Wong, and the room was left in a charged silence. You could still feel the lingering warmth of his presence, the ghost of his touch on your skin. Your mind replayed the moment over and over, heart racing of anticipation.

You sighed and turned towards the window, trying to steady your breath as you watched the city lights twinkle below. The weight of what had just happened, what almost happened, settled over you like a warm blanket. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

A few moments later, you decided to distract yourself by focusing on your training. You knew Stephen would handle whatever urgent matter Wong had brought to his attention, but you needed to regain your composure. The Sanctum's library was quiet and filled with ancient texts and artifacts, a perfect place to lose yourself in study.

You selected a tome on elemental magic, hoping the intricate spells would keep your mind occupied. As you read, the words began to blur, your thoughts drifting back to Stephen. His intense gaze, the way his touch had sent shivers down your spine, and the unspoken promise in his eyes.

Suddenly, a soft knock on the door brought you back to reality. You looked up to see Stephen standing there, his expression a mix of determination and something else—something softer.

“Hey,” he said, stepping into the room. “Sorry about earlier. Wong has impeccable timing, as usual.”

You chuckled, setting the book aside. “It's okay. I understand. Is everything alright?”

He nodded, taking a seat beside you. “Yes, just some minor mystical disturbance. Nothing we couldn't handle.”

A comfortable silence settled between you again, but this time it was tinged with a palpable tension. You could feel the unresolved moment hanging in the air, drawing you closer together. Stephen reached out, taking your hand in his. His touch was warm, reassuring.

“I meant what I said,” he began softly, his eyes locking onto yours. “About continuing this later. I don't want to rush things, but I also don't want to ignore what's happening between us.”

Your heart skipped a beat, his words sending a rush of warmth through you. “I feel the same way, Stephen. It’s actually, kind of. . . really hard to ignore. . .”

Stephen stood and offered you his hand. “Come with me. There's something I want to show you.”

Curious, you took his hand and followed him through the winding corridors of the Sanctum. He led you to a secluded terrace, the city spread out below like a sea of stars. The cool night air was refreshing, and the view was breathtaking.

“This is my favorite spot,” he said, leaning against the railing. “It's where I come to think, to clear my mind.”

You joined him, the two of you standing side by side, looking out over the city. “It's beautiful,” you whispered.

He turned to you, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions. “You make it even more beautiful,” he said softly.

Before you can respond, he leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. The world around you seems to vanish as his lips move against yours, firm yet tender, igniting a fire within you. You respond eagerly, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer.

The kiss deepens, growing more urgent and intense. Stephen's arms wrap around your waist, drawing you flush against him, his body warm and solid against yours. You can feel the heat radiating off him, mingling with the crackling energy of your powers, which glow softly around you both, bathing you in a crimson light.

His lips part slightly, and you take the opportunity to explore his mouth with your tongue, eliciting a low groan from him that sends a shiver down your spine. Stephen's hands roam your back, his touch firm and possessive, as if he never wants to let you go. Every touch, every movement sends waves of desire coursing through you.

You press closer, the feeling of his body against yours heightening your senses. His hand slides up to the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair, pulling you even deeper into the kiss. The intensity builds, and you feel as though you might melt from the heat of it all.

Breaking the kiss for a moment, Stephen's lips trail down your jawline, planting soft, lingering kisses along the way. You tilt your head back, giving him better access, and he takes full advantage, his mouth finding the sensitive spot just below your ear. His warm breath against your skin sends a thrill through you, and you can't help but moan softly

“Stephen,” you whisper, your voice breathless and filled with longing.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark with desire as he gazes at you. “Y/N, I need you,” he says, his voice rough with emotion.

Without another word, you pull him back to you, your lips crashing together in a passionate kiss. You pour all your pent-up emotions into it, the fear, the longing, the love. When you kiss Stephen, the energy around you seems to respond to your emotions, wrapping around the two of you in a protective cocoon of light. His hands grip your waist, and you feel the familiar surge of your powers, the crimson The light shimmers and sparkles, creating a captivating dance of colors that is reflecting the intensity of your connection.

Breathless and flushed, you finally pull away, resting your forehead against his. His eyes, dark and filled with emotion, hold your gaze, and you see your reflection in them, your powers glowing softly around you both.

“I'm so happy you came to me,” Stephen whispers, his voice low and sincere, “And now that I have you, I never want to let you go.”

You smile, feeling a warm sense of certainty. “You don't have to, l'm yours.”

He kisses you again, this time with a gentleness that speaks volumes. It's a promise of unwavering support and love. The crimson energy around you pulses gently, a testament to your newfound control and the harmony between your powers and your emotions.

As you stand there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, you realize that this is just the beginning. With Stephen’s guidance and your own growing confidence, you’re ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead.

The night air is cool, but the warmth between you keeps the chill at bay. You lean into Stephen, your heart steady and sure. With him by your side, you know you can handle anything the future holds.

Stephen pulls back slightly, a mischievous glint in his eye. “You know,” he says with a smirk, “if you wanted to spend more time together, you could have just asked instead of throwing books around.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, so now my out-of-control powers are just an excuse to see you more?”

He raises an eyebrow, still smirking. “I wouldn't put it past you.”

“Well, maybe next time I'll aim for the kitchen. Then at least we can have snacks while we train.” You roll your eyes playfully.

Stephen chuckles, pulling you closer. “Deal. But only if you promise to keep the chaos to a minimum.”

“I'll try,” you say, grinning. “But no promises.”

He smiles, his eyes softening. “That's good enough for me.”

Together, you step back into the Sanctum, ready to embrace the future and the challenges it brings, knowing that with each other, you are unstoppable.

As you walk through the grand halls, Stephen's hand remains firmly in yours, a silent promise of support and partnership.

“So,” Stephen begins, glancing sideways at you with a sly smile, “what's the next item on our agenda? More power control exercises or should we finally tackle the mystery of the enchanted teapot?”

You laugh, the sound echoing softly in the spacious hallway. “I think the teapot can wait. Besides, I’m pretty sure it's been spying on us for weeks.”

“That would explain a lot. It's always the quiet ones you have to watch out for.” Stephen chuckles.

You squeeze his hand, feeling a sense of normalcy and contentment that you haven’t felt in a long time. “You know, this whole training thing isn’t so bad when you have good company.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Good company, huh? I suppose I should take that as a compliment.”

“Don’t let it go to your head, Doctor,” you tease, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. “But seriously, thank you. For everything.”

Stephen stops walking and turns to face you, his expression sincere. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m just glad I could help. You’ve shown incredible strength and courage, Y/N. And I’m honored to be part of your journey.”

A warmth spreads through you at his words, and you lean in to kiss him softly. “Well, you’re stuck with me now, Sorcerer Supreme. Hope you’re ready for that.”

He grins, a boyish charm lighting up his features. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

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lilstephenlover · 11 months

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Wong: how much longer are we going to let them do that? Stephen: *rubbing the bridge of his nose* just... just give him a minute Y/N: *still pushing the doors of sanctum that are clearly labeled pull*

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stupidthoughtsinwriting · 6 months

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Glimpse of Us

Summary: Years after the faithful night, reality brings the two back together, with all the years of unresolved pain, feelings and comparisons

Warning: Angst is all the warning I can think off ehehhe, Hard core Angst

Note: ehehehehe the long awaited sequel to She use to be mine is finally here! After what? nearly 2 years. its finally here! I'm so sorry for the long wait and thank you to those who encouraged me to continue on with the next part. I won't dawdle on and let you lot enjoy the concoction i seem to have mustered on. ehehe again sorry for the months delay.

oh and i almost forgot, the italics are best imagined as her singing

P.S. I drafted this post 7 or 8 months after the first part and dear god, how time has passed. Looking back at the story, I'm not really too proud of this one and ended it because I really have no idea how to continue it. I have an idea for a next part (dangerous words coming from me) but I'm not gonna set a date for when I post it because we all know how the last part turned out. Anyways enjoy

😊❤️💛💚💙💜🖤😊 -T

‘Hey, you’re up in five’`

‘Yah sure, just touching up’ you say as you smacked your lips after applying a bit of lip gloss.

‘You don’t need it’ he replied.

‘Still. I can’t believe I agreed to this’ you scoffed, fiddling with your hair for the hundredth time.

‘You’ll do great’ he smiled ‘Now your hair is fine, you look amazing, and I have to go. Break a leg’ he bid before getting on stage to rouse the crowd. Admittedly, you are nervous. You wouldn’t call yourself a singer, but you do have a good enough voice and can hold a tune. You knew it was a mistake singing in front of Harvey and you were only doing this as a favor. God. You checked the mirror one last time before finding it was good enough.

‘Now for tonight’s performance, A very dear friend of mine has agreed to perform tonight, though with a little bit of persuasion.’ Harvey mumbled the last part, getting a laugh from the crowd and a chuckle from yourself ‘She has a voice made by the gods above, though I don’t remember Thor being much of a singer. She can lure you in better than a siren, but I think that’s the other mythology’ he said cheekily.

‘Now, without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome a dear friend of mine, Y/N Y/L/N!’ he introduced, that being your cue to emerge from the curtain, you stepped on staged and made your way over to the middle where he and the mic was, the spotlight following your movement. You waved and smiled at the crowd, glad there wasn’t much. Grasping the mic, you chuckled as the small crowd continued to clap.

‘Hi everybody’ you began, getting a hello in response from the crowd ‘Wow, thank you for the warm welcome and thank you Harvey for that unrealistic introduction’ you chuckled with the crowd, turning to Harvey who waved you off.

‘Now, taking something off of Harvey’s speech, I am made by no god or am one. Nor am I a siren from the Greek mythology. It did take some persuading to get me to do this and hopefully I don’t regret it.’ You laughed sheepishly.

‘I don’t normally sing on stage or in public really unless it’s karaoke with friends, which by the way is how I got tricked into doing this, so pardon me if I seem a bit nervous’ you smile shyly. Glancing back at Harvey, with a smile on his face, he nodded, pushing you to continue. Pulling out the rest of the confidence you still had stored, you turned back beaming at the crowd.

‘Now to not keep you waiting any longer, Paul if you will’ you gestured to the man on the piano and he nods before gliding his fingers along the keys, playing the start of the song. Letting out a breath, you closed your eyes, feeling the rhythm of the piano before singing the lyrics. Grabbing hold of the mic, you opened your eyes and began.

He'd take the world off my shoulders

If it was ever hard to move

He'd turn the rain to a rainbow

When I was living in the blue

You let your eyes flutter to a close as you gripped the mic firmly. Swaying your body occasionally to melody.

Why then if he is so perfect

Do I still wish that it was you?

Perfect don't mean that it's working

So what can I do? Ooh

Opening your eyes, you scanned the crowd, completely surprised by how the much you can see of the crowd seemed entranced.

When you’re out of sight

You saw you’re your friends in a booth over on the corner, the people entering the establishment.

In my mind

Then the bar where you found him, staring at you. You locked eyes with those beautiful ocean blue orbs that you love loved so much. Stumbling over your words, you nearly forgot about the song but once the piano keys hit the right note, your lips continued in autopilot.

Cause sometimes I look… in his eyes

And that's where I find

A glimpse of us

Eyes leaving contact, you scanned his entirety. The grey streaks at his temples have grown longer since the last time you saw him. The old clean-shaven face he used to don had a goatee. Prominent lines and creases were evident in his features and really the years have aged him well. He wore a suit, complete with a vest, a red handkerchief in the breast pocket and everything. A glass of whiskey at his side and he was still as handsome as the day you left.

You closed your eyes once more, willing this to just be another trick or hallucination by your imagination. Though it was a horrid idea as memories of the day came back crashing onto you, you let them stay shut as you continued.

And I try to fall for his touch

But I'm thinking of the way it was

There you stood, as beautiful as the day he met you, if not more. In all your beauty, and the signature grin you adorned, you were radiant. Though the spotlight might have something to do with it, you were still a ray of sunshine through the darkest of clouds.

The rest of the world faded out to him and his mind finally faltered. There you were. Standing a few feet away as you introduced yourself. Your hair’s cut short, or at least shorter than the last time he’d seen you. Earrings hid behind your curls and the lightest bit of make-up was applied to your soft features. Though that didn’t hide the blossoming pink tint gracing your cheeks. Your lips glistened with the lip gloss you had on just like you use to. Smile lines drew at the corner of your eyes as you chuckled over your own words, explaining how you ended up in your current situation.

You always smiled, even when you were feeling down, you always smiled. Whether to hide what you were truly feeling or to just be nice to people, you always smiled. He nearly forgot how beautiful that smile was, with only his dreams used to recall that charming grin, since it has been a rarity for him to look you up or even open the box full of pictures during your years together. Even with the picture he kept in his nightstand, he rarely opened the drawer. Funny how this photographic memory of his nearly forgot the most beautiful piece of art he’s ever seen.

He listened to every single word you uttered as he looked and committed every single detail he could of you to memory. Your hair curled into soft waves, parted and pinned on one side. Your frame, fuller since the last time he saw your thin, nearly skeletal figure on that fateful night. You wore a wine-red wrap top that reached down to your wrists, paired with simple jeans and boots, you looked divine. The dip in the neckline of your shirt revealed the top of your cleavage but the gleaming gold necklace is what caught his attention. It was a simple gold bar plate though engraved with a heartbeat on one side. Common and a bit of a cliché now adays but what was special about that was it was an actual heartbeat. His. He gifted it to you when you both got accepted at Metro General. He explained that it was how his heart beat whenever he thought of you. As you tried to find the words to thank him, he made you turn it over to the other side to another engraving. You know I love you so, it said. A line from one of your favorite songs. He remembered how tears brimmed your eyes as you leaped to him, capturing his lip with yours.

What came as a shock to him now was that you were still wearing it. As he continued to look you over, the sound of your chuckle registered in his ears. God, he loves that sound. A sound he hasn’t heard long before you left. Looking back up to your face, he sees the girl he met all those years ago, buried under piles of books in the library on campus. The very same girl that chuckled at his horrible attempt at a flirtatious first introduction. A small smile tugged at his lips both at the memory and the sound. He hasn’t heard that sound in so long, it was a wonder when he heard it last. He just knew it was long before he fucked up and just chose to relish in the sweet sound now.

Now focusing and giving his undivided attention to your voice now, he listened.

‘I don’t normally sing on stage or in public really unless it’s karaoke with friends, which by the way is how I got tricked into doing this, so pardon me if I seem a bit nervous’ you laugh timidly. A chuckle bubbled at his throat as flashes of you singing whilst cooking in the kitchen of your tiny apartment came into view. Wearing nothing but his shirt as you flipped pancakes, singing from Coldplay to Queen at the top of your lungs or humming to Ed Sheeran whilst you worked and studied case filles.

He knew you enough to know that you were nervous, you didn’t have to say it. After all these years he still knew you better than the back of his scarred hands, heck better than he knows himself.

He saw you look to the side and his eyes followed, landing on the host from earlier. With a smile on his face, he nodded, giving you the reassurance you needed to continue with your performance. And it did, he saw how you pulled the last of your confidence before turning back to the crowd.

A pang of jealousy shot through him as he watched. I mean what did he expect, for you to be alone after all these years. A stupidly selfish part of him even hoped that you’d be waiting for him. To get his act together and you’d be back together. It was incredibly stupid; he knew that but that didn’t stop the creeping grip of jealousy from grasping his heart. As much as he knew how selfish the thought is, that didn’t stop the pain and hurt he felt seeing you look for reassurance in another man. Even after all these years.

The smile he had drawn up earlier had faded to a look of melancholy. It was good you had someone, he thought. Someone to be there for whenever you needed them the most, unlike him.

He watched as you turned and gestured to the pianist who nodded and started to fiddle with the keys. He watched as you took a breath, closed your eyes and began to sway to the smooth melody of the music. A small grin was itching at your lips. You were always more comfortable whenever listening to music and this was evident, unbeknownst to you.

Then you started to sing. You opened your eyes, took a firm grip at the mic and the lyrics just came dripping smoothly from your lips. That melodic voice of yours that he loves so much reminded him of the early mornings in the kitchen, the concerts in the shower and the lullabies to the kids under your care. Little did you know but the sound of your sweet voice always comforted him during the hardest times. He didn’t ask you to sing directly but he always listened whenever you hummed a simple tune or sang a song from some Disney movie to calm the kids in peds ward.

He took in every word that came from your lips. From what he’s heard so far from the first verse, it was about how the man lightened and took away the burden and sorrows the singer felt. The way you sang the song, it was beautiful. It was as if you were truly meaning the words that left your lips and he couldn’t help but feel the envy creeping back up at him, though at the same time, he’s conflicted with relief. He didn’t know if you’ve had someone during the past couple of years but as hurt as he is at the prospect of you with somebody else, it sort of gave him a sense of comfort thinking that you were getting taken care off. It eased some of the weight he felt and often times he thought maybe it was good that you separated. All he'd done with you the last few months of your relationship was hurt and neglect you and if you ever found someone that remedied that, maybe it was for the best that you left.

He watched your eyes flutter to a close again. The way your body moved to the melody of the music completely hypnotized him that his drink was deemed long forgotten.

Why then if he is so perfect, Do I still wish that it was you?

At those words, for some reason that gave him hope. He didn’t know if it was just the song but really, just the way you sang it made it seem all too genuine. He still loves you; he knew that very well. He also knows that he had a better chance in coming up with a new strategy in defeating Thanos (despite the many but one failed attempts he saw using the time stone), than ever getting back in a relationship with you.

You are the most kind, caring and understanding person he knew but you were also stubborn. He might have the chance in getting to apologize and to ask for forgiveness, but a relationship was a billion to one cosmic fluke. Though that didn’t stop him from wondering if you meant those words.

You opened your eyes and continued with the song. He noticed you looking at the growing mass of people watching. From the corner booths to the door, he knew from that growing look at your face that you were surprised to say the least at how many were captivated by your performance.

Then you met his gaze. Those soft blues meeting that beautiful shade of your own eyes. God, how much he loved those shining y/e/c orbs could never be put into words. How they twinkle in the light. The comfort and understanding they held and how they always seem to know he felt.

When he woke up from the crash, the first thing he longed to find were your eyes. The warmth, comfort and security they held, he ached to see those beautiful orbs because for the briefest moments he forgot everything but you. You were his main thought. He forgot about the fight, the neglectful months before, the pale, emaciated figure of yours that haunts his dreams, everything. Only the kind, gorgeous face of the woman he fell for all those years ago stayed in his mind because whenever he thought of comfort, the only thing that formed in his head was, no… is you.

He was hurt, in pain, his body ached, he could barely see let alone open his eyes. He needed comfort, he needed you. But when was life ever nice.

Instead, he was met with the fluorescent lights of the hospital room and the horrific sight of the mangled hands that once led a successful career in medicine. There was no warming gaze to be greeted with, only the sad sympathetic ones he now knows to be from the wrong woman and a cold, sterile room.

Cause sometimes I look… in his eyes

You stumbled over your words as you continued to look at each other. You continued singing but your eyes were locked together. Neither of you could look away. Your mouth moved on autopilot as your eyes lost the spark of a flame you had earlier, just like that night all those years ago, replaced by a reflection of the pain and grief he caused. The very same one that haunts his dreams.

A glimpse of us

You finished, your voice fading as the lyrics came to an end. As soon as the piano tuned out, you smiled and gave a little bow at the crowd who erupted in applause before leaving the stage in a hurry. Welled up tears spilled down warm cheeks as emotions and memories continued to riot your mind. After all these years he still managed to make you cry. Why can’t you move on?

You were quick on getting your belongings from the small prep area behind the stage however your plans of a speedy getaway were quickly ousted by the very same gentleman that perpetrated this whole ordeal.

‘You were amazing! The emotion you put in the performance…’ He continued to ramble on, looking past the curtain and to the roaring crowd cheering on for an encore, completely oblivious of his friend’s distraught state. ‘I mean the teary eyes, come on. Doctoring ever not work for you, acting could be something to con…’ he paused after finally getting a glimpse of you, swiftly wiping away tear streaks that ran down your cheeks but the growing redness in your eyes were dead give aways. ‘Shit’ finally piecing things together, he cursed, his attention fully set on you now. ‘It was real. Fuck, are you okay?’ he asked, finding it difficult figuring out what to do, yet a hint of urgency too as he still had to go back on stage.

‘Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.’ You swallowed, lying through your teeth. ‘I just… have to go’ you mumbled quickly, giving him a grin in hopes to resemble something as composed as the friend he knew. Though he knew you enough to know you were not ‘fine’, with great reluctance he let you go, rushing to the stage shortly after exchanging goodbyes and promising to check with him later.

As your friend went back on stage, you quickly took a survey of your appearance on a nearby mirror, making sure you didn’t look as dreadful as you felt. The bit of makeup you had on survived, however your eyes weren’t as forgiving being red. Nevertheless, you sped out to leave.

Considering your options, your only available exits were the front or back door and wanting to avoid individual who has left you in this state (just by being present), you turned to the corridor that lead to the back door but as unfortunate as you were, the exit was blocked by men hauling in delivery shipments and by the looks of things they weren’t going to be done any time soon.

You were antsy enough as it was and waiting by the second for them just added to your agitation. You really needed to leave now. A lump was lodging itself on your throat and the air around you seemed to be thinning. You need to leave NOW.

Swallowing all the anxieties you had, you had no choice but to rush out the front. You stayed on the side, avoiding the patrons and the one in particular perched up at the bar but unlucky you (your luck really seemed to have vanished really), the man saw your abrupt departure, unbeknownst to you.

You made it out to the street and the open air was a fresh welcome, letting you finally breath, whereas the establishment you had left felt suffocating.

You thought it was done. That the lump in your throat would finally dissolve as you walked down the street, thinking that you had successfully avoided the now famed sorcerer of New York. The hero, Doctor Strange…

but when was life ever good to you.

‘y/n…’ he breathed out, catching the sight of you sprinting toward the doors he entered only moments before. It pulled him out of his reverie, wondering if he should talk to you, what he’d talk to you about, an apology perhaps, contemplation of your years together, however the sight of you pulled him out like it always did, especially in the beginning. He sometimes had the tendency to be too deep in thought, he’d ignore everything and everyone in his surroundings, but he always caught you. Your scent, your voice, let alone your image, it always drew him from his stupor.

Now the sight of you cemented his thoughts.

Downing the last of his drink, he pulled a bill from his wallet and slammed it down the counter without so much as a look onto how much it was before he scurried out, chasing after you. (Like he should have done all those years ago)

He called out your name once he reached the sidewalk, turning left and right in search for you. The street wasn’t crowded much so it was easy to spot the figure stood still a few yards away to his right. With the last few rays of the dying sun and dim streetlight, he made out the curled head of hair the same shade as yours the figure had, and he just knew it was you.

‘Y/N!’ he nearly shouted, causing a few heads to turn in his direction but not yours. You kept your back to him as he sprinted your way. He knew you heard him. You would have kept on walking had you not.

It only took a second to reach you and when he did, he hesitated, not knowing what to do. He wanted to reach for you and plead for forgiveness. On his knees if he had to. Instead, he opted for another call for your name, hoping you’d finally face him.

And you did, after dropping your hands to your side, he heard a small sniff before you turned to him with your gorgeous smile and said (in a somewhat forced cheer in your voice)

‘Stephen. Hi’

‘Hi’ he replied densely. You idiot, he thought at how stupid his response was.

A silence fell over you both as Stephen canvassed your entirety now at a closer distance. He took in every graceful line, freckle and strand of hair he saw to memory. Every little detail he took in was as important as every breath he took. How bloodshot your eyes were didn’t go unnoticed though. Puffy around the eyelids from crying, red possibly from -he guessed- how hard you were rubbing them just before he reached you.

Surprising thing is, it still broke his heart seeing the distress you so clearly were trying to hide. The thought of tears running down your cheeks, was illegal. They had no business in gracing your face yet, he can’t help but realize that he just keeps being the reason you were left in that state. Where were all these sympathies back then? He asked himself, the very night flashing through his mind.

‘Stephen’ you said again, taking him out of head again. He missed that though. His name coming off your lips. It brought him back to all the mornings with you in bed, tangled in sheets as the morning glory woke you up and you woke him up with that honey sweet voice with the say of his name. Stephen

‘Sorry, um…’ he coughed, trying to piece a sentence, words, anything really that didn’t end in three syllables.

‘You were wonderful’ he finally managed, okay that’s five ‘Back there at the bar…. you were amazing’ like always, he wanted to add but stopped himself, pointing back to where he just left.

‘Thank you’ you muttered, nodding your head before leaving it down to look at your shoes. The way you responded lacked any sort of confidence, as if you didn’t believe his words or yourself. Truthfully, you were never really the most confident, even back then but always did step up when the situation needed. Either that’s the reason or you didn’t believe him, which considering his case, why should you.

Your hands were fidgeting, he noticed. Running and marking the bones of one hand with your fingers tips before your nails would start to pick on skin. This was something new to him. A new nervous habit of yours he hadn’t known before, so it was most likely picked up after your separation.

The person in front of him wasn’t the same one he knew all those years ago yet, still so similar and the same. He remembers everything about you, so if anything of the woman he knew back then was still in there, he knew by how you were acting that you were uncomfortable, agitated.

‘Really, you were amazing’ he affirmed, really wanting you to believe him, or at least to believe how wonderful you really are. ‘Truly, but are you okay?’

He’d done it. Ask that stupid question and that’s what broke the dam, causing the river to run past it with no mercy.

He heard a laugh at first, your hand raising towards your face. The sound bordered on maniacal, nothing like the one he loved but familiar enough to know he has heard it before. Slowly, your head rose, your hand half covering your mouth, half wiping away the rivers that flowed down your cheeks. The sight finally triggered the memory he was looking for. It was all too similar to that night, it felt like déjà vu.

‘um’ you started, finally managing to say after that little fit ‘I could lie but what’s the point? No. I’m not. I’m not okay because you’re here. Fuck, I actually thought that I could get away from this but no, evidently not.’ You tried to reason, looking him straight in the eyes ‘Christ Stephen, I was okay. I was okay when I was singing, I was okay ten minutes ago but then you just came out of no where and now I’m not okay. I’m never okay whenever it comes to you. Not anymore.’ You spit like venom, unrelenting in your streak to get out all your pain because of him. ‘I thought I could be civil but… I-I’m tired. I’m sorry, I’m gonna go. Enjoy your night’ you hurried, saying your goodbyes and turning your back to him to walk away. You would have gone had he not called you back in such a pleading tone.

‘please’ he begs and for some reason and it compels you to listen. You halt your steps, you don’t turn around, but you do wipe away your tears and he takes that as his chance to apologize for everything.

‘I’m sorry.’ He starts, his own eyes teary ‘I’m sorry for everything. You didn’t deserve what I did to you and it…’ he swallows that lump in his throat, trying to get the rest of his words out ‘it haunts me every day. You’re the kindest person I know, and I took you for granted. I was an arrogant piece of shit, too self-absorbed to even notice that the woman I love was working herself to death.’ You start to turn around ’You were the purest thing I knew and you didn’t deserve the monster I was. And I am so sorry for who I was then. I’ve changed or I’m trying to change, to be better than- than that monster that hurt you and I could only hope for your forgiveness because, you were always someone I never wanted to lose, and I did. By a stupid mistake and horrible decisions.’ His tears start to run, and you finally face him ‘I never wanted to let you go but I was hurting you more than I was loving you and I understand if I don’t get your forgiveness but, I am sorry. I am so sorry for hurting you. For taking you for granted. For not treating you how you deserved to be treated. For everything. You didn’t deserve what I did to you and hearing myself admit this… really just proves I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I need you to know that I am sorry. I’m really sorry for what I did and that… that you deserve.’

You stare at him with tears running down both your eyes and he sees the same urge to wipe them away, in you. The hesitant twitch of your arm as if by instinct, to move and act on the need to clear away his tears and comfort him. At least that’s what he interprets the move of your arm because that’s exactly what you would have done, that’s exactly your character and he wants to do the same. To dry away your tears and take you in his arms in respite.

But you act against those thoughts, only balling your fist as some form of control. You stare into him, as if gauging to find the lie in his words yet there is none and he sees something in your eyes that he can’t explain before they dart away. He watches as you scan your surroundings, looking at the people likely to be watching you both but he didn’t care for them. He only cared about you.

When your eyes turned back to him, you closed them immediately, face scrunching as you desperately tried to hold back to tears but to him, it was as if you were so pained by the mere sight of him. He’d be lying if he said that it didn’t chip away a piece of his heart.

Your head bowed for a bit as you tried to compose yourself but the words that left your lips once you rose again, only broke more of his heart.

‘You’re forgiven’ you were quick to say before turning back and walking away from him. He watched with wet cheeks, as you sped away from him, and he kept his gaze on you until you disappeared around the corner and then you were gone.

For what seemed like forever, he kept his eyes on that street corner, hoping for something that won’t happen. He knew that whatever he wanted wasn’t going to happen, but a man could hope, right? Though hopes are as easy to diminish as they are to ignite. Grief and disappointment, they tend to last.

The sun had set and streetlights and buildings are all that lit the side walk where Stephen stood. A man well known to the people and thus, there were those who were bound to watch the spectacle put on by the hero. Small crowds had formed over time as they watched the powerful sorcerer confess to the dreadful things he’s done to some doctor from before his fame, asking for forgiveness to all the terrible things he’s done.

To new passersby, they’d wonder why a hero of the city stood so stiff, looking at oblivion. They’d wonder for a minute without context before walking away with a shrug, figuring much more important things to think of.

Eventually, the crowd thinned to a trickle, til the lone man was all that remained the lone street, wondering what he had done to deserve you.

A/U: I've read this way too much to do a final proof read so sorry for all the grammatical mistakes and spellings and all that. Thanks for the read though

I'm hoping that the people who asked to be tagged don't mind me tagging them this late in the game and I hope you liked it. Hopefully it was worth the wait @strangesweetheart @evelynrosestuff @vesta-ro @doodle-cat16 @nabiilahadid @evansmusk @circe143 @dracoflaco

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syngrafaes09 · 2 years

Text

Pivot | Dr Strange x Y/N

In continuation of 'I can help with that'

Masterlist

W/N: Keeping up with the ideas sent by @lady-harvey and @thearcadeyel in the DM, things keep pivoting between...

Warnings: Absolutely 18+

I could melt, Stephen thought as he silently slid under the covers. He had long forgotten what it would be like to return home after work to find someone warm and beautiful waiting in bed for him.

Y/N mumbled and churned, feeling the dip. She had finally retreated to sleep after her roommate didn’t pick up her calls nor Stephen seemed to return soon. She sighed as gentle fingers caressed her fuzzy hair.

He felt a bit of disappointment when his arms pulled her closer to his chest. Fucking piece of cloth. But it soon followed a wave of guilt. He had left her without a word halfway through… It wasn’t entirely his fault, was it? Wong had held him up longer than it was required. He let out a breath, glancing outside the window. The sky was still filled with the black fog. It will clear out soon now that we have sent those creatures back to their dimension.

Y/N blinked several times trying to adjust to the light. She remained still, silently watching him stare somewhere, jaw clenched, lost in thoughts, feeling his fingers draw light patterns against the shirt. Even with the messy hair and few dull red cuts across his face he undeniably- She shot up abruptly as the realisation of the events of the past hours coursed through her.

“Sweetheart,” Stephen began, unsure of her thoughts and emotions, “I’m sorry about last night. There were things from other dimensions. I had to go…”

“It was alright. I mean, it was literal life and death, right?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Then I can wait. I’m not that important.”

Faint amusement darted through his weary eyes. “Thanks for the understanding.”

He toyed with the collar of the shirt she was wearing. His shirt, technically. “I thought I left you naked.”

“Naked and aroused,” she corrected.

He hummed and ran a thumb down her neck and in between the valley of her clothed breasts. Her nipples pebbled in anticipation.

“This is not appropriate,” he said, undoing the first button and sweet baby Jesus, she threatened to liquefy under his intense, scolding stare. “This has to come off. Did you try to leave?”

“I had wanted to,” she breathed as his thumbs circled her nipples for a moment.

He noticed the use of past tense and nodded. “Good,” he muttered, pinching her pebbled flesh between his fingers, “It will take some time to clear out the mist. Everyone had been instructed to stay indoors until then. ” It was then she noticed the dark gloomy night instead of the bright sunny morning.

Then he just grabbed handfuls of her aching breasts and crushed them between his palms.

She shoved him away. Then she put her hands on his shoulders, straddling him, her tits were right at his face, and he leaned forward, nuzzling between them. Stephen closed his eyes, mouth drifting towards her nipple. His lips parted over it and latched to it like a newborn’s.

She arched at the suction and he put his hands on her back so she couldn't get away. She groaned, so aroused by alternate waves of suction and his tongue swirling around it, she squirmed in his lap.

He held her down, shifting his attention to the other nipple.

His tongue languidly swirled in circles around the pigmented skin until the skin was drawn as tight as possible. Drawing in a cold breath through his mouth, he flicked his tongue against the bundle of nerves.

She whimpered and pressed herself further into him. He grinned, looking up at her, one hand travelling between them, rubbing circles on her lower abdomen. Eyes closed, her head tipped towards the ceiling, getting lost in the sensations. He returned to sucking her gently before tugging it in between his teeth.

As he felt her body tense up, he sucked harder, nibbling - driving her into madness.

“I n-need you in me.”

Stephen pulled back and set her loose. “Condoms’ in the bottom drawer,” he informed, leaning back on the headboard.

Y/N leaned down, opened the said drawer and sucked in a sharp breath glancing at the contents. She had never been much into toys. And he had quite the collection. She grabbed the least complicated appliances of all and a bottle of lube.

“I have never tried this before but… the idea… I would like to try this,” she said toying with the cuffs and the cockring.

Strange smiled at her, “Anything that makes you happy baby girl.” He kissed her one more time, tugging at the cuffs.

“What?” He asked, confused when Y/N didn’t hand them over.

“I wasn’t thinking about myself tied to your bed. I want to restrain you.”

He was swept away by utter bewilderment. No one had done that. To him. Ever. I have always been the giver. Never the taker, he thought. He has been so lost he didn’t realise she had already cuffed one of his wrists to the bedpost until Y/N tugged at his other one.

“Besides, I think it’s fair after what you did to me.”

“Fuck,” Stephen muttered under his breath, straining the restraints, “Thought I was already forgiven.”

“You are. This is a penance.”

“Fine, have me as you like,” he snorted.

She smiled, settling in between his legs and leaned in to kiss which he happily complied. He groaned into her mouth as she slid her hand down his chest and squeezed his growing erection through the sweatpants.

She pulled back only to let her lips roam around his neck, shoulder and chest. Working her way up, she blew a warm breath over his ears, kissing the shell while her fingers gently pinched and teased his nipples.

“Jesus,” Stephen moaned, “Woman where have you been all these years?”

Y/N smiled, resting her hands at his waist, teasing the waistband of his pants, “Learning the anatomy of pleasing you.”

Stephen chuckled, raising his hips for her to pull down the pants. He sighed in relief as his cock sprang free.

She bit her lip at his knowing smirk, lubed him and slid the ring to the base of his shaft. He was big. And thick, she thought, lowering herself on her stomach as she pumped him before turning on the vibrations.

He groaned, the muscles of his leg going all stiff as her tongue darted out and swirled around the head. She continued to lick, peppering kisses, along the length of him. He hissed, buckling his hips, as her mouth licked and sucked his balls.

Y/N smiled, stepping up the speed of vibrations.

“I might lose my patience and use- fuck.”

She took as much as possible of him in one swift go. Her eyes watched him throwing his head back and wincing upon hitting the headboard. I’ll never forget this one. She had been nervous - Would I be able to give him enough pleasure with so little experience? However as her mouth squeezed, caressing up and down, satisfaction burned on his handsome face.

Stephen sat there entrapped, watching her head bobbing, one hand stroking what length of him she couldn't fit in her mouth and the vibrating ring… He continued tugging now and then against the hard metal of the handcuffs even though the wrists burned in pain. He never thought he would like this so much. Oh, her nails, dug into his thigh.

“You're taking me so well, sweetheart-,”

He took a sharp breath, gasping as he felt her teeth gaze at him very gently. She looked up at him, all doe-eyed, flickering her tongue on the underside of his cock.

He wanted to break free, caress her hollowed cheeks, pull her hair to the back, and wantonly fuck that mouth. “Oh, my,” he grunted, feeling himself near the base of her throat. His hips thrusted of their own accord. “I’m so close.”

Y/N stopped immediately. “No,” he cried out at her. She gave him a slow, devilish grin. And sat up, scrambling away from him. It took a tremendous amount of effort when every bit of her ached for him.

“What are you doing?” he grumbled watching her climb out of the bed, relaxing into one of the armchairs beside the bed, across the fireplace.

“I’ll let you come only when you beg nicely.”

“I don’t beg,” Stephen snapped.

Y/N shrugged. She flaunted the control before turning down the strength of the vibrations.

Stephen strained his neck as he continued to glare at her. “You’ll be punished for this baby girl.”

She gulped looking at his darkened eyes. “I-is that so?” Don't be intimidated, she reminded herself.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then ran her hand down her stomach and in between her legs. She spread her knees and slowly began touching herself. She closed her eyes, knowing that he was watching her every movement, she imagined it was his fingers stroking the bundle of nerves. She smiled wider when she slipped her fingers into her slick slit.

How have I turned into such sex hungry woman?

“I could do better,” he voiced once she started to whimper. She wanted him to but she didn’t want to halt now. Not when she-

She shivered as the wave of heat washed over her.

When she opened her eyes, Stephen was staring at her hungrily, but strangely patient. “Since you are done with yourself, you might finish what you’d started,” he said with a pointed look. “Please,” he added.

Y/N sighed. Still, a little wobbly from the orgasm, she settled in between his legs. He relaxed back watching her slide off the cockring. She wrapped one hand around the base of his cock, squeezing him, while her tongue played around following each line, curve and crevice, as he was the most teasing appetiser imaginable.

Stephen let out a deep low moan, thrusting his hips upwards.

He cursed under his breath as her mouth sheathed him, working him up again.

“Y/N,” he grunted, thrusting his hips in a slow rhythm. Leaving his cock, her hand rubbed his thighs before cupping the balls.

“Don’t stop,” Stephen whimpered as she quickened the pace.

“You look so pretty like this. Guess you’d look better only when my cock goes rampant in that pussy.”

He had been silent most of the time except for the few noises he made, she almost choked at his filthy words. Looking up at him she couldn't think it possible, but those light grey eyes darkened even further when her fingers trailed below his scrotum, applying subtle pressure around the perineum. He jerked in her mouth when she found his sweet spot.

“Yeah,” he moaned, “S-so close.”

Amazed by her own boldness, she stroked him harder.

His insides were screaming guttural exhilaration. He was sure he would go crazy by the time they were going to finish. His hips jerked unsteadily, grinding against her mouth until everything stilled.

It was more and more. Tears welled at the corners of her eyes as she choked on the sheer volume of his semen. Her throat was already full and his ejaculation was nowhere near an end. Lots of it, as if he hadn’t come in months, years, maybe never.

“That was ethereal,” he breathed, “you tortured me so sweetly…”

Y/N smiled, wiping away the drips of cum lining her mouth. “I’m glad you liked it,” she sat up and kissed him. It was slow and gentle at first, their lips moving languidly. When he kissed her harder, she threaded her hands through his hair, pressing herself further against his hot, slick body.

He cast a simple spell after it was too much to bear. She grasped when hands clutched her waist, moving her around. He settled her amongst the pillows. “You have no idea what it took not to break free of those cuffs and fuck you as animals do.”

However before she could say anything he reached beneath, pinching her clit hard, until it hardly even felt like it was a special nub, but something else entirely. “Now, it's my turn to return the favour.” His looming figure left to reach out into the drawers. He snapped his fingers and a red cloth blinded her. “And torment you in the sweetest way possible.”

Stephen stroked her thighs, gradually sliding his hand up until he touched that heated core of her womanhood.

“Oh, doctor!”

“Do you like that, baby?”

She nodded wordlessly.

He put his head between her legs, nuzzling at first. His beard was a little rough on the insides of her thighs. He stroked her with skilful fingers. Then with his lips, and his tongue, he struck fire. A slow, fat lick brought his tongue to her aching button, and as soon as he touched tip to tip, white light exploded through her. His skilful tongue rubbed, nudged, and poked in a rhythm like a giant pulse. She cried out in astonishment, in appreciation at being touched in that right place.

Y/N’s legs twined about his head and shoulders desperately, she was beginning to buck her hips, beginning to come. She bit her lip to suppress a moan as her skin exploded into flames. Holy fuck, Stephen.

“Let me hear those noises, sweetheart,” he crooned against her sensitive flesh, making her wither under his subsequent licks.

She moaned gutturally, her hands grasping fistfuls of the sheet on either side of her hips as a shudder shook her head to toe.

Stephen smiled and gently began to pet her with his fingers. He glided one finger along the gaping cleft, then very slowly and gently penetrated her. Y/N whimpered. He touched her lightly at first, testing her with one finger, moving carefully. Then he stretched her with two fingers, curling them upward as his thumb began to rub tiny circles. He never took his eyes away from her, listening to her breathing speed as his curled fingers found her spot inside. He bowed his head in admiration, bringing his lips to the top of her inner thigh, teasing her before taking the flesh into his mouth and sucking with abandon, while continuing the movements of his hand. It was an extraordinary combination.

Y/N put her own hands on her breasts and her palms rotated the nipples.

He took her again in his mouth until she was weak and quivering, fondling her breasts until they were swollen with hot blood, the nipples stiff.

She tightened even more around his stroking finger and he increased the speed and depth of the thrusts. She reached the peak swiftly, spasms of her pleasure shuddering through her entire body, pelvis rising from the bed as if seeking something in the air.

He reached up his free hand to rub her quivering belly and fondle her breasts. She jerked and made a little sound, and he raised his head to look down at her. Heat bloomed over her cheeks as his thumb brushed over her nipple.

Yes,” she whispered, all her senses hyper-focused on the overwhelming touches.

Stephen kissed her, his mouth skimming over her taut abdomen.

“Harder,” she pleaded but he paid no heads.

He was kneading her breast gently, and when his mouth finally reached her nipple and closed over it, she moaned and clutched at his shoulders, her hip bucking against his fingers, her senses nearly drowned by the waves and waves of burning pleasure.

Along with those waves came those strange creatures: gratitude and hunger. Gratitude at being touched in the right place, in the way, at the right time. Hunger for something she was after, something she was trying to achieve, and there was always the danger that she’d miss it, wouldn’t find it, or get hold of it. She couldn’t get enough of him. It felt like a punishment.

A silent invisible wave squeezed and squeezed her hot throbbing sex. She felt her entire abdominal area cramp as it would during her period. It was like the sweet torment he had warned her about. Anytime now, she thought, I would burst like a sea fish held under the tap water.

The entire torrent, the pulsing flood of sensation, sent her over an unseen barrier, and she slid, throbbing, down, down, down into hot squeezing pulsing incognizance.

“Oh my God, Stephen,” she squealed as a spray of fluid came gushing out of her pussy and soaked the sheets beneath them.

“Had told you,” he whispered near her ear, “I could do better.”

After regaining some of her senses, she tugged free of the blindfold. As her eyes adjusted, she saw him emerging from the washroom, drying his hands in a towel.

“I’m so sorry,” Y/N said, tears blurring her vision.

Stephen immediately went to her on the bed and scooped her up into his strong arms. “What's the matter, baby?”

“The bed’s a mess,” she cried, burying her face in her hands, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s just a little wet, it’s no big deal. Are you…are you embarrassed about squirting?”

He watched her face turn red with shame beneath her hands, and he gently pulled them away from her face, shaking his head at her.

“No, no. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I loved it. It’s so fucking hot. It meant I had given you the most pleasure.”

Once he was sure she was over the edge, he asked her to lie on her stomach and wait for him. He held an unfamiliar bottle, squeezing out a generous amount of lube into his palm, then bending over and rummaging through his toys.

She swallowed hard glancing at the beaded silicone toy, “I couldn't take that…”

“Have you ever tried?”

She shook her head.

“It won't be nasty,” he said, “trust me.”

“I want to but that thing is scary.”

He obliged, tossing it back from where it came and settled, parting her legs.

“Tell me when it gets uncomfortable,” he said, sliding his fingers between her legs. She nodded into the pillow, mumbling okay.

The fingers of his right hand trailed through her cleft, gathering up her arousal, and then continued its indecent path up, slipping between her cheeks. He swirled over the taboo spot, each circle smaller than the previous one until the tip of his index finger was there, pushing gently to gain entrance.

“How does it feel?”

“Weird.”

Her breath came out stuttered. He was naughty and corrupt. But he stopped the movements at once.

“There are a lot of nerve endings here.” His finger resumed its swirling, proving his point. “Trust me sweetheart I won’t be doing anything that could remotely hurt you. And I would stop whenever you want me to.”

“Okay,” she murmured.

A shudder rolled down her body as his finger probed the ring of muscles.

“Squeeze and relax,” he guided.

She did as instructed, making little ‘uhs’, as his finger slipped through the virgin muscles of her asshole.

Shame and euphoria battled in her mind as his finger slowly, gently thrusted in her. Her thoughts swirled wondering how she ended up here. She was supposed to be on the giving end. Giving him penance. Instead, he was in charge, finger fucking her ass.

With no warning, she climbed the cliff and jumped off as heat bloomed from deep within her.

Y/N felt tired and sore but she didn’t care. She couldn’t get enough of him. She wanted him inside her. She wanted the ache. She wanted to squeeze him in. She wanted to watch his face. She wanted him in ways she had never wanted anyone before. It was like something had been invented. By him in that very bed. Or something he had unleashed. It was something raw she couldn’t put her finger on.

Finally, when he returned to her side, she got on top of him like her original plan. Her palms rested on his chest, as her hips moved to press and rub her swollen lips against his groin.

She’d never done it before. And couldn’t really believe she was doing this. It felt like she was in charge.

He watched with a hooded gaze as she reached back, held him and tried to put him in.

“Condom,” he reminded her but she denied it.

“I’m clean of STDs if that’s what you are worried about,” she spoke, guiding him in. She was so hot and wet, he slipped in faster and deeper than she anticipated.

“The way you came over my fingers, I can guarantee that you have barely ever fucked anyone.”

She snorted and squeezed her muscles making him hiss.

“I don't want you to get preg-”

“I’m on birth control for medical reasons.” She squeezed him again, “Can you come? Just from this?”

Stephen smirked. “I might if you try harder and longer.”

She continued to clench around him, rotating her hips, and rocking softly until he went mad. He bucked, splitting her in two. His hand flew to her waist, holding her body, lifted her off and drove her down impaling on his cock.

One thrust was enough to have her addicted, he knew that well, so he let his hands rest under his head.

She repeated the action, again and again, ramming herself down on him. Her thighs burned with the exertion. Sweat dampened her forehead and hair as she rode him, her breasts bouncing between the force of gravity and the thrusts. However, she was getting fatigued.

She gave in when his strong, capable hands wrapped around her and pulled him closer towards him. Her head rested on his chest as his hands caressed her back. Then he slammed into her, so deeply, she thought it couldn’t be possible. Wordlessly he proved her mistaken as he did it again and likewise. It felt like he was making her from the inside out. He speared her, plunged inside her, crushing her into him.

She was close and could tell by the way the muscles in his chest tightened, he was close too. She saw his jaw bulging as he gritted his teeth, trying to keep from coming as long as he could. She wanted him to come. To lose control. Just like she had.

Closing her eyes, Y/N channelled the heat of her orgasm to squeeze him, and at just that moment, she felt his cock jump inside my body, seemingly growing even bigger than it had been, then half a second later blasting his hot semen inside her.

Somehow, after many minutes of silence, they smiled at each other and laughed.

“We should do it another time at least,” she said, finger doodling on his bicep.

“Studying or having sex?”

“Both,” Y/N replied, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

Stephen hummed in agreement, “We should do it regularly.”

Tags: @lady-harvey @thearcadeyel @butchers-girl @newavenger

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mrswxyne · 8 months

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Supreme Spouses 💞

#stephen strange #clea #clea strange #doctor strange #marvel #wong #multiverse of madness #charlize theron #benedict cumberbatch #faltinestrange #cleaphen #cleastrange #clea x doctor strange #doctor strange x clea #doctor strange imagine #marvel fanart #doctor strange fanart #fanart

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strangesthirdeye · 2 months

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ɪ'ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ʜᴏᴍᴇ (ᴏɢ sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ x ғᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

Summary: One last call

Warning: IT'S OG STEPHEN STRANGE, MUAH 💋, heavy angst, death, blood, last call, sad, acceptance. Dying, Major character death, snow. Pretending that everything is ok

As usual, I'm sorry if there are any wrong sentences or typos or grammatical mistakes, please forgive me and again English is not my first language, so I try to improve my language and writing in this way.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Ring.... Ring...

Stephen woke up from his sleep after hearing the ringtone of his phone indicating that someone was calling him. Stephen sighed as he opened his sleepy eyes. He looked on his right side where you should be but he finds nothing. He remembered that you told him that you will be back late because you got a mission with Tony, Nat and Wanda.

You are an Avengers, of course you will come home late. Stephen scoffed as he reached for his phone on the bedside table. There he saw your name displayed on the screen. He slides the accept button on his phone screen.

"hey, love" Stephen murmured sleepily.

"hey, honey" you replied in a low voice.

Stephen frowned. "Are you okay? You seem.. tired?"

"I'm good.. Just a little sleepy" you replied weakly.

"Where are you really?" Stephen shuffled his position on the bed for comfort.

"Bed?" you replied.

"You should have slept, you must be tired after doing the mission" Stephen advised.

"I know, I just.. I just want to hear your voice... Before I sleep" You said lowly.

Stephen smiled to himself. "Is that why you called me? You miss my voice?"

"Yeah.."

"Well, now you've heard my voice, you can rest now" Stephen muttered, rubbing his eyes.

"I know but.. Let me just hear your voice one last time before I sleep.. Your voice makes me feel safe and calm" You replied lowly.

"What do you want me to say if you think my voice makes you safe and calm?" Stephen stared at the ceiling of his room.

"Anything.. Just say it.. Even if it's nonsense or something like Mystic Arts? Kamar Taj? Dimensional demons.. Anything" You suggested, voice faded more and more.

Stephen let out a breath. "I don't know what to say actually.."

"Oh, please.. You surely have anything to say.. Just well, whatever.. For me? Please?" you pleaded.

Stephen agrees and there goes he tells everything that happened during your absence in his presence. Not long after he finished his talks he was silent.

Somehow, he could sense that something was wrong. Not in his room or Sanctum, but the other side of the call on his phone. You. He feels something is wrong with you.

At first you seem tired and probably sleepy, but over time, you get tired and tired. At first he thought you were just sleepy after doing the mission. Tough Mission. You are probably just tired but then whenever you try to answer his conversation you just hummed and replied with short sentences which left him more confused.

"Are you sure you want me to continue?" Stephen hesitated.

"Yeah.. I don't mind" you replied shortly.

"When are you going back to the Sanctum?" Stephen asked.

"I don't know.. Maybe 3 or 4 days or maybe I'm not coming home due to this mission" You said, voice getting lower and lower.

"You sound tired, love. I think you need some rest so that you can finish this mission quickly" Stephen suggested.

"Yeah, I'm definitely tired.. You should go back to sleep too... I'm sorry if I disturbed your sleep" you replied.

"It's nothing.. Actually I was also expecting you to call me but I think you should just rest.." Stephen changed his lying position.

"... Yeah, you're right.. I should rest.. " the line became silent for a moment. "I love you, always.. Thank you for being with me, honey"

Stephen smiled tiredly. "I love you too, always.. I will always be here for you, love"

You stared at the dark sky. White snow fell heavily on a cold night. A very cold wind blew on you as you lay facing the night sky with your body covered in blood. Big wound in the stomach. Blood flows non-stop from your severe wound. A puddle of blood forming under you. The once lively face that was full of color turned pale, eyes look empty showing that your time here is not long. Life gives you enough time to make the final call. To say goodbye.

You took a shaky breath. Eyes stared at the night sky. Body temperature is decreasing.

"Goodbye, Stephen" the call fell silent.

#benedict cumberbatch x reader #benedict cumberbatch #doctor strange x female reader #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange #doctor stephen strange #dr stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x reader #doctor strange x you #doctor strange fanfiction #doctor strange imagine #stephen strange imagine #dr stephen strange #benedict cumberbatch x female!reader #Spotify

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make-me-imagine · 1 year

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A Step Forward

Prompt/Request: A takes B's hand to help them down steps/wall, and doesn't let go

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Gn!Reader

Requested By: Anonymous (this is a leftover Valentines Request lol)

Words: 617; super short I know, but at least I managed to write something lol

After everyone had disappeared from the sanctum grounds for the evening, you and Stephen walked side by side through the training area.

"This group seems promising" you noted as you thought back on the group you had been helping him train.

Stephen hummed "Yes, but they still have a long way to go."

"You say that every time"

"That's because it's true every time" he said as he smiled at you.

"You said that about me too, and then I helped save the world, and your life two weeks later."

He rolled his eyes but laughed "You are a rare exception." he added, his tone a bit softer, making your heart thump.

You smiled as you headed up onto a platform "A rare exception? That's a rare compliment from thee Stephen Strange."

Stephen watched as you picked up a training dummy and set it aside, his eyes gazed over you fondly.

"Why do you think I now allow you to teach alongside me? You're one of the best here."

You smiled down at him "And here I thought it was because you and Wong bicker when you train it together"

Stephen smiled, "That too"

Walking over to the ledge of the platform, you prepared to jump down but Stephen stepped forward and reached out his hand for you to take.

You were caught off guard by the action, but brushed away the warmth in your chest as you placed your hand in his. Leaping down he kept you steady as you laded on the pavement below.

Stephen continued to walk and you expected his hand to slip from yours, but instead, he only entertwined his fingers with yours as he walked along side you.

You looked down at your intertwined hands before looking back at him. His face was turned away from you, as he seemed to avoid your gaze, and instead eyed some training targets.

Your stomach flipped as you repressed a smile, noting how warm your face felt.

You and Stephen had been dancing around your obvious feelings for one another for what seemed like ages. You both knew how you felt, but you were both hesitant to start anything. Your lives were dangerous, was it worth the risk?

But now, as his hand gripped yours it seemed as though he had made that decision for the both of you.

As you headed back towards the sanctum, you allowed yourself to softly squeeze his hand. A subtle way of telling him you wanted it too. You saw his smile widen a bit from the corner of your eye as he squeezed your hand in return.

Heading into the Sanctum, he did not remove his hand from yours, even as others walked past, obviously noticing. You saw the looks on their faceas as they smiled as they passed. Most of them thinking it was about time something happened with you two.

Finally stopping, Stephen turned towards you and looked down at your hands before he cleared his throat softly. He gently caressed your hand with his thumb before he met your eyes, a soft smile ghosting his lips.

"Would you like to go get dinner?"

Stephen was still uncertain of how to word his feelings, uncertain of how to tell you just how much he wanted to be with you. but the fact that you allowed him this gentle form of affection told him you knew he was trying.

You nodded with a smile "Yes."

He smiled in return as you both continued down the sanctum halls, hands still linked, as you walked a bit closer than before. It may not be perfect yet, but it was a step forward, and a promising one at that.

xx End xx

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @rexit-mo, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

Marvel + Stephen Strange Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney, @trashywritestrash, @groovy-lady , @marvelouslyme96, @supersourlemon13, @mochamoff, @simsiddy, @gay-and-ready-to-cry, @flourishandblotts-inc, @spuffyfan394, @agent-catfish-kenobi, @locke-writes, @cs-please, @soultrysworld, @a-lumos-in-the-nox, @creativitybeware, @that-marvel-simp, @gatefleet, @skylions-den, @silverose365, @nix-rose, @etanordoesbullsh1t, @dominos-palast, @maellem, @readingwithatorch, @cauliflowertree, @writerfulltime, @multifandomfix, @lokidokieokie,

#Stephen Strange #Doctor Strange #Stephen Strange x Reader #stephen strange/reader #marvel imagine #stephen strange imagine #doctor strange imagine #doctor strange/reader #stephen strange fluff #stephen strange oneshot #stephen strange fic #marvel oneshot #doctor strange fic

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ilguna · 10 months

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☼ when the dead rise pt2 (Stephen Strange) ☼

summary; five years pass, and you come to terms with the fact that you may never see Stephen again. when Tony calls you, telling you that there may be a way to change everything, you decide to take one more chance.

warnings; swearing, willing starvation, needle mention, weapon usage, death, blood, ehh gore, suicide mention, weight gain/loss, kinda cringe if you think about it, happy ending!

wc; 18.7k

notes; the entirety of endgame, haha, i'm not kidding. with nonsensical talk of time traveling, more angst, some fluff, tony and y/n get along, and stephen is there at the end.

part one.

—

The galaxy that you’re floating in is beautiful. It’s perfect, and if you weren’t here right now, sitting in front of the window, you’d say that it’s not real. There’s a mix of the rainbow out there, the brightest hue being aquamarine. Which paints everything in the spaceship the same shade.

You’ve been sitting here for hours, just staring at the stars. They don’t change, captured at their best times. It’ll be millions of years before they burn out, by then they’ll have fulfilled their purpose. There will be no regrets.

You wish you could say the same.

“(Y/n), are you going to come over and eat?” Tony asks from behind you.

He’s sitting at the table with Nebula, they’ve been going back and forth playing their games, trying to keep entertained. You heard him talking about eating, but you never bothered to join the conversation. You don’t have the energy to get up and go over there.

“No, I’m fine.” You murmur, leaning into your knees, arms wrapped around the back of your thighs. “Go ahead and have the rest.”

It’s quiet for a moment, then you can hear him sigh. “You haven’t eaten anything today.”

“I know.” You tell him. “I’m not hungry.”

The sound of a chair scraping against the metal flooring fills the air. You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath. His footsteps echo through the ship, shuffling to a stop behind you.

“You haven’t been hungry for the past couple of days.” He says, voice surprisingly gentle. “You can’t do this to yourself. It won’t change things.”

With gritted teeth, you swallow thickly, and let out an uneven breath. “I know that too, Tony.”

He moves to stand right next to you, letting out a grunt. When you open your eyes, looking over, you see that he’s sitting beside you, legs crossed. The shiny silver bag is in his hand, he shakes it, looking inside.

“It’s some sort of mix. It doesn’t taste good at first, but it’ll grow on you.” He says, holding it out for you.

You stare at him, pressure building behind your eyes again. Your lips begin to tremble first, face twisting as the tears take over. Tony frowns, setting the bag down, and reaches to pull you in a hug. As you begin to cry into his shoulder, he squeezes you tightly, causing the ache in your ribs to surface.

“I just want him back.” You sob, “Is that too much to ask for?”

DAY TWENTY-THREE

“It’s been twenty-three days since Thanos came to Earth.” Rhodes says, he’s standing at the wooden table where a holographic projection displays out of a cylindrical device in the middle.

In the air, you’re able to see the faces and names of those you lost that day. It’s constantly rotating, a few of them being Nick Fury, Bucky, Sam, Wanda, Peter, and Stephen. There’s more, of course, faces you don’t recognize because you cut ties with the Avengers a couple years ago.

“World governments are in pieces,” Natasha begins. “The parts that are still working are trying to take a census and it looks like he did…” She trails off for a moment, Tony pushes up his glasses, hand covering his face when Peter appears in front of him. “He did exactly what he said he was gonna do. Thanos wiped out,” She sighs, “Fifty percent of all living creatures.”

There’s a moment of silence across the table, you play with one of your rings, twisting it between your fingers.

Tony moves his hand, lifting his head. “Where is he now? Where?” He’s currently in a wheelchair, hooked up to an IV. He’s looked better, but to be fair, so have you. You’re two peas in one miserable pod.

While you came out with bruised ribs and a gnarly scar from where Thanos had ripped out a chunk of your skin—which Tony tried his best to repair while on the spaceship. He had to fight through an infection from being stabbed by his own nanotech, which Nebula had the pleasure of healing.

In the end, there was only so much food to pass around on the ship. Even though you’d gone days without eating, it didn’t help the supply any. However, your weightloss is nothing compared to Tony’s, because he’s sick at the moment.

“We don’t know.” Steve says, his arms are crossed over his chest. He’s leaning against a table nearby. “He just opened a portal and walked through.”

Tony wheels forward, sighing, looking off to the side. “What’s wrong with him?” He asks, motioning to Thor. He’s sitting in a separate room, leaned forward on his knees, a hard expression on his face, moving his thumbs.

“Oh, he’s pissed.” Rocket says. He’s a talking raccoon that was part of Quill’s group, you met him after you landed back on Earth. Which only happened because Tony and Nebula set off a distress signal, and a woman named Carol Danvers came to save you. “He thinks he failed.” Tony’s hand falls. “Which, of course, he did, but there’s a lot of that going around, ain’t there?”

“Honestly, until this exact second I thought you were a Build-A-Bear.” Tony says.

“Maybe I am.”

“We’ve been hunting Thanos for three weeks now.” Steve says. “Deep space scans and satellites and we got nothing.” He pauses, looking up at the table. “(Y/n), Tony, you fought him.”

“Who told you that?” Tony asks. “I didn’t fight him. No, he wiped my face with a planet while the Bleecker Street magician—” You turn your head to look at him, eyebrows drawing in. “Gave away the store. That’s what happened.”

“Don’t talk about him like that.” You snap, suddenly getting up from your chair. When it begins to fall back, you catch it with one hand, slamming it against the floorboards. “Prick.”

“There was no fight, ‘cause he’s not beatable.” Tony finishes, unbothered by you.

“Okay,” Steve nods. “Did he give you any clues, any coordinates, anything?”

Tony makes a noise, saluting Steve. “I saw this coming a few years back.” He sinks into the wheelchair. “I had a vision. I didn’t wanna believe it. Thought I was dreaming.”

Steve stands. “Tony, I’m gonna need you to focus.”

“And I need you.” Tony says, it’s muffled because of the hand in front of his mouth. He drops it. “As in, past tense. That trumps what you need. It’s too late, buddy.” He shakes his head. “Sorry.”

You run a hand through your hair, and then settle into crossing your arms.

Tony sniffs. “You know what I need?” He slaps a bowl away from him, the spoon clattering against the table. He gets to his feet, one hand on it as he leans forward. “I need a shave. And I believe I remember telling all youse…”

He begins to pull at the IV needle, Rhodes steps toward him. “Tony, Tony!”

“...alive and otherwise, that what we needed,” He does a circular motion. “Was a suit of armour around the world. Remember that?” His voice is raising. “Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not. That’s what we needed.”

“Well, that didn’t work out, did it?” Steve asks.

“I said we’d lose.” Tony points to himself. “You said, ‘We’ll do that together, too’. And guess what, Cap? We lost. And you weren’t there.” Steve sighs. “But that’s what we do, right? Our best work after the fact?” Rhodes grabs Tony by the arms to steady him. “We’re the ‘Avengers’. We’re the ‘Avengers’, not the ‘Pre-vengers’.”

He looks at Rhodes, who nods. “Okay.”

“Right?” Tony asks.

“You made your point. Just sit down, okay?”

“Okay.” Tony says, looking away. “No, no, here’s my point. You know what?” He points at Carol. She’s unamused, “She’s great by the way.”

“Tony, you’re sick. Sit down.” Rhodes tries to push him down.

“We need you. You’re new blood.” He pushes off of Rhodes. “Bunch of tired old mules. I got nothing for you, Cap.” He walks to stand a foot away from Steve. “I got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options. Zero. Zip. Nada. No trust, liar.” He whispers.

You watch as he reaches up to grab the arc reactor, ripping it from his chest. Tony’s breathing becomes uneven, as he grabs Steve’s hand, and slaps the reactor into it. “Here, take this. You find him, put that on, you hide.” He falls to his knees.

You, Steve and Rhodes move forward at the same moment.

“Tony!” Steve reaches for him.

“I’m fine.” He says. “Let me…”

His eyes roll back, collapsing.

—

Tony lays on a reclined bed, unconscious, with Pepper beside him, holding his hand. Rhodes drops off his glasses on the bedside table, and then leaves the room, coming to join you, Natasha, Steve and Carol.

“What about you, (Y/n)? You never said anything.” Steve says, several eyes land on you.

You twist the ring, looking at the engraving on the inside for the hundredth time today. Always with you, it says. You found it in Stephen’s room one afternoon, after he’d asked you to clean if you had time. You couldn’t say no, and though he liked to make sure he looked neat, his bedroom could be a mess at times.

When you asked about it, he smiled and told you to keep it. You tried to resist it, hiding it in places all throughout the Sanctum to ensure that it wouldn’t end up back in your possession. He always knew where to find it, and at the end of the day, he’d give it back to you. A gift.

You never really liked wearing jewelry on your hands and wrists. It interferes with the whole ‘raising-the-dead’ thing. You can’t remember the amount of times you broke a bracelet or scratched a ring at the beginning. But when you finally accepted the gift and stopped trying to give it back, you promised Stephen that you’d wear it everyday.

Now you can’t keep it on, as if the gold burns your skin each time it settles into place. Always with you. It feels like a taunt, a joke, something you can’t get away from.

Where is he?

“No offense, Steve.” Your voice is colder than you mean it to be. “But if I knew anything, don’t you think I would’ve said something?”

Steve opens his mouth to speak, but Rhodes doesn’t give him a chance. “Bruce gave him a sedative. He’s gonna probably be out for the rest of the day.”

“That’s for the best.” You mutter, sliding the ring into your pocket.

“You guys take care of him, and I’ll bring him a Xorrian elixir when I come back.” Carol says, arms crossed over her chest as she begins to walk away.

“Where are you going?” Steve asks.

“To kill Thanos.” She says simply.

The four of you follow after her quickly, because her pace isn’t slowing down. “Hey.” Natasha calls, Carol stops and turns around. “You know, we usually work as a team here and, uh, between you and I, morale’s a little fragile.”

Rhodes leans against the doorway.

“We realize up there is more your territory, but this is our fight, too.” Steve says.

“You even know where he is?” Rhodes asks, looking up from the tile.

“I know people who might.” She says.

“Don’t bother.” Nebula cuts in, standing across the room. “I can tell you where Thanos is.”

“Well, let’s hear it.” You say, going down the steps to join her in the sitting room.

When you get inside, you see that Rocket is in here, too. Nebula moves to stand next to the window, waiting for the others to join you. You twist a chair around, sitting in it, and sinking into the navy blue cushions. Bruce and Thor roundup to join you.

“Thanos spent a long time trying to perfect me.” She says, once everyone has come inside the room. “And when he worked, he talked about his Great Plan. Even disassembled, I wanted to please him. I’d ask…” She pauses. “Where would we go once his plan was complete?” She turns her head. “And his answer was always the same.” She joins them at the table. “‘To the Garden’.”

Rhodes makes a face, tilting his head. “That’s cute. Thanos has a retirement plan.”

“So, where is he?” Steve asks, moving around the table.

Rocket pulls up a projection of the Earth. “When Thanos snapped his fingers, Earth became ground zero for a power surge of ridiculously cosmic proportions.” The projection sends off a blast to emphasize this. “No one’s ever seen anything like it. Until two days ago…”

He messes with the projection to show a different galaxy, zooming in until you’re met with a planet with rings around it. When you lean forward to see it, the name tag above reads, ‘PLANET 0259-S’.

“On this planet.” Rocket finishes.

“Thanos is there.” Nebula says.

Natasha leans in close. “He used the stones again.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Bruce nervously chuckles, he’s standing at the doorway. “We’d be going in shorthanded, you know.”

“Look, he’s still got the stones, so—”

“So, let’s get ‘em.” Carol’s eyes are locked on the planet. “Use them to bring everyone back.”

“Just like that?” Bruce asks.

“Yeah. Just like that.” Steve says.

You sit up on the chair at the sound of this.

“Even if there’s a small chance that we can undo this, I mean, we owe it to everyone who’s not in this room to try.” Natasha says, shaking her head.

“If we do this, how do we know it’s gonna end any differently than it did before?” Bruce asks.

“Because before you didn’t have me.” Carol says, hands on her hips.

“Hey, new girl?” Rhodes looks at her. “Everybody in this room is about that superhero life.” She tilts her head slightly. “And if you don’t mind my asking, where the hell have you been all this time?”

“There are a lot of other planets in the universe. And unfortunately, they didn’t have you guys.”

Rhodes and Steve make the same face at each other—fair enough.

Thor pushes up from where he’s sitting at the dining room table, still chewing his food. He walks up behind Carol, and she faces him. He holds his hand out over her shoulder, Stormbreaker—the axe that was made on Nidavellir—goes to him, narrowly missing her head, blowing her hair into her face. She doesn’t flinch.

He sighs, squinting, and then nods. “I like this one.”

There’s a moment of silence, you get to your feet, wandering over to stand at the table. Steve looks at you, “Let’s go get this son of a bitch.”

—

The planet that Thanos has chosen to inhabit is, unfortunately, gorgeous. It’s a peaceful place, quiet, with thriving nature and wildlife. The group of you walk in silence, allowing you to enjoy the sounds of the animals chittering around you.

It doesn’t take long before you come up to the wood shack that Carol had noticed when she came through the atmosphere about ten minutes ago. She went in first, while the rest of you waited in space, wanting to make sure that there wasn’t anything waiting for you on the planet.

She’d come back, happy to report that there wasn’t a single living being beside Thanos. No satellites, ships, armies. There weren’t even ground defenses. Which would’ve had you excited, if it weren’t for what happened last time you fought him. You practically had the advantage then, too. There were so many people with different abilities.

Bruce positions himself underneath the shack, wearing his iron suit to supplement the fact that Hulk is still out of commission. You watch as Steve waves his arm in a circle, giving Carol the signal. A bright and fiery beam goes right through the shack, and seconds later, she follows.

There’s the sound of Carol fighting Thanos, getting him into position. Bruce breaks through the floor first, with Rhodes and Thor coming through the ceiling. It isn’t until you hear Thanos screaming, do you concur that the gauntlet must be off, done in the most aggressive way possible.

Steve goes up the stairs first, you and Natasha following close behind. Carol has Thanos in a headlock, Rhodes holding his right arm, Bruce holding the left. On the floor lies Thanos’s hand, the gauntlet still attached to it.

Thanos is groaning, face twisted. Rocket makes his way around to the handle, flipping over the gold gauntlet. “Oh, no.”

You look over, expecting to see that everything is fine, besides his mangled arm. You’re met with empty slots, not a single one of the stones is attached to the gauntlet. You sigh, pressing your lips together.

Natasha and Steve share a look before he speaks, “Where are they?”

Thanos groans, Carol pulls her arm tighter, “Answer the question.”

Half of his face is scarred, as if he’s recently been in a fire. Your eyes trail down to what’s left of his arm, finding it in the same condition. In this moment, you can feel the little hope you have leaving your body.

“The universe required correction.” Thanos says. “After that, the stones served no purpose, beyond temptation.”

“You murdered trillions!” Bruce shouts, shoving Thanos back.

“You should be grateful.”

Bruce punches him.

Natasha takes a breath. “Where are the stones?”

“Gone.” He tells her. “Reduced to atoms.”

“You used them two days ago!” Bruce exclaims.

“I used the stones to destroy the stones.” Thanos says. “It nearly killed me.”

You shake your head, corners of your lips turning down. “That’s not true.”

“It is.” His eyes land on you. “But the work is done. It always will be. I am inevitable.”

“We have to tear this place apart. He has to be lying!” Rhodes says.

“My father is many things.” Nebula murmurs. “A liar is not one of them.”

“Ah.” Thanos breaths. “Thank you, daughter. Perhaps I treated you too harshly.”

Thor swings his axe up without notice, shouting as he cuts off Thanos’s head. It hits the ground with a thud, purple blood splattering against the wall, on Nebula's face. His body falls back.

“What?” Bruce breathes.

“What did you do?” Rocket asks.

“I went for the head.” Thor mumbles, turning to walk out of the hut.

The rest of you stand in silence, watching as Nebula walks over to his body, kneeling down to shut his eyes. You take in deep breaths through your nose to calm the rising anger. Various thoughts on how you could torture him, even though he’s dead, begin to come to you. You could drag his pathetic body back to Earth, conjure it everyday, make him work his fingers to the bone, never let him rest.

He took Stephen, you think.

You grit your teeth. “All due respect, Nebula, but we better burn his body.” You tell her, Natasha and Carol glance at you. You squeeze your hands into fists. “Or else I’m going to make sure he never rests. I could find thousands of ways to make the afterlife miserable, trust me.”

She nods at you, and then turns back to him.

You move to follow after Thor, who’s already down the stairs, traveling toward the spaceship. “If you need me, I’ll be by the ship.”

The hero suit fades away, falling back to your regular clothes. Your fingers dip into your jean pocket, coming into contact with the ring you’d stored earlier. You pull it out, holding it in your palm for a long moment. Then, you sigh, sliding it back into its place on your thumb.

ONE YEAR LATER

The dark clouds swirl above the field, acting as a warning that you don’t have much time to practice today. It rains often in New York, so this wouldn’t be your first time having to experience it while testing your abilities. However, it’s happened enough for you to say that you hate the feeling of it.

Lately, you’ve been feeling heavier whenever you come out here, like the ground is one giant blackhole and you’re constantly fighting against flying inside of it. The rain will only make it worse, and you can’t stand it when your clothes are waterlogged. It makes the seats of your car soggy.

Despite this, you take your time walking to the middle, not that you’re able to go faster than this, anyway. You haven’t been yourself for quite a few days, you think a cold might be coming on. Wong has begun to notice too, it was a struggle to convince him to let you leave the Sanctum. Which was done on the promise that you wouldn’t come out here to do this today.

Well, unfortunately for him, you can’t afford to lose time. Every day you spend on your ass, you take a step back from what you’re working towards—a breakthrough. It’s got to be right around the corner, this whole week, you’ve repeatedly felt yourself come to the ledge, but you were too afraid to jump.

You know now that this is how you grow to be stronger, to have a better understanding of your abilities. You can’t become a better hero if you don’t know how to sacrifice yourself sometimes, too.

There’s something under there, beneath the grass. It’s more than just the dead that you’re used to bringing to life. You get a feel for it each time you try, but it’s like uprooting a tree that’s been standing for hundreds of years. It’s resistant.

You haven’t told any of the Avengers yet, afraid to get their hopes up. You think that it’s those who were killed in the blip. The reason why it’s so hard to bring them back is because they don’t have physical bodies, so what happens if you try to put them back together?

It sounds ridiculous at first, but it’s not that heinous when you map it out. When you tried to explain it to Wong, he shut you down within the first thirty minutes, telling you that this isn’t how it works. You told him that it’s fine if he doesn’t want to have hope, you won’t let him drag you down.

It goes like this—it’s very simple—their bodies are everywhere. Those who were killed outdoors have been spread through nature. They were in the air at one point, but now they’re in the grass, the dirt, the Earth. They’re here, half the job is already done for you. What you need to do is focus on one person to bring back in the area, and work from there.

And it’s not even that ridiculous of an idea! When you were on Titan last year, directly after you’d lost Stephen, you tried that exact method. It’s where your inspiration came from. The ground shook, trying to listen to your direction. The issue is that you weren’t strong enough, you didn’t have enough practice to be doing something like that.

Now, you do. It’s what you’ve been working toward for the past few months, day in and day out, no breaks, absolutely no days off.

You slowly lower yourself to the ground, joints aching. You breathe heavily, sitting sideways on your legs, because your knees hurt from sitting on them for hours at a time. You place your hands in front of you, palms flat in the grass.

When you close your eyes, the ticklish feeling in your stomach rises. You focus on that, what it means, how long it’ll take for it to build before it becomes the dark energy that is necromancy. It isn’t until you feel the pressure beginning in your palms, as if you’re being sucked downward, do you switch to that.

You don’t allow it to bring you down, in fact, you pull back with ten times as much force. You’re coming to me, you think, not the other way around. It doesn’t want to, though, so you sort through the mass. Eyes bouncing from side to side behind your lids, looking for the weakest link.

You find it, and yank. The first few times, it doesn’t budge, it’s coming from several directions, exactly what you’re looking for. With this excitement, you beckon it toward you. The body isn’t fighting anymore, it’s like reeling in a dead fish. Which wouldn’t be appetizing to others, but it’s what you’re looking for.

The worry sets in when you realize that it’s not slowing down. You’ve just lifted your right hand off of the ground, when the matter surges through your body—your head whipping back so fast that you’ll be feeling it for weeks.

A scream tears through your vocal chords, fire eating you up inside.

It explodes.

You’re thrown into the air, body twisting at an awkward angle as you come into contact with the ground. You land on your bad shoulder, sending a spike of electricity through your torso and down your legs.

There’s an unbearable ringing in your ears when you roll onto your back, struggling to breathe through the cloud of black smoke that comes to choke you. Your head rolls off to your right side, fingers reaching to touch the scorched grass that you’ve landed on top of.

The moment you come into contact, it crumbles, turning to dust.

And so do you.

—

The consistent beeping of the heart monitor next to you is what you hear first. A moment of relief floods you, because this means that your hearing isn’t permanently damaged, but it’s fleeting when you realize what that means. Your eyebrows draw in, squeezing your eyes before you try to open them.

The hospital room is dark, the entire afternoon has been wasted away. You look to the window a few feet away, and find a lovely shade of blue and grey, blurred because of the raindrops that cling to the other side. It’s raining, of course, which means that you won’t be able to go out and try again tonight.

You roll your eyes, letting out an annoyed sigh, which you instantly regret when the pain seizes your entire body. You let out a grunt, pressing the back of your head into the pillow, teeth grit while you wait for it to pass.

You remind yourself that this is only a temporary setback. As soon as it’s not muddy out there anymore, you’ll try again. So, maybe not tomorrow, but the following day. You’ll do it again, and you’ll do it right.

A knock on the hospital room door makes you look over. It swings open without you granting entrance, making it a courtesy knock, and when you see who it is, there’s no explanation needed.

Tony Stark strolls into your room as if he owns the entire hospital. His eyes are on you, jaw set. You know this look, it’s the same one he gives right before he lectures you. The look on his face is the least of your worries when you see that his lip is busted and swollen. There’s also a cut across his forehead, blood leaking from it.

“What happened?” It hurts you speak, you wince, scooting to sit up higher on the bed. “How do you know I’m here?”

He shuts the door behind him, there’s no vase of flowers, not even a get well soon card in his hand. This is not a visit he’s making to check on your wellbeing, he doesn’t want to comfort you.

“I’m your emergency contact.” He tells you, stopping at the end of your bed. He sticks his hands into his pockets, eyebrows raised. “I got a call from the nurse because she thought you needed some support.”

You press your lips together, eyes drifting away from his face and to the door he just came through. Stephen is supposed to be your emergency contact, you did it when you got extremely sick during your first year of dating. He was worried you wound up dead somewhere when you hadn’t seen or talked to him for three days straight. He called every hospital in New York to find you.

Tony’s your backup, actually. You know that if anything were to happen to you, and if there’s no one else to make the decisions, he’d do what’s right and in your best interest. The two of you are very close, but you know he’d never let emotion get in the way if he knew you were suffering.

“I’m fine.” You murmur. “Just had an accident, that's all.”

“An accident?” Tony repeats. “That’s what you call raising a monster from hell?”

You blink, face twisting. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I mean, I think something exploded but there was no monster.”

“You weren’t awake for that part.” He tells you. “I just spent the last hour fighting it and your wizard buddy had to contain it.”

You stare at him, unsure if he’s telling the truth or not. A part of the evidence is his face, you suppose. You didn’t see anything, though. Just the smoke… which very well could’ve hidden it.

“What were you doing out there, anyway?” He asks.

“I’m working on something.” You adjust in the bed, settling back. “I’ve almost got it. As soon as I get out here, I’ll try again.”

“Try what again?”

You smile, “To bring them back, of course.” Tony’s face falls, he closes his eyes, shaking his head at you. “You have to hear me out first—”

“See, when Wong told me what you were up to, I didn’t believe him.” Tony reaches up, rubbing his face. “I thought that you couldn’t possibly be naive enough to—”

“Oh,” You groan out, waving your hand dismissively, “Don’t listen to Wong, he says I can’t do it. I’m so close though, I can feel it. I almost had it this afternoon, I think I just… chose the wrong thing, you know?”

“(Y/n),” Tony warns.

“See, this is one of the reasons why I didn’t want to tell you so soon. Either it’d get your hopes up, or you’d fall with Wong. Ignore him, he doesn’t know anything.”

You look out the window again. You’re not sure why he’s shutting you down like this. Out of everyone, you thought that he’d be the one that’d jump on your side. It wouldn’t be the first time he bet on something so outlandish. With him on your side, you think you have a better chance at succeeding.

Besides, you can bring back the dead, anyway. How is this that big of a stretch? And if you did pull a monster out of the ground—it’s even more the reason to believe you.

“I can bring them back, Tony.” You say.

“(Y/n), you can’t.” He says, “You tried, remember? You couldn’t then, and you can’t now.”

“Yeah, because I haven’t had my breakthrough yet.” You laugh, which dissolves into you grimacing. “I’m not strong enough. Just a couple more times, and I’ll have it.”

“No.” Tony waves his hand, as if he’s cutting off your plan. “You do any more of this, and you’ll get yourself killed.”

“That’s not true.” You shake your head. “We both don’t know if I can even die.”

“At the pace you’re going, it doesn’t even matter!” He holds his hand out. “In the end, if you die, all you would’ve been doing to yourself this entire time is torture.”

You tilt your head at him. “I know you’re worried about me, and I appreciate it. I’m fine, though, look at me.”

“I am, and I feel like I’m talking to a corpse. Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

“I’m sick, Tony. It’s just the flu.” You say.

“No, (Y/n), your body is wasting away because this,” He motions aggressively to the window. “Is all you do. Wong has been contacting me for weeks, afraid that you’re going to drop dead any minute.”

“Fine,” You sigh. “If you two are so worried, I’ll take a break, but I’m not giving this up. It’s a hiccup, as soon as I get it down—”

He cuts you off, “What would Stephen think of this?”

You stare, “Don’t.”

“No, you don’t.” He tells you. “I know we don’t have the best relationship at times, but I sure as hell won’t watch you kill yourself.”

“Then walk away.” You point to the door. “No one asked you to be here, to come in here talking about what Stephen would or wouldn’t want. You don’t know anything about him!”

“That doesn’t matter, because it doesn’t take a genius to know that he cared about you.”

“Get out.” You tell him. “Get the fuck away from me.”

He starts toward the door, not saying anything until he’s halfway out, turning to look at you. “If I catch wind that you’re doing this again, I’ll have you locked in a padded room for the rest of your life.”

Tony pulls the door shut tightly behind him.

THREE YEARS LATER

The clothes in the closet have lost their scent. After three years of picking them out to hold against your nose, there’s nothing left of him. Which means that your reasoning to stay in the Sanctum has finally expired. You have to move on.

This is by your own choice, not anyone else’s. Wong has made it explicitly clear that if you want to stay here, he will not say otherwise. He doesn’t mind it. In fact, you keep him company, even if your presence is mostly done in silence. What matters is that you’re in the room.

You took this offer, but told yourself that you couldn’t stay here forever. If you were going to be hung up on Stephen, you’d have to do it privately. So, you made a deal; the moment his room stopped feeling like it belonged to him, it was time to go.

You noticed it a few weeks ago, when you came back from the Avengers Compound to collect the last of your belongings. The team was falling apart, again, and as much as you wish you could say that you were going to stay this time, you weren’t. You were already planning on leaving for good, this was just the perfect excuse to use.

The moment you stepped foot into the bedroom, you knew there was no coming back. It felt like you were walking into a foreign planet, a place you didn’t recognize, despite being there hours earlier. Six years of living in this room, gone.

Since, you’ve spent your time trying to find an apartment you like for a decent price, that’s also close to the Sanctum. You almost cried when you got offered a perfect one a few streets away, ready for you to move in. However, your initial excitement has worn off. You’ve been dragging your feet the entire week when it comes to packing, because they had to finalize the paperwork anyway.

Which left you to do it all today.

For the past two hours, you’ve packed everything you own back into boxes and bins, stacking them by the bedroom door. You decided early on that it would be easier if you worked in phases. The hardest part would be detaching yourself from this place, which proved itself to be true.

You’ve cried a few times throughout the process, but it’s done now. The only thing left to do is bring the boxes down to your car, that’s waiting for you parked in front of the Sanctum.

You drag your feet, stopping in front of the first stack. A sigh leaves you when you reach to pull a box into your arms. When you realize it’s not heavy, you adjust to grab the one that was beneath it, too. You’re not entirely looking forward to going up and down the stairs a hundred times.

A sickness rises in your stomach when you leave the bedroom, beginning to go down the hallway. This feels wrong, like a one-sided breakup, leaving before the other person can get home. Your feet pause briefly, shoe squeaking against the freshly waxed floor.

That’s exactly what it is, isn’t it?

No, you think harshly, this is different. Stephen is never coming home. He’s lost, just like the trillions of other lives that were taken when Thanos snapped his fingers. This isn’t a breakup. A part of you wishes it were, because at least then, you’d still have a chance to see him around New York, even if it weren’t on good terms or romantically.

You suck in a deep breath, holding it as you begin your way down the stairs, the first trip of many. You drop these boxes next to the front door, wanting to pack your car all at once. That way, if there’s an issue, it’ll be easier to take it apart. You head back upstairs to repeat this process, it only takes a good fifteen minutes before you’re done.

When you go back to Stephen’s room one last time to retrieve the engraved, golden ring, your heart skips a few beats in your chest. You shuffle toward the dresser, eyes searching the surface, thinking that it might be blending in. You run your fingers over it, and come back with nothing.

You turn around to look into the room, face twisting, eyebrows pushing in as you struggle to remember if you had moved it or not. You walk to his nightstand, opening the drawers, rummaging through them, even though you could’ve sworn you never put it in here.

It’s not there. So, you move to your nightstand, where you’ve kept your jewelry in the past, especially the ring. Except, when you open the first drawer, you’re met with emptiness. You’ve already taken everything out of it, because it’s packed into one of the boxes downstairs.

You sweep the floor with your eyes, but it’s too dark in here. You throw the curtains open, flooding the room with sunlight. When you go back to looking, hoping that the ring will reflect the light, you can’t find it.

You switch to the closet, opening the doors to reveal that it’s half empty now. The only clothes left hanging are the ones that Stephen thought were too important to fold, and to keep them from wrinkling. There’s nothing here, not even in the darkest corner.

Did it fall under the bed?

On your knees, you press the side of your face to the floor, but the only thing under here are the dust bunnies. You make sure of this, too, when you grab a broom to bring it all out.

The panic begins to settle in, spreading through your body. How did you manage to misplace the ring? It’s the most valuable thing to you. You’d think you’d be more careful with something as sentimental as that—a ring from your dead boyfriend.

“Maybe it’s in a box.” You murmur to yourself to calm down, reel in the insanity that’s beginning to rise.

You head out of the bedroom, looking at the boxes over the railing. Once you’re down the stairs and in the foyer, you pull the first box off of the stack, opening the cardboard flaps, and pulling all of its contents out. There is no ring, so you push the objects away, off to the side, not bothering to repack it.

The further you get through the pile, the more hysterical you grow. The box that you’d packed with your jewelry doesn’t have it. The neatly folded clothes, now tossed on the floor, don’t have it caught in the cloth. It’s not stuck between the books, you didn’t accidentally throw it with the rest of your trinkets, it’s not with your electronics.

Everything you own is strewn across the foyer, as you continue to tear them apart.

It’s not here.

You get back to your feet, struggling to breathe, the tears starting.

The front door suddenly opens, you look over to see that it’s Wong. He gives you a wide smile at first, which slowly begins to fall when he sees the expression and the state the foyer is in.

“What’s the matter?” He asks.

“I lost the ring.” You whisper. “I don’t—I don’t know where it is. I’ve looked everywhere.” You turn around to motion to the mess you’ve made. “I don’t have it here, I even checked my car. I set it aside so I wouldn’t lose it and it’s not here. The one thing I carry with me and I’m stupid enough—”

“(Y/n),” Wong says, coming to grab your shoulders. You can feel his fingers pressing into the metal that makes up your left shoulder. A replacement that Tony made for you, covering the entire cost. “(Y/n), stop.”

You press your lips together, face contorting as you nod, trying to focus.

“I told you I was taking it to get cleaned, remember?” He asks, face twisted. He removes his hands, reaching into his coat pocket to pull out the small silk bag.

“Oh.” You breathe, feeling your body relax.

You cup your hands, watching as he carefully shakes the ring out of the bag. It’s polished, smooth. When you tilt it to see the inside, the engraving is there, untouched.

“Okay.” You say.

“You’re okay?” He confirms.

You nod, pushing it back to where it belongs on your thumb. “I’m sorry, Wong.”

“Don’t apologize.” He tells you, turning to face the foyer. “Do you need help repacking?”

“Will you?” You ask.

“Of course.”

FIVE YEARS LATER

The sound of a distantly familiar ringtone begins from the coffee table in your living room, again.

Your eyebrows draw in, turning your head to the side to listen through the first few notes. As you reach for the towel on the counter to dry your hands, you try to remember who it could belong to. It’s garish, dramatic. Whoever the person is, they must resemble the noise.

The bell finally rings.

It’s Stark.

You toss the towel back on the counter when you leave the kitchen. There’s a faint sense of urgency in your steps, considering that you’ve let him call you twice already, figuring that whoever it was would leave you a voicemail.

In fairness, it’s been a long time since you and Tony talked to each other, muchless on the phone. If you remember correctly, the last conversation you had with him happened right before you left the Avengers. Since then, there hasn’t really been a need to keep up-to-date with him.

All of his life updates are posted on social media, anyway. The only thing you’re obligated to do each year is send his daughter presents when the holidays come around. After all, it’s the least you can do after he saved your life and set you straight.

Sure enough, Tony’s face lights up your screen, a sigh escapes you. You pull the phone into your hand, swiping across the glass to accept the call. You press it to your ear, “Hello?”

“Do you ever answer your phone?” Tony’s voice comes through. “I mean, seriously, it took me three tries for you to pick up? What if I were dying?”

You roll your eyes, letting out a light laugh. “I would hope you’d call Pepper before me, considering we haven’t spoken to each other in almost three years.”

“Has it really been that long?”

“Yes, Tony. Is everything okay?” You ask, walking back to the kitchen.

“I’m fine, (Y/n). Listen, something’s happened.”

You put the call on speaker, setting your phone next to the sink so you can resume doing the dishes. “Good or bad?”

“Both.” He answers. You pull a plate out of the soapy water, scrubbing at it with a sponge. “You remember that fight between me and Cap, right? The one in Germany? There was the guy who could go from big to small?”

You hum, “Scott Lang?”

The sound of him snapping fills the air. “Yes, that guy. Well, he, Natasha and Cap showed up at my house the other day.”

He pauses, not going on any further. You wonder if there’s a point to this story, or if he’s just calling to tell you it’s weird that Scott flew from Los Angeles all the way to New York. Which you guess it is, considering…

Your hands freeze on the plate, eyebrows drawing in. “That’s not possible, Scott Lang was killed in the blip.”

“Yeah, I thought so too, but he’s here. They came over talking about quantum jumping, and how he got stuck in the middle of it when Thanos snapped his fingers. Five years felt like five hours to him.”

“And he’s alive?” You ask.

“Yes.” He sighs into the phone. “You know I wouldn’t be calling you if I thought I was just getting your hopes up.”

This is true. When you were parting ways with the Avengers, you and Tony had a long discussion about the future, and where both of you stood on the matter. You told him that you wanted to retire your suit for good. With there being so many heroes in New York again, there wasn’t a reason for all of you to be active anymore.

This set up the idea that this could be the last time you came face to face with them, because it was partially your plan. You can’t be sucked in if you refuse to be involved. He respected your wishes on this, and told you that if anything were to happen to you, he’d be there in a second if you needed him to be.

And before you left, you came to an agreement; if there was a way that either of you could turn back time and fix everything in a reasonable way, you’d be there, no questions asked.

“Okay…” You prompt him.

“(Y/n), I figured it out.” He tells you. “I figured out how to time travel. It’s taken me…” You can picture him shaking his head. “But I think we can go back and fix this. I think we can bring them back.”

You set the clean plate off to the side, placing the sponge back where it belongs in the ceramic dish. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

You lean over the sink, nodding slowly. “What did they say about it?”

“I haven’t told them yet. I thought you should be the first to know, that’s the deal we made, right?”

“Right.” You agree. “How soon are we doing this?”

“Today.” He says. “I’ll pick you up. We’ll sort it out with them when we get to the Avengers Facility.’

Your eyes land on the gold ring that’s currently sitting on the window sill. “I’ll be ready.” You murmur. “Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

—

“I remember why I stopped letting you drive me around.” You say, watching as the Facility grows closer. “Cause you’ve got a lead foot.”

“Shut up.” Tony tells you, taking a turn. “We’re almost there.”

“Try not to send us through the windshield before then.” You mutter, being thrown into the door, tires squealing against the asphalt.

As you near the front, you can see that Steve is standing outside of it, hands on his hips. Tony pulls up right before him, putting the car in park when it’s come to a complete stop. He rolls the window down, lazily moving his head to look at Steve.

“Why the long face?” He asks after a moment of silence. “Let me guess, he turned into a baby.”

Steve nods, looking away. “Among other things, yeah. What are you two doing here?”

You throw the car door open to get out before he can start driving again.

“It’s the EPR Paradox.” Tony gets out, too. “Instead of pushing Lang through time, you might’ve wound up pushing time through Lang. It’s tricky, dangerous. Somebody could have cautioned you against it.”

You shut the door, walking around the car to join them.

“You did.” Steve says.

“Oh, did I?” Tony mocks being shocked. “Well, thank god I’m here. Regardless, I fixed it.” He holds up his hand, which has the time traveling cuff—or whatever it is, you stopped trying to understand it after he explained it the second time. “A fully functioning time-space GPS.”

Steve smiles.

“I just want peace.” Tony holds up two fingers. “Turns out resentment is corrosive, and I hate it.”

“Me, too.” Steve says, looking at you. “What are you doing?”

“I’m here to help, obviously.” You give him a bright smile. “I can be useful, sometimes.”

“We got one shot at getting these stones, but I gotta tell you my priorities.” Tony says. “Bring back what we lost, I hope, yes. Keep what I found, I have to, at all costs. And maybe not die trying, would be nice.”

Steve nods again, holding out his hand. “Sounds like a deal.”

Tony takes it, they shake on it. You let out air through your nose, shaking your head as you wander away, staying close to watch Tony open the trunk of the car. He pulls out Steve’s shield, dumping the blanket and stuffed animal back into the car.

“Tony, I don’t know.” Steve mutters.

“Why? He made it for you.” He flips it around. “Plus, honestly, I have to get it out of the garage before Morgan takes it sledding.”

Steve takes it, holding it across his arm. “Thank you, Tony.”

“Will you keep that a little quiet? Didn’t bring one for the whole team.” He pulls out a red case, reaching up with his other hand to press the button that closes the trunk for him. “We are getting the whole team, yeah?”

“We’re working on that right now.” Steve says.

“Cool.” You turn around to walk to the doors. “Until we have everyone here, I will be sitting on my ass and doing exactly nothing.”

“Not very different from what you usually do, right?” Tony asks behind you.

You give him a sarcastic smile.

—

“Okay, so the how works.” Steve begins. “Now we gotta figure out the when and the where.”

There’s a set of three screens he’s standing by, each one showing two stones. It’s sorted into detail by what they look like, what they can be contained in, what building they were originally found in, and who might have them in their possession.

Your eyes are set on the most obvious one, the Time Stone. You and the others already pretty much agreed that you’ll be going after it. You know the most about it, after spending years of being around Stephen.

“Almost everyone in this room has had an encounter with at least one of the six Infinity Stones.”

“Or substitute the word ‘encounter’ for ‘damn near been killed’ by one of the six Infinity Stones.” Tony says, standing on the other side. There’s a coffee cup in one of his hands.

“Well, I haven’t, but I don’t even know what the hell you’re all talking about.” Scott says.

“Regardless, we only have enough Pym Particles for one round-trip each.” Bruce tells you, walking around the back of Scott’s chair. “And these stones have been in a lot of different places throughout history.”

“Our history.” Tony emphasizes. “So, not a lot of convenient spots to just drop in, yeah?”

“Which means we have to pick our targets.” Clint’s got his eyes on the ground.

“Correct.”

“So, let’s start with the Aether.” Steve says, eyes set on a specific target. “Thor, what do you know?”

Thor, who has since gained weight, forgotten how to shower, and grown a beard, sits in the corner of the room, slouched as deeply as possible in the chair. There’s a beer in one of his hands, the other rests on his stomach. The pair of sunglasses on his face prohibits you from seeing where his eyes are.

Everyone turns to look at him, waiting.

“Is he asleep?” Natasha asks.

“No, no. I”m pretty sure he’s dead.” Rhodes says.

Tony lets out a sigh, shaking his head. He slaps a hand on his shoulder, which jumpstarts Thor. “Rise and shine, buddy. What do you know about the Aether?”

Thor groans, “I was just about to get up.”

“Right.”

He gets to his feet, wanting to the front. “Uh, where to start?” He pulls off the sunglasses, holding them in his hand. “Um… The Aether, firstly, is not a stone. Someone called it a stone before.” He points at Steve briefly. “Um, it’s more of an angry sludge sort of a thing… so someone’s gonna need to amend that and stop saying that.” He tilts his head back to squirt eye drops into his eyes.

Your mouth falls open slightly, watching him do this. Is this what you looked like to everyone else when you freaked out that first year? Of course, you were the opposite of whatever Thor is representing, but still. His coping mechanisms are a hell of a lot worse than yours were… you think.

Clint comes beside you, pulling a chair out to sit down.

“Here’s an interesting story, though, about the Aether. My grandfather, many years ago, had to hide the stone from the Dark Elves.” He makes a ghostly sound, laughing in the middle. “Scary beings. So, Jane, actually—” The middle screen changes to show her face. “Oh, there she is. Yeah, so Jane was a—was an old flame of mine.”

You rub your face, letting out a sigh while you tilt your head back to look at the ceiling. These past few days already have been long, while you waited for them to design the time traveling suits, build the platform, and send Clint into the future as a test run. You can’t imagine what today and tomorrow are going to be like, if this is how it’s starting.

“You know, she stuck her hand inside a rock this one time and then the Aether stuck itself inside her and she became very, very sick. And so I had to take her to Asgard, which is where I’m from and we had to try and fix her.” Thor continues.

You swivel in your chair, facing Natasha. She raises her eyebrows, and you grab her notepad, dragging it in front of you. Clint offers up a pen on the other side, you take it, writing down that Jane Foster has the Aether in Asgard.

“We were dating at the time, you see and I got to introduce her to my mother,” He’s waving around the sunglasses. “Who’s dead and, um… Oh, you know, Jane and I aren’t even dating anymore, so.” He sniffs. “Yes, these things happen, though. You know? Nothing lasts forever. The only thing that—”

Tony goes up to Thor, grabbing him. “Why don’t you come sit down?”

“I’m not done yet.” He pushes Tony away. “The only thing that is permanent in life is impermanence.”

Tony claps twice. “Awesome. Eggs? Breakfast?”

“No. I’d like a Bloody Mary.” Thor smiles.

You take in a deep breath, “Can I get one, too, then?”

Tony looks at you, “Don’t encourage this.”

“Just something to get me through the rest of the day.” You reason, a teasing smile hinting at your lips.

He squints at you, directing Thor to sit back down in one of the chairs. “Let’s take a break, we’ll regroup at dinner.”

The group breaks apart, eager to get out of this room and away from Thor. You stay where you’re seated, and Tony doesn’t move, either. Thor seems disinterested, turning the can of beer on the table. Once the door has shut, you can’t contain your laughter.

They look at you, waiting for you to let them in on what you find so funny. You wave your hand, turning around in the chair to bury your face in your hands. You forget just how ridiculous this team can be at times. It’s more than just crime fighting, it’s camaraderie.

“Okay,” You breathe, facing them again. “Thor, can you give me a year where Jane was in Asgard when she was infected with the Aether?”

“Oh, sure.” Thor says, he’s composed himself. “It was twenty-thirteen. It won’t mean anything unless it’s in the Stone form, though.”

You hum, flipping the page over, writing down everyone that is planning to help. Next to Thor’s name, you put ‘R’ for the Reality Stone, making him in charge of that. He’ll need someone to go with him, of course, because he’s in no state to have this big of a responsibility, but you’ll figure that out later on. The point is that Asgard was his home, he’ll know how to navigate it.

Beside your name, you write ‘T’ for the time stone. No matter what the others say, you won’t let them take this one from you. If they want to help you, you’ll drag someone along. As far as you’re concerned, this will be under control.

“What are you doing?” Tony asks, coming around the table.

“Sorting this out.” You murmur, flipping back to the original page. You begin to write what you know about the Time Stone, which is more than what Thor could give you about the Reality. “Those who know the most about the stones should be in charge of them, I figured you don’t really think otherwise.”

You look at him, he makes a face, nodding to agree with you.

“What are you thinking about for dinner? Takeout will be on me.” Tony says, crossing his arms.

“Burgers.” Thor says, “A nice juicy burger.”

You make a face, “I’ve been craving Chinese lately.”

A few hours later, after everyone has finished what they were doing with the suits or the portal, you find yourself back in the room. Your suggestion on Chinese food was fairly popular with the others, so Tony took the order and had the food delivered to the Facility.

“All right, Ratchet, go for it.” Tony motions once everyone is settled in their seats.

“Rocket.” He corrects, giving him a look. “Quill said he stole the Power Stone from Morag.” The screen lights up purple, you set your fork down to write what he says into the notepad.

“Is that a person?” Bruce asks, smacking on his ice cream.

“No, Morag’s a planet.” Rocket says, standing on the table. “Quill was a person.”

“Like a planet? Like in outer space?” Scott asks from the other end of the table.

“Oh, look.” Rocket places his hand on Scott’s head, beginning to give him a head rub. “It’s like a little puppy, all happy and everything. Do you wanna go to space? You wanna go to space, puppy?” Scott pulls his head away, unamused. “I’ll take you to space.”

“Have you been to Morag?” You ask, looking up from the paper. “You or Nebula?”

“No.” Rocket says, turning around to face you.

“I haven’t, either.” She shakes her head. “I believe it’s kept in a temple.”

You blow a piece of hair out of your face. “Okay…”

You flip the page, finding her name on the list, writing ‘P’. You chew on the inside of your lip, thinking. When you look at Tony, you find his eyes on you.

“What’s the problem?”

“We’re going to have to go in pairs, anyway, right?” You ask, “What if…”

You write ‘R’ next to Rocket, knowing that he and Thor have worked together in the past, during the first fight with Thanos. They went together to Nidavellir, where Thor got Stormbreaker. They clearly get along fine. As for Nebula, lately she’s been working with Rhodes. That’s why you decide to pair them together.

Tony tilts his head, “I don’t see why not.”

It’s the following day when you finally get time to talk about the Stones again, since the conversation on Morag was thrown out the window when technicalities came into play. The group of you called it a night when Thor started talking about Jane again.

“Thanos found the Soul Stone on Vormir.” Nebula murmurs from the front.

“What is Vormir?” Natasha asks, holding the notepad. She’s been up all night writing notes, building off of what you’ve already got in there. When she offered to take it from you, you didn’t argue.

“A dominion of death at the very center of celestial existence.” She says, voice lowering. “It’s where Thanos murdered my sister.”

There’s a moment of silence between the few of you. Not everyone could make it to this time around. Tony opted out because he decided off the bat that he didn’t want to be involved with anything other than the Space Stone—the tesseract—because he believes that’ll be an easy grab, too.

Steve sighs.

“Not it.” Scott mutters.

This causes several people to look at him.

The meeting room is trashed two days later, there’s papers scattered across the room, as well as folders. There’s books opened to certain pages, laying open on the floor to be easily picked up and resumed when needed. Tony and Natasha lay on the table, with Bruce being on the floor, considering he’s permanently part-Hulk now.

You sit in the recliner in the corner, reading through all the notes you’ve gathered thus far, trying to put together a fairly decent timeline.

“That Time Stone guy.” Natasha finally breaks the silence.

“Doctor Strange.” Bruce says, you look up from your notes, clicking the pen.

“Stephen Strange.” You murmur.

“Yeah, what kind of doctor was he?” She asks.

“Ear-nose-throat meets rabbit-from-hat.” Tony says, he’s turned on his side, rubbing his face.

“He was a neurosurgeon, that’s why he likes being called Doctor.” You tell her. “He worked at the Metro-General hospital.”

“Nice place in the Village, though.” Bruce says.

“Yeah, on Sullivan Street?” Tony says back.

Bruce hums. “No…”

“Bleecker Street.” You correct.

“Wait, he lived in New York?” Natasha asks, no longer spinning the pen in her hand.

“Yeah—”

“No, he lived in Toronto.” Tony says.

“Uh, yeah, on Bleecker and Sullivan.” Bruce says.

“Have you been listening to anything?” Tony asks Natasha.

She holds her hand up. “Guys, if you pick the right year, there are three stones in New York.”

Bruce sits up, “Shut the front door.”

You nod, forcing the recliner back to its original position. “Space, Mind and Time, huh?”

“Yeah.” She says. “All we need to do is figure out who’s getting which one.”

An emergency team meeting is called. The four of you move to a different room to be in, because the last one is trashed. The others begin to trickle in steadily, all asking questions on what happened.

It isn’t until the last person comes inside, do you begin. “Everyone, this has gotten a whole lot easier.”

Tony nods, walking up to the projection. At the top, it’s titled ‘Time Heist’, courtesy of Scott, who’s attached to the idea of it. The sections below are broken into three. The first one being New York, which has Time, Space and Mind. The second one is Asgard, which obviously holds the Reality Stone. The third one is Morag / Vormir, for the Power and Soul Stones.

“We have divided the teams.” Tony says. “For team Asgard, we have Thor and Rocket, Morag will be Nebula and Rhodes, and Vormir is Natasha and Clint. As for New York, it will be the rest of us.” He turns around to face you. “(Y/n) has volunteered to grab the Time Stone, Bruce will go with her. Which leaves Scott, Steve and I to get the Space and Mind Stone, because it’ll be in the same buildings at the same time.”

“All right. We have a plan.” Steve says, crossing the room to stand in front of the projection. “Six stones, three teams, one shot.”

You stand up, walking to stand next to Steve. You grab his shoulder, making him turn to you. “Now we can get this son of a bitch.”

—

“Five years ago, we lost. All of us.” Steve begins. “We lost friends. We lost family. We lost a part of ourselves. Today, we have a chance to take it all back. You know your teams. You know your missions. Get the stones. Get them back. One round-trip each. No mistakes, no do-overs. Most os uf are going somewhere we know. That doesn’t mean we should know what to expect.

“Be careful.” He says. “Look out for each other. This is the fight of our lives, and we’re gonna win. Whatever it takes. Good luck.” He backs off.

“He’s pretty good at that.” Rocket says.

“Right?” Scott looks at him.

“All right. You heard the man. Stroke those keys, Jolly Green.” Tony tells Bruce.

“Trackers engaged.”

Clint holds out his hand, looking at the Milano—Rocket’s spaceship—which has been shrunk to make for easier transportation.

“You promise to bring that back in one piece, right?” Rocket asks.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Clint dismisses him. “Okay, I’ll do my best.”

“As promises go, that was pretty lame.” Rocket crosses his arms.

“It’s Clint, everything about him is lame.” You say, and when Clint looks at you, you give him our sweetest smile. “Isn’t that right?”

“Be quiet.” He tells you.

Bruce comes up the stairs to the platform, stopping to stand right next to you. He slaps his wrist, causing the platform to begin beeping. You take in a deep breath, tilting your head from side to side.

“See ya in a minute.” Natasha smiles.

The helmet comes over your face, you look down, finding that the ground has opened up, sucking you inside. You travel through… you’re not entirely sure how to describe it. At first, it’s a bright tunnel of color that quickly submerges you in blue, traveling through a molecule and into a white light.

You land on your feet in an alleyway, the street in front of you is covered in debris and overturned cars. The time traveling suit disappears, leaving you in a pair of relatively normal clothes for this time. The sound of screaming, sirens and the alien beings moving around and shooting is slightly overwhelming for a couple seconds.

Steve marches forward. “All right, we all have our assignments. Two stones uptown, one stone down.” He must decide the coast is clear, turning around to come back your way. “Stay low. Keep an eye on the clock.”

Hulk roars, you look around Steve to watch as he lifts a car, smashing it into the alien, clearly killing him. Another one comes to save his comrade, but turns around and runs at the sight of past Hulk plucking a tire off the car and throwing it at a streetlight. Unsatisfied with his original smash, he jumps on the dismembered car a couple times, before stomping away.

Bruce covers his face, embarrassed.

“Maybe smash a few things along the way.” Steve suggests.

“I think it’s gratuitous, but whatever.” Bruce says, ripping off his tank top, walking to the street.

You shake your head at him, rolling your eyes. You begin to walk away, backwards. “This shouldn’t take long. Are you sure you don’t want my help with the other two stones?”

“We’ve got it covered, (Y/n).” Steve gives you a hard nod.

“If you say so.” You tilt your head, before following after Bruce, who’s lazily punching cars.

You walk behind him, amused at the way he tries to mimic how he was in the past. He was incredibly, unnecessarily destructive, wasn’t he? You can’t imagine the amount of things he tore apart or broke solely because he could.

“I think we’ll travel faster if we take the roofs.” He finally says, stopping.

“Why do you think that?” You ask, catching up with him.

He opens his mouth, letting out a sigh. “I don’t want to do this the entire way.”

“Well, unfortunately, you don’t have a baby carrier on you, so you don’t really have an option.” You shrug, “Just enjoy the walk.”

“I can’t.”

“Then don’t break shit, I don’t care.” You laugh, “It’s only a few minutes from here.”

He looks disappointed at your indifference, but he admits that you’re right. Bleecker Street and Sullivan isn’t that far when he’s listening to your directions on the quickest shortcuts. However, you have a problem when the front door to the Sanctum doesn’t open.

Your mouth pops open, tongue clicking. You place your hands on your hips, tilting your head back to see the roof of the building. Your face smooths over when you see orange magic shoot at an alien, causing it to explode.

“Get us up there.” You tell Bruce, it’s a command.

“Sure.” He says.

You allow him to pick you up, setting you on his shoulder. You struggle to balance while he scales the building, but it’s worth it the second you reach the top. He starts for the door that’ll lead you inside of the Sanctum, you don’t move from where you stand, eyes on the lady standing feet away.

A sinking feeling of disappointment hits.

“I’d be careful going that way. We just had the floors waxed.” She tells Bruce before he can open the door.

She’s British, she has an accent, and she’s bald. The robes she’s wearing is a shade of mustard yellow. And she has the Eye of Agamotto around her neck, the same thing that Stephen had in his possession. The Time Stone is right here.

The longer you stare at her, the more you believe you’ve seen her before, or at least heard of her. You go down the three steps, going to join her. You refuse to take your eyes off of her.

“Yeah, I’m looking for Doctor Strange.” Bruce says.

The lady lifts her head slightly. “You’re about five years too early.” She steps away, toward the edge of the roof. “Stephen Strange is currently performing surgery—” she lifts her hand to motion, “about twenty blocks that way.” She stops walking. “What do you want from him?”

“The Time Stone.” You tell her.

“Ah!” She looks down at the Eye. “I’m afraid not.”

“Sorry, but I wasn’t asking.” Bruce says, stepping over the metal bar to walk toward her.

“You don’t want to do this.” She warns him.

“Bruce, I think we should listen to her.” You tell him.

“Ah, you’re right, I don’t. But I need that stone and I don’t have time to debate it.” He says, hand reaching to grab it.

She slams the heel of her hand into his chest, Bruce falls to the ground, unconscious. You stare with an open mouth for a brief second, and then you snap it shut, looking at her.

Her eyes are already on you, head tilted. “Are you going to take it by force, too?”

“No.”

She smiles. “Let’s start over, shall we?”

It hits you after this, you squint at her. “You’re the one that Stephen and Wong talked about all the time. What is it—?” You wonder aloud, eyes drifting as you think. “Ancient One, isn’t that what they called you?” When you look at her again, she’s got her eyebrows raised. “You’re the Sorcerer Supreme.”

“You’re wise.” She says. “What’s your name?”

“(Y/n).” You tell her, she begins to think about it. “I’m not a student of yours, I’m just dating one. We need the Time Stone, it’s urgent.”

“For what, exactly?”

“We need it so we can bring back half of the population of every living being.” The words are grave, her facial expression changes. “We’re from eleven years in the future. And this is the only solution we have left. We have teams gathering the other five Infinity Stones, and when we bring them together in our time, we’ll be able to fix the damage that was done.”

“You want me to hand it over?” She asks you. “No.”

She begins to walk away, heading for the door. You follow after her. “Please, you don’t understand.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help you, (Y/n).” Her pace doesn’t slow. “If I give up the Time Stone to help your reality, I’m dooming my own.”

“With all due respect, all right…” Bruce’s voice echoes, you turn to look behind you, finding him in his original body, not the half-Hulk, half-Bruce one. Except, he’s see-through, a phantom, a ghost. He joins you two up the stairs, jogging in front of her to make her stop. “I’m not sure the science really supports that.”

With him standing between her and the door, she humors you. She reaches forward, yanking out an orange line right in the middle of them. It stretches far between the blocks of New York on both sides.

“The Infinity Stones create what you experience as the flow of time.” The stones create a ring around the orange. She reaches forward to flick the Time Stone. “Remove one of the stones and that flow splits.” You watch as a black line branches off from where the ring of stones is, creating its own path through the air. “Now, this may benefit your reality but my new one, not so much.

“In this new branch reality without our chief weapon against the forces of darkness our world would be overrun. Millions will suffer. So, tell me, Doctor. Can your science prevent all that?”

Bruce is rubbing his hands together, “No, but we can erase it. Because once we’re done with the stones we can return each one to its own timeline at the moment it was taken. So, chronologically—” he pulls the Time Stone out of the air, placing it back in the ring, remedifying the split timeline. “In that reality, it never left.”

She turns around, walking away. “Yes, but you’re leaving out the most important part.” She stops at the end of the roof. “In order to return the stones, you have to survive.”

“We will.” You tell her. “I promise.”

“I can’t risk this reality on a promise. It’s the duty of the Sorcerer Supreme to protect the Time Stone.”

“I know.” You murmur. “But Stephen had no choice but to give it to Thanos.”

She stares at you, “What did you say?”

“Stephen gave the stone to Thanos.”

“Willingly?” She asks.

“Yes.” Bruce says behind you.

“Why?”

“We lost the battle so that we could win the war.” You tell her. “It’s what had to be done.”

“I see.” She murmurs after a long moment of silence. She reaches over Bruce’s shoulder, summoning his body.

Bruce returns, back to being giant and green. You watch as she bends her fingers, moving her hands apart, unlocking the Eye. Inside sits the stone, she pulls it out, you cup your hand.

She doesn’t drop it quite yet. “Strange is meant to be the best of us.”

“He is.” You assure her. “He handed it over for a reason.”

“I fear you might be right.” She places the stone in your hand.

You’ve only held it one time before, when Stephen had to fix the Eye of Agamotto. It’s meant to be unbreakable with his spells, but there’s always an exception. He saw how much it bothered you, seeing the Time Stone out of place, and elected you to hold it while he repaired the Eye.

When you told him you were afraid you’d break it, he said that provides more comfort to him, because it means that you’ll be careful with it.

“Thank you.” Bruce says.

She steps forward, hands over yours. “I’m counting on you, (Y/n). We all are.”

“I’ll bring it back.” You tell her.

She lets you and Bruce go through the Sanctum to get to the street, not wanting you to crawl back down the building. As soon as you’ve stepped foot back on the sidewalk, you pass the Time Stone over to Bruce, “Here, you take it back.”

His face twists. “We’re going back together. Don’t you want to hold onto it?”

You shake your head. “No, there’s someone I have to see first.”

“You can’t, (Y/n), if you see Stephen, you’ll ruin the timeline.”

“That’s not who I’m going to.” You wave him off. “I won’t talk to her. It’ll be a few minutes.”

He nods, holding out his arm to type in the present day’s date. You watch as he warps into the air, disappearing. You begin to walk away, reaching up to touch your earpiece, “This is (Y/n) to Tony, Bruce has taken the stone back. How are we looking for the other two?”

Tony sighs in your ear. “There’s been an issue, Loki took the Tesseract and disappeared.”

Your feet pause, but quickly go back to walking, because you don’t have much time to be out here. “Okay, what’s the plan? You don’t have enough particles.”

“Cap and I are going back further in time, we’ll be able to get particles and the stone in the same place. We’re sending Scott back to the present. What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna visit someone. You two be careful.”

“We will.” Steve’s voice comes over. “Remember the plan, don’t interact with anyone.”

“I know.” You tell him.

It isn’t that hard for you to find young (Y/n), mostly because of the shredded asphalt and the decomposing bodies that lay on top of it. You follow this careless path, and divert from it to go through an alleyway, where it leads you right to where she is, standing a few feet away.

There’s a smile on her face, that dissolves into concentration, as she gets on the ground, hunching over to pull more of the dead out of the Earth. You remember this, it’s moments after Tony found you and told you to draw in as many of the Chitauri as you possibly could—as long as you could handle it.

You were so young back then, you had absolutely no idea what you were doing. Or that this would eventually lead you to becoming a hero, yourself. That day, you took a leap of faith, and it completely changed the trajectory of your life.

If you hadn’t done this, who knows where you’d be right now. If life would have treated you any differently. If you still would’ve joined the Avengers, just a few years later down the line. Or if you’d ever even get to meet Stephen.

It doesn’t matter, because you don’t think you’d ever tell your past self to change her mind.

“You’ve got this.” You say to her, eyes flickering between the time system and her, where she’s fighting. “Just keep pushing, you’re on the right path.”

As you type the date in, you watch as she looks up from the ground, eyes landing on you. You submit the time, and just before you leave, you hold a hand up to wave at her.

You’re sucked through the warp, as you travel backwards through the tunnel you took to get here. And despite leaving at different times, it joins you with the rest of your group. You arrive at the Avengers Facility at the same time.

The helmet falls back at the same time it does for everyone else, the suit following directly after.

“Did we get ‘em all?” Bruce asks.

Rhodes laughs. “Are you telling me this actually worked?”

Clint falls to his knees, staring off in front of him. You know this look, something’s happened. Your eyes try to switch to Natasha, hoping that she’ll offer an explanation, but she’s absent.

“Oh, Clint.” You murmur.

“Clint, where’s Nat?” Bruce asks.

Clint’s eyes are watery, his lips turning further down. There’s a long moment of silence between all of you, as the news settles in. You were warned by Nebula that the way Thanos got the stone was through losing his daughter. You were all hoping that she was being difficult and her actions got her killed, not… this.

Bruce falls to his knees, slamming his fist into the platform.

You sigh, shaking your head. “Shit.”

—

“All right, the glove’s ready.” Rocket says, adjusting the fingers. “Question is, who’s gonna snap their freakin’ fingers?”

“I’ll do it.” Thor says, coming over.

“Excuse me?” Tony asks, turning around.

“It’s okay.” He steps closer to the glove.

“Stop, stop.” Tony reaches to grab Thor at the same time Steve does. “Slow down.”

“Thor. Just wait.” Steve tells him. “We haven’t decided who’s gonna put that on yet.”

“I’m sorry. WHat, we’re all just sitting around waiting for the right opportunity?”

“We should at least discuss it.” Scott says.

“Look, sitting here staring at the thing is not gonna bring everybody back.” He brings his fingers to his thumbs on both hands. “I’m the strongest Avenger, okay? So, this responsibility falls upon me. It’s my duty.”

“Normally, you’re right.” Tony steps in front of him. “It’s not about that.”

“It’s not that.” He shushes him. “Stop it! Just let me. Just let me do it.” He whispers. “JUst let me do something good. Something right.”

“Look, it’s not just the fact that that glove is channeling enough energy to light up a continent. I’m telling you. You’re in no condition.” Tony tells him.

“What do you think is coursing through my veins right now?” His hands are on Tony’s shoulders.

“Cheez Whiz?” Rhodes suggests, you snort.

Thor is unamused, holding out a finger to quiet him. “Lightning.”

“Yeah.”

“Lightning.” Thor repeats.

“LIghtning won’t help you, pal.” Bruce says, finally going forward. “It’s gotta be me.” Thor looks at the ground, Tony moves away. “You saw what those stones did to Thanos. They almost killed him. None of you could survive.” He stops in front of the glove.

“How do we know you will?” Steve asks.

“We don’t. But the radiation’s mostly gamma. It’s like… uh, I was made for this.”

“If this is what you want.” You say, backing away.

Bruce nods, reaching into the case to pull out the glove.

“Good to go, yeah?” Tony asks.

“Let’s do it.”

“Okay, remember, everyone Thanos snapped away five years ago, you’re just bringing them back to now, today. Don’t change anything from the last five years.” Tony says.

“Got it.”

Your suit comes to cover your body, preparing for the worst. You shuffle behind Tony and Clint, where Tony brings up a shield as another form of protection.

“Friday, do me a favor and activate Barn Door Protocol, will ya?”

You watch as the skylight slowly covers with metal, as well as all exits, including doors and windows. That way, if anything goes wrong, the only people that’ll be affected are those who are standing in this room.

“Everybody comes home.” Bruce mutters, slowly pulling the glove on. The machinery adjusts to fit his hand, rather than Tony’s. When it secures, it sends a visible shock up his arm, all six Infinity Stones begin to glow.

Bruce drops to his knee, groaning, veins popping out of his forehead. He grabs the glove with his free hand, watching as it transforms.

“Take it off. Take it off!” Thor shouts.

“No, wait.” Steve holds out his hand. “Bruce, are you okay?”

Bruce throws his head back, the fabric on his arm begins to burn up, the colors of the stones are beneath his skin, traveling up the underside of his jaw. He’s in pain.

“Talk to me, Banner.” Tony says.

“I’m okay.” He breathes, as the stones begin to settle. “I’m okay.” He pants heavily, slowly lifting his hand. His green skin is now charred, black, glowing red underneath. Like bubbling lava.

He screams, preparing his fingers, and then snaps.

The glove falls off in an instant, Bruce unconscious on the floor, arm is sizzling.

“Bruce!” Steve crouches down next to him.

Clint kicks the glove away, Tony joins Steve. “Don’t move him.” The healing solution comes from his fingers, coating Bruce’s arm in white.

“Did it work?” Bruce asks, grabbing Steve’s arm.

“We’re not sure.” Thor says. “It—it’s okay.”

The metal sheets begin to lift, doors opening, allowing you to leave. Scott wanders away, and so does Clint a second later.

“Can you feel anything, (Y/n)?” Steve asks, looking at you.

You suck in a breath, closing your eyes, concentrating hard. You discovered a couple years ago that there wasn’t a need for the dramatics if you actually put some of your own energy in to pull some out. You sacrifice a little of yourself, digging deep, feeling around for the same heavy weight that there’s been for years.

“I don’t…” You murmur, head turning to the side, eyebrows drawing in. “I can’t say for sure.” You open your eyes. “It might be the building, it works better when I’m outside. I could go out—”

“Don’t bother.” Clint murmurs, picking up his vibrating phone, pressing it to his ear. “Honey.”

“Guys…” Scott breathes. “I think it worked.”

A smile breaks through when you make eye contact with Tony, finding your happiness mirrored onto him.

You did it.

You touch the ring on your thumb.

A blast of hot air throws you across the room, slamming you into the cement wall, head cracking against it. An explosion shakes the ground. A wave of dizziness hits you as you reach to touch the spot on your forehead, fingers coated in blood.

One second, you’re staring at your friends, and the next, the building is collapsing. The ground gives way beneath you, a scream leaves your mouth as you begin to slide, knowing full well that the Facility goes hundreds of feet underground.

The suit comes to cover your body as your fingers slip from the cement. Your stomach flies to your throat, lodging itself there as you begin to fall with the chunks of rock and debris.

Another rocket hits nearby, as your body is engulfed in fire.

When you wake, a sharp stabbing feeling flies through your abdomen. You reach to grab it, hands coming in contact with a steel rod. It’s wet, but not from your blood. The water from the plumbing system and the lake nearby rain down on you, causing sparks from severed electric wires to zap.

“(Y/n)?” You hear Bruce ask. “Are you with us?”

You struggle to breathe, hearing every breath enter and leave your mouth. You squeeze your eyes shut, head resting back. “I’m stuck.”

“I know, we’ll get Rhodey and Rocket over there to help you.” He says.

“No, Bruce.” You gasp, wincing. “I’ve been impaled.”

The sound of rushing water fills the air. You lift your head, eyes searching from the direction it’s coming from. It sweeps through the rubble, beginning to fill the hole you’re in.

“Guys!” The panic in your voice alerts Rhodes, “Help!”

Rocket gets to his feet, coming in your direction. “Oh, no.”

“Mayday, Mayday! Does anybody copy? We’re on the lower level. It’s flooding!” Rhodes says into the earpiece. “We are drowning! Does anybody copy? Mayday!”

“I don’t think we can get you out of this one.” Rocket says once he sees you. “Bruce, any chance you can come over here?”

“Not really.” He grunts.

You take careful breaths, trying to relax. “If I don’t get out of here, I’m going to drown.”

Rocket shakes his head, hands up. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”

“You don’t have any tools?” You ask, “To cut the bar in half?” He doesn’t respond, you close your eyes. “Fuck.”

“It’s filling up fast!” Rhodes shouts.

“Move back.” You tell him, he listens.

You grip onto the steel bar, “Come to me.” You murmur, the ground begins to shake under you, causing the pain to heighten. You grit your teeth, wanting to stop. “Come here.” You order.

The ground splits somewhere, the cement you’re laying on dips to the side, making you move. You resist the urge to throw your head back, trying to avoid a concussion.

“Oh, what the—” Rocket lets out, “What is that?”

Through half-open lids, you watch as a few of the dead come to crawl out of the rubble. They get to their feet, and without any other word, come to rescue you from where you are. The issue is that they aren’t so gentle, when they grab you by your shoulders and hips, pulling you free.

The insides of your body burns, as you bite back a scream. They drop you on your feet, and with the weight all falling onto your wound, you stumble forward and onto your knees, hand wrapped around the area.

“If you could do that—have them take the rubble.” Rocket motions to Bruce. “So he can get us out of here.”

“They’ll crumble beneath the weight.” You tell him, the dead grab your elbows, forcing you to your feet. “They’re not good for much besides fighting.”

“You can’t tell them to find a way out and we follow them?” Rocket suggests.

“We can’t leave Bruce behind.” You shake your head. “And it’s not guaranteed that it’ll work. They can lead us to a dead-end. They aren’t all-knowing.”

The roof is beginning to fall, Bruce shuddering beneath it. The water is coming through faster, you shuffle to stand with Rhodes, Rocket climbs up as far as he can. You tilt your head back, water creeping up your chest. The dead that were with you are now floating on their backs, no longer alive.

“See you on the other side, man.” Rhodes says.

Rocket whimpers, not liking the idea of dying. You pant, tears in your eyes. You’re going to die before you’re able to see Stephen again. For the past five years, you’ve held onto the idea that it could be possible. And now he’s back, somewhere, but not here.

“(Y/n), stop.” Rhodes warns you.

You cry, the water reaching the back of your head. “Get me out of here!”

“You need to breathe, you can’t hyperventilate under the water.” He says, it’s flooding your ears.

“I know.” You gasp. “I know.”

You take a deep breath in right as the water covers your face. For the first few seconds, you think that it’s fine. And then you reach out, grabbing onto Rhodes’s arm, squeezing tightly. You feel his hand over yours, trying to provide comfort.

The burning in your lungs begins in the second minute, pressure tight in your skull, adding to the lightheadedness. You want to open your mouth and suck in, despite knowing that you’ll fill your lungs with water. It’ll be quicker than fighting this, right?

An object surrounds you, bumping you to the side. Your eyes open suddenly, struggling to see through the murky water on what’s moved you. For a second, you think that it’s Bruce, until you find him joining you. The water current from the other side brings the four of you closer together, as what you assume to be the roof closes in on you.

But then the ground comes up, uneven, and you’re lifted into the air, water running. You gasp, desperate for air, coughing out the water. You drop to your knees, pushing your hair out of your face.

“It’s Scott!” Rhodes shouts.

He must grow through the Facility, because all you can hear is the concrete breaking to pieces around you. He opens his hand when it’s safe, the others jumping off, while you carefully take your time, eyes adjusting to the situation in front of you.

Thanos is here. There’s a giant ship in the air off to the left, with the Chitauri and the Leviathan’s coming out of it. Just like they had eleven years ago when Loki came to New York.

On the right side, is where you find several armies coming together to help. The army from Wakanda, led by T’Challa, the Asgardians, following Valkyrie and sorcerers, preparing behind Wong. And more, ones you don’t recognize, coming through the portals.

With one hand over your side, you hobble out to solid ground, eyes on Thanos. Your upper lip begins to twitch into a snarl, but it’s more for the laughter that catches in your throat.

When you come to a stop, you level your breathing as much as possible. You’ve brought back large armies in the past, but those will compare nothing to what you’re able to do.

The dark energy comes through your feet, snaking its way up your legs. You roll your shoulders back, feeling it wrap around your chest, alleviating the pain in your abdomen enough for you to remove your hand.

“Let’s play.” You smile, swirling your hand in the air. At first slowly, but growing faster, rock trembling, Earth reacting to what you’re demanding.

A hole appears, ground caving in on itself, creating a pit with no visible bottom. You shuffle to stand over it, peering inside. A cold gust of air blows your wet hair out of your face, goosebumps covering your arms.

“Come to me.” You demand, “All of you.”

There’s whispering, and sounds of hissing overlapping each other from deep below. They grow louder as they rise to the top. At the sight of the first undead climbing the walls, you back up to give them room. This is a trick you’ve been practicing for years, hoping you’d get the chance to use it here.

“Got anything for us, (Y/n)?” You hear in your earpiece, it’s Tony.

“They’re coming.” You tell him. “And mine will make the others seem like a joke.”

They crawl out, coming to their feet, walking forward. At first, a few at a time, not wanting to overwhelm the area, or anything. Then they begin to come in crowds, eager to get out of where they’ve been hiding this entire time. You walk away, watching as they come out of every direction they can.

As the numbers multiply and grow, Steve steps forward. “Avengers!” He holds out his hand, Mjolnir flying to it. “Assemble.”

Thor shouts first, the armies following as they rush forward. Yours, not quite yet, waiting for a command. The fun thing about the dead is that there’s so many of them, people will never stop dying. Which means that when you send the ones standing off, more will continue. A never-ending supply.

“Kill them!” You shout, pointing at Thanos’s army.

This is when they move at a steady pace, not feeling the need to run. You stay where you stand, supervising the hole to ensure that a great amount comes from it, before you point straight down the middle.

“Come here, Arzorath.” The flow of dead stops to let this creature come out, five times the size of you, built like a monster. As soon as he’s out, the dead begin again. You grab his grey skin, looking up at him. “You stay here, and you make sure this doesn’t stop.”

He grunts, giving you a solid nod.

With that, you turn to walk into the fight, to the center, where Thanos is going to be. You should be afraid of walking through this crowd, but with the amount of undead that are spread throughout, they jump to protect you if any danger arises.

There’s explosions, the sounds of weapons clashing against one another. You see several laser beams shoot through the air to hit their target. There’s billows of black smoke, indicating several fires.

“Cap!” You hear Clint’s voice in your ear. “What do you want me to do with this damn thing?”

Steve grunts. “Get those stones as far away as possible!”

“No!” Bruce shouts. “We need to get ‘em back where they came from.”

“I made a promise to the Sorcerer Supreme that I’d get it back. I intend on keeping it.” You tell them.

“No way to get ‘em back. Thanos destroyed the quantum tunnel.” Tony says.

“Hold on!” You watch as Scott disappears, likely shrunken back to his regular size. “That wasn’t our only time machine.”

The sound of a horn playing Spanish music makes you turn your head.

“Anyone see an ugly brown van out there?” Steve asks.

“Yes! But you’re not gonna like where it’s parked!” Valkyrie shouts, she’s in the air, riding on a pegasus.

“Scott, how long you need to get that thing working?” Tony asks.

“Uh, maybe ten minutes.”

“Get it started. We’ll get the stones to you.” Steve says.

“We’re on it, Cap.” Hope says—Scott’s partner.

“Do you need me to clear a path for you?” You ask, “Because it won’t be that hard.”

“No, I can fly him there.” Hope tells you.

You continue through the battle, coming upon a patch where there is no one. You climb a pile of rocks, surveying the area to find Thanos, fighting Wanda. She’s got him stuck in the air, squeezing him with her magic.

That’s when the first blue light hits the ground, causing a blast, killing a dozen of your dead. It’s not only one, though, as more following, firing straight into the crowd without any prior aim. Thanos doesn’t care who he hits, as long as he doesn’t lose this fight.

You watch as the sorcerers cast shields, holding them above their heads, working together to cover a small part of the field. You don’t move for shelter, holding your stance. You glance over your shoulder to find Arzorath, still guarding the hole as you instructed him to.

“Help, somebody help!” Peter shouts.

“Hey, Queens, heads up!” Steve says back.

Mjolnir flies through the air, you can see it from where you are. You reach up, pressing the ear piece. “Anyone have eyes on Thanos?”

“He’s by the van!” Scott shouts back, “I need backup!”

You sigh out your nose, jumping down from the rocks, heading straight into the fight once again. “Arzorath!” You shout, looking over your shoulder. He raises his head. “More!”

He raises his arms, throwing them down as he grabs a chunk from the ground, ripping it out and throwing it into the crowd of Thanos’s troops. By widening the hole, it creates a bigger flow. In seconds, you see the difference, as they rush to follow you, and then past you to create a path.

The blasts from the sky become more frequent, like hail. At least half of the dead come to jump at you to protect you, bringing you to the ground. They hold you there, refusing to let you move, until it suddenly stops.

In the silence that comes after, you’re pulled to your feet. When you walk, they do too. The ship above suddenly changes its target, firing into the clouds in the distance.

“What the hell is this?” Sam asks.

It doesn’t matter, you’re able to make it halfway to the van by the time the object from the atmosphere finally makes an appearance, slamming directly through the spaceship, and coming out on the other side. It must destroy the inside, setting off explosions, as the blasters power down, and the ship begins to fall, heading for the lake.

The object in question is Carol, as she does a loop, and flies up through the bottom, coming out of the top. She lands somewhere in the field, presumably where the gauntlet must be, not too far away.

Your concern switches when Thanos’s army begins to run at you. For a moment, you think that it was a stupid choice to run out here this far. Then the sound of bones rattling, and the groaning begins behind you. You turn halfway, finding that your people have followed you all the way out here.

“Destroy them.” You say. With a layer of an undead shield in front of you, you continue forward, watching as Wanda flies past you, followed by some of the other girls. You throw your hand out, pointing their way. “They don’t get hurt!”

Valkyrie and Wanda work together to take down the two leviathans above, while you use Carol’s path of destruction as a way to get to the van faster. When the fire rises, smoke hovering like fog, you cover your mouth, refusing to slow down. But when you come out on the other side, you watch as Carol makes a dive for the van, only for Thanos’s weapon to hit the portal at the same time.

This causes a blast, throwing the weightless dead back. You fight to stay on your feet, leaning into the wind. The gauntlet glove goes flying, landing a few feet away. Thanos runs at it, causing you to jerk forward, too. Tony runs right into him, throwing him to the ground.

Thor lands, Stormbreaker glowing bright blue as he swings at Thanos. When he spins around, intending for a hard hit, Thanos grabs the handle, stopping him. He raises his free hand, and Mjolnir flies to it, acting as a block. Thor’s eyes are bright white, using the power of lightning. Steve runs up behind Thanos, jumping on his back.

Thanos headbutts Thor, reaching back to grab a hold of Steve, and somersaulting forward. When he lands on top, he punches Steve across the face, knocking him unconscious. He crawls the few feet to the glove, getting it in his hands, before Carol kicks the back of his knee, hitting his jaw,

When Thanos fights back, she dodges. She makes the mistake of trying to grab the glove, leaving an opening for Thanos to grab her. He twists, chucking her into the rock and rubble. Once again, reaching to put the gauntlet on his hand, this time succeeding.

Your stomach flies at the sight of the power coursing through his arm, as he raises his hand to snap his fingers. He almost does, until Carol gets her hand between, dragging him down to her height, trying to pull it off. He tries to punch her, but her power creates a shield that he can’t penetrate. When she flies above him, now pushing his hand toward his face, he reaches up, pulling the Power Stone free, and transferring it to his other hand.

She can’t catch herself in time, as he shouts, punching her away. She disappears, leaving a trail of kicked up dirt.

You find Tony, laying on his stomach, dirt and blood smeared across his skin. He’s not looking at you, but to a different part of the field. When you follow his gaze, you’re met with the sight of him.

It’s Stephen, in the same condition that all of you seem to be, too caught up in trying to hold the lake water at bay. Still, he manages to hold up his index finger, telling Tony one.

The confusion lasts less than a second, when you remember one of the last conversations you had together before Thanos showed up on Titan. Out of fourteen million timelines that he lived through, there was only one where you won.

You don’t want to take your eyes off of him, lips parted. The urge to call his name is on the tip of your tongue. He’s right there. He’s so close.

You’re forced to when Thanos puts the Power Stone back on the gauntlet.

You stomp your foot, hard, the dirt around you shakes. “Arzorath, come!” Pain slices through your wound at the sudden movement. “The rest of you, get him!”

They’re faster than you thought they’d be, adjusted to their worn down bodies. They begin to throw themselves at Thanos. In the beginning, he’s able to swing them off, but as the dead come out of the shadows, far through the field, the number is overwhelming. He’s just about to use the gauntlet to swing them away, when a black mist surrounds him. The screams of pain begin, as the poisonous cloud corrodes his skin.

Arzorath appears beside you, materializing out of the air. You cup your hands, watching as he dumps the stones into yours carelessly, since they have no real value to him.

The stones begin to slide over your palms without an order, adjusting to sit in their rightful places over your knuckles. You pull the Time Stone out, holding it in your free hand, not ready for the pain it’s about to inflict. You take a few deep breaths, releasing the power you hold over your army.

They fall into a useless heap of bones and rotten flesh. Thanos bursts out of it, raises his hand, still assuming the stones are on it. You look over, watching as Arzorath crumples to the ground, the life leaving him, too. You can’t afford to have any of them around. Not if you plan to do this.

“I am inevitable.” Thanos says, snapping his finger.

It doesn’t react, there is no flash of white light, the people don’t begin to fall, he fails.

You turn your head, meeting Tony’s eyes, which begin to widen when he realizes why Thanos’s snap didn’t work. “(Y/n), don’t!” He shouts. “You have Stephen! He’s here!”

“You have Morgan!” You tell him. “And I have something a lot nastier than just myself.”

Thanos’s head whips in your direction. You get down to your knees, to the ground, the same way you had to in the past. With the hand that isn’t holding the Time Stone, you press it into the dirt, leaning forward, pulling. You reach through, searching for that miserable monster that had come out four years ago when you’d done this.

This is your only chance—your only trick. It rests, slumbering, refusing to rise at your will. It isn’t until you give a little of yourself, what little dark energy you have left from conjuring so many of the dead, does it wake. And when you pull, it flies up at you, not slowing down.

You can hear Thanos running at you, shouting.

You open your eyes, slapping the Time Stone into its place on your knuckle. The energy that flows through you is different, brighter. This is not the same dark force that you’re used to. You’re able to feel the burning pain up your arm and stabbing into your neck, before it’s gone.

The beast travels through your feet and up your body, heading straight for your mouth. It sets you on fire inside, and you’re barely able to lift your hand in time to snap your fingers, when he takes over, doing it for you. You’re weightless, flying through the air, wind caressing your skin, cradling you like a newborn.

And then you hit the ground.

You roll several feet, arms blocking your face, until you stop on your back. You can see a leviathan coming right at you. And when you manage to finally get your eyes open after blinking, you find that it’s gone, nothing but dust in the wind. You let out a breath.

“(Y/n)!” Stephen’s voice is close, coming toward you.

The ground feels like it’s spinning under your body, creating a whirlpool, sucking you down with it. That would be nice, to join the ones that have kept you safe throughout this fight. Maybe you could give them a proper thank you.

There’s mechanical footsteps coming your way, when you look over, it’s Tony. His mouth is open, hands reaching for you. He’s cut off by someone else, dropping to their knees beside you.

It’s Stephen, your Stephen, as he pulls you into an upright position by your shoulders. You let out a cry, abdomen screaming in reaction. He’s got your face pulled against his chest, one arm across the back of your shoulders to keep you from moving.

“(Y/n), stay with me.” He tells you. “Stark—!”

You can’t see much through the haze, like a film over your eyes. But with Stephen’s face so close to yours, it doesn’t even matter. You throw your head back to get a proper look at him, something you’ve been waiting to do for five years. Of course, there’s a mess across his skin, a few strands of hair out of place.

You reach up with the hand that doesn’t have the stones, wiping a patch of blood away. “I’m fine.” You murmur, eyelids drooping. You begin to fall back, but Stephen catches you, pulling you back against his chest.

When you shakily breathe in, you’re hit with his cologne, a smell you’d thought you’d lost forever. You wrap your fingers around his blue robes, staring at the side of his face.

“What can we do?” He demands.

Stephen’s so beautiful, even in a state like this, especially when he’s angry. You remember that being the first thing you thought about him when he stepped out of his car, the second time he almost hit you. He’s handsome, and he’s yours, in front of you. He hasn’t aged a day. Still as perfect as he was the day he was taken from you.

“I’m okay.” You whisper, but your voice is drowned out by Friday, listing your vitals out loud.

You’re so, so tired.

Stephen jerks you, your eyes fly open. “Don’t close your eyes, (Y/n). You have to stay with me.”

You hum, trying to listen. The worried look on his face has only deepened since learning about your heart rate and blood pressure. You think you can hear Tony making suggestions, all of which Stephen shuts down.

“I just…” You close your eyes, wanting to rest. As you settle, ignoring Stephen’s demands for you to stay awake, a voice from below calls.

Brace yourself.

All you can do is twitch your eyebrows, before a sharp gasp comes through your mouth, eyes opening. Your hand grips at his robes, knuckles turning pale to keep him from going anywhere. The energy resurfaces, bouncing to your temples, a headache slams in after.

You grit your teeth, toes curled as the needles press into every inch of your skin, reminding you that you’re alive. Telling you that you’re not allowed to die. Stephen’s hand is cupping your face, leaning over you.

“I told you;” You breathe carefully, feeling it begin to subside, “I’m fine.”

Stephen smashes his lips into yours, rough and demanding. He holds you there for a long minute, feeling you on him, until he decides when to pull away. You touch the side of his face, a light laugh escaping you.

“I missed you.” You tell him, tears in your eyes. “I can’t live without you.”

“So this is what you do?” He asks, bewildered. “You sacrifice yourself?”

“It’s been a rough five years.” You sniff, reaching over to pluck the stones from your suit. “But this is what had to be done, right?”

“Right.” He says, voice sad, getting to his feet. He helps you up, and catches you when you stumble a step. When you take one toward Tony, he shakes his head. “Are you sure…?”

“Yeah.” You mumble, pulling his hand up to give him the stones. “Here.”

Tony’s standing a foot or two away, staring at you. When you stop, slightly hunched over, he closes his eyes. “You’ve got to be the dumbest person on our team. I could’ve done that.”

“And survived?” You ask.

He doesn’t say anything at first, “Probably not, but it would’ve been more thought out than that.”

“You’re telling me that wasn’t thought out?” You ask, looking back at Stephen. A smile appears on your face first, and when you begin to laugh, you have to force yourself to stop. “I think that went pretty fuckin’ well, don’t you?”

“I would’ve changed a few things.” Stephen comes over to you, “But you’re right.”

“You shouldn’t have…” Tony’s shaking his head, eyes drifting away.

“You saved my life, remember?” You ask him, voice wavering, “That day I told you I was working on a different way to bring them back? I owe you for that.”

“You didn’t.”

“I never—not even in my nightmares—would have let you take the Infinity Stones. Even if it meant that it killed me.” You press your finger to his chest. “We’re even.”

“We always have been.” He tells you.

Stephen reaches to grab you when you sway, not being able to stabilize yourself. “Let’s sit down, (Y/n).”

“Sure.” You don’t resist, letting him lead you to a slab of concrete that’s flat enough to sit down. When you do, the aches in your body leave, you take in a deep breath. “Stephen?”

“Yes, my love?” His eyes are already on you.

You take his hand, lacing his fingers with yours. “I love you.”

He smiles, tilting his head slightly. “I love you too, (Y/n).”

#ilguna #stephen strange imagine #stephen strange oneshot #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange fanfic #stephen strange x you #strephen strange x yn #stephen strange x y/n #doctor strange imagine #doctor strange oneshot #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange fanfic #doctor strange x you #doctor strange x yn #doctor strange x y/n #marvel #angst #fluff

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wint3r-h3art · 1 year

Text

More Than You Bargain For | Sinfully Yours Au

Summary: Sugar Daddy! Strange is back. It's been five months since the events of The Beginning. Nothing was more blissful than spending your first summer at Lake Como by your doctor's side, but of course, there was always something or someone that may have ruined just that.

W/C: over 2K

Warnings: smut: cunnilingus & angst. Plot heavy that lead to the next part. Mentioned of Odin, as well as an appearance of Loki & Thor 😈 18+ ONLY. Minors DNI.

A/N: My writing for Strange is a little rusty, but this idea has been floating for some time. I just think that their arrangement is a bit messy, especially when feelings do evolve. 🥲 As usual, no beta. If I missed anything, I do apologize. If you enjoyed this, please comment & reblog for support. I love hearing about your thought on this little Drabble.

*** Do not copy, repost, or translate my works anywhere else!!

Sweat trickled down your neck as you felt his lips skim along your collarbones. Your back ached as his body pinned you against the wall of the villa. Rough fingertips dug into the soft skin of your hips, imprinting his touches straight to your bones.

The cool breeze from the lake did nothing to cool down the fire he set upon your senses as he slid his tongue along the slippery seam. Every part of you buzzed and hummed with anticipation of being discovered. What would they say about the well-respected Doctor Strange, down on his knees with his face buried between some woman’s legs?

The age gap between the two of you has never been an issue–or at least that’s what you assume. The arrangement that you came to be was purely out of desperation between needing financial support from him, and him needing companionship from you. You made a deal with him some five months ago, and looked how far you have come now with your sundress hiked up to your waist, and the good doctor’s face buried right between the legs.

The sex had always been easy because you had always had a crush on him since your day as the barista from a small coffee shop he frequented. He was also quite understanding about this whole arrangement as well, which begged the question as to why he was single in the first place. But you kept that to yourself because your job was to be his sugar baby–to be his arm candy, and to make him look good. It wasn’t your job to ask him questions that he doesn’t want to answer.

And quite frankly, you were too attached to him to want to know why he wanted to stay single.

A muffled, tortuous moan slipped past your lips when you felt him parting your folds with his tongue as he settled into a feast. Your legs trembled. Your hand in his hair, bunching and pulling at the soft strands until he let out a low, rumbling groan that reverberated straight into your pussy, pulling you closer to the edge.

He was spreading you open with his hands as if he was trying to plunge his tongue deeper inside you, and you couldn’t help but ground your hips to meet your mouth.

“Stephen…” you sobbed softly, trying to not make any loud noises because there were people up front.

Thor Odinson had invited Doctor Strange to his summer home here at Lake Como since the doctor was a good friend of his father, Odin Borson.

With the state that the two of you were in though, you weren't quite sure if Thor would ever invite you to his home ever again if he walked in on the two of you fucking like a bunch of horny teenagers behind his villa.

Stephen Strange didn’t reply to you as he thrust his tongue into your drenching pussy. Your hips churned as your pulse pounded to your clit. Each shallow penetration continued to push you further and closer to your release.

He was your heaven and hell wrapped into a six-foot-something, forty-year-old man. And when he started to suck on your clit, your brain turned into a puddle.

You came with a strangled moan as your body clenched and trembled. Your thighs clenched tightly around his head, but that didn’t seem to bother him much as he continued to drink all of your releases.

It felt like an eternity though as you stood there waiting on Strange to finish what he was doing. Your body felt warm from the Italian summer air and well from what your doctor was doing to you. Your legs felt almost boneless and you had to brace yourself against the wall of the villa.

You looked up, and Strange wasn’t in a better state than you as his hair was messy, standing up in various directions. His face was flushed. Lips gleam from the remnant of your little act. You helped straighten his clothes of course, because everyone would be suspicious if he returned looking so disheveled and so…relax now.

He smiled and looked at you as you helped him fold the sleeves of his linen shirt, revealing the many tattoos he adorned.

“They're gonna know,” you mumbled.

“Nobody’s going to know. They probably think we’re exploring the house or something.”

He failed at trying to reassure you, especially when he looked so…smugged.

“Besides, Thor is a friend–everyone here are friends. Nobody cares.”

Yes. Your friends. Not mine.

“Even his brother?”

Loki Odinson. Thor’s younger brother had never gotten along with the doctor. Even when you and Strange first showed up here, you didn’t feel the welcoming air around him like the rest of the family. The two men could not stand each other. Something about Strange humiliated the younger Odinson during his Ph.D. days.

Again, their history had always been vague, and you weren’t close enough to ask questions.

“Loki is…Loki. Acknowledging him will not do you good. It is best if you’re not acquainted with him.”

“That bad?”

Strange chuckled. “Depends on your definition of ‘bad’. I think of it as a friendly banter between old acquaintances”

You stared at him with the expression of ‘Are you kidding me?’. Strange just chuckled again.

“Don’t worry, ok?” His large hands clasped over your shoulders.

You chewed on your lips briefly before you nodded. Stephen placed a kiss on your forehead before heading back to the party first, leaving you here to your worried thoughts.

As Stephen Strange disappeared out of your line of sight, you heard another footstep approaching, and of course, who else would that be beside the one person you dreaded to be alone with the most?

Loki noticed your expression and he stopped and leaned against the stone railing that overlooked the lake. A mischievous smirk quirked at the corner of his lips as he observed you for a long moment.

“The doctor is a bit too old for you, don’t you think?”

“I’m a full-grown adult…my decision is my own.”

Loki chuckled as he raked his long slender fingers through his hair. Oh, you definitely exceeded his expectation alright. Perhaps this was why Strange picked you. He was never the type to go for someone with no backbone.

“Of course. I just thought it’s funny that you would be with someone twice your age…especially when you can do so much better.”

You could feel the heat flooding your face. You couldn’t tell what his intention was.

“I did a little research–,” he continued. “Y’know as one would when an outsider suddenly got invited to a private gathering. I’m not here to judge, but I do applaud you for the sort of scheme you’re playing. Never thought that Strange would be into the whole sugar daddy thing, but hey, when your ex of over five years dumped you and married some guys she met just a little under a year, I would do something out of the ordinary too.”

His words sting you deeply, and you were trying very hard to now show him any sort of emotion to satisfy his little jab.

“What is your point then, Mr. Odinson?”

Loki chuckled as if he found this whole situation funny.

“Nothing at all. Just curious about what the two of you are going to be…Strange is not the type to settle that easily, and I don’t think he would settle for someone…well…”

“Someone like me?”

Loki smirked. “Oh darling, I think you can do so much better than the doctor. I would hate to see your heart get broken. That’s all.”

“What makes you think that I’m going to get my heart broken when you already know that this is just an arrangement.”

“Sweetheart, I can see the way you were looking at him…It is more than what you bargained for, and to be quite frank with you, I don’t think he’s worth it.”

Loki took a few steps toward you until he was in front of you. His designer cologne permeated the air around you, filling you with nothing but his scent.

“There’s plenty of fish in the sea. Why settle for one rich guy, when you’re surrounded by plenty here?”

You couldn’t miss the gleam in his eyes as he stared at you with a newfound interest.

“If money is what you want, it shouldn’t be a problem, and of course, it doesn’t hurt that I am much closer to your age than he ever is.”

Anger that was simmered beneath your skin was finally boiling over. It was never about his interest in you. It had always been about looking at you like you were some sort of a whore, wanting nothing more than money. What you had with Strange was more than an exchange of money and sex–it was about seeking solace in each other–About filling the void of the loneliness that only the two of you understand. He warned you of the way others would perceive this sort of arrangement, but you just didn’t imagine it was going to be this way. Perhaps you were naive after all.

You were about to open your mouth to say something, but a voice interrupted.

“Is this how you are trying to flirt, Loki?” came Strange’s voice, making the other man’s head whip back. You could see Loki’s expression change as he straightened up to his full height. Anger? Annoyance? You couldn’t distinguish between the two, but you could see the way his thin lips pulled into a straight line. His deep green eyes darkened with stormy clouds.

“Couldn’t keep your clammy little hands to yourself, huh?” Strange was now standing right beside you, with his arm around your waist as he offered the other man a friendly, yet cold smile.

“Oh, you know. Couldn’t help but entertain your little friend here…”

“Girlfriend,” Strange corrected, and you could feel heat spread out onto your face and straight to the tip of your ears.

Being called his girlfriend was definitely, and definitely welcoming. The thought just never occurred to you that he was going to say it out loud so casually.

Unless he really didn’t mean it like that.

Loki noticed the unhinged expression on Strange's face, and he knew when the battle was lost. As much as he hated it, Loki conceded with a smirk.

“Of course. How could I ever be mistaken? Perhaps another time, Ms. Y/L/N.”

You watched as the dark-haired man walked back into the house without so much as turning back. His slender form disappeared behind the white door, and for the first time, you found yourself breathing again.

Strange now rubbed your back in a slow, soothing motion.

“Well having him hitting on you was definitely not on my bingo card, but I supposed, it means that I am lucky enough to find someone as enticing enough to pique his interest.”

“I think he just wants to hurt you by trying to get on with me,” you said as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“I can’t blame him for trying…”

You turned and looked up at him, clearly confused by his words. Strange didn’t say anything more, other than pulling you back to join him with the rest of the party.

More questions have arisen. Were you two officially dating now, or was the doctor simply trying to get Loki off of both of your asses. You would never know because, by the time you could even form a coherent thought, you were greeted by the people at the party again.

If only you knew the truth…

“Am I really your girlfriend?” You asked after sometimes later, when the people started to settle down and mingle in smaller groups. You could still sense Loki’s gaze across the garden as he eyed the two of you.

The question somewhat surprised him. He thought he was being more than obvious and clear when he declared you just as that. Strange was oblivious to the conflict you were battling inside your head.

“I thought that I was being clear earlier.”

His tone was neutral, which made you perceived it as if he was being nonchalant about the whole ordeal. Perhaps it was the wine or perhaps it was Loki who made you question everything that has to do with Strange. Whatever it was, slowly consumed your thought, and you found yourself not wanting to be here anymore.

“Well, under the circumstances that those words were said out loud, I cannot be sure.”

Strange turned and looked at you. Clearly confused.

“If I said yes, does that make you feel better?”

Something about his tone that ticked you off. It was like something in your head snapped.

“It’s not about how I feel, Stephen…I just want to know what’s going on. For all I know, you only said that I’m your girlfriend just to get Loki off our asses…”

“Is that how you think of me?”

He was offended at the fact that you would think of him like this—like some sort of an asshole. I mean, he was like that once upon a time, but he was different now.

“I—I don’t know. It just sounded like that when you came out of nowhere and declare me as your girlfriend. We have never discussed it before. I just—“

“What? Repulse by that idea?”

You opened your mouth then close. Every words that you try to say suddenly get twisted. You weren’t a fan of that at all.

“Do not put words into my mouth,” hurt laced every words of that statement. Even Strange could see the way your eyes were suddenly watered, and the way your jaws were clenched tightly as you stared ahead. “I am trying to understand you, but all you do is avoid answering my questions.”

“Y/N…please just don’t…” he raked his fingers through his hair in a frustration matter.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to humiliate you in front of your friends today…I’ll be here and be pretty like what you paid me to do.”

Strange now really turned and looked at you with exasperated look, yet his mouth wouldn’t open to say anything more. Had he screwed up for not admitting the truth? Was he even good enough to even call you his girlfriend? That, he was really unsure about.

As much as he wanted to blame Loki for this, he knew better that it was him who was the coward in admitting his own feelings.

This was definitely more than he bargained for, alright.

"Brother...You're awfully quiet this evening. Would you mind indulging me in what you are scheming at the moment?"

Loki turned to Thor, who was quite perceptive today. He was more observant than usual, which made him a bit more annoying than anything.

"Something is off between those two, and I am trying to figure it out..."

Thor followed the path of his brother's stare and found that you and Strange barely looked or talk at each other. You had your arms crossed over your chest, barely acknowledging the doctor beside you.

"Careful now. It's not your business," Thro said softly. His voice had always been so deep and rumbly, even if he wasn't trying to sound serious.

"Did he say that she's his girlfriend?"

"Why do you want to know?"

Loki didn't answer.

"Loki...Do not--and I repeat, do not insert yourself in their affair."

The dark hair man smirked in triumph. "I don't know, brother. I just got the best idea around."

Thor raised an eyebrow and waited for Loki to continue.

"How do you feel about roping Doctor Strange to become your CMO for your company?"

Thor had considered the possibility many times before, but Strange had always wanted to work in New York. Moving him all the way to Norway to become the CMO of Odis Therapeutic not only cost them a lot of money but also required a lot of convincing as well. the man just wanted to teach more than anything. Putting him in the C-suite could be the best decision he ever made or the stupidest one..Mainly the man demanded a lot, and he just didn't know if that was worth it or not.

"Why the sudden recommendation?" Thor asked

"I just think we need a brain like him in our company. That's all." He smirked even though he had another plan in mind that involve you in it. "So...What say you?"

Thor chewed on his lips momentarily before chugging the last remnant of his drink.

"It wouldn't hurt to ask him again..."

"Excellent."

A/N: CMO: chief medical officer.

I just thought it would be neat to have Thor as the CEO of a biotech company. Anyway, what do you guys think Loki is scheming? Is he not ready to give up on our reader just yet? Let me know.

#stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x you #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange x you #doctor strange x female reader #doctor strange imagine #stephen strange imagine #doctor strange fanfiction #stephen strange fanfiction #doctor strange smut

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ultralightpoe · 11 months

Text

Haunted House - Stephen Strange

Authors Note: HAPPY HALLOWEEN

Word Count: 1,286

Warnings: illusions to smut

Description: Small halloween blurb.

This is apart of my Halloween event, stay tuned for a new story every hour!

Happy Halloween!

It starts as a small whisper from a mother to her neighbor. “Did you hear about the witch and warlock?” The neighbor talked to her sister, this time whispering “The witches are running a haunted house.” Her sister tells her coworker about it, and on and on and on.

Within days the news of ‘The Haunted House’ travels and everyone is preparing for it. Making plans to stop by on Halloween because who in their right mind would miss this?

But no one, NO ONE, was as excited as Stephen Strange.

The sanctum was normally to remain hidden unless the person called to it, but on Halloween (and with proper protection spells of all the artifacts) he began a tradition of opening the sanctum to the world and unleashed his powers upon them…… but that wasn’t his favorite part of it all.

No.

His favorite part was you, his wife, and your natural power.

You came from a coven when he met you, cocky and beautiful, everything about you powerful and smooth. You ended up saving him from a demon, showing him up in all but two moves before you vanished.

It took months of this, you popping up and saving him, before he finally got your name. Wong had warned him about you, warned him about your coven as well.

“They are purists, the witches are not to interact with warlocks or humans. If they find that she does, she could be stranded or worse killed.”

But Stephen couldn’t stay away, he was drawn to you.

Months and months, seeing you became a natural thing and soon enough he was completely in love. Your coven expelled you, and though you had been upset about losing your mother and sisters you had agreed to marry him and you had formed a happy family with him.

And there was one night a year that you allowed yourself to actually unleash the depth of your power.

“America!” You call up the stairs, fixing your cliche witch hat once more before moving to fuss over the streamers on the railing. “Baby wizard come on, it’s nearly time!”

“Coming!” She calls, and Stephen comes around the corner, leaning on the wall as he watches you fuss over the decorations before your adopted daughter rushes down the steps in her own wizard costume.

“YOU LOOK GREAT!” You squeal, pulling her in and fixing the shoulders.

“You’re not mad I chose wizard over witch?” America asks, allowing you to fuss over her.

“Absolutely not, I think you look great. Now where is-”

“Right here.” Stepen smiles before you even have to finish asking, turning slowly to show you his outfit.

“Those are your normal robes, Strange. This is supposed to be-” He smiles and holds out his hand, allowing a fully decorated cloak to fly to him. Cobwebs and black paint over him, and the second he latches on the outfit Stephen had been wearing transforms into the sinister version of it.

“Better? Mrs. Strange?”

“Perfect.” You smile, stepping closer to kiss him deeply before pulling back and clapping your hands.

Stephen takes a moment to admire you, trying not to grow a hard on at your costume before you are finally ready to begin.

“Alright, when the clock strikes 6 we will begin. A new round every hour. Understood?”

“Ready.” America smiles.

“I guess.” Wong sighs from his spot by the door, pretending not to be excited even though he was.

“Extremely ready!” Peter calls, swinging from the ceiling and landing next to America. Another one you had managed to adopt, you had ripped the memory curse and managed to allow everyone in the sanctum to remember him. “Remind me of my role one more time.”

“You’re the dead man hanging, darling.”

“Right. Got it.”

“Let’s begin then.” It takes everything in Stephen not to kiss you when you smile, your eyes shining that magnificent purple. He loved this holiday.

The clock chimes 6 times, echoing out to the first crowd that had formed outside, bouncing on their feet excitedly as they wait for the Sanctum to appear, and once the 6th chime hits a heavy cloud of purple smoke appears and then the building is revealed. Gasps travel through the crowd as everyone pushes forward, stepping up the concrete steps happily.

The doors open slowly, the purple smoke working as a fog as a serene voice rings out to the crowd, lulling them all in. “Come little children, I’ll take thee away-”

Janey, who had just turned 17 three days ago, takes a couple steps in and once 30 people had made it in the doors slam shut and the lighting goes down easily, everyone nearly surrounded in darkness as a purple cloud forms above them. “Follow me, if you dare….”

And there you were, Janey could do nothing but blink up at you as you emerged from the cloud, floating. You were everything.

“It’s the witch of the sanctum!” Someone yells, pointing as if you weren’t the easiest thing to see in the room. You smile, a cheshire cat smile as you gesture for everyone to follow, leading them into your house of horrors.

The last batch of people come in at 4 am, most of them college students not ready to end the night. You had to pull back the scares a bit so there were no incidents. But by the end of the night you are left on the stairs, laying down with a small smile as Stephen comes to find you.

His touches are gentle as he lifts your head to sit on the stairs with you, laying your head on his lap and brushing your hair.

“Have a fun night?”

“The best night ever.” You yawn. “Reminds me of my old home. Especially when the hellhound ended up chasing after that biker guy. If only he knew she was just a puppy who smelled bacon.”

“Why would he have a burger in his pocket, I still don’t understand that.” Stephen jokes, trying to ease the tension in his chest as he gazes at you. He knew you missed it, your family. “I’m sorry baby.”

“Don’t be sorry, Warlock.” You whisper, sitting up and pulling him in for a soft kiss. “Thank you for letting me have fun tonight.”

“I enjoy it, you are msot gorgeous when you’re not taming your powers….. But the medusa trick was a bit much this year.”

“I TURNED HIM BACK.” You defend, smiling from ear to ear. “But we might have to tone down a bit next year.”

“We?” He laughs and you shrug. “Fine. I might have to tone it down next year.”

He grabs your chin softly, pulling you close until his lips are grazing your own. “Don’t ever tone it down, Witch.”

“No problem, Warlock.” He lets himself kiss you then, opening a portal to your room and allowing himself to destroy you.

Janey goes to school, whispering about the house. She tells her friends of the smoke and how the witch had turned a man into solid stone and the hellhound. She tells them about the epic maze of blue star shaped portals that lead them from room to room, each one containing another world.

The news travels about the hellhounds and the flying demons. The skeletons that walked amok and the young man that hung himself in the foyer at the end. (They didn’t know that Peter was using his webs as a harness and the spell you put on him made him unrecognizable)

By the time the police went to the address they found nothing but an empty warehouse, Stephens protection spells back in place keeping his witch and his family safely tucked inside.

{Would love to write more about reader witchling and warlock Stephen}

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ironstrange1991 · 3 months

Text

The Goatee Problem

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 0,600k

Warnings: None, just fluff.

A/N: This is just a small blurb I came up with instead of finishing my Defender smut. Didn't want to end the month with nothing so I am posting this. Hope you guys like it and have a short but very nice reading.

"Believe me, you don't want to see this"

Stephen's voice sounded a bit shaky and nervous and his insistence that you do not go into the bathroom had you worried.

"Stephen, just tell me what happened. Are you hurt?"

You tried again to open the door and this time he didn't try to stop you from entering.

He was standing by the sink, but he turned his face so you couldn't see him in the mirror's reflection. You walked over hugging him from behind and he sighed "My hands... are shaking more than usual today... I shouldn't have tried..."

He turned to you, his face still smeared with shaving foam, but the goatee you were so used to was gone. "I had no alternative but..."

"Oh..." Was all you managed to say before bursting out laughing. Stephen frowned slightly offended.

"That's why I didn't want you to see me like this" He said pulling the towel from his shoulder and wiping his face.

He was gorgeous. Of course it was weird to see him without the goatee, but he was still handsome without it.

"I am not laughing at how you look, but at all the drama you are making."

You caressed his strangely smooth face, your index finger tracing around his lips and down to his chin. Stephen's skin was extremely soft.

"I've had my goatee for years, I don't even recognize myself without it."

You nodded, still distracted by how much the sight of Stephen in that different way was messing with you. "Well, I can't complain, you're still as hot as ever"

His face flushed with your compliment which made the whole situation even cuter. You pulled him to your lips and the feel of his smooth skin was different and interesting at the same time. He seemed taken aback by the intensity of your kiss and he was the one who broke the kiss to breathe.

"Don't get me wrong, Steph. I want the goatee back and you're going to have to put up with Wong and America's jokes for a month, but it's not all bad"

He didn't seem to understand where there could be a bright side to that tragedy and you made sure to make that clear when you kissed him again and continued to kiss the corner of his lips, running your lips up his cheeks until you reached his ear and licked his earlobe with the tip of your tongue before whispering "I'm sure it will feel very interesting between my legs"

He glanced at you completely intrigued as you pulled away and walked towards the bedroom.

"Did you like it then?" He asked still unsure.

You chuckled "Yes I did. Besides I'm sure in another universe there must be a version of you without the goatee."

He took a good look in the mirror and shook his head as if trying to encourage himself. "You're right, it isn't so bad."

"Don't get too excited tiger, I want my goatee back as soon as possible or you'll be sleeping on the couch." You warned.

“How do I face Wong and America now?” He asked, his voice sounding completely mortified “Shit, can’t let Stark see me like this.”

“Good lucky with that.” You said laughing while leaving the room.

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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brunchable · 2 months

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We Can’t Be Friends || Doctor Strange x F!Reader.

Genre: Angst(?) || Song MV inspired

Pairings: Stephen Strange x F!Reader

Word Count: 5.2K

Quick Summary: Your relationship with Stephen Strange has been strained to the breaking point by his constant absences and mystical duties. Despite Stephen's attempts to mend your fractured bond, you decide to seek a more permanent solution.

A/N: Lisssteeen, this is not proof read lol. I haven't written in a while, I am feeling rusty so please be forgiving hehe. Every nice interactions are most valued <3

Stephen had been gone for a month for the third time, with no word, no warnings. You had spent countless nights worrying, wondering if he was safe, if he would ever return. And now, as the sparkle of the portal opened and caught your attention, Stephen stepped out, looking weary and worn from his latest mission.

You were waiting for him in the living room, feeling a mixture of anger and frustration, yet your expressions show otherwise. You had been rehearsing what you would say, but now that he was here, the words felt heavy on your tongue.

“You're back. Where in the seven hells have you been this time?” You began, your voice firm but calm, you had that motherly tone when a teen returns home from sneaking out.

“Seven hells pretty much sums it up… can we do this later? I just got back,” Stephen chuckled, rubbing his temples, the tone of your voice grating and adding up to his headache, “I’m exhausted.”

“No, I think we should address this, now,” You insisted, pointing to the ground for emphasis.

Stephen sighed, sensing the confrontation he so wanted to avoid. “Alright, I’m listening.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Stephen, you’ve been gone for a month. No warnings, no pass the message from Wong. . . What is going on?”

“Y/N, you know what my responsibilities are. The world needs me. I can’t just ignore that,” Stephen said defensively.

“A heads up would be nice. Like how you were before. It feels like I’m nothing more than a distraction to you,” You shot back, your eyes narrowing.

Stephen’s expression hardened with irritation. “You knew what you were getting into from the start. My work–my duty is important. Do I need to explain myself every single time?”

“Why are you so defensive? Is it wrong of me to at least know where you are? So I don't worry all the time? At least still show me that I matter to you. Right now, it feels like you and your missions are all that matter,” you replied, rolling your eyes.

“This is ridiculous, Y/N. Clea and I are working to protect this world. It’s not like I’m off on a vacation. I’m trying to keep everyone safe, including you.”

It was impossible to overlook the single name that slipped from Stephen's lips. The air seemed to thicken even more with tension. Your face transformed dramatically; what had been a mask of frustration quickly crumbled, replaced by a deep, probing suspicion. Your eyes narrowed, searching Stephen's face for any hint of deceit, and your heart pounded in your chest, echoing the name that now hung heavily between you.

“Who’s Clea?” you asked, making sure to stress the name you didn't want to say, your voice tinged of disdain.

“Fuck,” Stephen muttered under his breath. A wave of regret washed over him as he realized he should have told you who he was teaming up with sooner. He wondered why he had left out such an important detail, knowing it would have made a difference in your reaction. . . or make it worse?

“Clea is from the dark dimension, I have caused an incursion in reality and I had to go with her and fix it, okay?” Stephen explained it for what it is. . . to him at least.

“So, you were with her every time you vanished without a trace?” you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm and a barely concealed resentment that felt like a knife twist in your chest.

“Like I said, I had to fix the incursion I caused,” he responded, his tone distant, as if the gravity of his words could shield him from the emotional storm brewing between you.

You stared at him, not caring what he even meant by 'incursion'. Your mind was a whirlwind, fixated on the crushing weight of this new revelation, which felt like an earthquake shattering the foundation of everything you thought you knew.

The man who once made you feel safe and cherished now stood before you, a stranger entwined in secrets and sacrifices you couldn't begin to fathom.

Stephen ran a hand through his hair, clearly exasperated. “I don’t have time for this. If you can’t understand that my work is important, then maybe we do need to rethink this relationship.”

You were stunned into silence for a moment, the weight of his words hitting you like a physical blow. Your throat stings badly as you fight to prevent any tears from falling. “So, that’s it? You’re willing to throw everything away because I worry about you?”

“I’m not throwing anything away, Y/N. All I do is try to save the world. If you can’t see that, then maybe we need to reconsider,” Stephen replied coldly.

“Okay. . .so you find a new partner in crime and the first thing you could think of is to ‘reconsider’,” You nodded, a little laugh might've escaped from you and it triggered something in Stephen.

“Do you hear yourself? You’re acting like I’m choosing Clea over you. This isn’t some petty love triangle, Y/N. This is about life and death, about the safety of the entire world!” Stephen’s voice was now raised.

“Oh my god! Enough about saving the world already! You belong to the world! Alright, I get it! But don't expect me to be nonchalant when you've spent your time ‘saving the world’ with her. Meanwhile I rot in my apartment worried sick if you're even still alive because I only want to belong to you.” Your voice was sharp, cutting through the air, firmly jabbing his chest with your finger

Stephen clenched his fist tightly, the knuckles turning white, as he took a deliberate step closer. His presence loomed over you, casting a shadow that seemed to amplify the tension in the air, “You think it’s easy for me? You think I don’t miss you? I have responsibilities that go beyond us—"

“If you're thinking I am asking you to abandon your responsibilities, I am not. I didn’t think you’d understand me.” You replied, striving to maintain your composure under his unwavering presence and the intense gaze fixated on your face.

Stephen shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “I never hid what my life was about, but you knew what signed up for when you said yes to me.”

“I did but I didn't sign up to be treated like an afterthought,” Y/N said, your voice softening slightly but still firm.

Stephen sighed and was silent for a moment, “So, what then? What do you want me to do? It is so hard to find balance with all this shit happening around us.”

“I don't know. . . whatever I may want, it'll be impossible for you to do,” You said, your voice resigned as you crossed your arms, a gesture of both self-protection and defiance.

Stephen’s eyes narrowed. “And what’s your solution? To just walk away?”

“That was your suggestion first, wasn't it?” You responded, a low, mirthless chuckle escaping your lips.

Stephen looked down, his silence speaking volumes. The decision crystallized in your mind. You turned away, grabbed your keys from the table, and headed toward the door, needing to cool off and get your head straight. The sound of the door closing behind you echoed through the Sanctum, a final punctuation to your heated exchange.

× × × × ×

You gripped the steering wheel tightly as you drove through the darkened streets of New York City. The familiar hum of the engine and the blur of passing lights did little to calm your racing heart. Your eyes were red from preventing a single tear to shed, but the tears came after being alone, blurring your vision and forcing you to blink them away repeatedly.

Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions—anger, sadness, confusion, and a deep, aching sense of betrayal. The argument with Stephen played on a relentless loop in your head, each word echoing with painful clarity.

"Maybe we do need to rethink this relationship."

"Maybe we shouldn’t be together."

You shook your head, trying to dispel the hurtful words, but they clung to you like a stubborn shadow. How did it come to this? How did your love, once so vibrant and full of promise, deteriorated into something so cold and distant?

Your thoughts drifted to the early days of your relationship. The way Stephen's eyes would light up when he saw you, the warmth of his touch, the way both of you would laugh and talk for hours about everything and nothing. You remembered the adventures you shared, the quiet moments of intimacy, and the feeling of safety and love that enveloped you whenever you were with him.

But those memories felt like they belonged to another life, another couple. Now, Stephen was always preoccupied, always focused on his missions with Clea. You couldn’t shake the feeling of being an afterthought, a secondary priority in his life. The loneliness you felt was suffocating, and tonight’s argument had only confirmed your deepest fears.

You pulled over to a quiet spot by the Hudson River, the soft glow of the city lights reflecting off the water. You turned off the engine and sat there in silence, the sound of your own breathing loud in the stillness of the night.

You leaned your head back against the seat and closed your eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath. You felt a crushing weight on your chest, the sense of impending loss almost too much to bear. You loved Stephen with all your heart, but you couldn’t keep living like this—constantly feeling like you were competing for his attention, always coming second to his duties as a sorcerer.

A part of you understood the importance of Stephen's work. You admired his dedication, his unwavering commitment to protecting the world from mystical threats. But at the same time, you couldn’t ignore your own needs, your own desire for a partner who was present, who made you feel valued and loved.

The idea asking Wong to use the Runes of Kof-Kol had come to you in a moment of clarity during your drive. It was a drastic measure, but it felt like the only way to save yourself from the inevitable heartbreak of this deteriorating relationship. If you both forgot each other, if you became strangers once more, maybe then you could find peace.

You opened your eyes and gazed out at the river, the dark waters flowing steadily under the moonlit sky. You felt a strange sense of calm wash over you as you made your decision. It wouldn’t be easy, and it would hurt like hell, but it was the only way you could move forward without the constant pain of their fractured love.

As you started the car and drove back towards the Sanctum, you knew what you had to do, and you hoped that in forgetting, you could both find a way to heal. The city lights blurred once more as fresh tears welled up in your eyes, but this time, they were tears of acceptance. You were ready to let go, ready to find yourself again, even if it meant losing the man you had loved with all your heart.

× × × ×

After driving aimlessly for hours, you finally pull up in front of the Sanctum Sanctorum. The building looms before you, its ancient architecture shrouded in an almost foreboding silence. You sit in the car for a few moments, gathering your strength, knowing the decision you have made is final. The city is quieter now, the hustle and bustle having died down to a gentle hum in the background.

You take a deep breath and step out of the car, your legs feeling like lead. You walk up to the front door and pause for a moment, your hand resting on the cold brass handle. Memories of happier times flash before your eyes—moments of laughter, love, and a bond that once felt unbreakable. But those memories are now overshadowed by the reality of your fractured relationship.

Pushing the door open, you step inside. The familiar scent of incense and ancient books fills your nostrils, but instead of comfort, it brings a pang of sadness. The Sanctum feels emptier than ever, a reflection of the void that has grown between you and Stephen.

As you walk into the living room, you see Stephen sitting on the couch, his head in his hands. He looks up as you enter, his eyes filled with the weariness which mirrors your own.

“Y/N, you're back,” Stephen says softly, standing up. “I was worried about you.”

You nod, your face devoid of emotion. “I needed some time to think.”

Stephen takes a few careful steps, “I know I haven’t been around much. And I know tonight's argument was... I didn’t handle it well. I’m sorry for that.”

You feel a flicker of acknowledgment at his words, you look into his eyes, the eyes you once found so much solace in, and feel a deep sense of finality, “I need to see Wong,” you say, your voice steady and cold, “Is he here?”

Stephen steps closer, his gaze searching your face for any hint of what you might be feeling. “Are you okay now? About earlier. . .”

“I'm fine, Stephen. Really,” you say with a forced smile. “I just need to speak to Wong.”

“Wong? Sure, I'll summon him for you.” Stephen's eyes narrow slightly, sensing something is off. He didn’t think he’d get out of trouble that easily.

A few moments later, Wong enters the room, his expression pondering about what you might need him for. “Y/N, Stephen said you wanted to speak with me. What’s going on?”

You took a deep breath and glanced at Stephen who remained curious about why you needed Wong.

“Are we able to chat somewhere private?” You asked, your eyes flickering towards Stephen which Wong took notice of.

Wong turned his head towards Stephen and then you, “Of course. Follow me.” He headed towards the door to Kamar-Taj.

He led you to the empty library, ensuring no one else was around, and gestured for you to sit across the table from him.

“How can I help?” He asked.

“I hope this isn't too much to ask. . . but can you please cast the Runes of Kof-Kol on me?”

Wong's expression shifts to one of alarm. “The Runes of Kof-Kol? Those spells are dangerous, Y/N. What could possibly make you consider using them?”

You explained the situation, trying your best to keep your voice from breaking, “Stephen and I... we’re not working anymore. It’s too painful. I need to forget him. I want to move on quickly. I don't want to spend months wallowing in heartbreak.”

Wong listens quietly, his expression softening with understanding. “I see. But you know the risks, don’t you? The Runes of Kof-Kol only erases memories, not feelings.”

“I know,” you say firmly.

Wong nods slowly, his gaze thoughtful. “I understand your pain, Y/N. But this is a decision that cannot be undone. I urge you to think about it very carefully. Take some time to reflect on whether this is truly what you want.”

You shake your head, your decision unwavering. “I've already thought about it, Wong. I’ve thought about nothing else. This is what needs to be done.”

Wong sighs, his expression resigned yet compassionate. “Still, I urge you to give it a few more days. I suggest you stay here at Kamar-Taj. Meditate, reflect, and if you still feel the same, we will discuss it again.”

You nod slowly, appreciating his concern. “Alright. I’ll stay and think about it.”

× × × × ×

After you left the library, Wong stood silently, his thoughts troubled by your request. He knew the depth of the pain you were feeling, but the Runes of Kof-Kol were not to be taken lightly. As he pondered the situation, he sensed a presence lingering near the bookshelves. Turning his head slightly, he caught sight of Stephen, partially hidden in the shadows, clearly eavesdropping.

“Strange,” Wong called out, his tone firm but not unkind. “You can come out. I know you've been listening.”

Stephen stepped out, a mixture of guilt and concern etched on his face. “I didn't mean to intrude. I just… needed to know what she was thinking.”

Wong crossed his arms, looking at Stephen with a mixture of disappointment and empathy. “You heard what she said. She's feeling hurt. . . more than I think you realize.”

Stephen sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “I know. I know I've been neglecting her, but my responsibilities... the missions... They demand so much of me. I never wanted her to feel like this.”

Wong nodded, his expression softening slightly. “Your duties are important, Stephen. But so are your personal relationships. Y/N came to you because she believed in you, trusted you. But right now, she feels like she's lost in your shadow.”

Stephen's eyes glistened with unshed tears, a rare display of vulnerability. “I don't know what to do. I don't want to lose her, but I also can't abandon my duties.”

Wong walked over to Stephen, placing a hand on his shoulder. “The balance between your responsibilities and personal life is delicate, but not impossible to achieve. You need to make her feel valued and prioritize your time better. She asked about the Runes of Kof-Kol, so she's considering erasing her memories of you. Right now, though, she needs space to think.”

Stephen's breath hitched, the gravity of Wong's words hitting him hard. “She wants to forget me completely.”

Wong nodded solemnly. “She believes it's the only way to move on from the pain. I advised her to stay here for a few days, to meditate and reflect before making such a drastic decision.”

“I can't let her do this. I need to talk to her, to make her understand that I can change, that I can be better.” Stephen closed his eyes, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. He was about to walk away to find you but Wong stopped him.

“Right now, she needs time. Barging in and trying to convince her otherwise might only push her further away. Give her the space she asked for. If she decides to go through with it, we'll deal with it then. But for now, respect her wishes.” Wong shook his head gently.

Stephen glanced in your direction with a sigh, shrugged off Wong's hand, and returned to the New York Sanctum. That night, sleep eluded him despite his restless tossing and turning. No position felt comfortable, not when your scent lingered on his pillowcases.

Anxiety ate him up, twisting his stomach into knots as he replayed the argument repeatedly in his mind. Each harsh word and dismissive gesture haunted him, intensifying his regret.

He had always prided himself on his composure and control, but now he felt them slipping away. The weight of his mistakes pressed heavily on his chest, making it difficult to breathe.

“I should have been more understanding, I should have put myself in her shoes,” he thought, his mind consumed by remorse.

The thought of your hurt expression cut him deeply, more than any physical pain he had ever endured. He realized how much he valued your presence, your support, and the warmth you brought into his life. The fear of losing you was a constant ache, gnawing at the edges of his consciousness.

He was ashamed of how he had dismissed your feelings, how he had let his pride overshadow the love and respect he had for you.

Desperation clawed at him as he searched for a way to make things right, to prove that he could be the partner you deserved. In the silence of the night, he vowed to himself that he would do better, that he would learn from his mistakes and show you how much you meant to him. That is if it’s not too late.

× × × × ×

Two days later, the peaceful atmosphere of Kamar-Taj had failed to ease the unrest in your heart. Despite your attempts at meditation and introspection, the serenity of the surroundings could not calm the storm of emotions within you. Your resolve remains the same. You knew what needed to be done, and it was time to inform Wong of your decision.

You found Wong in the courtyard, meticulously tending to a small garden. The scent of blooming flowers mixed with the crisp mountain air, creating a serene environment that contrasted sharply with your inner conflict.

“Wong,” you called softly, approaching him.

Wong looked up from his work, his expression calm but observant. “Y/N, have you made your decision?”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “I have. I still want to use the Runes of Kof-Kol.”

Wong sighed, setting aside his tools. “I was hoping you might reconsider, but I respect your decision. . .” he trailed off, noticing Stephen walk towards you, “Give me a moment? I'll back.”

As Wong turned to leave, Stephen entered the courtyard with his presence of authority. He had been waiting for this moment, fully aware that your decision was imminent.

With careful, deliberate steps, he approached you. The air was thick with unspoken emotions, and each passing second felt like an eternity as he stood there gathering the right words to say.

“Y/N,” Stephen began, his voice calm but carrying a hint of vulnerability, his eyes intensely scanning your face for any hint of doubt or hesitation. “Is this truly what you want?”

You jumped slightly, startled by his sudden appearance behind you. “Stephen,” you exclaimed, “What are you doing here?”

“I came to—I just wanted to apologize... that it has led to this. I was wrong…” Stephen began, but his voice seemed to fade into the background as you stared at his face intently, trying to memorize every detail.

As Stephen spoke, the reality of the moment hit you hard. You felt an overwhelming need to imprint his features in your memory: the way his brow furrowed with concern, the earnestness in his eyes, and the subtle lines that hinted at the weight he carried.

Time seemed to slow down, and every second stretched into an eternity. You noticed the slight quiver of his lips, the way his hair framed his face, and even the small scar on his cheek that you had always found endearing.

Your heart ached with the knowledge that this might be the last time you saw him like this, so close and vulnerable. Each detail became precious, a fragment of a moment you desperately wanted to hold onto.

The intensity of your emotions made it hard to breathe, and you felt a lump forming in your throat. Even though Stephen's voice was a distant echo, the look in his eyes told you everything—you were both struggling with the same pain, the pain of letting this story die.

“. . . I love you, Y/N—but if this will save you from the hurt I’ve caused you then so be it. I will cast the spell on you.”

You were taken aback, surprise flickering across your face. “You would do that?”

Stephen stepped closer, his eyes earnest. “Yes. If this is what it takes for you to find peace, then I’ll do it.”

Stephen leads you back in the New York Sanctum, heading towards the ritual chamber in the Undercroft. Each step you took echoed with the weight of what was about to happen. Stephen’s mind was a whirlwind of memories and emotions.

He glanced at you walking beside him, your face a mask of calm determination. Opposite to the storm he knew must be raging inside you. He wished he could reach out, take your hand, and pull you back from the edge of this irreversible decision. But he knew he had no right to, not after everything.

As you descended the final set of steps into the Undercroft, Stephen’s heart ached with regret. He had always prided himself on his ability to solve problems, to find solutions where others saw only obstacles. But here, in this most personal of battles, he had failed. He had failed to protect what mattered most.

Every step felt heavier than the last. Stephen’s mind raced with unspoken words, a torrent of emotions he struggled to contain.

He remembered the early days of your relationship, the way your laughter had filled the Sanctum with warmth, the quiet moments of understanding, and shared dreams. Those memories now felt like shards of glass, cutting into him with each step he took.

He glanced at you again, your determined stride a painful reminder of the distance that had grown between you. He wanted to tell you how much he loved you, how sorry he was for every time he had put his duties before you, for every missed moment, every broken promise. But he knew that words would not change the course you had set for yourself. Actions had spoken louder, and they had driven you to this point.

You reached the entrance to the ritual chamber, Stephen paused, taking a deep breath. The room beyond was prepared, the symbols drawn, the components ready. It was a place of power, of ancient magic, but today it felt like a tomb for the love you had shared.

“Y/N,” Stephen began, his voice soft but heavy with regret. “I want you to know that this isn’t easy for me. I never wanted to hurt you. If I could turn back time and make different choices, I would. But I respect your decision. I hope you find the peace you’re looking for.”

You looked at him with eyes glistening of unshed tears, “Thank you, Stephen. . . I hope you find happiness, I really do.”

With that, you stepped into the center of the circle, and Stephen moved to the edge, his heart pounding in his chest. He began to chant the incantation, his voice strong and unwavering despite the storm of emotions inside him. The symbols around you began to glow, the magic swirling in the air like a tangible presence. You felt a strange sensation, a mix of warmth and cold as the spell took hold.

As Stephen chanted, your mind drifted to the memories you were about to lose. The first time you met flashed vividly in your mind—the way Stephen had looked at you with those piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through you. You remembered feeling an instant connection, a spark that ignited something deep within you. You had been fascinated by his intellect, his confidence, and the way he carried himself with such purpose.

The mornings you woke up wrapped in each other’s arms, sunlight streaming through the curtains, casting a warm glow on your intertwined bodies. The way he would brush a strand of hair from your face and kiss your forehead, making you feel like the most cherished person in the world. You remembered the laughter, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the sound of his voice when he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

As the incantation reached its peak, a bright light enveloped you, and you felt a sudden rush of memories and emotions being pulled away. The love, the pain, the shared moments—all of it faded into a distant, forgotten dream. Your vision blurred, the light intensifying until it was all-consuming.

Then, everything went dark. You felt your knees give way, the world tilting as you lost consciousness. The last thing you heard was Stephen’s voice, calling your name out of concern as you slipped into oblivion.

When you finally stirred, you found yourself lying on the familiar softness of your own bed, the morning light filtering through the curtains. The familiar hum of the city outside your window grounded you, your arms reaching on the other side of the bed and it was empty. You shook it off, chuckling to yourself.

You sat up slowly, looking around your apartment. Everything was in its place—the books on the shelf, the photos on the wall—now mostly of you by yourself, the cozy blanket draped over the armchair. Nothing out of the ordinary and yet you feel disorientated.

You made yourself a cup of tea, the warm liquid offering a small comfort. As you sipped it, you stared out of the window at the bustling city below. The people, the cars, the rhythm of daily life—it all seemed so normal, so unremarkable. Yet, there was an inexplicable void within you, a sadness that lingered just beneath the surface but you try not to dwell on it.

Days turned into weeks, and while the feeling of emptiness persisted, you found ways to move on. You immersed yourself in work, reconnected with old friends, and took up new hobbies. Slowly, you began to carve out a new life for yourself, one that was no longer defined by the shadows of forgotten memories.

× × × × ×

Stephen sat alone in the Sanctum Sanctorum's library, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows on the ancient tomes that lined the walls. The room, once a place of solace and knowledge, now felt suffocatingly empty. He absentmindedly traced the spine of a book he had read countless times, but the words blurred together, unable to hold his attention. His mind was elsewhere, lost in thoughts of you.

He stood up and walked to the window, looking out over the city. The lights twinkled in the distance, a stark contrast to the darkness he felt inside. He remembered how you used to stand there with him, your hand in his, both of you silently watching the world below. Those moments had been a rare reprieve from his responsibilities, a time when he could just be Stephen, not the Master of the New York Sanctum.

The silence of the Sanctum was interrupted only by the distant hum of the city's nightlife, but it felt louder than ever. Every corner of the room seemed to echo with memories of you—the laughter you shared, the quiet conversations late into the night, the way you used to tease him about his incessant need to organize his magical artifacts. Now, those echoes were all he had left, but he guesses that he at least deserved to go through this heartbreak alone.

Wong quietly stood with him, the silence heavy between them. After a moment, he cleared his throat, “Keeping yourself busy?”

Stephen nodded, his response short and clipped. “Yep.”

“She did brighten up the place, didn't she?” Wong glanced around the room, taking in the emptiness that seemed more pronounced now.

Stephen's eyes followed Wong's gaze, a hint of a sad smile touching his lips. “Yep.”

Wong shifted slightly, turning his head to look at Stephen with curiosity and concern. "So, what's next for you?"

Stephen sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he contemplated the question. The thought of waiting was both a comfort and a torment, a reminder of what he had lost and what he still yearned for.

“I don't know... Wait for her, I guess. Wait until our paths cross again, wait until she loves me again.”

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