#TAJ is tired

[jprgirl]

The Almighty Johnsons, Season 3 Episode 5, "Unleash the Kraken!", originally aired on this day 9 years ago - August 1, 2013!

Happy 9 years to my favourite episode, full of gods in costumes, family drama, and some of the funniest bits of the series.

[coffeeflavored-tears]

girl why did i decide to do so much for this. like really i could have just made a pun and a shitty drawing.

[ironstrange1991]

Forbidden (Part 8): I'm Yours

+18 Smut

Pairing: Doctor Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: When Y/n attends a doctor's appointment she ends up discovering something about Stephen's past. At night, desire and reason wage a battle that both she and Stephen cannot fight against.

Word Count: 11,3k

Warnings: SMUT: Fingering, oral sex with male and female receiving, cum eating.

A/N: This one is very long but I had a very nice time writing it. I really hope you guys enjoy it and have a nice reading ;) - Also I was very tired while editing this one so any typos os grammar mistakes will be fixed later.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Stephen had no idea what he was doing. He didn't know how to cook.  He barely knew how to make coffee and tea, but he needed to have something ready to offer you when you woke up. So he got up and went straight to the kitchen to try his luck preparing breakfast.  However, his attempt was frustrated when the eggs began to stick to the bottom of the pan and the bacon, forgotten in the fire, turned to charcoal.

"Shit" He cursed, turning off the heat and using the napkin to try to remove any evidence of smoke from the kitchen. "Okay, plan B." He said throwing the napkin on the stove and resorting to the sling ring in the pocket of his pants. He was about to open a portal when he heard Wong and America's voices approaching.

"What's that smell?" America said as they entered the kitchen. She looked from Stephen to the stove and back to him. "Were you trying to cook?"

He sighed, returning the sling ring to his pocket.

"How many times have I told you to stay out of my kitchen, Strange?" Wong scolded, taking a good look around and then pointed to the frying pan. "Was that supposed to be bacon?"

 "It's my kitchen. I'm the master of this Sanctum and yes, it was supposed to be bacon, but I forgot it in the fire because I was trying to cook the eggs..."

America sat at the table and looked at him for a second. "This is so weird. Why are you acting so weird? And since when do you try to cook?"

Wong moved his fingers and immediately the remnants of Stephen's attempt to make breakfast disappeared. The smell also disappeared. "What does she eat?"

"Wait, who?" America asked and then smiled openly. “Does Y/n here?”

"He wouldn't try to make breakfast for himself." Wong confirmed. “He would rather starve.”

Stephen rested his hands on his hips, running his tongue around the corner of his mouth. "It's not what you’re thinking."

America grimaced. "Oh, gross."

"It's nothing like that. I picked her up at a party and we talked and it got late. That's all."

Wong smirked, clearly unconvinced. Somehow he had already started making a batter that Stephen thought was pancakes. The eggs were already scrambled and ready to go in the frying pan and the bacon slices were already arranged in the other frying pan. Of course he used magic to cook, but Stephen didn't even know how to do that. He never understood the cooking spells books.

"I have no idea what she eats..." He admitted.

"I'm sure she'll be satisfied. She doesn't seem very demanding..."  Wong said without a trace of humor.

Stephen frowned at the comment, but decided not to say anything. Instead he turned to America.

"How are things at Kamar Taj? Have you learned anything special that you want to show me?"

"Boring." The girl replied, "But my portals are more stable, and Wong let me read the astral projection books."

Stephen nodded turning to face Wong. "Is she ready for this yet?"

"No, but she's impatient and stubborn, much like someone I know." Wong responded. He was finishing preparing the eggs and bacon and starting to fry the pancakes.

The corners of Stephen's lips turned up in a discreet smile. "I'm sure she can handle it, then."

America smiled proudly.

...

When you opened your eyes, you had to make an effort to understand where you were, but little by little the memories of last night came back to you and you felt your heart racing in your chest. Your hand felt the mattress next to you, finding only empty space where Stephen once was and you understood that you were alone in the room.

You smiled to yourself while a movie played in your head and without thinking about what you were doing, you hugged his pillow and brought it to your nose, breathing in his delicious smell into your lungs. It was fresh, like some kind of herb scent you couldn’t identify. You decided you loved that smell.

 Everything was so surreal, but at the same time it felt so right. Every kiss, every touch, and that orgasm... Even though you felt blushing, you didn't feel like you had done anything wrong, quite the opposite. And you wanted more. So much more. You wanted to experience everything with him, give yourself completely to him. Somehow you felt like everything made sense now. You never found anyone to lose your virginity to because in reality it was always Stephen.

It took a few minutes for you to finally get up and you were leaving the bathroom, dressed in your dress and boots when Stephen entered the room.

"Hey, good morning." He said, approaching you and kissing you softly as if you had already done that a million times.

"Good morning" You said into his lips. "I used your toothbrush again."

Stephen smirked "Hmm, I can get used to this."

"Hmm, you're so responsive." He whispered in your ear and then stepped away smirking, pleased to see you falling apart for him.

"Maybe you should." You wrapped your arms around his neck and stood on tiptoe to kiss him properly now and his tongue tasted like coffee and toothpaste.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and broke the kiss only to tuck his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. Not satisfied, he rubbed his goatee on your skin and finished with a little bite on your earlobe, making your entire body tremble.  He was such a tease, you thought.

"Breakfast is ready." He informed casually. "Wong and America are back. They're waiting for us downstairs."

You needed a minute to recover from the state he left you in so you could finally think straight.

"Stephen... I don't know if it's a good idea. Wong..."

"He made you breakfast. He has his reservations because of the age difference, but he's on our side, sweetheart. Both are."

You seemed to think for a second.

"Or I can take you home now, like I promised." He offered but you could see the disappointment in his expressions. You shook your head taking his hand in yours.

"No, it's okay. I'm starving and I'm not looking forward to leave you, anyway."

"Me neither." He confessed kissing you. “I feel like a teenager. Don’t want to let you go.”

You smiled feeling your heart flutter in your chest.  You were understanding little by little that that feeling would be an usual thing from now on.

You couldn't say that you ever imagined sitting at the table having breakfast with Wong knowing that he knew you and Stephen were together. It was kind of a dream come true, but at the same time it was scary too. Wong was scaring. He didn't hide the way he looked at you and Stephen. America also didn't make a point of hiding the smile on her face and you began to realize that both of them had joined the dots and reached the very obvious conclusion that you were Stephen had slept together. Well, you had slept together, but the term usually implied that you had had sex, but you hadn't. Not exactly. Well, everything was a bit confusing at the moment.

"America told me you have a show scheduled for tonight." Stephen said, breaking the silence that was starting to get awkward. "You hadn't told me anything."

In fact, you had completely forgotten. Ever since Stephen took you to the Sanctum, everything outside seemed to have ceased to exist.

"I forgot to mention. I actually have a rehearsal this afternoon. It's a big avenue, I'm excited to see how it goes."

Stephen smiled reassuringly at you, clearly noticing the nervousness in your voice. “I’m sure you’re going to be great.”

"Thank you.” You smiled  “You guys should come.  I'd love to have some familiar faces in the audience." You added.

"I would love to..." Stephen started to say, but was quickly cut off by Wong.

"But he will have to decline because we have work to do."

"Come on Wong, it's Sunday." America complained. "Stephen just got back."

"And that's why he has a lot to do." Wong completed and then returned to you "You'll see that dating a master of the mystical arts is not as advantageous as you think, Miss Y/l/n. Especially one his age."

You could notice a slight blush on Stephen's cheeks, that’s why you were firm in your answer. "I am very grateful for everything you guys do to protect us, Wong, and I am prepared for the challenges that await me."

Stephen smirked, but soon turned his attention to America who was whispering about the possibility of going to the show.

Wong pretended not to notice and turned to you again "What about your family? I don't believe Stark will be satisfied with this new arrangement."

"It's not an arrangement, it's a relationship, Wong" Stephen corrected.

"We agreed that we'll wait to tell Tony. It's still too early, but I'm sure he'll understand." You said trying to sound confident, but deep down you were terrified with the idea.

Wong didn't say anything else and you had the strange feeling of being in an interview, as if Wong wanted to know if you were good enough or weren't going to cause problems for Stephen. The situation was awkward, but the idea of ​​Wong caring about Stephen was pleasant, after all you knew Stephen had no family besides Wong and America.

...

“Have a nice show” Stephen said as you walked through the portal to your room.

"You are not going?" The disappointment in your voice was palpable which made him smile.

"I promise I'll try." He said threatening to close the portal.

"Stephen..."

He waited for what you had to say, but you actually didn't have anything specific to say, you just wanted to spend a few more seconds in his presence.

"I really loved last night." You confessed, feeling your cheeks blush.

He smirked seeming visibly relieved.

"I know you're insecure about what we did, but I enjoyed having that moment with you and... I really want to have more of that, of everything."

He nodded and his smile widened into a cute sideways smile.

"Me too, sweetheart. Me too."

"Bye then. Hope to see you tomorrow."

"You will. One way or another."

...

The days that followed were a torment. You were on fire inside, but you needed to pretend everything was normal. You needed to contain all that euphoria and act as if nothing was happening and of course you were failing miserably.

Your life was changing for the better. College was going very well, your band, that you always saw as something condemned to failure, was having success and recognition that you never dreamed it would have, your show on the biggest avenue you've ever played was a real hit - it could have been better if Stephen had been there to see you, but unfortunately it wasn't possible as he explained - and most important of all, you and Stephen were together and even though everything had to be hidden, you were more than happy about it. It was a dream come true.

It was a Wednesday morning and you were having breakfast with Nat, Tony - who had returned from the mission the day before - and Pepper. You were late for college, but you had decided it wouldn't hurt to miss the first class of the morning since you were way ahead of your class anyway. You hadn't been able to see Stephen since Sunday night and although you spoke every day on the phone you missed him deeply. You thought about making up some excuse to go to the Sanctum, but it seemed he would be too busy and couldn't pay attention to you even if you did.

You sighed, feeling bored and just pretending to participate in the conversation and your cell phone started to buzz with messages that didn't stop arriving. You knew it was Stephen. He always texted you at that time to say good morning and wish you a good class. It was cute actually, but you didn't want to answer because you knew you would look silly reading his texts, blushing like a teenage girl, and you didn't want Tony to ask questions, but the texts kept coming and at first Tony pretended not to care by putting a lot of effort into reading his newspaper, but when the buzzing continued he placed the newspaper on the table and stared you.

"If you don't read these texts I'm going to make Friday hack your cell phone and read them to us." He threatened.

You took your phone and read the texts feeling your cheeks blush and of course Pepper noticed because she were very observant, but she made a point of starting a new topic to distract Tony for which you were glad.

"The record company called to schedule a new meeting with Y/n. Apparently the success of Sunday's concert caught their attention."

"The fact that her songs are playing on the radio non-stop seems like a good reason too." Tony added.

"Those fuckers were extremely disrespectful last time. I don't see any point in giving them a second chance when you're doing so well on your own." Nat addressed you, but you weren't really paying attention to them, your mind was still on those texts.

"Y/n... are you listening to what we're saying?" Tony pressed.

You put your phone back in your pants pocket without answering and shrugged, "I like the idea of ​​being independent. I've never really wanted a record company, not like this. We all know they're only interested in having the Stark name under their wing."

Tony sighed "You might be right." He pointed to your pocket "Who was it?"

"America" ​​You lied through your teeth.

"What does she want?" He asked and Pepper gave you a disapproving glare  that said she wasn't buying that lie.

"She's still struggling with her philosophy classes. Maybe I'll stop by the Sanctum tomorrow to help her." You said taking the opportunity to come up with a excuse to go there.

"It's a great idea. Just be careful not to end up disturbing the wizards. You know, protectors of reality bla bla bla." Tony teased.

"Stephen and Wong will probably be at the Kamar Taj." You ran to explain.

"Excellent." He said, wiping his lips on his napkin and standing up. "Anyway, I trust your good judgment about the band and everything else. It's been working out really well so far." He said, bending down to place a small kiss on the top of your head like he always did since you were a child. You smiled at him sheepishly, feeling bad for hiding something so important from him.

"What are the plans for today?" Pepper asked getting up too.

"Work in the workshop if I'm lucky. You?"

"Company shareholders meeting."

He made a funny face "I'm glad I'm not you."

You watched the two walk away with a smile on your face. Tony and Pepper were perfect for each other and they gave you a sense of family and belonging that you never imagined you would feel again after your parents died.

Your cell phone buzzed again, and you knew it was Stephen asking for an answer.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on or am I going to have to threaten you too?" Nat asked looking visibly bored. Apparently life as a convalescent Avenger wasn't all that exciting and since Bruce had a lot of work he couldn't give her the attention she craved.

GOOD MORNING, LOVE. I HOPE YOU SLEPT WELL AND HAVE A GREAT DAY.

You took your cell phone and decided to show her the texts. It was time for you to tell someone and the options were her and MJ, but MJ was in Boston.

You stayed silent watching her reading the words you knew by heart.

I SCHEDULED AN APPOINTMENT FOR YOU WITH DR PALMER AFTER OUR CONVERSATION YESTERDAY. SHE ATTENDS AT METRO GENERAL HOSPITAL. IT WILL BE THIS AFTERNOON. I KNOW YOU ARE FREE BECAUSE YOU TOLD ME.

PLEASE GO AND WE CAN TALK ABOUT IT TONIGHT IF YOU WANT.

 I MISS YOU, SWEETHEART. TALKING ON THE PHONE IS NOT ENOUGH AND I CAN'T GET THE MEMORIES OF SATURDAY NIGHT OUT OF MY HEAD.

SO, WHAT DO YOU TELL ME? ARE YOU GOING?

It took Nat less than a minute to google who Dr. Palmer was and the look on her face showed that she had gotten it all wrong.

"You two aren't that stupid!" She said sharply and you felt offended that she could make assumptions about you like that.

"It's not what you are thinking." You defended yourself and took the cell phone out of her hand. "It's actually the opposite of that."

Nat waited for you to explain, and you glanced around the empty dining room.

"Nat, I'm virgin. I swear I thought you knew that, after all you are a Russian spy."

She raised an eyebrow. "I always knew that, but according to these texts you no longer are."

You smiled to yourself remembering the night you had with Stephen and decided that nothing in the world would make you tell that to Nat. "We had a moment together, it was good, but we didn't get to do anything. Not yet. He's decided to take it slow and respect my own time."

Nat nodded in agreement, looking offensively impressed.

"But the truth is, I don't want to wait another minute to do it. I really love him, Nat. It has to be him. It couldn't be anyone else."

"Look, I confess that Strange has surprised me positively. And I think it should happen, it's been a long time coming."

"Nat!"

"I'm just trying to say that I think he's sensible. As sensible as possible since he's picking this fight with Stark."

You bit the corner of your cheek trying to decide whether or not it was better to stop that conversation, but ended up not resisting. "But you're on our side, right? Stephen thinks that when we tell him, the Avengers will be against him. It's important to have at least one Avenger on our side. Someone who truly understands."

Nat sighed heavily, probably realizing the trouble she'd gotten herself into, but finally she smiled reassuringly. "I'm by your side."

...

You hated hospitals. Your nails continued to dig holes into your palms as you headed to the elevator of the huge, luxurious building to get to the obstetrics and gynecology floor, but it wasn't just the fact that hospitals made you feel sick that was making you anxious. In fact, you did yourself the bad favor of searching for Dr Palmer online during boring morning classes and found some photos of her and Stephen together at some events. You knew very well that Stephen worked at that hospital for years before his accident and that it was normal for him to have photos with his coworkers, but your anxious mind kept telling you that there was a compromising intimacy in those photos you saw.

You got out of the elevator in a kind of daze and observed the waiting room, which at that time was completely empty.

“Miss Y/l/n, right?” The secretary asked as you approached the counter. You smiled and nodded. You had been used to being recognized in places for a long time. It was the price you paid for being Iron Man's goddaughter.

"I have an appointment with Dr. Palmer."

"I need your ID for registration and we will need a photo for your record. Can you look at the camera, please?"

You did what the woman asked almost automatically, a whirlwind of thoughts racing through your mind.

You waited for what seemed like an eternity as the woman typed.

"Ready." She informed you and you handed her the credit card, but instead of taking it she just smiled.  "It says here that the appointment has already been paid for. Your ID. Just wait a minute. She'll call you."

You rolled your lips together "Is it okay if I ask who paid for the appointment?"

She looked at the monitor looking equally curious. "Let's see... It says Dr. Strange. Oh, he used to work here, you know? I came to talk to him a few times. Brilliant doctor. Of course, now that he's a superhero he doesn't come to the hospital anymore."

"I'm sure the fact that he can't practice medicine anymore is the real reason." You answered.

"Ah of course. A tragedy!"

You just nodded with a polite smile and walked away, sitting in one of the many empty armchairs drumming your fingers on the arms of it and letting your mind do what it did best. Stephen was a neurosurgeon, what reason did he had to come to the gynecology floor often enough for the secretary to remember him? What if they were more than work friends? What if they still kept in touch? Stephen just said that she was a friend, but didn't give any more details, however he felt free to pay for your appointment  with his own card. What if he had told her everything about you?

“Miss Y/l/n?” A velvety voice called, and you faced the doctor in all her glory dressed in a ridiculous pink coat, but it didn't make her any less beautiful for that. "Come in, please."

You entered the huge office that had plaques and awards with her name on shelves as if they were trophies.

"Before we begin, allow me to formally introduce myself. I am Dr. Christine Palmer."

You smiled politely "Y/n Y/l/n."

"Tony Stark's daughter." She said with a kind of reverence in her voice.

"Goddaughter, actually. But I don't think there's much of a difference." You corrected it.

She smiles, showing annoyingly perfect teeth. "Stephen told me about you. He called me personally to ask for the appointment, given his insistence should I assume something is wrong, miss Y/l/n?"

"Please, call me Y/n." You said feeling yourself blush. You had no idea how to start and the fact that this woman knew Stephen didn't help matters."

"I saw some pictures of you and Doctor Strange, are you friends?" You asked, scaping from the initial and most important question.

She seemed slightly confused by the question, but replied simply "Stephen and I are work friends, well we were work friends. I hadn't seen him in ages, in fact I was surprised when he called me."

You agreed "There's nothing wrong. I actually need a method of contraception." You exhaled slowly and finished speaking at once, "I'm a virgin and I intend to stop being so."

She nodded, keeping her expression professional, but you knew her head was working on the connection between what you just said and the fact that Stephen was so insistent that the appointment be as quick as possible, in addition to the fact that he paid for the appointment. For you, at least, the truth was almost obscene.

"I see. Well, there is a huge variety of methods. Pills are the most common, but I personally really like Implants.

"What is the most effective method?" You asked apprehensively.

She smiled, seeming to notice your hesitation and continued. "The pill requires an almost religious commitment. It must be taken every day at the same time and cannot be forgotten. For this reason, I usually recommend the implant. Furthermore, it is one of the methods that least affects your libido and since you just explained that you want to start your sex life now, I imagine this is an important aspect for choosing."

You nodded feeling like your face was on fire and she continued to pretend not to notice.

"It lasts for 3 years and can be reapplied after that and as there is no danger of forgetting like the pill, its effectiveness is usually 99.9%"

"Does it hurt?"

"It's a simple procedure and we use local anesthesia. It can be done today if you prefer."

You swallow thickly. "After I put it on, how long will it take before I can..." You let the words trail off in the air.

"It depends on when your last period was, but in general it is preferable to wait 10 to 15 days to be sure. Remembering that this does not mean that you cannot have sex before this period, but you need to use condoms."

You nodded. "Does it have side effects?"

"It is common for women to stop menstruating when using it, but it is also common to have breakthrough bleeding. In general, menstruation will be very irregular until your body gets used to it. The good news is that it tends to greatly reduce the effects of PMS."

You nodded. "Can we put it on now?"

"Sure." She said, getting up and going to one of the huge closets in the office.

When returning home in the taxi you could feel your arm slightly numb due to the anesthesia and the small bandage, as small as it was, was quite visible and you were going crazy thinking about what to say in case someone noticed.

Luckily when you entered the tower you didn't bump into anyone on the way to your room and after closing the door you threw yourself on the bed and called MJ, after all you owed her an update and there was indeed a lot to tell.

...

Stephen checked his cell phone every five minutes waiting for news, but every time he was disappointed. To make matters worse for him, the day was being particularly slow and he would rather be dealing with some interdimensional beast than facing that anxiety alone. He was particularly worried about the fact that he hadn't explained to Y/n that he and Christine had an affair years ago and being as smart as she was it was clear to him that it wouldn't take long for her to find out. That's if she hadn't already discovered it. God, he looked like a teenager experiencing his first love. What was Y/n doing to him?

He was in the Kamar Taj library doing the worst, most boring job in the world when America came running in looking for him.

"You won't believe what I almost managed to do!"  The enthusiasm in her voice made him bite back a snarky comment.

"I hope it's better than spending the whole afternoon cataloging books."

"So much better. I almost managed to conjure the mirrored dimension. I could even hear and see the glass breaking, but I couldn't maintain focus for long enough. Master Hamir said it's normal and that I have to keep trying."

"And he's right." Stephen said, putting the last book on the shelf and closing the ledger. He placed it in the librarian's desk drawer and checked his cell phone again. Nothing.

"Something wrong?" America asked and he shook his head.

"I hope not. Come here, I'm proud of you, kid."

America walked over and he wrapped his arms around her. It was a strange sensation. Letting someone get close to him like that after so long running away from any relationship with another person, however since America arrived, she started to soften his heart and Y/n was doing much more than that.

"Uh Stephen... you can let me go now."

"Oh ok." He said a little sheepishly and released the grip of his arms around her. America stepped away looking at the Sorcerer Supreme's book collection.

"Oh they are so mysterious. I would die to read one of those." She exclaimed!

"You wouldn't read them if you were dead."

She looked at him rolling her eyes "Have you read them yet?"

"Sometimes."

"So, I don't need to be a Sorcerer Supreme to be able to read them?"

"No. You just need to be smarter than I was when I read them and not cause problems."

She smiles "I think I can do that."

Stephen was ready to tell her it was easier said than done when they heard footsteps approaching in the hallway.

"Strange, are you done working here?" Wong asked, looking at them with a look that clearly said 'shouldn't you be doing something useful?'".

"Yep. By the way I'm heading back to Sanctum to check if everything's okay. Are you coming with me?" He asked America to which she grimaced.

"I still have one more class."

He nodded, taking his sling ring from his pocket and opening a portal home.

"See you tomorrow then."

...

It was past 10pm and you and Stephen were texting like two teenagers and you had to cover your mouth to muffle the sound of your giggles as you read each of his texts. He was so silly and cute and dirty and funny and so many other things that you had no way of knowing before you actually got to know him. Yes, he was a powerful sorcerer and a famous superhero, but when he talked to you, he was just Stephen and you felt yourself falling more and more in love with him with each passing minute.

I WANTED YOU WERE HERE

You suddenly confessed to which he texted back immediately.

YOU KNOW I CAN FIX THAT, RIGHT?

You bit your bottom lip, sitting up in bed immediately. Were he serious?

WOULDN'T IT BE VERY INAPPROPRIATE?

He answered with an emoji smiling sideways exactly like he used to do and just thinking about that smile made you simply abandon your reason. You got up and locked the door and took a look in the mirror. You were reasonably presentable. Fresh from the shower, comfortable lingerie covered by an old tee, hair tied in a messy bun. You smile at your image in the mirror and throw yourself on the bed, picking up your cell phone and answering.

I’M WAITING.

It didn't take a full minute before you heard the familiar hiss of the portal and Stephen walked past it with a smirk on his lips. He was dressed in sweatpants and a tee and his hair was wet and the smell of cologne made it possible to tell that he had also just gotten out of the shower.

"We can't make any noise. Tony and Pepper's room is next door." You whispered.

His smirk widened into a cocky grin. "I can fix that too." He whispered back.

"Yeah? How?"

He moved his hands in a complicated gesture and the walls were enveloped by a kind of ring of golden light that soon dissipated completely.

"Totally soundproof." He informed proudly. “Very useful spell.”

"That was sexy." You smiled, getting up and going to him. Stephen wrapped you in his arms containing your sudden advance and held your face gently directing you to his lips and kissed you slowly, but devilishly good and you felt your knees getting weak.

"I've missed you all day." He confessed as he finally allowed his lips to part to breathe. "I don't care how this sounds, Y/n, but I really don't know how I managed to spend so much time loving you from afar. I don't want to be away from you anymore. Never."

You didn't have time to formulate an answer because he pulled you to his lips again and this time he tightened his grip around your body and you could feel every muscle beneath the thin fabric of the t-shirt and the inviting heat coming from his skin.

"I've missed you all day too." You confessed, holding his hand and pulling him to your bed. You sat crisscrossed against the headboard and he sat facing you, but he stole one of your pillows and lay down next to you with the same naturalness as someone who always did that.

"But you kept me waiting for a text all day." He complained.

"Because I was a little mad at you and I didn't know what to say."

He sighed, "I knew I should have talked about Christine with you, but Sweetheart it was years ago, I swear I didn't think it was important enough to mention."

You ran your tongue along the corner of your cheek. "I knew there was something in those photos. MJ kept telling me I was being paranoid, but I'm never wrong."

Stephen buried his face in the pillow groaning, "That wasn't what you were mad about, was it?"

"No, but thanks for adding another reason."

He looked at you trying to be serious, but there was an arrogant smile on his lips. "I've always wanted to know what you're like when you're jealous."

"I am not jealous!" You defended yourself taking one of the pillows that were next to you and throwing at him. "I just think you have no idea how uncomfortable it was for me to be there talking to your ex about losing my virginity and choosing contraceptive methods when you made a point of making everything so obvious by insisting that the appointment was scheduled as soon as possible and the worst part, you paid for it."

"It was the very least I could do. You went there because of me." He defended himself.

"That’s not true. I went there because of me and Stephen, don't make me talk about a topic I don't feel comfortable talking about."

He said nothing, instead he continued looking at you waiting for you to speak.

"I don't need you to pay me anything. I'm Tony Stark's goddaughter!"

He rolled his eyes. "It's not about the money..."

He stopped and took a deep breath and then began to explain himself. "Y/n, you're half my age, less than that. You're a virgin, which scared me a little, I confess, but it also makes me feel protective towards you. I wanted you to have the best doctor in the city, probably in the country and I was anxious for us to resolve this as soon as possible and I didn't stop to think for a second about my past with Christine because it didn't mean anything to me. She was a friend I had sex with at work, that's all."

You opened your mouth to interrupt him several times, but ended up giving in. Deep down you knew you were being dramatic.

"She is very beautiful." You said with a pout.

"No more than you." He responded, opening his arms so you could cuddle into his chest. You lid down letting yourself be hugged as you became aware that Stephen was really in your room at that time of night. It was wrong somehow, even though you were an adult, the secret made everything feel so dirty, but you couldn't deny to yourself that you were enjoying the feeling.

You held Stephen's face in your hands and kissed him hard like you wanted from the moment he arrived and he let out a soft moan on your lips that made your heart jump in your chest.

"Now tell me about the appointment." He asked when you finally broke the kiss.

You told all the details of the most awkward medical appointment of your life and each time you brought new information you felt your face getting hotter.

"It's just a little sore now." You said as he ran his index finger lightly over the band aid you placed on your forearm.

"Well, I also have something to show you." He said moving the fingers of one hand and conjuring a sealed envelope. He handed it to you with a somewhat shy smile that was unusual for him, but equally beautiful.

"What is this?" You asked curiously.

"Open it."

You opened it and only after finding his name in the top right corner of the sheet did you understood.

The laboratory exam had a list of tests that were carried out to detect herpes, syphilis, hepatitis, HIV, among others and at the end of the sheet there was a single line that said: negative for the pathologies tested.

He waited silently for some kind of response, but all you could think was that you didn't need that. His words were enough for you.

"When did you take these tests?"

"Yesterday."

You handed the sheet back to him and kissed him softly "I believed you when you said you haven't had anyone in the last six months. You didn't need to..."

"But I wanted to. It's important to me that you know I'm clean. It's the least I could do since you..."

You waited for him to finish, but he just smiled.

“Since I…” You pressed.

"Since you're giving yourself to me."

You smirked at his choice of words.

"Is that what I'm doing?"

He held your chin steady and bit your bottom lip to tease you.

"You know very well what you are doing, young lady, and you know very well how much I am looking forward to it."

You nodded, but pouted "Your ex said we should wait at least 10 days..."

He rolled his eyes, "Don't call her that. It's not fair."

You let out a soft giggle "Fair enough, but it doesn't change what she said."

He kissed you softly and ran his index finger down your neck, down to your breast and circled your nipple until it got hard under your shirt.

"I’m a patient man." He said in the most anti-climax statement you could imagine.

"Well, but I’m not a patient woman. I'm so tired of waiting, Stephen. I've already waited too long." You grumbled, crossing your arms like a child indignant at being denied their favorite toy.

"For someone who have waited until now, you are very impatient indeed." He teased.

"For someone who hasn't had sex in six months, you're really slow."  You replied to which he let out a small laugh, but then he held your face in his hands and kissed you hard with tongue, teeth and a newfound passion that literally took your breath away.

"Just because I was trying to play nice, but now I think you've changed my mind. Now I’m going to take advantage of your inexperience. What do you say, sweetheart?"

You bit your lower lip, feeling your cheeks heat up, but you didn't let yourself be intimidated by your shyness. "Yes."

Stephen's eyes darkened with desire and a sly smile played on his lips. "Yeah? You don't even know what I have in mind and you're already saying yes."

You nodded "I trust you."

"But you shouldn't." He kissed you and pushed you onto your back and came on top of you, spreading your legs with his knees and fitting himself between them. He made a point of rubbing his hips against your core, making you feel his half-hard cock contained inside his pants. Unable to control yourself you let out a small moan and he chuckled in your ear making your skin prickle.

"You have no idea how much I want to make love to you finally. I've already waited too long..."

He kissed you again and ground himself against you without any shame and this time you didn't even try to contain your moan as your body responded to the stimulation with a wave of pleasure.

“Stephen…” You mumbled almost incoherently.

"Yes, sweetie. Tell me what you want."

"Touch me. I need you to touch me. I always imagined what it would be like to have your hands on me, your fingers..."

He smirked taking his hands under your t-shirt and grabbing your panties.

"You’re sure?" He confirmed and you nodded, raising your hips for him to take off your panties and your whole body shivered with the night air when he did so.

He lifted your t-shirt to waist level and finally allowed himself to look at your naked body, his hands slid up your legs and before you could understand what he was doing he started placing little kisses on the inside of your thighs and the brush of his goatee against your skin made your entire body prickle.

"Your skin is so soft and smells so good."  He praised, moving his lips in small wet kisses down your crotch and getting more and more dangerously close to where you really wanted him. "I imagined myself doing this so many times..."

"Stephen...please." You wonder if you knew what you were begging for. You just knew you didn't want him to stop, you just wanted much more."

But he stopped, at least long enough to give you a smug look and put his middle finger to his mouth. He sucked his own finger and then took it between your legs, opened your folds with his other fingers and touched your clit lightly, but enough to make your entire body tremble with the sensation.  He slid his finger up and down between your folds with absurd ease and you realized that you were shamefully wet and of course he noticed that too.

"Fuck sweetheart, is this all because of me?" He teased, moving his finger in circles on your clit and making your hips buck against his hand. "So sensitive. I've barely touched you yet."

You bit your lip trying to hold back a moan, but it escaped your lips anyway.

"It's okay, I like listening to you, love." He cooed encouraging you. "I'm going to try something else and you're going to tell me how you feel about it, okay?"

You nodded watching him dive between your legs. He licked you from bottom to top and then used his fingers to spread your folds and then licked again directly on your clit this time and you moaned outrageously loud. No words were necessary.

He hummed pleased with your reaction and gave it a long lick again and then began to flick the tip of his tongue on your clit sending shocks of pleasure throughout your body. The touch of his beard on your sensitive skin increased all the sensations even more.

"Fuck Stephen... oh my..." You stopped biting your lip and grabbing his hair with one of your hands without realizing what you were doing, but he didn't seem to mind.

You always heard about how good oral sex was, but you never imagined it felt this good and at the same time you were a mess of sensations and feelings because you had never been touched by a man before and not just any man was doing, it was Stephen, your Stephen and the realization of that brought you surprisingly close to cumming and you found yourself desperate to warn him because... wouldn't it be rude if you came in his face?

"Stephen, I think I'm gonna..."

But he stopped immediately upon hearing those words and emerged to look at you with the most beautiful and naughty smile in the world.

"You're very sensitive, sweetheart. I've barely started." He said, running a hand over his face.

"I didn't want to... in your face." You confessed and he smiled sweetly at you.

"Sweetheart, there's nothing wrong with that. In fact, I'd love it if you did."

"But isn't it gross?" You asked, still unsure, to which he shook his head. "I like it."

You felt yourself blushing "But you stopped."

He smirked "Just because I don't want it to end so quickly. Sex shouldn't be a quick thing, at least not most of the time, we should make it last and that means lessening the stimulation before finishing." He moved so he could kiss you and you found the taste on his tongue strange, but at the same time you found it sexy knowing that it was your taste. "We're just getting started." He whispered against your lips as he brought your index finger back to his lips, he sucked on it and then brought it between your legs and teased your entrance lightly.

"Tell me, when you touch yourself, do you only play with your clit or..." He forced your entrance slightly and you felt your muscles contracting involuntarily.

"You never used your fingers here?" He asked and you shook your head.

"Okay, but I can try a little, can't I? Or do you want me to stop?"

You held his face in your hands.

"Will it hurt?"

He kissed your lips gently, "Not if I do it slowly. And I won't go deep. You just said you trust me, remember?"

You nodded. "I do."

He smiled and you felt a small pressure at your entrance and you immediately squeezed your eyes closed waiting for the pain, but it didn't come, on the contrary you were washed by a wave of pleasure when he started to use his thumb on your clit as he slowly penetrated the middle finger on you.

"Shit." You cursed through your teeth and he chuckled in satisfaction.

"Good girl."

He started to move his finger in and out and the feeling was strange but good at the same time and the next thing you knew you were moving your hips against his hand seeking more friction. He understood immediately and began to put more pressure on his thumb, circling your clit slowly while fingering you.

"I'm going to put another finger, okay? Tell me if it hurts and I'll stop immediately."

You nodded without doubting his word for a moment. You knew Stephen would never hurt you on purpose.

He used his index finger to stretch you a little more and you felt the pressure again and an uncomfortable tug that soon disappeared giving way to pleasure.

"God, you have magical fingers." You heard yourself confessing.

"That's one way of putting it." He teased "But you haven't seen anything yet, sweetheart."

You bit your bottom lip, holding back a moan when he circled his thumb around your clit just the right way and your legs shook with the wave of pleasure that enveloped you.

"Then show me. I want you to teach me everything."

He smiled brightly and pulled you to his lips and kissed you hard, his tongue chased yours in a battle for dominance that you had no intention of winning and he hummed in your lips adorably.

"You're every man's dream, you know that?" He said as he finally allowed himself to break the kiss. "Beautiful, inexperienced and so willing to please. Somehow you make my heart beat faster in my chest and my dick throb in my pants with the same intensity at the same time."

You smiled proudly "Then take me. I'm yours. I always wanted to be yours and no one else's."

You entwined your fingers in his hair and pulled him to your lips again, but his lips didn't just stop at your mouth, they went down your neck where he placed little kisses and bites and then went up to your ear, brushing his goatee there and making your skin prickle again and you swallow thickly. You loved when he did that and he sure as hell knew that.

"Stephen... make love to me. I want it... tonight."

His fingers didn't stop stimulating you for a second, but you wanted more, you wanted to know how it would feel to have him inside you thrusting into you with the same passion you saw the actors in the movies doing, but he shook his head.

"We can't, love."

You shook your head trying to reason with him "We can. We just need to use..."

He interrupted you by kissing you and then explained "I know, but I don't want our first time to be with a condom. It's not the same."

"Oh" That's all you said, and he smiled seeming a little embarrassed "It doesn't change much for you, but for me... shit, now I'm being selfish..."

"It's okay." You reassured him cupping his face gently "I didn’t know. We can wait."

He sighed smiling "But that doesn't mean I can't give you what you need." With that he dived between your legs again and used his tongue on your clit again, but now he wasn't content with just licking, he started sucking as if he was nursing on your sensitive bud and while he did this his fingers continued playing at your entrance, moving in and out at a lazy pace and the combination of stimulation was enough to push you to the edge.

"Oh shit... oh Stephen... gonna cum."

He hummed satisfied and this time he didn't stop, on the contrary, he increased the intensity of the suction on your clit which made you scream in the middle of the orgasm that washed over you.

Your legs shook around his head, your nails dug into his scalp and your fingers pulled his hair and the most beautiful little scream in the world escaped your lips when you came in his mouth. He lapped up all your fluids like a thirsty man and then emerged from the paradise between your legs to look at you and the way you glanced at him made his heart jump in his chest.

Stephen couldn't remember the last time he had given oral sex to a woman. A sexist part of him thought it was too intimate to be done with any of the women he had slept with in recent years, but with you it was natural. It wasn't like he planned it. Stephen was coming to the conclusion that nothing with you happened as planned, you were too spontaneous for that and he was weak in his convictions when it came to you, but it didn't matter, he had loved it, every second between your legs, listening to your little moans were like a trip to paradise and he felt ecstatic.

He moved on top of you, careful not to release the weight of his body on you and cupped your face, pulling it to his lips.

"God I love you, sweetheart."  He heard himself confessing. Stephen had never been so in love in his entire life and as such he never found himself confessing his feelings like that, but it was true. He loved you so much that somehow he knew he couldn't contain it inside him, he needed to pour that love into you again and again.

As if you could read his mind, you smiled the most beautiful smile in the world "I love you too." You whispered and your face turned red with the realization of what had just happened and he thought it was adorable. Yes, he had been surprised by the discovery of your virginity and yes, that had complicated things a little, but he would be a liar if he said he wasn't loving every minute of it. Your innocence and inexperience made everything more exciting.

"I love the way you blush."  He confessed, kissing your lips lightly and then rolled to the side, resting his head on his pillows.

"That's good because I can't control this. It's all so embarrassing, will this become normal for me one day?"

He couldn't help but laugh at your comment.

"Do not laugh at me." You protested, covering your face with your hands, but Stephen held them and replied, "I'm not laughing at you and the answer is yes. It'll become normal."

You turned to snuggle into him and he wrapped his arm around you, letting you lay your head on his shoulder as he intertwined your leg with his.

"Do you remember your first time?" You asked as your fingers traced his goatee absently minded.

Oh yes, he remembered it perfectly and never stopped feeling embarrassed by it.

"Tragically yes." He replied.

"That bad?" You asked curiously.

"I had no idea what I was doing, and it must have lasted three minutes."

Now it was your turn to laugh, but he didn't care, he had already overcome the trauma.

"I was always afraid of doing it with someone my age and ending up in an awkward situation where we both wouldn't know what to do." You confessed, still stroking his beard and Stephen noticed how much he liked feeling the touch of your hands on him.

"I think it's very difficult for a guy your age to still be a virgin, sweetheart. The risk was practically zero."

"But they wouldn't be like you." You insisted and your face flushed again "You're very experienced and although I don't like thinking about you with other women, I like the fact that you know what you're doing, it makes me feel safer."

He nodded. What impressed Stephen, besides the fact that you were a virgin at age 21, was that you had almost no sexual experience besides watching porn and touching yourself.

"You made me feel very safe while you were..."

"Going down on you" He finished for you and you nodded.

"I didn't imagine it would be so good. I mean, I've read about it, I've seen it in the movies, but nothing prepared me for reality."

Stephen smiled broadly. "I'm not going to be modest about it and say it's always like this. Most men have a hard time satisfying a woman this way."

"But not you." You said and pulled him to your lips and Stephen let himself be guided by the intensity of your kiss. So inexperienced, but kissed like a whore. He thought and quickly scolded himself.

You hummed adorably at his lips and then broke the kiss and said simply "I want to touch you now."

His cock pulsed in his pants at that, but he tried hard to reason with you.

"Are you sure? You know you don't have to do this just because I did it to you."

You nodded "I know. I want to. I want to see you the same way you saw me and pleasure you to hear you moaning too."

Stephen couldn't help but smile and comment, "You're going to have to be really good to make me moan, sweetheart. Do you think you can do that?"

You blushed heavily but were firm in your response "I learn fast, you just need to teach me how to do it."

Another twitch in his cock and this time it didn't go unnoticed by you. You lowered your hand that was resting on his chest and touched his dick through his pants.

"It's so... hard." You said

"Because of you. Your innocence leaves me like this." He confessed.

"I'm not innocent." You protested to which he chuckled.

"Maybe not in other things, but in this you are."

His cock started to throb again and you looked at him in surprise, but didn't say anything. It was as if you knew that asking anything would prove his point.

"Hard is good. It's exactly how you want me. And this..." His cock twitched again "It's also because of you, it shows how much I want you."

You were blushing, but a proud smile played on your lips.

He watched you move your hand lightly over his erection and then your fingers threatened to go inside his pants, but you stopped confirming "Can I?"

"Yes." He said and his voice sounded shaky with excitement. Stephen had fantasized about this so many times.

You put your hand inside his pants and seemed surprised to notice that he wasn't wearing any underwear. He never wore underwear when he got dressed to sleep, in fact when it was hot he even wore clothes to sleep.  To his surprise, the brief moment of hesitation was replaced by the impulse to touch him, and you grabbed him in your hand and started moving up and down, probably imitating what you had seen in the movies. The sudden stimulation made a small moan escape his lips and you smiled victoriously.

"Brat" He said biting his lower lip and surrendering to your touch. "Wait, let me take this off, you need to see what you're doing."

You moved your hand away enough for him to free himself from his pants and then your eyes feasted on his thighs and finally settled on his cock.

"You can touch me however you want now." He said

You held it firmly in your hand and moved it up and down slowly and he had the feeling that that was pretty much all you knew how to do. The stimulation was delicious. For someone who had had no sexual stimulation other than his own hand for six months, any foreign touch was enough, but he wanted just so much more.

He moved his fingers quickly conjuring up a bottle of lube and explained "Here, sweetheart. You lube naturally, but I need this. Give me your hand."

You turned your palm upwards and waited for him to pour some of the clear gel. He was not modest in quantity. Stephen liked a lot of lubrication.

"Now you can do what you were doing, but it will feel much better."

You nodded, grabbing his cock again and slowly moving it up and down, letting the lube spread over his entire length making a delicious squelching sound.

"Make sure to touch the head when your hand goes up. Here..." He showed his frenulum to you "It's very sensitive, I like it when I'm touched here."

You nodded, completely concentrated on his explanation and started to raise your hand further to touch where he had shown you, a wrinkle of concentration formed between your eyebrows and Stephen found it adorable. His cock throbbed in your hand again and a loud moan escaped through his teeth.

"Shit, love. You’re a fast learner."

You smiled happily at the compliment "Can I use both hands? I saw it in a movie and the guy seemed to like it."

Stephen nodded. "Give me the other hand, let's get some more of this."

You did as he asked and then grabbed him with both hands stroking him nice but very lightly.

"You can use a little more force, sweetheart." He instructed and his voice sounded shaky.

"I don't want to hurt you. I know it’s very sensitive."

He smiled widely. You were so sweet, he was basking in your inexperience and there was no reason for him to hide how much he was enjoying the whole thing.

"Not that sensitive. You can squeeze a little more. I'll like it. Isn't that what you want? To make me feel good?"

"Yes." You said biting your bottom lip while tightening the grip of your hand around him and for a minute the only sound that could be heard was the wet squelching of your hands on his dick and the heavy breathing followed by moans that he couldn't control. .

"So fucking good... these little hands feel amazing, sweetheart."

You smile "Really?"

"So, so good. I've fantasized about this moment so many times..."

You bit your lip, looking undecided whether to say something or not.

"What is it?" He asked.

"Is it okay if I put it in my mouth? I've never done this, but I'd like to try."

Stephen moaned loudly "Wanna give me a blow job?"

You nodded. "But I do not know how..."

He moaned loudly and his hips jumped against your hand. At that point, Stephen didn't know if he would last long.

He cupped your cheek gently and ran his thumb across your lips, forcing you to separate them. "Open it for me." He asked, placing his thumb inside your mouth when you obeyed. He left his finger on your tongue collecting saliva and forcing you to swallow around it and when you did he closed his eyes and imagined the feeling of it around his dick.

"Suck it." He ordered and you obeyed, sucking his finger slowly.  You were so good at following orders, so sweet and so obedient. Something about it all was revealing a side of Stephen that even he didn't know and he was enjoying it.

"See how easy it is? Now let's try to do the same thing but on my cock." He took his finger out of your mouth and grabbed his dick and directed it to your mouth.

"Open it big for me." He asked and you did exactly as he said.

Stephen smiled, placing just the head in your mouth. "You're going to suck it like it's a lollipop. Don't use your teeth, just your lips and tongue."

You seemed lost at first, the sweet taste of the lube wasn't exactly ideal, but it was better than saliva, at least at first. Deep down he was dreaming of seeing you going dirty, spitting on his cock without fear of making a mess.

A wrinkle of confusion appeared between your eyebrows, but you continued sucking his head slowly.

"Now use your tongue, you can flick it around my cock, it feels really nice."

You did exactly as he asked, eliciting a surprised groan from his throat when the tip of your tongue flicked onto his frenulum. "Shit, you learn so fast, sweetheart."

You took it out of your mouth to breathe and smiled proudly at him as he couldn't help but tease you. "You like being praised, don't you? Does it make you feel good?"

To his delight you blushed heavily making his cock pulse in your hand.

"See? That's how much I want you. Because you are so fucking special to me..."

He was interrupted when you leaned in to give him a hard kiss that took his breath away and then you put his cock in your mouth again and without him needing to teach you, you started using your hand around what you couldn't take and Stephen grabbed the sheets with one hand while he brought the other to your head, threading his fingers through your hair. You let out a sweet moan of approval around his cock and he had to control himself not to push your head or thrust against your mouth. Stephen liked to be rough when given oral, most of the time he forced deep throat because he loved cumming deep in their throats, but he could never do that to you. At least not yet and definitely not without your consent.

"Fuck... twist your hand while you move it up and down, sweetheart and keep using your tongue, give me a hard suck on the head... just like that... yeah, use your tongue just like that."

You followed each of his instructions masterfully which was quickly taking him to his limit and when he noticed how you started to moan while sucking him, how your legs started to rub against each other, clearly feeling pleasure while giving him pleasure, he knew he couldn't hold on much longer.

"Wait, sweetheart... stop, please." He moved his hand down to your chin and gently pulled your mouth away from his dick.

You seemed a little confused "Why? I thought I was enjoying it. Did I do something wrong?"

He chuckled nervously "I was, I am...very much." He ran say a little embarrassed. "I don't want to finish in your mouth. It's your first time and it might be a little gross." 

He saw the realization on your face immediately and then you stared at his cock with a newfound curiosity.

"What does it taste like?"

Stephen smiled "To be honest, I don't know. It's salty. Most women don't like it."

You frowned, "I'm not most women."

"Of course not. You're my sweetheart." He said and watched you blush again. He would never get tired of it.

You went back to holding his cock, stroking it lightly up and down, being careful to touch the head as he explained and watched him twitching.

"I want to see you finish." You confessed.

He nodded "Just use your hands then."

"But will they be enough?" You asked increasing your grip again while stroking his cock.

Stephen groaned through his teeth.

"Of course. These sweet tiny hands are more than enough."

You smiled watching Stephen surrender completely to your touch. You were learning a lot that night and one of the things you enjoyed most was the sweet noises he made when he felt pleasure. It was hard to imagine such a stoic man making those sounds and your chest filled with pride knowing that you were responsible for leaving him like that.

He kept one hand firmly on the sheets and the other found a home on the back of your neck. His eyes were glued to yours, his cock was so hard and red and wet pulsing in your hand. You didn't stop or reduce the stimulation, remembering perfectly what he had explained to you. You wanted to see him finish.

"Oh, fuck sweetheart... I'm so close... just do it faster and don't stop." His baritone voice was even sexier when covered in lust like that.

"I won't stop" You promised moving your hands faster and harder and finally getting what you wanted. Seeing the magic happening before your eyes.

He moaned loudly, his jaw became rigid, his legs shook and cum began to squirt from the tip of his dick, spilling over your hand, entering between your fingers and making a mess in his stomach.

"Oh shit... oh fuck sweetheart." He muttered through clenched teeth and then pulled you to his lips and kissed you hard.

You kissed until you couldn't breathe and when he broke the kiss he smiled almost shyly.

"Shit, look at this. I made a fucking mess, sweetie."

"You get a dirty mouth when you're horny." You teased and he let out a small laugh.

"Good point. Does it bother you?"

You shook your head "No. Actually, I liked it." You said, observing the puddle of cum on his stomach and then looked at your hand, seeing the sticky, whitish liquid running through your fingers. You could smell it, it wasn't bad, it was just different and suddenly you were struck by a burning curiosity and the next thing you knew you were bringing your hand to your mouth and running your tongue between your fingers. You didn't know the look on your face when you tasted it, but Stephen smiled in disbelief, and you knew he was loving it just like he had loved everything else.

"It's salty and something else. It's not good, but it's not bad either. It's... strange."

"I don't think there's a better word to describe it." He teased moving his fingers and conjuring a damp towel with which he began to gently wipe your hands.

"It's the first time I've seen a woman taste my cum like it was a foreign dessert and I admit it was sexy as hell."

You felt your face getting hot which made his smile widen even more. He used the towel to clean himself and then got rid of it in the same way he conjured it and touched your cheek affectionately. "You're giving me so many firsts." He said contemplatively and then kissed you again. He pulled you on top of him and made you snuggle into his chest. With a flick of his fingers he dressed you and he and you laugh softly.

"I'll never get used to this."

He hummed "Yes you will because I will do this all the time and I will be by your side all the time.”

"Promise?"

He kissed the top of your head and held you in his arms.

"Promise."

You were silent for a minute listening to nothing but each other's breathing. It was you who broke the silence.

"Don't you think this is all very silly for you? I mean, we're together and we haven't even had sex yet and you're an experienced man..."

"There's only so many times you can say that to me without making me feel old." He warned making you laugh softly.

"I like my men older." You teased.

"Man. Your man you mean."

You smirked "Yes, sir."

Stephen sighed and you closed your eyes, reveling in the feeling of his hand rubbing your arm.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm loving every minute we spend together, sweetheart. You're making me live so many new experiences and I love you for that. There's nothing silly about this."

You smiled "Okay."

"There's just one problem, young lady."

You turned to look at him and there was a cute smile on his lips.

“Which is?”

"I want to come here every night from now on."

"I won't object to that."

He smirked and you rolled to the side on the bed and he was quick to pull you close so you were cuddled into his chest.

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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[marumarielle]

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐃𝐑 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 (𝟎𝟎𝟏)

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ regarding this post of mine, I really just made a compilation for funsies. Also. this is not proofread. I'm just rambling here. Most of these details are things I scripted in and I'm excited to experience them tw: none, just messy grammar here and there

my mcu aesthetic

-I actually don't live in the Avenger's Compound/Tower (depending on the era) -Your girlie here lives in the Sanctum Sanctorum -Wong and Dr Strange are my mentors -I can look at the eclipse directly because I can't get blinded by it -Being in Kamar-Taj isn't actually hot, it's pretty breezy to cold depending on the season. But. it also depends on how thick your clothes are. -ALSO, since Kamar-Taj is in Nepal, YOU JUST KNOWWWW I eat a whole lot of Panipuri and Momo (Wong would buy some for me if he's in a good mood) -I made Mordo plus Nightmare the villian instead of Wanda (HIS VILLAIN ARC WAS ROBBED FROM US GRRR) -DR STRANGE FIOEFCWGIUHVJDOIS -Lolol Cloak loves me -I scripted in a whole new school into the MCU because I'm rich (i'm tired of being broke....) -I created my own superhero clothes (Like, actually handmade. No machines or anything.) -I don't go out to fight crime a lot (NYC has a freakton of heroes already, they can do it themselves LMAO) -My room in Kamar-Taj (yes i have a room despite living in the Sanctum) has a window that overlooks the city because yes. -No kidding, the training it takes to be a full fledged sorcerer is like training to be a Navy Seal but with magic because WHAT THE HELL THESE SPELLS ARE DIFFICULT. AND I GOTTA LEARN COMBAT TOO???? -Ofc I gotta be friends with Peter Parker. Oh! And Aunt May loves me -And ofc I'm overpowered -Dr Strange as a mentor is pretty nerve wracking at times -He hates people who are late (ahem.... me) -But he is patient. Just strict. -He'd do his rounds around Kamar-Taj to make sure there aren't lingering or loitering students -Someone give this man a break, he's out there in the multiverse doing the most -Idk where tf this guy places his bluetooth or if it's magic because wherever you are in the Sanctum you could hear his playlist (it can go to those 80s rock to classical music. But, I'm trying to get him to like Laufey---)

Dear God, I did all of this in one sitting.... BUT I WANNA DO IT AGAINN!

[lykaonimagines]

Two Of You - Stephen Strange x Reader

Paring: Stephen Strange x F!Reader

Word Count: 1,432

Description: After months of living in the Sanctum, when America thinks Stephen and Y/N are going to ask her to leave, she starts doing everything she can think of to convince them to let her stay.

Request: "Stephen and the reader are married and want to try for a baby and they ask America first."

Requested by: Anon

Other Things: Mild angst but it gets family fluffy/happy.

Warnings: Some swearing. 

Masterlist

The first eight months in this universe had been some of the best in America’s life. Finally for once she felt like she belonged somewhere. That she had a home, that she was loved, and she wasn’t a danger to anyone.

She’d been going to school in New York, finally getting a chance to meet other kids her age and make friends she didn’t have to worry about suddenly being ripped away from one day. She lived at the Sanctum Sanctorum with Stephen and Y/N who had practically become her adoptive parents, and she studied the mystic arts at Kamar-Taj on weekends.

Everything for once felt… stable. And comfortable.

Sunday family movie nights, Saturday family breakfast, Y/N packed her a lunch each day with encouraging notes, the two of them stopping by her room each night to wish her a good night.

She couldn’t have imagined anything better.

That is until she started noticing Y/N and Stephen whispering more. While they were usually quick to invite her into their conversations, suddenly it seemed every time she entered the room they’d go quiet.

While their overall behavior toward her hadn’t really changed much, and they still followed their typical schedules, this small change was setting her on edge.

What couldn’t they talk about around her? That had to be discussed so often?

The only thing that could come to mind was that it was about her. The most reasonable answer seemed to be she’d done something wrong or they’d grown tired of her. Both possibilities made her heart ache.

So she started trying to help out more, and in her newfound panic, it all seemed to go wrong. First she burned the dinner she tried to make for them. Then accidentally turned Stephen’s socks pink in the wash when she did their laundry.

She came to the conclusion that those kind of chores didn’t seem to be working for her… but maybe some of the more magical ones could.

She’d watched Stephen perform the seals for the doorways loads of times, it didn’t seem like it could be that hard. He complained about having to do it all the time. Maybe if she could prove she could handle that, they’d let her stay.

At least that was the plan, until the spell went wrong. Of course on the door that had currently been set to some oceanic scene. As the spell went haywire, water poured through the doorway quickly starting to flood the hallway.

Trudging through the water, she breaks into a sprint as she reaches dry floor and screams Stephen’s name at the top of her lungs, frantically looking into each room.

Within seconds he appears, gripping her shoulders as he tried to get an actual answer from her. By the time she managed to gasp out the issue and they made it back across the Sanctum, the water had already started taking over the foyer.

He’d made short work of the seal and removing the bulk of the water, but the fancy thousand year rugs squished under their feet and there was apparent signs of water damage on the wood flooring and walls.

“I- let me help!” She insisted, reaching to grab a wet relic and accidentally dropping it in the process, the piece shattering as it hit the floor.

“No!” He shouts but sighs and rubs his temples. “I’m sorry. Just. Please go help Y/N with dinner or do your homework. I’ll handle this myself.”

“I-I’m sorry Stephen, I just-”

“America not right now please, I have a lot to do to fix this,” he grumbles as he turns back around to inspect the damage.

Turning away dejectedly, she heads back up to her bedroom to throw herself onto her bed and buries her face in her pillow.

-

“When do you think we should talk to her about it?” America freezes just outside the dining room as Stephen’s voice reaches her ears.

The tears she’d been holding back over the week since the doorway incident threaten to spill as she swallows hard. This was it. They were finally getting rid of her.

“I don’t know, I’m not sure what the best time to say that kind of thing even is,” Y/N responds.

Clenching her fists tightly and tightening her jaw, America stomps into the room with tears in her eyes, “You can just say it to me, I already know.”

“America?” Stephen asks surprised. “You know?”

“Hun what’s wrong?” Y/N immediately says as she notices the tears in the teen’s eyes. A look of confusion on her face as America takes a stop away from her as she steps forward. “What’s going on?”

“I already know!” she repeats, the tears trailing down her cheeks. “You guys want me to leave, you don’t want me here anymore.”

“Wait what?” Stephen’s brow furrows as he looks between Y/N and America. “Who said that?”

“No one yet, but I know it’s coming,” she answers, her gaze drifting to the floor. “And I- I can’t blame you. I was trying to help out more so you’d want me to stay and all I did is cause more problems for you.”

Y/N’s arms wrap around her and pull her into a tight hug suddenly, “America, I don’t know where you got that from but that’s not true.”

“B-but you two keep whispering about things and then stopping when I come in the room, and I keep making everything worse,” she hiccups, her tears spilling against Y/N.

“Kid you’re not going anywhere,” Stephen adds softly, approaching the pair and gently ruffling her hair. “We want you here, and anyways as far as the state of New York is concerned, legally we’re your parents. So you can’t get rid of us that easily.”

“You’re not mad about the seals? Or laundry, or dinner?”

“Those are just things,” he shrugs and wraps an arm around each of them. “Floors can be fixed, we can make more food, and I can get more socks. I was more upset you tried a spell you’ve never done alone. We were lucky it was just water damage. It could have been lava, toxic gas, any kind of beast. I don’t want anything happening to you.”

Y/N’s hand rubs slow circles on her back as the tears subside and she snuggles into the both of them with deep breaths. “What did you want to talk about then?

Stephen glances down at his wife and they both nod in agreement.

“Well Stephen and I have been thinking… we really like being a family. All the things we do together, being your parents. And we got to thinking about maybe wanting to be someone else’s parents too,” Y/N explains softly, America pulling back to look at her questioningly.

“Who’s parents?”

“We were thinking about trying to have a baby,” Stephen continues, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “But we wanted to know how you felt about that first.”

“Wait, you wanted to ask how I feel about you guys having a baby?”

“Yes, you’re our first priority and if you’d rather we not, we don’t want to do anything that’s going to make you uncomfortable.”

“But if you want a baby why would you let me say no, won’t that make you happy?”

“We are happy,” Stephen states simply. “We’re both really happy with the three of us, and will be if it stays that way.”

“We just liked the idea of having two of you,” Y/N smiles as America’s eyes widen.

The teen stays quiet for a moment, looking between the two as a wide smile grows on her face, “I’m gonna be a big sister!”

“Well I’m not pregnant yet!” Y/N laughs and leans against Stephen’s side.

“I want a sister!” America continues, pacing back and forth in front of them in thought. “No, a brother! And he needs a cool name, he’s going to be magical as heck! I’m gonna have a sibling!”

Before the two of them can say another word, America races into the kitchen excitedly, to inform a visiting Wong of the good news.

“Did she just basically tell Wong I’m pregnant?” Y/N sighs and shakes her head with a small smile on her face.

“I believe she did,” he chuckles and presses a kiss to her temple. “And you know how we can fix that?”

“How so?”

He lowers his mouth to her ear, playfully nipping at it as he digs his fingers into her hips, “By making it true.”

----

Stephen Taglist (Main Stephen Edition): @stephenstrangeaddictions​ @ironstrange1991​ @gaitwae​ @geeky-politics-46​ @elicheel​ @frostandflamesfanfic​ @tokoyamisstuff​ @singhfae​ @jotaros-bara-tiddies​ @kon-pan-16​ @stanny-uwu​ @ohchoices​ @sparky22122 @typical-bistander​ @hunterofshadows04​ @evelynrosestuff​ @asgardianprincess1050​ @pop-rocks-and-skittles​ @namethathasnotbeentaken​ @peachywoong​  @valeriegreyy​ @floralover1​ @cumberbitch​ @lightmeuplivly​ @lucimorningst4r​ @bluebear142077​ @strangeobsessed​  @bymoonlightfics​ @strangeions​ @sherlux​ @qhbr2013​ @lovingly-unlovingme @thelaststraw3​ @Benedictcumberbitch @vereon​  @veryladyqueen​ @ultrasilentwhispers​ @cemak @azu21​ @clockblobber​ @ben-er-ino​ @alaina-b​ @guyfieriii @classickook​ @mochuchi​ @rbymoon​ @wanderingfairy73​ @secretsthathauntus​ @elisa20beth​ @gwephen​

There’s a link to a Google form to fill out if you’d like to be tagged, on my pinned Channel Navigation post and on my Masterlist! Makes sure I don’t miss your comment, and lets you opt out of certain things if you’d like :)

If I’ve tagged you in something you didn’t want to be tagged in (certain variant, a warning you aren’t comfortable with, etc) just message me and I’ll make a note on my sheet to make sure you aren’t tagged in anything like that again.

[husbandhoshi]

Congrats on 3k!! You deserve it sooo much💌

If you have the time (and only if you have the time!) I would like to request a sort of a short bullet point fic. Or more so just your thoughts on the following: moving in with seventeen. Who is the one that labels every box? Who will live out of moving boxes for the next year. And yeah, just overall the vibes of new beginnings and promises😶‍🌫️

Pls only do write something if any of this inspires anything, if not pls don't feel burdened to write anyway!

I love your writing, so once again: congrats on the succes💗

seungcheol thinks it's one huge adventure. yes, he will be the person lifting the stupidly heavy boxes at the store. yes, he will make it a competition to build furniture as fast as possible (and race to take it all apart when you discover the desk legs are all different lengths because someone thought he could figure it out without the manual). even among the graveyard of boxes and bubble wrap and those huge styrofoam slabs he keeps chasing you with, seungcheol is happiest to lay with you on your bare, naked mattress (because he forgot to order sheets). he's planning what pictures of the two of you he wants to put on the walls. this is the first time he's owned a welcome mat and he's not even mad about it. it's all yours, together, and there's no bigger adventure than that.

his walk-in closet. bowls the perfect size for a portion of ramen, plus an egg. the lego taj mahal with two pieces missing that he insists will turn up sometime. these are some of the things jeonghan's not sure he can bring to your new apartment. it's not that he doesn't want to move in with you--he just doesn't know if he can. hell, you kissed him for the first time on the tiny futon in his living room, and he just learned it's too small for your new place. it's not until he watches you, later that day, play jenga with the toiletries on his bathroom counter because there's never been enough space for the two of you, that he realizes maybe it isn't such a bad thing to try something new. he imagines leaning you against a new sink, with that carrara marble you've been talking about, and he might even say he's looking forward to it.

you don't think there's a day you haven't seen joshua on zillow. look at my pinterest board, he'd say, and you wouldn't have it in you to ask how the hell you're affording that couch or if you really need a salt lamp that badly. you've lost count of the times your thursday nights consisted of a: your favorite chinese takeout and b: watching celebrity architectural digest videos. but joshua can't help it--to him, there's really nothing that would make him happier than waking up next to you in a bed you picked together. now if it was a midcentury modern canopy bed? even better. he can't wait to use his fancy little espresso machine to make your morning latte and grab your coat from the rack you got from that shop in LA before he kisses you before you head off to work. but they're all just things (pretty, shiny ones, albeit)--more ways he can show you the love you deserve.

junhui loves a good open house. early on in your relationship, you would dress to the nines before pretending to shop for a mansion you could never afford. junhui would comment on the door handles and the crown molding like he was a property brother, and then you'd finish the night off making out in the mcdonald's drive-thru. things are a little different now that you actually can afford a home. what if you end up not liking it? will you get tired of the wallpaper? will the closet be big enough? but surprisingly, none of this seems to matter when you walk into the house. (what's on your mind? you ask him. n-nothing, he says.) but he's really thinking about feeding you in that kitchen and spending the morning looking out those bay windows. how beautiful you'll look greeting him from that front door. needless to say, he's sold.

you find soonyoung hiding in the kitchen at your housewarming party. just an hour earlier, he was dumping cans of sparkling water in the jungle juice to make it more "adult" (as if it would erase the fact that an entire bottle of everclear had already disappeared into the mix). the hour before that, he was cleaning like a madman despite there not being much to clean yet. he held the duster the wrong way and you think he got more windex on the ceiling than on the windows. darling, what's wrong? you ask. his little, drunken hands wrap around yours so he can bring them to his cheeks. i just realized this is all ours. like, all of it, he wails, teary, and you realize he is far too many drinks down. it's only after you've sent him to bed with a water and a kiss that you really think about what he said. the hardwood floors, the duvet, the misshapen tiger plushie on the couch, him--all ours.

wonwoo is not an easy person to live with. the first three things he unpacked were, in order, his table, his first monitor, then his second monitor. then he ruined your perfectly curated aesthetic with his neon red keyboard and a gaming chair that would make any interior designer cry. the final straw is when wonwoo manages to kill the one and only houseplant you have, the single thing holding your home decor together. but he's trying, he really is. he's bought a silly little throw blanket for your couch (aren't the tassels fun? he says, wiggling the fabric between his hands). his ugly lamp has been replaced by a strange glowing cat light and there's a sticker on his computer tower. he buys a succulent and you have a little naming ceremony in your kitchen. and it lives, against all odds!

jihoon doesn't know the difference between a chaise and a sectional. cherry and mahogany look the same to him. and god forbid you ask him to choose between terrazzo and subway tile because he really thinks both of them look good and, no, he's not just saying that to make your life harder. jihoon isn't good at the hgtv stuff, but he's happy to move all the boxes. it's only when he's unpacking said boxes that he finally gets it. (the vase that came with the first bouquet of flowers he bought you. the record player you got him for your first anniversary, now fingerprinted, well-loved. matching valentine's day teddy bears, worn and baby pink.) you're standing on a stool stacked on top of another stool trying to hang a poster, and this is what home looks like.

seokmin wants to live in the ikea showrooms. you can't blame him--sometimes, when there's nothing better to do, you'll spend your afternoon in a bedroom that's not yours. seokmin will try on the lumpy blazer from the closet, and you'll beckon him to your sprawling king size bed, the one sat next to the painted on windows and floating shelves. honey, come to dinner, you'd say. he'll peek over your shoulder, arms wrapped around your middle, and you open the lid to a big, steaming pot of nothing. micke or lagkapten? you ask, completely unseriously. but he's thinking about it, really thinking about it. in his mind, he's building a home together, silly furniture piece by piece, counting down to the days when you really can agonize over plants and how many drawers you want in a desk.

when you got the keys to your new place, mingyu insisted you eat jajangmyeon to commemorate move-in day. unfortunately, he failed to account for the series of delays that led to you having absolutely no furniture to move in on said move-in day. but mingyu is nothing if not a man with a plan, so he runs to the store and buys the cheapest assortment of kitchen tools and ingredients for the world's most unlikely dinner. we really don't have to do this, you laugh, the backs of your legs cold on the kitchen counter. but i want to, he insists, holding out a spoon for you to taste. we have to christen the apartment. you eventually do christen it the right way (involving: lots of tongue, even more laughter), but you might prefer, just a tiny bit, the night you sat on the empty kitchen floor and fed mingyu out of a pan.

minghao has rearranged the living room four times now. every time you walk in, it feels like you've entered someone else's house. it doesn't look right, he says, hands on his hips like his life depended on it. you don't know how to tell him they all look right, every single version. in the first version, all cardboard furniture and plastic wrap, you gave up on deciphering the wifi setup and built a fort instead. the second involved an ottoman in the walkway, which you almost immediately stubbed your toe on (and laughed so hard you cried). in the third, the couch faced away from the adjoining room, and you accidentally spooked minghao so badly he almost broke his knitting needles. but it's all perfect, every iteration, because you're doing it together--a hypothesis he's more willing to believe when you shut him up with a kiss.

don't look now, but seungkwan is buying another doodad at your local sunday swap meet. it's a small painted figurine of a bear in a nightcap, which he simply points to and says that's me. you don't have it in you to mention the fact that you're currently unpacking his seemingly never-ending assortment of doodads and you couldn't possibly know where one more would go. it's only when you're getting ready for bed that you catch the little bear in the glow of the alarm clock light. there's already a turtle with a hat in the medicine cabinet (jeju, last summer). on top of the fridge, a woodcarving that says EAT. (tj maxx, 2 years ago. it still makes you laugh). even though you just moved, all these little seungkwan-isms make home a little more home.

you wouldn't call vernon a planner. his version of housewarming is watching you play the sims. but real life doesn't have nearly as much poolside drama or five story houses--just packing peanuts and 50 page appliance manuals. aren't boxes just drawers? vernon asked you one day. no, but that's how it always starts. two weeks after move-in, vernon cooks you breakfast with a pan procured from a cardboard box. by three weeks, you know the exact box everything is in. (you still haven't been able to find vernon's avril lavigne let go album, though.) it's only when you're eating dinner on top of the box that your dining table is in when you say, vernon, baby, i think we need to actually move in. he takes one look at you, who's wearing mismatched socks and his boxers because your shorts are underneath the tv box, and his smile nearly splits his cheeks. yeah, i think so too.

if you had asked chan what his dream house looked like, he would say it had a wraparound porch, a white picket fence, and a pool. your new apartment has none of those things. the length of your bedroom is a little more than one and a half times the length of his body and he's not even that tall. if he looks out the window he can see right into his neighbor's apartment (three cats and no bitches. almost like he's living next to wonwoo). and his feet stick out of the tub. but he's learning how to live in small spaces. he likes the squeeze of your bathroom, how you have to sit on the counter if you want to both brush your teeth together. he likes the bump of your elbows when you wash the dishes together. most of all, he likes falling asleep with you slotted to his side--even in your tiny bed, he wouldn't mind having you a little closer.

[octuscle]

What's up bro? After that lunar landing, India seems like the place to be! Problem is, I don't think the suitcase I brought will be enough for me to last seeing everything from the Taj Mahal to the golden temple. Can I borrow one of the DEL suitcases?

There is actually another suitcase. A fairly new aluminum suitcase from RIMOWA. Looks very expensive. And doesn't necessarily match your dusty and sweaty tourist outfit…. But since no one else has contacted me: Have fun with it!

Delhi… A really huge city. But also really challenging for a tourist who doesn't speak Hindi. But slowly you get used to the strange English they speak here. And somehow you finally find the Airbnb in the old city, a stone's throw from the Red Fort. It smells of sweat, urine and exotic spices in the stairwell. The stairs are steep and you are pretty tired. Heaving your suitcases up is really exhausting. But you have made it. You'll see what's in the big new suitcase tomorrow. You just want to sleep. It looks like the bed in the room hasn't even been made yet. You don't care about that now. Just sleep…

When you wake up the next morning, your old suitcase is gone. But also your old pajamas are gone. You lie naked in bed. And something is different… Your morning wood is hard as steel. Hehehehe, that's not bad… But it's also darker somehow. A shade like a coffee with a shot of milk. Coffee! Yes, you need it now. You get out of the silk-sheeted bed and your boner leads you like a divining rod to the coffee maker in the alcove between your dressing room and the master bath. After the first coffee, quickly take a shower and then get dressed.

And then a second coffee. Your driver will be here soon. Good thing your suitcase is already packed next to you.

You don't like Noida. But many of your friends live there because they have located their startup companies there and it is easier to find capable software developers. But that's not your world either. Your family made their money generations ago in real estate and in the textile industry. And you now head the banking and finance division in your family holding company. After all, you have financed some of your friends' startups. And today one of your friends is getting married. In Noida. You'll survive that, too.

The journey was long, as usual. Getting out of Delhi takes time. But at least you were able to make a number of phone calls while your driver navigated the car safely through the traffic chaos. Now you have moved into your suite. In the corridor hectic movements between the rooms. Bridesmaids and other guests scurry from room to room. You hate this hassle. In life, you would never think of getting married. But the bellboy who carried your suitcase upstairs was hot. You call the front desk and ask for someone to help you unpack your luggage and get dressed. The hotel is one of the most preferred locations for weddings in Noida. You are a regular guest here. They know your preferences. And the bellboys love your cock. You can already imagine that now there will be a fight again, who is allowed to blow you and gets the tip for it.

Yes, that was good… Your cock dangles relaxed between your legs. Your clothes fit perfectly. So on to the ballroom. And let's see who is your boring dinner companion this time.

[pinkthick]

A sick vampire

Pairing: Vampire!Doctor Strange x Fem!Reader

Summary: Stephen comes home somehow late for your movie night and at first, you thought that Wong gave him extra chores and you were already thinking of ways to kill the Sorcerer Supreme, but Stephen finally arrived so everything was alright. Or so you thought. He had a little fever.

This is for @indoraptorgirlwind 🥹

The cozy apartament was illuminated by the soft glow of the television, casting dancing shadows across the walls. You have prepared a cozy movie night, complete with popcorn, a fluffy blanket and your favourite movie. The only thing that was missing was your husband.

Stephen promised to be home by 9 PM and it was already 10 PM. You knew he wasn’t on a mission, he just had some lessons today at Kamar-taj with some new students — and if you remembered correctly they were little kids — so you didn’t know why he wasn’t already here with you, on the couch, under your fluffy blanket. If Wong somehow gave him extra chores, you would probably kill him, especially since you told him you had the day off today and you would very much like to spend it with your husband.

Just then the crackling magic startled you and saw a very tired Stephen going through it. Well at least he wasn’t in his robes and he was in something more casual.

He didn’t even greet you. Rude. And he then sat down on the couch with his head in your lap, which alarmed you a little bit because he had a slightly disheveled apperance, which was unusual for him. His eyes were a bit darker than usual, and there was a faint sheen of sweat on his pale forehead.

“Hello to you too.” You said and delivered a little shove on his chest which made a warm smile appear on his face, his lips revealing the faintest hint of fangs as he spoke “Hey there.”

You raised an eyebrow at the vampire-sorcerer and placed a hand on his forehead “You're running a little warm. I didn't think vampires could get sick."

Stephen sighed, leaning into your touch. “I didn’t think that either, but Wong said we could so there’s that.” And you wrapped the cozy blanket around him too. Dork.

You took the remote from the coffee table and you glanced at Stephen quickly, who was positioned comfortably in your lap and with a soft smile, you pressed play, the movie’s opening scenes filling the room.

As the minutes passed, you were engrossed in the plot — however, you couldn’t help but notice that Stephen’s attention seemed to be drifting elsewhere. You felt his breathing grow slightly irregular against your thight, and a small frown creased your brown. Gently brushing your fingers through his salt and pepper hair — or oreo hair — you looked down at him, your concern evident “Stephen?” You whispered, your voice a soothing murmur.

His eyes remained closed, his expression serene, though there was a hint of strain in his features. He took a shallow breath, his response almost a whisper. “What?”

You bit your lip and wanted to push your bastard off your lap but didn’t. “Are you feeling okay?”

A faint smile ghosted across Stephen's lips, though it seemed to take effort. “Fine, marvelous even.” he said with sarcasm, his voice carrying a hint of discomfort.

“You’re a dick.” And your fingers instinctively brushed against his warm forehead. Well, he does have a fever alright.

You shifted carefully beneath him, allowing him to stretch out on the couch. You hit him with a pillow and he finally opened his eyes, which were glowing red. “Use it.” And Stephen scoffed but propped his head up as you traced your finger over his features.

Then you gently stood up and went to the kitchen to make him a compress. You found a towel and dampened it with cold water and you returned to the living room in record time. Stephen was still lying on the couch, his expression a mix of exhaustion and discomfort. With a small smile, you approached your husband and gently placed the compress on his forehead.

He let out a sigh of relief at the cool touch, his eyes fluttering closed. As you wanted to pull a way to go in the kitchen to get him a bag of blood from the refrigerator, you were caught off guard by his grip on your wrist. You looked down at him, only to find him pressing kisses against your skin, one after another.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips “What are you doing?” you asked, bemusement coloring your tone.

He paused, his lips hovering just above your wrist as he looked up at you through half-lidded eyes. "Just showing my appreciation," he murmured, his voice a soft, affectionate rasp.

“Yeah, well. Show your appreciation by getting better.” You replied, your fingers gently carding through his hair. A faint, playful glint lit up Stephen's eyes as he held your gaze. “I can show my appreciation by doing other fun things.”

Rolling your eyes with a mock sigh, you teased, "Please, settle down. I don’t want your germs all over me.”

Stephen let out a soft chuckle, the vulnerability he rarely displayed evident in his features. “Yeah, well—“ and a sneeze interrupted him.

“Bless you.” you replied softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead, just above the compress. But Stephen sneezed again and you pulled back saying “I said I don’t want your germs.” But to your utter surprise, his form shifted and morphed into something so little. In just a matter of seconds, he changed into a small white bat with striking blue eyes. Okay, first of all, what the fuck? Second of all, weren’t bats supposed to be black or something?

Your heart raced a little bit as you started at the tiny creature before you. The bat blinked its luminous blue eyes, fluttering its wings slightly as if testing out its new form. It let out a series of high-pitched chirps, almost as if trying to communicate with you. Your gaze flickered between the bat and the place where Stephen had been lying moments ago. Your mind raced as you pieced together the situation. “Did this ever happen to you before?”

You carefully reached out a hand, offering it near the bat in a gesture of reassurance and Stephen crept closer, nuzzling against your fingers, almost seeking comfort.

Now that the small white bat was perched in your hand, you found yourself strokings Stephen’s fur with gentle fingers, your touch tender and soothing. The bat seemed to respond positively to your gestures, emitting soft chirps and nuzzling against your palm. It was an odd sight, yet you couldn't help but feel a strange mix of wonder and concern.

As you continued to stroke the bat's fur, your fingers ventured closer to its wings. It was clear that Stephen didn’t want your hands near them, but you started to stroke them and then Stephen became agitated. Of course you didn’t stop.

He started to chirp loud, as if he was scolding you. And then, the bat leaned forward and bit your finger, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make a point.

"Oh you little shit." You said, your surprise evident as you instinctively pulled your hand back. You looked down at your husband, a mixture of exasperation and amusement in your expression. "Oh, you're so sleeping on the couch tonight."

The bat seemed to huff in response, flapping its wings once more before settling down on your hand with what appeared to be an air of defiance. Y/N couldn't help but chuckle, your eyes softening as you regarded the transformed Stephen. "Alright, alright," you conceded, your voice gentle now. "I'll try to take this more seriously, I promise."

The bat's blue eyes met yours, and there was a hint of satisfaction in his gaze, as if he had won a small victory in making its point. Y/N carefully set the transformed Stephen down on the couch, gently arranging a blanket beneath him. As you got up to fetch something to help him with his current situation, you couldn't help but smile at the absurdity of it all.

You walked into the kitchen and after a brief search, you found a small bag of blood in the refrigerator, an emergency supply for Stephen's needs. You made it back to the living room quick and Stephen was already back in his human form. His expression etched with a frown that matched his evident annoyance. Y/N blinked for a moment “What’s with your face?" You questioned, your voice full of sarcasm.

He looked up at you, his gaze still tinged with frustration. "I can't believe you treated me like a pet," he muttered, his tone both sullen and playful.

Y/N chuckled softly, approaching him with the bag of blood in your hand. “You’re always my pet—“

“Fuck you.” He flipped you off and you settled down on his lap “I brought you blood.” you said as you offered him the bag. Stephen put his hands on your waist as he tried to kiss you, but you pulled back and he scoffed. No germs today, Satan.

“It’s not AB4 so shove it up your ass” his expression remained sour as he continued and you shoved him again playfully “Then don’t drink it.”

“I’m sick and you’re treating me like this?” He faked an innocent expression and you got off his lap and threw the bag at him. He looked confused at you and you took your blanket from the couch and said “Good night.”

“Y/N? I’m not sleeping on the couch tonight, am I?” Stephen asked as he swiftly rose from the couch when you didn’t respond and he yelled “Darling?”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise as he suddenly sprinted toward you. With a brust of laugther, you turned and began to run up the stairs, the blanket trailing behind you.

But, of course, Stephen being a vampire quickly caught up with you, his supernatural speed allowing him to close the distance effortlessly. He reached out and gently grabbed your wrist, effectively stopping you from ascending any further.

“Hey, come on," he said, a playful glint in his eyes. "I’m very sorry for biting you.”

“Very sorry?” you laughed softly, her heart fluttering at the sight of his infectious smile.

“Very very sorry.” With a playful tug, Stephen pulled you closer, his arms encircling your waist and you said as a matter of fact “I probably caught whatever you have already so let’s go.”

And Stephen didn’t need to be told twice.

“What do you…" you let out a scream as Stephen lifts you up, throwing you over his shoulder, "Stephen Vincent Strange!"

"Yes?" And Stephen snickers as your hands hit his back demanding to be let down. Stephen just smiles as he takes you up to your room.

Part 1/Part 2

Notes: I’m still trying to get out of my writer’s block so this is somehow the best I could do.💀

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[ironstrange1991]

Shared

Pairing: Doctor!Strange, Defender!Strange, Supreme!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: An ordinary night turns into a very hot lovemaking session where the reader is shared between three Stephens.

Word Count: 1,7k

Warnings: Polyamorous relationship dinamics. +18 SMUT: Face sitting, oral sex with male and female receiving, cum on face, unprotected p n v vaginal sex, creampie.

A/N: This one was based on a dream I had a time a go and I gave my best to transform it into something reasonably close to a fic. It's short, but it doesn't have any plot so I think it will be enough. Hope you guys enjoy it and have a nice reading ;)

You were panting. Sweat running down your neck, the drops running down to the valley of your breasts as you continued to accept what was offered to you: A voracious tongue that was tearing you apart with so much passion and a delicious cock for you to play with whether with your hand or mouth. So much pleasure.

The day started normally, even boring, and you wondered how you had ended up there. In fact, this was a recurring question in your mind: how did you always manage to transform the most common and routine nights into moments worthy of the best porn movies scenes? Stephen was the answer. In fact, all three Stephens were.

It was difficult to be around them without you ending up in bed, or like now, on the carpet in the Sanctum living room. Whether it was with one, two or all three at the same time, you were insatiable when it came to making love with them and who could judge you? Stephen Strange looked like he was sculpted by the gods, his body never failed to impress you and combined with that face? Come on, it just wasn't fair! However, you didn't know if the term making love corresponded to what you were doing tonight. It was pure and unholy kink sex.

Tonight, before you could even understand where the usual kisses and teasing were leading, Defender demanded that you sit on his face and let him eat you. It was his idea of ​​relaxation and he had had a rough day at the Kamar Taj that he didn't want to talk about. It was unusual for Defender to demand sex and when he did you simply obeyed.

 He lay down on the carpet and you carefully sat on his face as he instructed, being careful not to release all your weight so as not to suffocate him, but he grabbed your thighs and pulled you down and started eating you like a hungry man. God, the sounds it made were so arousing. Defender was the best in oral, you never got tired of having his face between your legs.

Of course, Stephen and Supreme would also claim a part of you tonight. They were just as desperate to have you as Defender was and you knew they liked sharing you as much as you liked being shared. They liked to watch as well, and you liked to be watched and things worked devilishly well between the four of you.

When your teasing took you and Defender to the floor, Stephen watched for a few minutes, but being the most impatient of the Stephens, he soon got up and came to stand in front of you, he freed the extremely hard cock from its confines and gave you one of his incisive looks.

"Why don't you play with my cock for a bit, sweetheart? I can't stand just watching. Need you to touch me." He confessed.

You responded with a loud moan, your reaction to the delicious suction Defender was providing to your clit. Stephen smiled widely, taking advantage of the moment to put the head of his cock in your mouth. You sucked on it as if it were a lollipop and flicked your tongue in his frenulum, just the way he loved.

"Oh shit, this feels good." He praised.

You wanted Supreme to join you. You wanted to take turns on their cocks and make them cum on your face, but he had other plans. He knew very well how much you liked watching him and he liked showing off. It was the perfect combination. So, he stuck his hand down his pants and pulled his cock out, spat on his own hand and started stroking himself while he watched Defender aeating you and you sucking Stephen's cock. And he made a point of being very loud. He knew very well what it does to you, how much you love his baritone in this particular context.

And there you were, panting, sweating, overstimulated after cumming in Defender's mouth and he kept going, grinding you against his mouth, rubbing his beard on your pussy, making you hump his face to get off one more time while Stephen took control of your mouth, face fucking you and going deep, holding your hair roughly to keep you still while he fucked your throat. The roughness of the act felt like paradise to you.

"Oh fuck, sweetheart. Wanna cum deep in your throat. What do you think?"

You hummed a negative and he chuckled taking his dick out of your mouth to let you speak. He wiped away a tear running down your cheek with his thumb.

"On my face." You asked without any shame.

"Yeah? Are you going to make me mess up that pretty hair?"

You nodded "I don't mind."

Stephen chuckled. "I know. Just want my cum all over your face, uh? Such a dirty girl. Do you like being a dirty girl for daddy?"

Your pussy fluttered at the way he referred to himself and a moan escaped your lips.

Defender groaned beneath you, the vibration making you see stars. You were so close.

Stephen smiled satisfied. "You love it when I call myself daddy, don't you? Use your hands then, and suck on the head. I'm almost there."

You obeyed, enjoying the sweet noises he made. Your eyes however were fixed on Supreme stroking his cock. He was sweaty as well, his breathing was uneven, his chest rising and falling in a rapid rhythm, his cock rigid as a rock, veiny and red and one thing led to another. The delicious friction of your clit on Defender's lips, tongue and beard dragged you to your limit eliciting a loud moan from your lips as you sucked and stroke Stephen's cock bringing him to his limit as well. He replaced your hands with his quickly stroking himself with much more vigor and warned you "I'm going to cum. Stick your tongue out, I want you to get a taste of it."

His load spurted onto your face and tongue and your eyes were fixed on Supreme and watched in fascination as he came almost in sync with Stephen. His cum spurting all over his stomach. Their moans and grunts were almost animalistic and dragged you to your own hot and wet climax. You came in Defender's mouth. Again.

Stephen wiped your face with his own hand. "What a beautiful mess, sweetheart. Gonna take a shower now. They will take care of you for me."

You just hummed in response watching him stepping away and Defender grabbed you moving the two of you in one quick motion placing you underneath him. He was a mess. His face was red and wet with your slick, his hair disheveled and falling from his ponytail, his eyes were darkened with desire. He quickly settled himself between your legs and quickly unbuttoned his pants and entered you with a certain desperation.

"Fuck baby, you feel so good. I love this sweet pussy so much, love to eat you, you taste so fucking good." He cooed thrusting in a slow and steady pace. You wrapped your legs around his hips allowing him to go even deeper.

His cock that had been neglected for so long was pulsing violently inside you and you knew it wasn't meant to last, he just wanted a warm place to empty himself. And that's what he did. He grabbed your chin and pulled you to his lips and gave a few more thrusts and then stopped. You felt him spilling into you and you kissed him back, your tongues dancing together with lust. The taste of Stephen's cum was still in your mouth, now also in Defender's mouth, and it fascinated you to know that he didn't mind.

When he finished, he rolled to the side on the carpet and you supported yourself with your elbow, brushed aside some strands of hair that were on his face and cupped his cheek.

"Better now?" You asked and he closed his eyes leaning on your hand and nodded.

"So much better."

He opened his eyes and smiled affectionately " I love you, baby."

"I love you too."

You sat down feeling your entire body go soft like jelly, but you knew it wasn't over when your eyes met Supreme's.

"Come here." He asked, patting the sofa. You forced yourself to get up and went to him and he helped you to straddle him.

He was hard again, which was no surprise. He hold his hand under your chin and demanded. "Spit."

You obeyed and he brought the saliva to his cock and you were eager to direct it inside you. When you sank down on his cock the intrusion caused a wet noise and you felt Defender's cum running down your thighs. So dirty and so good.

He grabbed your ass cheeks and started moving you on his cock. You placed both hands on his shoulders and let yourself be handled, your head fell back and you closed your eyes.

"Oh my god Stephen, you're fucking me so good. Cock feels so good inside me."

Stephen groaned, pleased with the praise. If there was one thing Supreme loved, it was being praised by you.

"Yeah? Pussy feels amazing too, honey." He moaned and you could feel his dick throbbing inside you, begging for his release.

"Oh shit, I won't last, love. This pussy is magical. Wanna come so badly."

You cupped his cheek leaning forward to kiss his lips. He held your face in his hands kissing you passionately.

You couldn’t cum again that quickly, but you didn’t care. All that mattered at that moment was him, his pleasure, how much he loved you.

"It's okay, Steph, come for me. Love you so much."

He grinned at you and held your waist tightly with both hands and started thrusting up, he gave a couple of hard thrusts and then stopped completely.

"Oh, fucking take it." He groaned between his teeth as he spilled himself inside you.

You caressed his face and brushed away a strand of hair that fell from his forehead.

"I love you, Y/n." He whispered as a secret "I love every minute we spend together. And I like to share you."

"And I love to be shared." You smiled, giving him a small kiss on the lips and getting up. "And I love you too, Stephen, but now I think I need a shower."

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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[infiniteeight8]

I've been thinking this for a while and I've been wondering if you can make mpreg..? If you want to try can you please make Ironstrange days before the baby arrives. Even through all those meetings, teachings in Kamar-Taj, Avengers stuffs, hanging out with friends, they still sometimes couldn't believe they'll have a baby in days. Oh and it's Stephen who's carrying, a tired, moody one.

I’m jumping around in prompt order again because I looked at this one and it started writing itself in my head. 😀

Anyway, mpreg is no problem! In fact, I have an mpreg with Stephen carrying ficlet series already going over here, and this prompt fits into it perfectly! I didn’t manage to get disbelief and tired & moody Stephen into the same ficlet, so disbelief will have to do.

-

Tony hasn’t even finished breakfast when a portal opens into the kitchen and Stephen steps through. He looks unsettled, and he’s got one hand on his swollen belly, and Tony is not panicking, thank you very much. “Everything okay?” Tony asks. “You only left, like, ten minutes ago.”

“Wong sent me home,” Stephen says, easing into a chair. “Apparently I’m too close to my due date; he doesn’t want to risk it.”

Tony’s brow wrinkles. “But you’re not due until—” He pauses to count and oh… Okay.

“Next week,” Stephen finishes. He laughs softly and sinks slowly into a chair. “You’d think I’d be counting down the days, but somehow it still seems like something that’s going to happen eventually, not something that could happen almost any day.”

“Any day?” Tony absolutely does not squeak. “I thought you said predicting the,” he waves his hands, “mystical energy current shit and when it would pop your cork was pretty accurate.”

Stephen shoots him a look. “Please never refer to the birth as ‘popping my cork’ ever again. And it is. To within a week. We’ll be inside that range in two days.”

“Right,” Tony says. He takes a slow breath. “Hey, Stephen?”

“Yes?”

“We’re gonna have a baby,” Tony says, the corner of his mouth curling up.

Stephen laughs, leaning back in his chair, both hands cradling his belly. “Yeah. We are.”

[comatosebunny09]

moonlight serenade

genre: fluff, modern au warnings: suggestive, female anatomy, sleepy boi kyo music inspo: dreamscape (slowed) - austin farwell new home (slowed) - austin farwell

Imagine being aboard one of those luxury trains. The ones with fancy sleeper cars decked out like the Taj Mahal, traveling from London to Venice to regroup for another mission.

You’re cozy on the bed, the soothing vibrations of the train gliding along its tracks, lulling you into tranquility.

The pale moon shines through your window, competing with the blue light of your phone dancing over your features as you passively review your next assignment.

This one will be alone, much to your dismay. But you’ll cross that bridge when you get to it.

In the meantime, the door slides shut behind you, followed by the quiet click of the lock. You don’t bother turning around as the train car’s pressure shifts, along with a familiar woodsy scent infiltrating your senses.

Leisurely footsteps round the bed. The mattress dips beneath the weight of the room’s new inhabitant. The comforter lifts, allowing another tired body to slink beneath it.

You don’t bat an eye as sinewy arms wind around your shoulders, hauling you back into the homely warmth of a lean body. Nor do you flinch when damp strands tickle your neck whilst he burrows his chin into the junction of your shoulder. You do make yourself more comfortable, nestling your bum into his pelvis, his legs tangled with yours. You chuckle gruffly, branding his forearm with a kiss.

His response is a throaty groan, scratchy like sandpaper. You can taste the exhaustion in his tone. Feel it in how he melts against you, pressing his lips to your shoulder as if he intends to siphon all the heat from your body.

“I take it your shower went well,” you say whilst a ghostly smile teases your features. Kyojuro huffs, too weary to conjure up something coherent.

With your phone tucked beneath your pillow, you reach back to tangle your fingers in his hair, nails grazing his scalp, eliciting appreciative murmurs from him. His hold on you tightens as if he’s afraid you’ll drift away. He nuzzles further against your nape, his lips imparting on a slothful journey down to your shoulder blade.

You watch the scenery skate by with shuttered lashes and pursed lips. Ghostly silhouettes of trees and the occasional railway light flickering in and out of focus. It’s beautiful, much like the man settled behind you.

A dexterous hand makes its way down to the swell of your hips, kneading and burning through your night shorts. Fingers gangly like spider limbs search for the hem of your shirt to draw it skyward. They creep beneath the thin cloth on an unhurried excursion to your rib cage. Artful as they brush the skin just shy of your right breast.

You whimper against the tickling sensation, idly notching your hips against your lover’s, evoking a satisfied purr from him. He nibbles on your neck, content with teasing you like this until you’re a giggling mess. Tiptoeing below your bosom, fingertips gliding between the valley of your breasts and across your collarbones.

Just when you think he will finally reward you for your patience, his hand retreats from beneath your shirt, alongside the hot suction of his mouth from your shoulder. He instead snakes his arms around your middle, pulling you impossibly closer. He whispers, his forehead pressed between your shoulder blades, “Too tired. Promise to make it up to you later, my love.”

Though your body whirrs in protest, you concede, relaxing in his embrace. You smile the smallest of smiles, allowing the gentle rumble of the train to tow you both under.

[couldntbedamned]

Pairing: Stephen Strange/Reader

Warnings/AO3 Tags: Domestic Fluff, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Hurt/Comfort, Chronic Illness, Reader has a chronic illness, Doctor Stephen, Caretaking, Kamar-Taj (Marvel), Probable Misuse of the Mirror Dimension, Don’t Try This At Home, There are probably Medical Inaccuracies, But it’s about the fluff and comfort, Medicine, Healthy Relationships

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: You’re sick and thanks to a weakened immune system, having a hard time resting and fighting it off. It’s absolutely miserable but lucky for you, Stephen is more than willing to step into the role of caretaker and help you feel better.

Author’s Note: I’m back with another super self-indulgent fic featuring Stephen and a Chronically Ill Reader.

Because when sick and feeling miserable, why not hope for a strong, caring, also kind-of-an-asshole magic doctor to take care of you?

The knock at your door shouldn’t have surprised you.

Of course, Wong would have mentioned your absence to Stephen. Not just because he was your friend and cared about you, but because you were also one of the sorcerers who’d studied under him at Kamar-Taj, and he felt a lovely sort of protectiveness for you. Plus, Wong played dirty; if you were feeling resistant to his advice, he would send in Stephen who could easily sway the odds in the librarian’s favor. It was underhanded, annoying, and you absolutely respected it.

You tried to stand up so you could answer the door, but your overwrought throat had other ideas. A coughing fit started, one so bad you couldn’t even wince through it as your body tried to cough up whatever crud your weakened immune system was generating in its pitiful fight against the “upper respiratory infection” (re: common cold) the urgent care doctor had diagnosed you with. You couldn’t even call for him to come in, instead hastily grabbing your glass of water and sucking it down in an attempt to soothe the raw ache in your throat. Times like this had you almost wanting to take the risk of your immune system attacking you again if it meant a day and night without painful, hacking coughing spells.

He must have gotten tired of waiting because the sound of a portal opening echoed in your living room.

“You didn’t have to stop by,” you croaked out. “Stephen, I’m so gross right now.”

“You certainly look gross,” he agreed. He knew you well enough to know that any attempts to say you looked beautiful would be met with disdain. You hated platitudes - you heard too many of them all too often. They were well-meaning, yes, but annoying.

So, you weren’t even mad at him for agreeing with you. You’d showered, obviously, but your eyes were watery from the pain and your hair was a mess. You were wearing your oldest pajama pants with a well-used handkerchief stuffed in the pocket and a loose, ratty long-sleeved shirt. You looked - and felt - absolutely disgusting.

“I’m not worried about that,” he said. “Because you sound even worse."

You watched as the Sorcerer Supreme and Master of the Mystic Arts melted away and was replaced with Stephen Strange, MD. It was always a fascinating shift to observe. Your Stephen was a healer before he was anything else.

“How long as this been going on?”

You held up five fingers.

“Five days, okay.” He pulled out a pen light and a tongue depressor. There had to be something up with those pockets of his, there just had to be! “Stick out your tongue and say ‘ah’.”

Rolling your eyes, you did as he asked.

“Oh, that’s no fun at all. It’s all kinds of inflamed.” His fingers were gentle as they felt around your neck. He produced a stethoscope. You needed to learn that pocket-expansion spell.

Without prompting you breathed deeply and let him listen to your lungs. Then you breathed normally as he moved the diaphragm to your chest.

“Your lungs actually sound good.”

He checked your ears. “And your ears are draining properly, thank goodness. Have you been to see anyone?”

You nodded. “Urgent care,” you managed.

“Can you do me a favor and please stop talking if you don’t absolutely have to, Darling?” he asked. “There’s no need to make it worse and I know it hurts to speak right now.” He looked around and seized on a notebook and pen. “Here. Write down what you need to say. Do you have the discharge papers from the doctor on-call?”

You scribbled down Kitchen table, and wondered if this was your sign to seriously look into ASL classes.

He left and returned with the papers, reading and muttering to himself. “Benzonatate capsules… those are fucking useless. And… ‘gargle warm salt water and take ibuprofen for pain and fever as needed.’ Are they incompetent there?” He demanded of no one in particular once he was finished. “Did they even bother to read your medical history? When someone with your condition, on the mediction you take, gets sick, treatment has to be aggressive. Your body can’t fight it off on it’s own, otherwise, and you’ll just get worse.” He shook his head. “Do they want you to end up in the hospital with pneumonia?”

He was preaching to the choir. You’d heard this rant before from your care team, your support group, and others. But coming from him? It warmed your heart every time. He never made you feel helpless or unable to take care of yourself, but he had no problem stepping up to advocate for you.

You held up a finger and wrote out, They are a good clinic. I did my research before I walked in.

He nodded reluctantly. You continued to write.

You know why they’re so reluctant to just prescribe more aggressive treatments on a first visit. It sucks, but it can’t be helped. I can’t afford a DSB label in my records.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but wisely refrained. You two had been over this a few different times and ultimately he understood that the final say was, in fact, yours.

“I know,” he said. “I don’t like it, but I do understand.” He’d worked in a lot of emergency care as a medical student, intern, and resident, as well as in MetroGeneral’s walk-in clinic when he wasn’t in a high enough position to finagle his way out of it. He knew the realities of it as well as anyone.

He studied you, no doubt taking in your watery eyes, unhealthy pallor, and all-around miserable body language. Then you gave a loud, hacking, desperate-to-be-productive cough and he cringed. “May I please treat you?” he asked. “It breaks the three-percent of my heart that isn’t a black, iced-over exuse for an organ to see you like this.”

You nodded with an amused snort that thankfully didn’t devolve into another fit. Please! I can’t take another night without sleep.

“I know,” he soothed. “I’ll help you. Give me about thirty minutes and I’ll be back.”

Where else would I go?

He smirked. “Behave.”

While he was gone you moved the many empty cups (all water you’d sucked down like it was elixir) to the kitchen and started loading the dishwasher. You chucked the icky handkerchief in with the laundry to be washed in the hottest water possible and grabbed a fresh one from your bedroom dresser. It was dainty and feminine but you found yourself missing your father’s all-purpose paisley ones and wished you could pilfer one from his dresser drawer. (You’d even return it. Or, you’d do your best to remember to return it. History was not in your favor in that regard.)

Feeling better about the state of your residence, if not your current health, you sat on your sofa and sipped some water. You kept your breathing calm and level as best you could, not wanting to provoke another painful coughing session. Knowing you’d probably be on your way to feeling better than you felt in close to a week, you finally let your body relax.

Stephen wouldn’t be able to magically fix you, you knew, but he would help you get more comfortable and to a point where you could actually rest and start to recover. Most importantly, however, he always asked for your permission before doing so. That alone meant more to you than you could adequately express.

His instinct was always to heal; it was in the core of his being. But he never pushed or browbeat you into accepting, even when you could tell that he really really wanted to. His respect for your autonomy was one of the greatest gifts he could give you.

He stepped through another portal soon enough and he carried an insulated grocery bag and wore a leather messenger bag with a flat bottom. He set the grocery bag on the kitchen counter and brought the messenger bag with him.

Stephen?

He made a gesture and the Mirror Dimension shattered into being around you.

“Now,” he said with a pleased-at-his-own-cleverness smile. “As we’re in the Mirror Dimension, no can legally prove that I’m essentially committing a felony.”

He withdrew a tinted bottle with the screw cap you preferred. “This is an antibiotic. Take one pill once a day, preferably in the morning after breakfast. Speaking of breakfast, you’ll do well to avoid dairy for a couple of hours before and after taking this.”

Got it.

“And finish the entire bottle,” he added.

You saluted before writing Were these gained by legal means?

Stephen affected a dignified look. "Kamar-Taj is not beholden to Earthly legalities and our residents come from all walks of life. If they feel the need to use skills and knowledge previously learned for the betterment of our home, who am I to judge?"

Only slightly sketchy, then.

“I wouldn’t being you something that was neither safe nor effective, I promise. I would never harm a patient, especially one as precious to me as you.”

I know.

He withdrew a bottle from the bag, this one smaller but heavier. It wore the dosage cap like a little hat.

“The good cough syrup. This, you take right before bed. Once you take it, you need to lay down, because it’s strong.” His expression was serious, as it always was when it came to medicine. “I mean it, Darling. No cooking, no lifting heavy items, and definitely no going out and driving after you take a dose. The bottle is spelled to only administer the prescribed dosage in the provided cup, so there’s no risk of pouring too much or taking it before it’s needed again.”

What’s in it?

“An antihistamine and a very low concentration of codeine. I know you’d rather avoid narcotics and I want to agree, but Sweetheart, you need to be able to sleep right now. Your body can’t sustain this.”

Reluctantly, you nodded. Just because you needed to take it, didn’t mean you had to like it.

He pulled out a larger bottle of liquid with another dosing cup. “This isn’t quite the good stuff but it’s suitable for day use and is non-habit forming.” He set it next to the other bottles. “It’s also spelled to only pour the prescribed dosage.”

You smiled, happy at the compromise.

“And last but certainly not least, what is quite literally an ancient Kamar-Taj remedy: throat lozenges crafted by a team of Masters from herbs and honey harvested from our greenhouses and hives. I asked for their recommendation and they insisted I bring you,” he studied the bag. “Very Extraordinary Berry.”

Your eyes were watery again, but it wasn’t from pain.

Thank you so much.

“I love that you value your independence and I know that you’re used to being the care taker in most cases. But it really is my pleasure to help,” he said. “You know I’m not good with words but you’re always telling me I show you much I love you, so hopefully this counts as one of those times.”

You nodded. It's absolutely one of those times.

Stephen stood and checked his watch - a cheap novelty watch that featured Spider-Man and was better suited for a pre-teen. You’d gotten it for him as cheeky little April Fool’s joke but he swore up and down that he loved it and wore it every day.

“It’s close to nine. Why don’t you have a juice bar, take some of the good stuff, and go to bed? I’ll put the groceries away and take care of everything else.”

Bed - with proper sleep! - sounded wonderful.

Okay.

“I brought strawberry and lemon flavors, since you apparently have the palette of my elderly neighbor Estelle.”

Don’t be a hater just because you’re a wuss when it comes to the nirvana that is lemon flavor.

“And I’ll make you Estelle’s recipe for chicken soup.” He pulled out two notecards. “Exactly the way she made it because I’d rather face Dormammu than her ghost haunting me for messing up her pride and joy.”

Oh that sounds good! The instant stuff just doesn’t cut it.

You enjoyed the frozen juice bar more than you’d enjoyed anything since you’d gotten sick. Then you took your dose of “the good stuff” under Stephen’s watchful - but not patronizing - eye. He pushed some water on you and helped you to bed. He even refilled your humidifier and tucked you in.

“Sleep well, Darling. I’ll be here in the morning, okay?”

You nodded. “Love you,” you mouthed.

“I love you, too.”

He left and shut the door behind him. For the first time in days, you were able to sleep peacefully.

Smut Hub Summer Camp Bingo @sagechanoafterdark: Choose Your Trope: Hurt/Comfort

[theetherealbloom]

NOTRE DAME - CH. 5

Chapter 5: Holy Water Cannot Help You Now

Summary: In the rafters of Clinton Church, a mysterious reader with the power of illusion manipulation silently watches over Matt Murdock, the blind vigilante known as Daredevil. As danger engulfs Hell's Kitchen, their unlikely friendship blossoms into a bond of trust and longing, intertwining their fates in a battle against darkness that tests their resolve. Will their connection illuminate a path to salvation in a city of darkness or lead them deeper into the abyss?

Paring: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Hurt to Comfort, ANGST, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, Religion, Fluff, Anxiety, PSTD, Nightmares, Catholic Guilt, Amnesia, Violence, Blood, Dark Undertones, Eventual SMUT, Shy Reader, Mentions of Abuse, Criminal Activities, Mobsters/Mafia, Character Death, Slowish Burn, Disassociation, 

Word Count: 11.7k

A/N: Time to grab some popcorn folks! This one is full of action and a little bit of angst tehe <3

Song: Way Down We Go by KALEO

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dividers @/saradika-graphics

THE NEXT DAY…

CLINTON CHURCH – MORNING

The worst part about anything that's self-destructive is that it's so intimate. It wraps its tendrils around you, becoming an inseparable part of your being. You grow close to your addictions and illnesses, entwined with them in a twisted dance of survival. Letting go feels like killing a part of yourself that taught you how to endure.

In your journey, you discover countless ways to embrace silence. There's the way you stand amidst the tranquil garden of the chapel, finding solace in its stillness. Then there's the way you position yourself in the vast field across the street, seeking solitude in the distance from others. You learn the art of not answering the phone, withdrawing into your own private realm. Sometimes, you even find comfort lying down on the cool kitchen floor, pretending to disappear when people come knocking. There's the silence of the daytime, when you simply gaze into the void, and the silence of the nighttime when you engage in activities that keep the noise at bay. There's the hushed serenity of the shower, the contemplative silence of the bath, the vast expanse of New York's bustling quiet, and the profound stillness of Kamar-Taj. Even within the confines of a car, you cultivate your cocoon of silence.

But amidst this vast array of silences, there's one that always returns—an all-consuming void that surpasses everything. It infiltrates your very bones, unleashing a deafening wail that reverberates within you. It's a silence that grows larger than life, overpowering your ability to remain quiet. That's how this intricate machinery of existence operates.

You sighed, feeling the tension in the air as you cricked your neck to release some of the stiffness from your restless sleep. Wearily, you entered the pantry area of the church, seeking the familiar comfort of coffee to kickstart your day. As you reached for a mug, Father Lantom's unexpected voice caused you to startle, almost dropping the cup in your hand. Your tired eyes widened as you spun around to face the priest.

"How nice of you to join us," Father Lantom greeted, a touch of amusement in his tone.

Your heart raced, and you tried to regain your composure. "Uh... Good morning?" you stammered, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck.

Matt, seated patiently on one of the folding chairs with his cane resting on the table next to him, offered you a small smile. "Good morning," he said, his voice calm and gentle. "Uh, how was your sleep?"

You shifted your weight uncomfortably, holding onto your empty mug as if it were a lifeline. "Difficult," you admitted, still feeling the lingering fatigue of the previous nights. "How about you?"

"The same," Matt replied, his words hanging in the air.

The awkwardness between you and Matt became palpable, leaving you at a loss for words. The overwhelming desire to please everyone intensified, making it even more challenging to form coherent thoughts or speak in a composed manner around someone you had genuine feelings for. The silence stretched on, filled only by Father Lantom's subtle amusement.

Taking a deep breath, you gathered your courage. "Well, um... I can come back later," you offered, gesturing with your thumb towards the exit, ready to make a hasty retreat. But before you could make your escape, Father Lantom intervened, calling you back.

"My dear, you know this machine better than I do," Father Lantom said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Do you mind helping me out by making our guest a latte?"

The request hung in the air, the tension between you and Matt now intertwined with a touch of awkwardness. You glanced between Father Lantom and Matt, uncertain of how to proceed, but ultimately nodded in response. With a mixture of apprehension and determination, you stepped forward and began prepping the machine as you grabbed the remaining ingredients.

Father Lantom and Matt sat side by side, their voices lowered as they engaged in a hushed conversation. Meanwhile, you focused on the task at hand, keeping yourself occupied with the intricacies of the latte machine. The hissing sound of steam and the clinking of cups filled the air as you worked to create their beverages.

After a couple of minutes, you successfully prepared two cups of steaming lattes. Carrying them carefully, you approached the table where Father Lantom and Matt sat, their conversation momentarily pausing as they turned their attention to you. Wanting to ensure Matt's comfort, you announced yourself, breaking the silence.

"Uh, here you go," you said, holding out one of the cups. "Do you want some sugar?"

Matt declined politely, his voice steady. "No, thank you."

You nodded in acknowledgment and turned your attention to Father Lantom, offering him the second cup with a slight smile. "Alright, uh, here you go, Father Lantom."

The priest's eyes crinkled with appreciation as he accepted the cup from you. "Thank you, my dear."

Feeling a surge of awkwardness, you cleared your throat, eager to make a swift exit. "I'll quickly pour myself a cup and go."

With your cup of coffee in hand, you gathered your belongings hastily, trying to conceal the fluttering of nerves that threatened to betray you. The sound of Father Lantom's chuckle reached your ears, “She’s an angel, that one,” his warm praise lingering in the air. You rolled your eyes playfully at the priest's comment, accustomed to his kind words.

But what caught you off guard was Matt's response, uttered with a sincerity that resonated deeply within you. “She sure is,” his words hung in the air, a gentle affirmation that sent a jolt of surprise and curiosity coursing through your veins. The unexpectedness of his sentiment caused your heart to skip a beat, leaving you momentarily speechless as you continued your retreat from the room.

As you made your way out, the weight of Matt's words settled in your mind, leaving you with a mixture of confusion, anticipation, and a little bit of hope.

When Karen's urgent text summoned you to the office for a meeting with Ben Urich, your stomach twisted with a sense of foreboding. As you prepared to make your way towards the exit, Matt's voice broke through the quietude of the church, calling out your name. You turned to find him approaching, his figure outlined against the backdrop of the towering church doors.

"Hey, Matt. What's wrong?" you asked, concerned etching your features.

Matt chuckled lightly, a warm and inviting sound. "Nothing, really. I was just curious about where you're headed today."

Rubbing your arm nervously, you replied, "Actually, I'm heading to your office. Karen texted me for an emergency meeting with Ben Urich. I was going to go ahead, thinking you were still talking with Father Lantom, but..."

A charming smile graced Matt's face as he interjected, "Mind if we walk together to the office?"

Blinking at him in surprise, you let out a sound of agreement. "Uh, yes, sure. It does make sense since we're going in the same direction..." Your voice trailed off, and you winced at your own awkwardness. "I should probably stop talking now."

Matt chuckled, his voice warm and teasing. "But how will I know if you're still there?"

Realization washed over you, and you quickly apologized, "Wait, oh, shit. I'm so sorry."

A mischievous smirk made its way across Matt's lips. "We're still inside the House of God," he pointed out cheekily, and you couldn't help but smile as laughter bubbled forth. "You are so lucky I can't shove you out the door for being such a tease!"

"I don't think God, Father Lantom, or any of the sisters would approve of you pushing a helpless and defenseless blind man," Matt teased, a playful grin adorning his face. You looked up at him, exasperated yet filled with a sense of warmth. "Come on, Murdock. We've got to get to your office before anyone gets worried."

Gently, you guided Matt's hand and placed it in the crook of your arm. As you fell into step together on the bustling streets of Hell's Kitchen, a fleeting glimpse of Matt's smile captured your heart, and lighthearted energy infused the air around you.

NELSON & MURDOCK ATTORNEY’S AT LAW OFFICE – MORNING

As the familiar voices of Foggy and Ben Urich echoed through the room, you stepped forward, holding the door open for Matt as the two of you entered. Matt's heightened senses allowed him to navigate the space with ease, his cane tapping lightly against the floor.

"That's just a matter of asking the right people the right questions in the right tone of voice," Foggy's voice resonated, filled with confidence. Ben let out a weary sigh. "Yeah, that's how you get yourself hurt."

As you and Matt approached the group, Karen's frustration permeated the air. She introduced the two men, her voice tinged with exasperation. "Ben Urich, Matt Murdock. Attorney at Why the Hell Bother."

Ben extended his hand, expecting a handshake, but quickly adjusted as he met Matt's outstretched hand, giving it a firm shake. "Mr. Murdock." Matt nodded, a polite acknowledgment. "Matt."

Foggy chimed in, offering his perspective. "My partner thinks we should be pursuing this through the legal system." Ben nodded in agreement, his expression serious. "A lot safer that way."

Karen couldn't contain her frustration, throwing her hands up in the air. "Well, why don't we all just crawl under the covers, then?"

Matt's voice held a note of caution as he addressed Karen. "No, Karen..."

Karen's frustration persisted as she voiced her convictions. "Well, I'm sorry, but if Fisk is really behind everything that has happened, then we need to do something."

The tension in the room mounted, each person grappling with their perspectives and the weight of the truth they sought. Ben nods, “If we were the only ones after him, I'd tend to agree. Friend of yours came to see me the other night… the man in the mask.”

As the conversation unfolded, your attention shifted between the speakers, observing their gestures and expressions. Matt's uneasiness was palpable as he walked over to his office, placing his cane by the door. You could sense his apprehension surrounding the topic at hand.

Foggy's voice dripped with contempt as he uttered the words, "Terrorist cop-killer." Your eyes shifted towards Matt, noticing his subtle movements, a flicker of discomfort crossing his features.

Ben continued speaking, undeterred by the tension in the air. "Says he was framed."

Foggy interjected with a touch of sarcasm, gesturing to the side of his golden hair. "I could say I'm Captain America, but it doesn't put wings on my head."

Karen's voice quivered with curiosity as she asked, "What did he want?"

Ben handed over a stack of papers and a folder, causing Karen to gasp in astonishment. "Oh, my god!"

"He told me Fisk was behind the bombings and shooting those cops," Ben explained as Karen avidly read through the printed text. "Said he owns half the police... that they helped him take down the Russians."

Karen's confusion seeped through her words. "But I don't understand. If you have all of this, then..."

Matt cut her off, his legal knowledge guiding his response. "Hearsay. Can't print any of it without corroboration, can you?"

Foggy's skepticism lingered as he pointed out, "He could just be throwing smoke. I mean, he just killed Detective Blake."

Ben acknowledged Foggy's concerns, his voice tinged with acknowledgment. "Said Blake's partner Hoffman did it, probably on Fisk's orders. But yeah, it occurred to me."

You nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. Your gaze shifted towards Matt, who wore a pensive expression, a small pout forming on his lips.

With a thoughtful tone, Matt suggested, "You could talk to Hoffman."

Ben shook his head, conveying the difficulty of that task. "Tried. He's in the wind. Or bottom of the river. Either way..." He shrugged, to which Foggy announces to Matt. Realizing his unintended gesture and offering an apology to Matt.

Karen brought up another angle, her voice filled with determination. "Wait, what about the Union Allied money? Is there a way that we can tie it directly to Fisk?"

Ben contemplated the question, his expression thoughtful. "Maybe. According to the Mask, a man named Leland Owlsley runs the books. But since getting roughed up by him, Owlsley's been surrounded by Fisk's security. Can't get anywhere near him. Same goes with James Wesley, the guy you said hired you to defend Healy."

Karen's frustration seeped into her voice. "Look, the Mask came to Ben for help. And I don't care how rich Fisk is, nobody can totally erase their past. I mean, somewhere out there, there has to be a piece of paper, a witness... the truth."

Foggy interjected, posing another possibility. "What about Confederated Global? The suit that hired us to defend Healy was standing right next to Fisk when he gave his big speech."

Ben nodded, confirming the information. "I looked into that. According to FCC filings, Confed Global is where Fisk gets most of his reported income."

Matt wasted no time in continuing the train of thought. "All right, let's play this out. If Fisk is connected to Confed Global, that means he's involved in Westmeyer-Holt Contracting, which..."

You eagerly chimed in, providing a vital piece of information, "Westmeyer-Holt is strong-arming tenants out of their rent-controlled apartments. They were hired by a guy named Armand Tully."

Ben sought clarification. "The slumlord?"

Foggy added a touch of humor to the conversation. "Landman and Zack say he's on vacation on an island that no one can pronounce, where they use coconuts as phones."

Ben hummed, acknowledging the elusive nature of their leads. "Another connection in the wind."

Matt's voice carried determination as he proposed a course of action. "Westmeyer-Holt to Confed to Fisk. We pull that thread, see what it unravels."

Foggy's doubts resurfaced as he questioned the vigilante's intentions. "Still not sure about this mask guy."

You couldn't help but defend the vigilante once again, a shift of tone in your voice. "He didn't hurt Ben, and he didn't hurt Karen. I'll take the Devil of Hell's Kitchen over Fisk any day. Plus, he kicks ass."

Foggy challenged your statement, seeking clarity. "Well, if he's such a badass, why did he come to Ben? Why not just take Fisk down himself?"

Your eyes covertly glanced at Matt, witnessing his expression darken as Ben responded with a somber truth. "Maybe he knows there's some roads you can't come back from."

While Karen and Foggy were outside running errands, you remained in Matt's office, seated across from him. Your fingers danced across the keyboard as you typed on your laptop, contemplating the risks of reaching out to your connections for information on the case.

"But I could..." you started, your voice trailing off as Matt interjected with a firm tone.

"No," he replied, his voice carrying a sense of finality. Frustration welled up within you, and you let out an exasperated huff.

"I can ask around without drawing suspicion," you argued, hoping to find a compromise.

His head shook slightly, and his response was resolute. "I can't let you do that."

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Why not?" you challenged, wanting to understand his reasoning.

Matt's expression softened, and he uttered your name with a tenderness that sent a shiver down your spine. "Because the moment Fisk’s men find out you've been asking around about them, they won't react as nicely as I did."

The memory of your first encounter with Matt flashed in your mind, causing a rush of warmth to spread across your cheeks. Father Lantom's introduction, the flutter in your chest and stomach—it was as if a bird desperately yearned to escape its cage. The sweetness and charm radiating from Matt had the power to make you feel like you could vomit flowers in his presence.

You couldn't help but pursed your lips, the playful banter filling the room with a mix of tension and anticipation. Quirking your lip to the side, you folded your arms across your chest, leaning back into your chair as you mustered the courage to respond. "That's... that was different."

Matt's head tilted slightly, his smirk growing more mischievous. "Different how?" he teased, his tone dripping with playful curiosity.

You narrowed your eyes at him, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Are you implying something?" you shot back, your words laced with a mix of feigned innocence and subtle challenge.

Raising an eyebrow, Matt leaned in slightly, his shaky gaze locked onto yours. "Is there something you wanna tell me?" he countered, his voice carrying a hint of seductive playfulness.

The tension between you two continued to build, the air crackling with a mix of electricity and a sweet awkwardness. Your heart fluttered as you fought to maintain your composure, a blush creeping up your cheeks. With a soft chuckle, you averted your gaze, unable to fully meet his intense stare behind his lenses.

"Oh, you know... just... that I... uh..." Your voice trailed off, stumbling over your words as your thoughts scattered in the presence of his magnetic charm.

Matt leaned back, his grin widening as he enjoyed your adorable flustered state. "It's okay," he said, his voice warm and reassuring. "You don't have to say anything. I think I get the message."

The room was filled with a mixture of playful tension and gentle affection, the unspoken connection between you and Matt dancing in the air. As the conversation continued, you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and excitement, knowing that despite the slight shyness you possess, there was something undeniably special blossoming between you.

The door slammed shut, the sound reverberating through the room as Foggy and Karen made their way to her desk. Their voices conveyed tension as they engaged in a heated discussion. You swiftly stood up from your chair, a sense of anticipation coursing through you, while Matt, ever observant, positioned himself next to you near the door.

Foggy let out a sigh, his frustration evident in his voice. "No, that's not what I'm saying," he clarified to Karen, hoping to make his point clear.

Karen arched an eyebrow, her gaze fixed on Foggy. "Well, it sure sounds like it," she retorted, challenging his statement. The atmosphere in the room grew more charged with each passing second.

As the conversation unfolded, you couldn't help but feel the need to be closer to Matt. You subtly leaned towards him, seeking comfort and support in his presence, while he reciprocated by drawing nearer to you. There was an unspoken understanding between the two of you, a shared connection that transcended words.

Matt directed his attention to Foggy, his curiosity piqued. "You find something out?" he inquired, his tone laced with genuine interest.

Foggy hesitated for a moment before confessing, "I, um, did a little back-channeling with Marci." He glanced at Karen, sheepishness creeping into his expression.

Karen, ever determined, pressed for more information. "Okay, ew, just... What did you get?"

You turned to Matt, whispering inquisitively, "Who's Marci?"

Matt leaned closer, his voice barely above a whisper, as he shared the knowledge with you. "Foggy's ex-girlfriend from college."

You nodded, absorbing the information, before returning your attention to the conversation unfolding before you.

Foggy continued to explain the dead end they had encountered, sharing the details of Tully's island and the money he had acquired through Confed Global. Karen's hope flickered, suggesting a plan to go after Tully and convince him to turn on Fisk.

However, Foggy's somber shake of the head shattered their optimism. "Yeah, that island he's on? No extradition agreement," he revealed, dashing their hopes of a breakthrough.

Matt's voice resonated with a touch of sorrow as he acknowledged the reality. "It's another dead end," he admitted, the depth of the situation settling upon his shoulders.

Just as the group seemed to hit a roadblock, a knock on the door disrupted the solemn atmosphere. Without hesitation, you instinctively moved to answer it, revealing Ms. Cardenas on the other side. Her warm smile greeted you, and you welcomed her inside the office with a friendly gesture.

Foggy's attempt at speaking Spanish to Ms. Cardenas elicited a snort of laughter from you, unable to contain your amusement. Matt, always quick-witted, interjected, "You just asked her where the library is." His playful remark lightened the mood, momentarily lifting the tension that had filled the room.

Ms. Cardenas's rapid stream of Spanish filled the room, and you quickly translated her words for the others. "They doubled the offer to get the tenants to move out," you relayed, your voice tinged with concern.

Karen's frustration boiled over, and she let out a curse in response to Ms. Cardenas's revelations. "Oh, damn it," she muttered, clearly dismayed by the situation.

Curiosity piqued, Foggy inquired, "What?"

Your shoulders slumped as you delivered the news. "Her neighbors are thinking about taking it," you said, your tone heavy with disappointment.

Matt's nonchalant shrug surprised you. "Maybe they should," he suggested, his voice lacking the urgency and determination that Foggy possessed.

Foggy, however, vehemently disagreed. "No! Tell her to stand firm. We told her we're gonna help her, and that's what we're gonna do," he declared, his resolve unwavering.

Translating Foggy's words to Ms. Cardenas, you assured her that we weren't giving up, conveying the message of unwavering support.

A warm smile spread across Elena's face as she addressed Foggy, her admiration evident. "Such a good boy," she praised, and you couldn't help but smile at the exchange.

Elena then began to explain her plan to you, and you returned her hopeful smile. "She thinks... she can change their minds. Enough of them, maybe, to make a difference," you relayed, capturing the glimmer of hope that Elena held.

"I no take! This my home. We fight, yes?" Ms. Cardenas passionately declared, her determination evident. Foggy, caught up in the moment, enthusiastically responded, "Yes! ¡Sí!"

Ms. Cardenas chuckled with genuine amusement. "He is good man. All of you... good."

As Elena bid her farewell and closed the door behind her, a sense of gravity settled in the room. Matt shook his head disapprovingly at Foggy and voiced his concern, "You shouldn't have done that."

Foggy, undeterred, fired back, "What? Fight for the rights of the little guy, right?"

Matt's gaze held a mixture of worry and frustration as he pointed out, "Fisk wants the tenements. He's not gonna stop until he gets them."

Karen, incredulous, interjected, "Well, so what? We're just supposed to roll over?"

Matt, trying to emphasize the severity of the situation, interjected, "Fisk is public on this. If we tie him up with an injunction, maybe we find something in the deposition that we..."

Cutting Matt off, Foggy's voice brimmed with frustration, "Oh, come on, Foggy. You think we're gonna trip this guy up with a deposition? After everything that's happened, you don't get who we're dealing with?"

Frustration mounting, Karen burst out, "No, we get it! Matt, he's a rich dickhead who thinks he can pay people off to kiss his ass." She forcefully grabbed a nearby newspaper, thrusting it in front of Matt. "Look, he is standing on City Hall with his cronies like he's already won."

Foggy shook his head, recognizing Matt's limitations. He turned to Karen, explaining, "You know he can't see that."

Karen tossed the newspaper back onto the desk, determination blazing in her eyes as she faced Matt. "All right, we can't let him get away with this."

In a soft, resolute voice, Matt acknowledged, "I know."

Foggy, eager for a plan, pressed, "So, what are we gonna do?"

Matt let out a sigh, his gaze focused and determined. He turned back toward his office, retrieving his blazer. "Basic tenet of both law and war, know your enemy."

With a hint of sarcasm, Foggy quipped, "Thank you, Sun Tzu. What does that actually mean?"

Matt walked through the open door of his office, pausing momentarily. "It means we keep digging. Like Karen said, somewhere out there, there's a piece of paper or a witness, or something that'll lead to the truth."

Karen's relief was palpable as she voiced her agreement, "Okay, good."

Matt, now standing by the front door of his office, motioned toward the main entrance. "But, do it quietly. Stay under the radar."

Confusion laced Foggy's voice as he questioned Matt's departure, "Where are you going?"

With a thoughtful expression, Matt shared his plan, "Three people stood with Fisk when he addressed the city. His man from Confed Global, Owlsley, and a woman. The press said he seemed close with her." 

You nearly began hopping up in down as you excitedly knew what he was talking about, “Oh, yeah, uh, Vanessa Marianna. She works at Scene Contempo Gallery.” His head shifted in your direction as he gives a charming smile before leaving the office and said, "Maybe it's time I invested in some art.” 

CLINTON CHURCH – TWILIGHT

After Matt had left the office to go to the Art Gallery, you bid farewell to Foggy and Karen, feeling a sense of duty pulling you back to the church. As you stepped inside, the solemn atmosphere embraced you, accompanied by the faint echo of your footsteps on the worn stone floor.

Engrossed in your tasks, you found yourself vigorously wiping down a section of the pews, the fabric yielding under the pressure of your diligent efforts. The stillness of the church enveloped you, and the absence of visitors allowed you to immerse yourself in the quiet solitude of your work. Dust and dirt surrendered to the touch of your cloth as you moved down the aisle, leaving behind a renewed sense of cleanliness and order.

Father Lantom, seated a few rows closer to the altar, had been silently contemplating the crucifixion scene before him, his gaze fixed on the figure of Jesus suspended above. The flickering candlelight cast gentle shadows upon his face, adding a touch of serenity to his countenance.

After a few minutes of your dedicated cleaning, Father Lantom's voice, soft and inviting, called out your name, drawing your attention. Pausing in your task, you turned to face him, meeting his gaze with curiosity and respect. His polite request for you to join him in a moment of shared contemplation piqued your interest, and you nodded in acquiescence, placing the rag beside you as you settled in the pew beside him.

Father Lantom remained focused on the crucifix, his unwavering gaze fixated on the divine sacrifice it represented. He spoke, his voice carrying a hint of intrigue, as he posed a question that hung in the air, “When is the Devil, not a Devil?”

Caught off guard by the unexpected inquiry, you felt a flutter of uncertainty ripple through your being. Your fingers intertwined, fidgeting with each other as you searched for the right words to articulate your thoughts. Finally, you responded, your voice gentle yet filled with conviction, “When you love them.”

Father Lantom's curiosity sparked further as he delved deeper, seeking to understand the foundation of your statement. His eyes remained fixed on the crucifix, while you found solace in the presence of Jesus, His gaze seemingly meeting yours in silent understanding. With a thoughtful pause, you continued, your gaze shifting upward, “People can be surprising. I’ve learned that there is a lot more to someone than I originally thought, and sometimes there is less, a lot less.”

In the hallowed sanctuary, a gentle warmth accompanied the lingering resonance of your words, blending harmoniously with the sacred stillness that embraced the space. The flickering candlelight cast intricate shadows upon the timeworn walls, painting a tapestry of ephemeral beauty. You leaned in a little closer, your eyes steadfastly fixed upon the crucifix, its figure of suffering and redemption commanding your attention. In a voice hushed with reverence, you posed a question that had long lingered in the depths of your contemplation, "Do you think he's actually listening to everyone's prayers?"

Father Lantom shrugged, his eyes crinkling with a trace of mirth as he softly chuckled, "I think he does. It is my job, after all, to believe He does."

A tender sigh escaped your lips, carrying with it a gentle longing for understanding. "Sometimes, there seems to be a halfway point between where you've been and everywhere else. Before, I used to think it didn't make sense to trust a thing that could destroy you so quickly, to reach out your hand and stroke the deep separateness of a beast, that long gap of silence between you. There is a truth in that smooth indifference, a clean honesty about our otherness that feels not like the moral but the story."

Curiosity twinkled in Father Lantom's eyes as he leaned closer, his presence a comforting anchor in the vastness of your ponderings. "How about now?" he inquired, his voice a gentle invitation to delve deeper into the intricacies of your evolving faith.

With a soft shrug, you offered a glimpse into the complex tapestry of your beliefs. "Part of me still believes in that version, but I guess that's what faith is all about. To fully give yourself to the belief of someone out there who loves you despite the differences and otherness. It's an act of surrendering to the divine, embracing the mysterious dance of trust and vulnerability."

The ethereal light streaming through stained glass windows cast a kaleidoscope of colors upon the aged stone walls, infusing the atmosphere with a touch of divine grace. The crucifix, a poignant symbol of sacrifice, forgiveness, and the boundless capacity for redemption stood as a steadfast reminder of the profound depths of faith.

As Father Lantom turned to face you, a playful twinkle danced in his eyes, accentuating the kindness etched upon his weathered face. With a lighthearted jest, he remarked, "Maybe you missed your calling as a nun. You sure you don’t want to enter the convent?”

Laughter bubbled up within you, a spontaneous eruption of joy that echoed through the sacred space. Your eyes crinkled in mirth as you shook your head, a genuine affection evident in your response, “Oh God, no. Even He knows that.”

The banter shared between you and Father Lantom dissolved the weight of introspection, allowing a moment of levity to permeate the solemnity of the church. In that shared laughter, there existed a profound understanding—a recognition that the paths you traverse are as unique as the souls that tread upon them.

The peaceful silence takes over the small church only then to be soon replaced with the echoing of light tapping on the floor, a sound you recognized to be Matt’s cane as he glides along the edge of the pews before stopping right behind your row. He kneels and signs the sign of the cross while you and Father Lantom glance at him before bringing your gaze back to the cross.

Father Lantom says as Matt sits down behind the two of you and lets his cane rest on the side of the pew, “I like to have a moment... end of the day… sometimes just me and Him. Other times with her by my side as I talk to Him.”

Matt says softly, “Maybe you both could put in a word.”

You defeatedly exhaled, having the sense that his visit to the art gallery didn’t go as planned if he ended up back at the church. You turned and reached for the cloth rag on your side, beginning to stand up and move to the aisle while saying, “Um, I should probably go help Sister Maggie prepare dinner for the kids while you two have a heart-to-heart chat… I’ll see you around Matt.”

CLINTON CHURCH – EVENING

You stood upon the rafters like a solitary sentinel, you embraced the seclusion, the feeling of being an island amidst the bustling sea of New York City. The cool breeze danced upon your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake as you leaned against the outside banister, your gaze fixated upon the sprawling skyline. It was a vista that held both the weight of a lifetime's struggles and the promise of an unwritten future—a blank page upon which you had chosen to inscribe the story of your existence, a story set into motion by a divine hand.

Lost in your reverie, the sudden voice calling your name jolted you from your thoughts, causing you to yelp in surprise. Turning swiftly, your eyes met Matt, who stood by the staircase leading up to the rafters. With a mixture of relief and admonishment, you exclaimed, "Matt! God, you scared me. How did you get up here without making a noise?"

A lopsided smile graced Matt's lips as he replied, "I don't think God appreciates you using his name in vain."

Playfully smacking his arm, you chuckled and retorted, "Well, I hope he appreciates a good scare then." Your gesture seemed to amuse Matt, and you invited him closer, saying, "Come over here and feel the breeze."

Guiding him to the edge of the terrace, you released your hold on his arm, creating a small but perceptible distance between you. Leaning against the railing, you allowed the gentle caress of the breeze to cool your flushed skin, finding solace in the tranquil stillness that enveloped you both.

Amidst the comfortable silence, an unspoken understanding seemed to settle between you. But then, unable to contain your curiosity, you blurted out, "How did you know I was up here?"

Matt nonchalantly shrugged, his senses attuned to the nuances of the world around him. "I had a hunch you would be," he admitted.

Sensing your pointed stare, he relented, "Father Lantom told me."

With a sigh, you returned your gaze to the sprawling cityscape, its shimmering lights and bustling traffic a tapestry of human existence. "I always hid up here when I was younger and didn't want to play with the other kids," you confessed, a hint of nostalgia tinting your words.

Matt, ever the astute observer, connected the dots. "Is that why I never saw you around Saint Agnes when I was a kid?" he inquired, his curiosity piqued.

Offering a half-hearted shrug, you replied, "Yeah. Then I was... I got sent away for school." There was a pause, a flicker of hesitance before you continued, "The school was near the mountains... somewhere in Asia. It was... a difficult part of my life, but I had to go through it for my sake and... anyways. Yeah, education was decent, and the classes were definitely… something else, but overall, I turned out okay."

Matt sensed the unspoken secrets lingering in your words, an untold tale that lay hidden beneath the surface. Respectful of your boundaries, he chose not to pry further, allowing the enigma of your past to deepen his intrigue about the person you had become.

You cleared your throat, the sound echoing softly in the nighttime air as you shifted your focus to the conversation at hand. "So... how did the art gallery visit go?" you inquired, your voice tinged with curiosity and concern.

As Matt's muscles tensed, his jaw clenching, you sensed the weight of his response even before the words left his lips. "It went fine. I, uh... I also met Fisk. He was there," he revealed, his words laden with a mix of apprehension and restrained emotion.

The gravity of his revelation hit you like a sudden jolt, causing your eyes to widen as you whipped your head in his direction. The city lights cast an ethereal glow upon his features, amplifying the intensity of the moment. With a hushed urgency, you whispered, "Holy shit!" However, the realization of using profanity in such a sacred setting washed over you, prompting a quick prayer of repentance and a flicker of guilt. You glanced at Matt, noticing the amused smile that danced upon his lips at your reaction.

Intrigued and concerned, you pressed further, your words filled with both genuine care and a hint of curiosity. "How did that go? Did you punch him?"

Matt's chuckle resonated in the space between you, his amusement evident. "How would I punch him if I can't see him?" he quipped, his voice laced with good-natured humor.

Your arms and hands gestured in an animated fashion as you tried to come up with a solution. "I don't know! Just swing your cane around," you suggested, the genuine concern for his safety apparent in your voice.

Matt, ever the pragmatist, shifted the conversation to a more practical aspect. "You know there were some pretty valuable art pieces in that gallery, sweetheart," he reminded you, his head tilting in your direction. The subtle increase in your heart rate and the way your body responded to the affectionate nickname did not go unnoticed.

Attempting to mask your concern with nonchalance, you replied, "You know what I mean! Just... what happened? Did he say anything suspicious? Was Vanessa at least... I don't know, nice? I need the details, or else I'm gonna keep pestering you for the entire week."

His chuckle, like a melodic reassurance, filled the air. Matt began recounting his encounter with Vanessa and Wilson Fisk, his words painting a mental picture as you leaned in attentively, soaking in every detail. When he concluded, you couldn't help but release a frustrated sigh. "Manipulative bastard," you muttered under your breath, the distaste evident in your tone. Offering a quick, apologetic glance to the heavens, you rested your elbows on the railing, your gaze once again drawn to the sprawling city skyline, contemplating the tangled web of intrigue that surrounded you.

“Do you think God would forgive someone if they did something cruel? Something unforgivable?” Matt's question lingered in the air, heavy with the weight of moral complexity. You took a deep breath, the cool night air filling your lungs as you pondered his words. Your gaze remained fixed on the sprawling cityscape, its lights twinkling like distant stars in the darkened expanse.

"There are a lot of different reasons why people did what they did. Hurt who they hurt," you began, your voice carrying a mixture of contemplation and empathy. "Sometimes, the lines between right and wrong blur, and cruelty manifest from a place of deep pain and brokenness. It's not an excuse, but it offers a glimpse into the intricate tapestry of the Anthropocene."

The city lights shimmered in the distance as you continued, your words measured and thoughtful. "There is a truth in that smooth indifference, a clean honesty about our otherness that feels not like the moral but the story. It still exists, it just escapes differently and evades vision. It colors the rain differently, makes the news boring, and distances my own rage."

You turned to face Matt, your eyes searching his through his lenses for understanding. "God's forgiveness is boundless, encompassing even the darkest corners of our humanity. But forgiveness isn't about erasing consequences or condoning cruelty. It's about acknowledging the potential for growth, redemption, and the capacity to change."

A gentle breeze swept past, rustling your hair and carrying with it a sense of solace. "We can only hope that those who have done unforgivable things find the courage to confront their past, seek repentance, and strive to make amends. God's mercy is vast, but it's up to each individual to embrace it and embark on the path of redemption."

The distant hum of the city served as a backdrop to your contemplative conversation, a reminder of the vastness of human experience and the interconnectedness of all lives.

NELSON & MURDOCK ATTORNEY’S AT LAW, OFFICE – MORNING

After a quick stop at a local bakery, the aroma of freshly baked pastries lingering in the air, you approached the front door of Nelson and Murdock's office. With a gentle knock, you announced your presence before stepping inside, the warmth of the office embracing you.

The three of them, Foggy, Karen, and Matt, were engrossed in a conversation, their heads huddled together in a semi-circle. As you walked closer, Matt tilted his head, honing in on the sound of your voice. His keen senses detect your arrival. Holding something square and framed in his hands, Matt's eyes met yours, and you raised an intrigued eyebrow, your curiosity piqued.

"Yes! We finally got the sign!" Foggy exclaimed, a beaming smile illuminating his face. He eagerly approached you, accepting the paper bag filled with delectable treats. "And thank you, m'lady, for the generous gift of baked goods."

You returned Foggy's infectious enthusiasm with a smile of your own. "You're welcome, kind sir. Just make sure to save some for later."

Turning your attention to Matt, you noticed the "Nelson and Murdock" placard he held in his hands. Your fingertips lightly traced the letters, a gesture of appreciation for the significance of the moment. The emblem of their law firm held a profound meaning, representing the culmination of their shared dreams and aspirations.

"It's a little small, isn't it?" Matt remarked, his voice tinged with a hint of humor.

Foggy chuckled, offering an explanation, "Building regulations, my friend. We work with what we have."

Karen chimed in, her eyes sparkling with determination, “Anyway, so are we. We

are small but awesome.”

“And we're gonna make a difference. I know it doesn't feel like it sometimes… a lot of the time, but we are, with the power of the law.” Foggy said with hope and charisma.

Matt nodded in agreement, his charming smile gracing his lips. "Okay."

Foggy, overcome with gratitude, placed a hand on Matt's shoulder. “You dragged me into this rinky-dink firm, Murdock, and I'll never be able to thank you enough for it.”

Matt's smile widened, and he responded with sincerity, “You're not gonna kiss me.”

Foggy shrugged playfully, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I'm feeling a little somethin'.”

Their brotherly bond evident, Matt sighed in amusement, his voice filled with affection. “Okay, come here.” The two friends embraced, sharing a heartfelt moment before parting with gentle pats on each other's backs.

You watched the exchange with a wide smile, appreciating the camaraderie and unwavering support between them. However, the joyous atmosphere was abruptly shattered by the shrill ring of your phone. Your face contorted in a slight frown as you moved away from the group to answer the call, a sense of unease gripping your heart.

“Hello?” you spoke into the phone, your voice tinged with concern.

On the other end of the line, a voice sought confirmation of your identity, and you responded, “Yes, this is her.”

The news that followed struck you like a bolt of lightning. Your hand instinctively flew to cover your mouth as a choked sob escaped, tears welling up in your eyes. The devastating revelation pierced through your being, overwhelming you with grief.

“Something happened,” you managed to utter, your voice trembling with sorrow. “We need to go to the precinct.” The weight of the tragedy hung heavy in the air, casting a somber shadow over the once celebratory atmosphere of the office.

15TH PRECINCT POLICE STATION, THE MORGUE – AFTERNOON

As the medical examiner carefully lifted the cloth, revealing the lifeless body of Ms. Cardenas, a collective gasp escaped from Karen's lips. Overwhelmed with sorrow, she instinctively turned away, her hand covering her trembling mouth. Your gaze shifted to Foggy, his eyes red and brimming with unshed tears, mirroring the anguish that weighed heavily on your own heart.

With a heavy ache in your voice, you turned to Matt, needing confirmation of the devastating truth. "It's her," you whispered, the words weighted with grief.

Matt's face remained inscrutable, but the thin line that formed on his lips betrayed the simmering anger and righteous rage that coursed through his veins. In a dangerously calm tone, he directed his question to Detective Sergeant Mahoney, his voice barely concealing the seething fury within. "How did it happen?"

Mahoney's voice held a hint of sorrow as he recounted the tragic details. "A neighbor witnessed a familiar junkie fleeing the scene with her purse. It appears she was attacked while searching for her keys."

Karen's sobs echoed through the room, her grief overwhelming her. Matt, concern etched on his face, suggested gently, "Karen, maybe you should wait outside."

But Karen waved off his suggestion, her determination shining through her tears. "No. No, I'm..." Her voice faltered, but she mustered the strength to address Officer Mahoney directly. Her voice trembled as she asked the painful question that lingered in the air. "How did she die?"

Mahoney's expression bore the weight of the tragic truth. Taking a deep breath, he delivered the heartbreaking news. "Multiple stab wounds. The ambulance arrived quickly, but... My mom says all the family she knew about has passed on."

Your eyes shifted between Karen and Foggy, witnessing their faces contort with raw grief as tears streamed down their cheeks. A quick glance at Matt revealed the silent storm of anger that raged within him, his jaw clicking and clenching in the face of such injustice.

Mahoney's gaze shifted to you, recognizing your connection to Ms. Cardenas. His voice carried a mix of sympathy and a request for assistance. "I knew you were helping her out and looking into her tenancy case. I thought you might be able to point us toward the next of kin."

You shook your head slowly, a subtle gesture filled with a profound sense of loss. "No, she didn't have anyone. Just us." The weight of the responsibility settled heavily on your shoulders as you stood united with your friends, the only family Ms. Cardenas had known in her final days.

“We'll see to the arrangements,” Foggy assured Brett, his voice filled with a mix of determination and compassion. The detective nodded in acknowledgment. "It's good of you to take that on. I'll let the ME know."

As Detective Sergeant Mahoney made his exit, Karen sought comfort in Foggy's embrace, their bodies clinging to each other in shared grief. Your gaze shifted to Matt, who stood with his knuckles turned white, his grip tight on his cane. The anger and rage within him seemed palpable, an untamed force straining to break free. It was as if something primal within him bared its teeth and fought against his restraint.

Uncertain of whether you could provide the comfort Matt needed, you took a leap of faith. Moving closer to his side, you extended a hand and gently placed it on top of his, carefully loosening his grip on the cane. As your hands intertwined, you squeezed his hand, conveying a silent message of solidarity and support. With a tender gesture, you rested your head atop his shoulder, seeking solace together in the midst of overwhelming loss.

At first, Matt stiffened, his body tense with emotions he struggled to contain. But then, slowly, he leaned his own head against yours, finding solace in your presence. It was a moment of vulnerability, a shared understanding that words alone could not express. In that simple act of connection, you offered him a lifeline amidst the weight of tragedy and its aftermath.

In the complex tapestry of human existence, it was the casualties who bore the heaviest burden, carrying the weight of grief and pain. And at that moment, as you and Matt found solace in each other's embrace, you became pillars of support, connected in the face of adversity.

JOSIE’S – NIGHT

Despite your initial intention to go back to the church and assist with the arrangements, Foggy and Karen were insistent on you staying and joining them for drinks at Josie's. You attempted to persuade them to spend some time together without you, but Matt's gentle touch on your hand and his whispered plea melted your resistance. How could you refuse when he asked so earnestly for you to be there?

The blaring sirens of a passing cop car pierced through the night, serving as a somber reminder of the harsh realities surrounding you. As you all sat in silence at Josie's, the weight of grief hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the once lively bar.

Josie approached your table, bringing another bottle and sensing the somber mood. Foggy looked up at her with eyes filled with sorrow and gratitude, offering a heartfelt, "Thanks."

Josie patted his shoulder in a comforting gesture. "I'll keep 'em comin', love," she assured him before returning to the bar counter to mix more drinks. You took a sip from your glass, but the bitterness of both the alcohol and the grief seeped into your soul, causing your face to crumple.

Foggy began to recount their initial visit to Landman and Zack when they took on Elena's case, his voice laced with regret. Karen gripped her glass tightly as she chimed in, repeating Marci's mention of a "criminal element" in Elena's building, which drove the workmen away out of fear.

"I thought it was bullshit," Foggy admitted, a tinge of remorse evident in his tone. Matt interjected softly, "Maybe it was."

Foggy's words hung in the air, their weight sinking deep into your collective consciousness. The realization hit Karen, and her mind started to race. She turned to Matt, seeking answers. "Wait, what are you saying?"

Matt sighed, his nerves betraying him as he licked his lips. "Well, I don't know. It just doesn't feel right, does it?"

In the midst of your shared sorrow and the lingering questions surrounding Elena's death, doubt crept in, casting shadows on the truth that seemed too elusive to grasp.

"I'll drink to that," Foggy declared, pouring himself another glass of liquor. Matt's voice dropped low as he contemplated, "You think it was a coincidence? Elena decides to stay and fight, to rally what's left of her neighbors, and this happens."

Karen's question hung in the air, heavy with suspicion. "Do you think Fisk had something to do with this?" she asked, searching for answers. Matt shrugged, his expression a cute mix of uncertainty and doubt. Foggy's gaze shifted upward and across the room to the TV hanging on the wall, his finger pointing with intent. "Speak of the devil," he remarked.

Matt tilted his head in confusion, but before he could inquire further, you leaned closer and whispered, "Fisk is on the TV again."

Matt caught on and raised his voice. "Hey, Josie, could you turn that up?"

Josie obliged, pressing a button on the remote, and the sound of Fisk's voice resonated throughout the bar. Reporters swarmed around Fisk as he responded to their questions. You glanced at Matt, noticing the tension in his jaw as he took a swig of his drink, listening intently to Fisk's words.

A reporter posed a question, "How do you respond to reports that you knew the tenement was unsafe?"

Fisk replied, his voice calculated and measured, "That is accurate. That's why we offered a substantial sum to Ms. Cardenas and her neighbors to help them relocate." He paused briefly before adding, "We should never let good people get swallowed up by this city. I mourn this woman's death. Didn't have to happen. It should've..."

The TV screen turned into a target of your glare as Fisk continued his speech. The taste of bitterness filled your mouth, witnessing the manipulative lies he spewed. "Her passing is a symptom of a larger disease... infecting all of us," Fisk proclaimed, attempting to cast himself as a savior.

Foggy's phone interrupted the scene, and he answered with a somber tone, engaging in a conversation with the funeral home for arrangements. Meanwhile, Fisk carried on with his performance, lamenting the "disease of fear" that plagued the city, emphasizing his desire for unity against external threats.

"We shouldn't let people like that take our city from us. We need to stand together. Let them know that they will fail... because we believe we can make a difference. 'Cause they are cowards! Afraid of stepping out of the shadows. Afraid of standing up for people like Mrs. Cardenas," Fisk concluded before stepping away, his insincere apology hanging in the air.

Reporters persisted, trying to ask more questions, but Fisk's associate, Wesley, shut them down. Your gaze shifted to Matt, and although he tried to conceal it, the waves of his anger and rage were palpable, radiating from him like a furious storm. You knew he needed assistance, even if he didn't realize it himself—the silent support you were prepared to offer.

The muffled voice of a friend transformed into an electrical signal, delivering a message that a great war was approaching. Little did Matt know, you were there, standing by his side, ready to face whatever challenges awaited, providing the help he may not even know he needed.

"Jesus, he almost sounds like he means it," Karen remarked with a heavy dose of sarcasm, catching you off guard. To your surprise, Matt's voice carried a different tone as he responded, "I think he does."

Karen scoffed at the notion, "And he's calling the man in the mask a psycho? I hope they trace what happened to Elena right to his doorstep."

"He'd never expose himself like that. Plus, half the force is probably in his pocket," Matt reasoned. Karen gripped her drink tightly, her frustration evident. "Well, then, let's pray the Mask gets his hands on him. Knocks his goddamn head off." She downed her drink in a single gulp.

Curiosity sparked within Matt, and he turned to Karen. "You religious, Karen?"

Karen shook her head, explaining, "My parents were. That's probably why I'm not. You?"

"Catholic," Matt replied, and you chimed in softly, "Same."

Karen directed her question to both of you, seeking insight. "Does it help? With things like this?" Matt responded honestly, "Not today. I think I've had enough. Tell Foggy I'll see him in the morning."

As Matt prepared to leave, you quickly moved one of the stools obstructing his path, ensuring he wouldn't trip. The corners of Matt's mouth curled upward, appreciating the small gesture that meant more to him than you realized.

Unfolding his cane, Matt turned to depart, but Karen called out to him, stopping him in his tracks. "Hey, Matt." He turned his attention to her, awaiting her words. "Yeah?"

"If there is a God... and if he cares at all about... about any of us... Fisk will get what he deserves. You have to believe that," Karen declared, her words carrying a glimmer of hope. In that moment, you witnessed a shift in Matt's expression, as if he was deciphering her words as a divine sign, a call to action.

Matt paused, then affirmed, "I do," before turning away from you and Karen. The red neon lights of Josie's bar cast an ethereal glow upon his features as he walked away. There would be no grand chorus, no harmonious melody accompanying his departure. But in your fist, your feet, the hollows of your eyelids, you felt the tremors. Vibrating through your skull, your spine, and down into your ribs.

The time for action had come, and the weight of the city's injustices pressed upon your shoulders. With a kind of purpose, you were ready to face the darkness head-on, determined to bring justice to those who believed they were untouchable.

A few hours had passed, and Foggy's consumption of alcohol had taken its toll. He clumsily played with the empty liquor bottle, rolling it around in his hands. Eventually, he mumbled an apology, his speech slurred. Concerned, you exchanged a worried glance with Karen. You gently placed your hand on the bottle, attempting to discourage Foggy's request for another.

Foggy, oblivious to your gesture, called out to Josie, his words slurred, "Hey, can I get another bottle over here?"

Shaking your head vigorously, you interjected, "No, no, never mind, Josie. Hey, hey, Foggy. Foggy, she and I have had enough, and you have had... way, way past that."

"It's a wake, Karen. People drink at wakes. You know why? 'Cause it sucks," Foggy grumbled, frustration lacing his words. You offered him a sympathetic look, understanding the pain he was trying to drown. Karen responded softly, "I know."

Foggy's gaze shifted towards you, his eyes glassy and filled with sorrow. He spoke, his voice trembling, "You two speak Spanish. What's a good toast for the people that should... that should still..."

Your head tilted to the side, your shoulders sinking as you pulled Foggy into a comforting hug. "Hey. Hey, hey, hey," you whispered soothingly.

Foggy's emotions overflowed, tears streaming down his face as he sobbed, "I should have told her to take the money like Matt said."

You and Karen reassured him, your hands rubbing his arms gently. "No, no, no, no, Foggy... it's not your fault, okay?" you comforted him, your voice filled with sincerity.

Foggy brushed back his blonde locks, attempting to gather himself as he sniffled. "The Hell's Kitchen I grew up in was a real shithole. But it had a heart, you know?" You and Karen nodded in agreement, acknowledging his sentiment.

"Me and Matt... we learned the law, how to play by the rules. We were gonna help the people that we grew up with. Give 'em the same shot as the big boys like Fisk. It's all bullshit. It's all just... lies that we tell ourselves to make it through one more day," Foggy lamented, his tone heavy with disillusionment. Karen disagreed passionately, her voice vulnerable, "No, I don't... I don't believe that. I can't."

Foggy looked at both of you, his eyes glossy and filled with sadness. "What are we supposed to do... against somebody that owns everything? Everyone? What can we do to somebody like that?"

You offered him a comforting squeeze, your voice tender as you softly responded, "So this is your life, and you are going to be both moved and confused by it. You are going to experience things that will inspire you and things that you will never quite come to terms with." A sniffle escaped you as you continued, "You are going to laugh until you cry; you're going to ache in ways you never thought possible; you are going to be exhausted by the chaos of it all and ignited by the beauty. You are going to be hurt, and you are going to hurt."

Shaking your head and fighting back tears, you spoke to your two newfound friends with a mix of vulnerability and strength, “I wish I could explain what healing feels like. I wish I could describe how it feels to you—that it's like returning home, that it's like everything soft and delicate you've ever touched in your hands. But because healing is the messiest thing you will ever experience, it will never be artistic or elegant. Healing will never be linear, it will never make sense.”

With a gentle smile shared between the three of you, you concluded, “There isn't going to be a formula. Simply do the process over once more as the sun rises. You'll set out on everyday journeys. You'll move forward by taking steps. You'll retrace your steps.  But you will always be moving, and that is what you need to celebrate.”

PIER 81 WAREHOUSE — MIDNIGHT

After settling the bill and leaving a generous tip for Josie, you bid Karen and Foggy goodnight, watching as they climbed into a taxi. While they chose the convenience of a ride, you opted for a walk home. Despite knowing the dangers of Hell's Kitchen at this hour, you held confidence in your ability to protect yourself.

The fractured moonlight danced upon the rippling waters, casting ethereal reflections that seemed unchanged to your eyes. There was a certain tranquility in strolling along the pier at midnight as if the world's burdens momentarily eased. The weight you had carried for so long, the burdens that had shaped your path, brought you to this very moment. Standing at the water's edge, you faced it head-on, alone yet unyielding. From the edge of the water, you sensed an impending shift, a force approaching. There were no barriers to shield you, no respite of sleep, or anything to separate you from the water's embrace.

The gift within you, the power you possessed, came with its own cost. In this moment of introspection, you pondered the dichotomy of the lamb and the knife, questioning the roles they played in your life.

Suddenly, the night air became filled with echoing shouts and grunts emanating from an abandoned warehouse up ahead. Your senses sharpened, suspicion fueling your narrowed gaze and causing your brows to furrow in deep thought. The power within your fingertips surged, the mystical glamour enveloping you in a shimmering cloak of invisibility. With each step, your form glowed with ethereal light, rendering you unseen as you hastened towards the commotion, your heart pounding in anticipation.

As you approached the scene, you gasped silently at the sight that unfolded before you. A man, engulfed in flames, writhed and convulsed on the ground while Wesley, alongside another guard, stood by Fisk's side. Fisk himself, a commanding presence, seized Matt and hurled him forcefully into a nearby table, effortlessly shattering it in half. A mix of anger and concern coursed through you as you swiftly moved closer to Matt, invisible yet ready to defend him at any cost.

Fisk, unfazed by his display of power, withdrew a handkerchief from his suit's breast pocket and cast a disdainful gaze upon the masked man. "It's disappointing," he uttered with a cold tone.

Determined to intervene, you materialized in front of them, your previously invisible form now resplendent with an otherworldly glow. Your outstretched palms formed a shield of shimmering golden and silver magic, deflecting the bullets fired by Wesley's raised gun. Each round ricocheted harmlessly off the protective sphere, filling the air with a symphony of metal clinks.

Fisk's command halted the gunfire, and as the whisps of magic gradually faded, you lowered your hands, tilting your head to the left and maintaining a steady, composed stance.

Fisk's narrowed eyes locked onto you, a mix of curiosity and animosity in his gaze. He spat out his retort, "A guardian angel coming to save the devil of Hell's Kitchen? How poetic."

You fought to maintain your composure, lifting your chin defiantly as your voice, disguised and altered, resonated with authority. "I will give you one warning, one act of mercy. Leave."

Fisk's expression hardened, his voice dripping with disdain as he responded, "I take no pleasure in this… violence. It is a necessity to cleanse this city of vermin like him."

Undeterred, you scoffed, allowing your defiance to shine through. "I'm not impressed by your violence."

Fisk, his face contorted with anger and indignation, unleashed a torrent of words in response, his voice booming with a mix of fury and arrogance.

"You dare to stand before me and question my methods?" he bellowed, his tone laced with venomous conviction. "You, a mere interloper, believe you hold the moral high ground? How naïve!"

His eyes bore into yours, the intensity of his gaze attempting to pierce through your unwavering resolve. With each word he spoke, his voice resonated with an unwavering belief in his cause.

"I am the harbinger of order in this chaotic city," Fisk declared, his voice carrying an air of self-righteousness. "Every action I take is justified in the pursuit of a better Hell's Kitchen. And you, you claim not to be impressed? You are nothing but a fool blinded by your own misguided notions."

His words dripped with contempt, his anger boiling beneath the surface. Fisk, the embodiment of power and control, refused to be undermined by anyone who dared to challenge his authority.

You give a dismissive wave of your hand, maintaining a casual demeanor as you deliver your response. "You are neither a god nor a king, Fisk. You're just twisting the narrative to suit your own needs. Fear and deception? That's your go-to move, isn't it?" Your voice carries a tinge of sarcasm, highlighting your disdain for his tactics.

"But here's the thing," you say with a nonchalant shrug, "your reign of false incompetence? Yeah, that's not gonna last. Truth has a funny way of catching up with people like you. It always prevails in the end."

You punctuate your statement with a confident nod, emphasizing your belief in the ultimate triumph of justice. Despite the casual tone, your words carry a weight of conviction, leaving no room for doubt.

Fisk's sudden charge at you unleashes a childlike rage, evident in the way he reacts to your words. Reacting swiftly, you raise your hand, conjuring a radiant ball of glamour energy that shoots toward his chest. The impact pushes him backward, but you realize his suit is composed of some sort of formidable armored material, explaining why he is merely thrown to the side.

As Wesley and the other man resume their onslaught, you raise your other hand, creating an illusion that allows you to deftly evade the incoming bullets. Amidst the chaos, someone wraps an arm around your waist, causing you to yelp in surprise. But soon, you realize it's Matt, coming to your aid.

Harnessing his strength, Matt forcefully breaks the glass and plunges into the Hudson River. The tremors in his legs, the racing of his heart, the fall, the impact—it all happens in a whirlwind. Holding your breath, you wait in suspense but eventually resurface, your legs and feet treading the freezing water as you search frantically for Matt.

With a deep gulp of air, you dive once more, the murky water making visibility challenging. By some stroke of luck, you spot Matt, completely unresponsive. Swiftly, you wrap your arm around his heavily-muscled body and swim him to the shore.

Cursing under your breath, you mutter, "Fuck... shit, shit, shit. God, Matt, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're a masochist."

Laying his body flat on the ground, you check for his pulse and breathing, relief washing over you as you confirm he's still alive. Retrieving the chain of your necklace, you swiftly grab the sling ring attached to it, sliding it onto your shaking hands. With determined focus, you conjure a portal leading to Matt's apartment, gripping him under his arms and wearily dragging him to the floor of his living room.

The portal closes behind you, and exhaustion sets in, leaving you disoriented. A loud clatter disrupts your senses, but you're too drained to comprehend what you pushed aside. However, amidst the confusion, you hear Foggy's voice bellowing from the other side of the apartment door, urgently calling out Matt's name before storming off to find another entrance.

Gazing up at the heavens with a tinge of annoyance, you force yourself to focus on the task at hand—stripping the wet clothes off Matt's body. Suddenly, the rooftop access door swings open, and Foggy's voice resonates through the apartment, his words laced with concern and humor. "Matt. It's me. I heard a crash. Not the fun, sexy-time kind, but... more of the...I've-fallen-and-I-can't-get-up variety."

Stepping on a broken floorboard at the staircase landing, Foggy's panic sets in. He swiftly grabs Matt's cane, wielding it as a makeshift weapon. Nervously, he asserts, "If anyone who's in here is not supposed to be, I will mess you up. I'm not kidding."

As Foggy turns, his gaze falls upon your disguised form on the floor, mistaking you for the Masked Man. He shouts, demanding answers, "Where's Matt? What'd you do to him?"

In response to Foggy's inquiry, you pivot to face him, allowing your disguise to shimmer away, revealing your true identity. Foggy whispers your name in shock and disbelief, his eyes taking in your battered form—cuts from glass shards, bruises from the water's impact, and blood, an unsettling amount of blood.

With your hands outstretched over Matt's chest, a brilliant golden and silver glow emanates from them as you employ one of the healing spells you've learned through your studies.

You release a shaky breath, attempting to maintain composure, but Foggy notices the tears welling in your eyes. He kneels down beside you, barely comprehending the revelation that the Man in the Mask was Matt all along. Brokenly, you address Foggy, "Foggy... It's too much... I need you to grab Matt's phone and call Claire. She's a nurse, she can help. I'll do what I can until she arrives, but I don't..."

You swallow back a gasp of pain, the adrenaline fading, leaving behind the realization that one of your deeper cuts likely still harbors fragments of glass. "Please, Foggy. I don't know how long I can keep this up before I..."

The dwindling magic within you intensifies the agony, prompting a yelp to escape your lips. "Foggy, please."

In that moment, you feel abandoned by the saints, as if the ropes that once bound you have been severed. A drumming noise reverberates inside your head, overwhelming you and causing you to collapse. The thunderous sound feels all-encompassing, louder than sirens, louder than bells—a symphony both divine and infernal, more intoxicating than heaven and hotter than hell.

END NOTES:

OOOHHHHHH??? OHHHHHHH?!?!?!

The next chapter is gonna be so fun to write JKSDHFAJKHAHA you’re all gonna absolutely hate me and throw bricks at me fr

11k words, I know. I KNOW. I’M SORRY.

I love awkward moments and I also love the sweet ones too. I think we’re reaching a point where things are slowly falling into place heheh

Okay, time to rewatch probably one of the most heartbreaking episodes of Daredevil T^T

TAGLIST: @scoliobean @thychuvaluswife @pantrashtic @ofmusesandsecrets

[doudouneverte]

Protect me, from me

a/n: I'm not really proud of the end but I really want to upload something this month, and sorry for the lack of content

*not my GIF*

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: One year after the event at Kamar Taj, Wanda lost her memories but somewhere in her mind the scarlet witch is ready to come back.

Type: a little angsty and fluff

Warning: taking place after MoM; me trying to write a panic attack

word count: 3704

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After all the mess she made with America, Wanda decided to close and destroy the Darkhold to protect everyone. She was there alone when everything started to fall on her, but when she was about to get hit by a stone, she woke up from a bad dream.

The Sokovian opened her eyes quickly, and she started to pant. She looked around to make sure everything was just a dream. She got relaxed when she saw you asleep beside her. She looked at her phone: 2a.m. She sighed and moved to the bathroom. While she was washing her face because of the sweat, she felt something strange, like a presence. She turned around but didn't see anyone. She looked at the mirror again, but she saw them, just behind her. A woman who looked like her; the same hair, the same eyes, and the same face, but the only difference was her expression; she seemed sad and angry at the same time.

Wanda started to panic when a red aura started to emerge from the woman, but when she was about to scream, you entered the room visibly tired. "Hey babe, are you okay?" you asked with a sleepy voice.

The ginger head looked at you, then at the mirror, where the woman had already disappeared, before she looked at you again. "Yeah, it's just that—I had to pee," she replied, and you nodded. "Did I wake you up?" she asked.

"No, it's just that I couldn't find you near me, and I missed you." You said, taking steps toward her until you were close enough to kiss her. She smiled and kissed you back. You always had this power over her; every time she felt bad or anxious, you were always the only one who could help her. "Are you stressed about the party tonight?" you asked when you felt her a little off.

She shook her head. "No, it's just that...you know me and the crowd," she tried to explain.

"We're not obligated to go if you don't want to."

"Y/n, it's your dad's birthday, of course we have to go."

"Yes, but I can always tell him you're sick, and we will see him another day."

"Thank you, honey, but don't worry; I'm fine, I promise." She kissed your forehead. "Now come to sleep; you have to work in a few hours," she reminded you, and you groaned.

This afternoon, Wanda was just back from a little trip to the grocery store. She took time for herself before you came back from work. She played with your dog, Marcus; he loved her, and since you two started dating, he can almost guess every time Wanda is about to have a panic attack. Your girlfriend was reading a book on the couch before she fell asleep.

She opened her eyes, and she was in a house, somewhere she didn't know. She looked around; she called your name, but you didn't reply. She started to worry but decided to check out. When she left the house, everything was weird; the world was in black and white like an old TV show; some people were dressed like back in the 50s, some like in the 60s, etc.; nothing seemed logical. The redhead wanted to escape and find you, but she ran into a woman. This woman wasn't dressed like other characters, and something was strange; despite the black and white atmosphere, her eyes were glowing blue.

"Wanda? Why do you do that, Wanda?" The mysterious woman asked, but your girlfriend didn't understand.

She couldn't reply before a tall man appeared beside her and said, Wanda, I finally found you." She looked at him confused, and she remarked that he didn't look like a human. She wanted to run, but the man grabbed her arm and asked, "Where are you going? The boys need to be fed, and I can't do this alone." Boys? Wanda wondered who's boys. 

"Excuse me, I think you're wrong. I don't know you," she replied, very anxious. She started to walk away, followed by the two strangers, when a voice called her—well,  not really her.

"This is her; it's the Scarlet Witch," a brunette woman said, pointing at Wanda. "It's you. You're the Scarlet Witch," she said, and she repeated it endlessly. Wanda started to feel panicked. She suddenly screamed and woke up. Everything seemed normal. Marcus was near her, visibly worried, and she patted him to let him know she was better now. She made her way to the kitchen to prepare herself a cup of tea, but she noticed something strange. Every piece of furniture in the room turned red. She rubbed her eyes to be sure she was still dreaming, but nothing changed.

She grabbed a mug and examined it before she heard the front. She came back to her senses and went to greet you, but when she was in front of you, the mug in her hand turned white again. "Hey babe, how was your day?" you asked, approaching her. You wanted to hug her, but you noticed what she had in her hand: "Wands, honey, are you alright?"

She turned her attention to you. "Yeah, it's just that I'm distracted." she replied. She didn't know why she didn't tell you the truth; maybe because she thought it was too unrealistic and you would never believe her. Honestly,  it's understandable. It's pretty weird to say to your girlfriend that you had a weird dream where someone called you a witch, and after that, when you woke up, all her kitchen furniture turned a bright red.

"If you don't feel good, we can cancel for tonight." You proposed, but she shook her head.

"No, don't worry. And honestly, I think it will be great to see your dad."

"Okay... I'll take a shower, and we can watch a movie if you want; we still have a lot of time before tonight."

"It's an excellent idea; I'll choose the movie and prepare the snack; go get a shower." She kissed you, and you made your way to your bedroom. The Sokovian took a deep breath and started to make her way to the kitchen again. Surprisingly, nothing weird happened again this afternoon, at least until you started to prepare for the party.

You left the bedroom just to check that everything was okay for Marcus. Wanda was alone in the bedroom. She opened the wardrobe and picked out a dress, but in front of the mirror, the dress turned into a scarlet one. Your girlfriend started to be scared; she threw the dress away and took another one, but the same thing happened.

After the fourth one, she just sat on the bed, and her breath started to be erratic. She knew that she was having a panic attack, but she couldn't do anything to stop it. Thankfully for her, you entered the room just as it started, and you noticed her on the bed. You didn't think twice before sitting beside her and taking her face between your hands.

"Hey Wands, babe, follow my breath...breathe in....and breathe out." You instructed her, but when she didn't follow you, you started to worry. You pushed your forehead against hers and waited until she noticed your presence. "Hey honey, can you hear me?" you asked, and she nodded. "Okay, I need you to follow my breath; can you please do that for me?" You waited until she gave physics replies to continue, "Great, breathe in...breathe out." You instructed again, and when she did, you repeated it until she came back to her senses.

"I'm sorry," Wanda said, and you frowned your eyebrows.

"What are you apologizing for?"

"Because you're tired because of the week, and I won't help you by having a panic attack now."

"Hey, look at me." You raised her head and made her look at you. "It's not your fault, okay?  You don't have to be sorry for something you can't control." You reassured her, but she started to cry.

"I know, but it's been a year now, and I can't help but feel like a burden for you. I know you have to work hard for the company, and I still can't remember everything about before we met," she said, and you hugged her.

"Hey, it's okay; doctor Martins said it will take some time." You reminded her.

"Yes, but it's been ONE YEAR!" she snapped, getting away from your touch. "My memories should be back now, but instead of that, I just get fucking bad dreams and anxiety." You didn't say anything; you knew she needed it. "I–I don't know what to do." She sat on the bed, and some tears started to fall from her eyes.

You approached her carefully and sat next to her. When she didn't say anything, you pulled her close to you and ran a hand through her hair.

"I feel like I haven't made any progress." She sobbed, "Sometimes I'm wondering why you're still with someone useless like me." another sob.

You shushed her and still tried to calm her. "You're not useless. Yes, your memories take some time to come back, but like the doctor said, you can't rush things." You reminded her, and you gently cupped her cheeks before leaving a lot of kisses on her face. "And if I'm still with someone incredible like you, it is because I love you." You said, and she smiled.

"Thank you." She whispered.

"Always."

"Do you think we still have time to arrive at time?"

"Definitely not, but I know my dad doesn't mind." You said, standing up, "Are you sure you want to go?" You asked her, and she nodded. "Ok great."

"But... can you pick a nice dress for me, please?" She asked shyly, definitely not ready to repeat what happened earlier. You thought a little about it before agreeing.

The ride to the party was relaxing for Wanda; you spent the time talking about any little things that happened to you at work. It was distracting her from her thoughts. At the party, everyone was happy to finally see the both of you. With your girlfriend's hand in yours, you made your way to your dad and mom, who were relieved to know you could come.

"Happy birthday, dad!" You greeted him excitedly, and he matched your enthusiasm by giving you a crushing hug before giving another one to the Sokovian.

"Happy birthday, Mr. Y/l/n. We bought you something; I know you said you didn't want anything, but I really insisted." Wanda said, and your dad smiled and accepted her present.

"You really didn't have to." He replied, he wanted to talk more with her, but some coworkers came and brought him and you to see some potential new investors, leaving Wanda alone with your mom.

"Even at his birthday party, they talked about work." Your mom sighed, visibly angry, making your girlfriend laughed.

"You know how they are." She commented.

"Yes unfortunately." Your mom took a moment to make sure you were okay before she spoke again. "And I also know that you don't really like crowded places. So do you want to come with me on the rooftop?" She proposed, and the brunette accepted.

They talked for a moment before your mom had to take a call, leaving the Sokovian alone with her thoughts and a beautiful view of the city. She decided to come back to the party when her phone rang. She examined the number, but it didn't remind her of anything. With a nervous feeling, she picked up.

"Hello?" She asked nervously, and she waited a moment until someone replied.

"Oh sorry, hello. Wanda Maximoff, right?" The woman replied.

"Yes… and you are?"

"My name's Maria Hill. I worked for the SHIELD; I heard about what happened to you, and it took me a long time to find you." The woman called Maria declared.

"And how do you know me?" 

"I…well we worked together in the past."

"Were you an Avengers?"

"No, but I worked with them too."

"Okay, and how can I help you?"

"To be honest, I'll help you."

"Sorry?"

"I learned what happened to you about your amnesia, and I can help you." Wanda didn't hear the end of her sentence when you walked on the rooftop. "Wanda, are you here?"

"Uh, I'll call you back." She said before hanging out.

"Hey babe, are you okay?" You asked a little concerned when you heard her rush to end the phone call.

"Yes, of course."

"Sure?"

"Yeah, don't worry." She kissed your forehead "so why are you here?"

"It's time for the cake." You announced.

"Already?" 

"Yeah, come on." You grabbed her hand and dragged her into the elevator. While you were joining the party, you didn't stop to be touchy with the Sokovian, some caresses, compliments, and a lot of kisses.

Back at home later that night, you were both tired and ready for bed. Wanda felt an anger growing deep in her mind after the call with this Maria, but she didn't know why. Fortunately for her, this feeling was quickly forgotten when she started to fall asleep on top of you.

---------

In an apartment not so far from your home, a strange group was finishing some details for their operation.

"Are you sure about that? I mean, she doesn't seem dangerous; maybe we can let her live her life for now." Kate proposed.

"She doesn't remember being the Scarlet Witch; if we wait more and her memories come back, her powers will too, and it'll be too late." Maria explained.

"Okay, she's finally back, but she's not alone." Doctor Strange said coming back from wherever he was.

"Don't worry, we planned that." The older brunette said.

"Great, but I have a question." The sorcerer said, and the agent nodded to let him know that she was listening. "Why do we have to bring those two?" He asked pointed Kate and Yelena. 

"Because the world still needs heroes, and after our losses, they were the only ones available." She explained.

"Not me. I'm here because Kate Bishop is still reckless." The Russian said.

"And who's the person with Wanda?" The archer asked.

The ancient agent tapped something on her iPad before she showed it to them. "Y/n Y/l/n. The daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Y/l/n. She's the future CEO of Y/l/n Corp." She introduced you.

Yelena examined your profile a moment before Strange spoke "Why don't we know her birthday?" He asked.

"She got adopted when she was little, but we don't really know anything about that or her biological parents." 

"That's because they're dead." The blonde said, gaining everyone's attention. "Y/n is from the red room; she never knew her parents; they both get mysteriously killed a few weeks after her birth. Dreykov sent an old widow to bring her to the red room." She explained.

"But what is she doing here?" Kate asked.

"When she was ten, she was sent on a mission with a group of older widows, but only two of them came back, and Y/n wasn't with them. She was the only person I could call my friend in this place. The widow told Dreykov that she was killed in the mission, but when I grew up, she revealed to me that she and the other widow found her a new place far from our nightmare. Dreykov decided to trust them because she wasn't one of the best."

There was a little silence; everybody was processing what the blonde said.

"Wow." Kate finally broke the atmosphere: "But wait, you didn't try to find her when you learned that she wasn't dead?"

"I tried, but the widows who helped her disappear were pretty good at erasing all their traces."

"Sorry to break this moment, but we need to go now." Maria said, and the girls nodded before following her out of the apartment.

--------

Wanda was sleeping, peacefully dreaming about a future with you, when a voice appeared out of nowhere. 'Wake up. Wake up, they are here.' the voice repeated. At first, it was low, but with time, the voice became louder, and she finally woke up from her dream.

She took a moment to look around her and make sure you were still sleeping, then she heard voices from outside of the house. They were whispering something, but she couldn't understand what they said. She made her way to the front door and looked through the pipe hole. She saw three shapes moving and stopping in front of the door. Something told her that they were not alone, and she took some steps back. When she did, she felt like someone was observing her from the roof.

Marcus sensed Wanda starting to be stressed and barked to gain her attention; at that, the women on the other side of the door stopped themselves. When the dog barked again, the Sokovian quickly tried to silence him.

"Hey little boy, stop. You don't want to wake up, mama, do you?" She asked, and being the good boy he was, Marcus stopped, but at this moment the previous anger that had been growing before she slept came back. The ginger head stood up in front of the door, and she didn't know how or why, she moved her hand, and a red aura started to form around the doorknob before the door opened alone.

Maria didn't have the time to process what happened before she got thrown away by a red fireball. The two other women looked at the scene, obviously surprised, before the widow got caught by Wanda's magic and got attracted to her.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" She asked Yelena after she pinned her against the nearest wall.

"Hey Wanda, let her go!" Kate tried to act firm, but the witch just chuckled.

"And who are you supposed to be?" She wanted to attack her, but her movement was restrained by some good magic ropes.

"Listen to me, Wanda; we're not here to harm you. We're just here to help you and bring you somewhere where some qualified people can help you." Strange said, appearing from the roof.

"You! I recognize you; you're—" She hadn't finished her sentence before you appeared from your bedroom with a gun pointed at the sorcerer.

"Get out of my house!" You yelled, and everybody looked at you.

"Y/n?" You looked at the one who called you; she seemed familiar, but you couldn't remember her name. "It's me; it's Yelena." She declared. You lowered your gun, clearly shocked.

"Yelena? But what are you doing here?" You asked.

"It's a funny story, but before that, I need you to tell her to let me go, please."

You made your way to Wanda with your gun still pointed at Strange. "Hey Wands, honey, you can let her go; she'd not hurt you, I promise." You said.

"I know, but I can't. I can't control this—" she suddenly felt on the ground with her hands around her head, screaming from pain.

You kneeled down beside her and tried to pull her into your arms, but a little scarlet barrier appeared around her body. All her memories, from Hydra to the incident at Kamar Taj, came back to her. She felt visibly tired on the ground.

While she was unconscious, you talked with the group, and they told you why they were here. They received orders to bring her to DC, where she would be put somewhere to make sure nothing like Kamar Taj happened again.

"I can't let you do that." You protested.

"Y/n, listen to me—" Maria tried to say but you cut her off.

"No, you'll listen to me. I found her last year when she was alone, she lost her memories and her hopes. I spent a lot of time trying to break her walls, I spent a lot of nights awake because she couldn't sleep. I was there for her when she needed someone. I falled for her okay, and you want me to give up everything because you want to imprison her again?" You scoffed "sorry but I think you need to leave." You stood up and walked to the front door to open it.

They all left, but not before Yelena gave you a last hug.

A few days later, Wanda didn't wake up from this night. It's started to worry you. This day, you just came back from work like always, and you made your way to the bedroom when you saw her, on her feet but with a strange outfit.

"Wanda?" Hearing her name, your girlfriend turned her attention to you, and before she could say anything, you were catching her between your arms. This feeling was very peaceful, but she pushed you away. "Babe?"

"I remember everything." She said, and you smiled.

"That's great, my love."

"No, it's not great." You frowned your eyebrows "I'm a monster, Y/n. I killed those people. I killed everyone." She said and started crying. You took some steps toward her and wrapped your arms around her waist.

"My love, look at me." You said firmly, but still carefully. It took a few seconds, but she did. "Tell me what happened."

After a few hours, Wand finished telling you everything about her and her past.

"Listen, you know who I am. I was straight with you even before we started dating. I also did a lot of things I'm not proud of, but look, things have changed since. I have a family, a great dog," you kissed her tenderly, "and a marvelous girlfriend. I don't care about your past; I wasn't there when all those things happened. But I'm here now, and trust me when I say that I'll still love you and be here for you." You gave her another kiss. "I love everything about you, Wanda Maximoff, even the flaws."

Now she was crying in your arms. She didn't notice, but she gained control over her powers, and her clothes changed to her usual ones.

"What did I do to deserve someone like you?" She asked through her sobs. "I love you."

"I know my love."

[strangesthirdeye]

Chapter 6: Choices

Unspoken Love Masterlist /Chapter: 7

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A thousand steps are set by you the moment you step into the ring of fire in front of you. Your eyes widen with amazement when you see the new landscape where you are. All the carvings on the concrete that are there attract your attention while the old building that is there holds its own history that makes you more interested.This place, even though it seems so old. It still stands firm. The midday light shines through the surrounding area revealing beautiful sun kisses in every corner of the area. There are also some benches in the area for students who are there to sit while studying.

The fiery ring you entered then disappeared leaving a small spark in the air. as well as the other side of the back alley of Starbucks. Dhani took a step forward walking towards the porch that led to a moderately large gate. You without delay with a little difficulty because you walk with the help of a walking stick followed Dhani from behind while your eyes scanned the surrounding area. The atmosphere here is very different from the atmosphere in New York. Here, it is more about calm and comfortable silence as well as fresh air compared to the area where you live which is noisy and the air is polluted with car and motorbike engines. So without a second thought you make this place your favorite place.

Dhani looked at you who were still interested in the surrounding area. "do you like this place?"

You shook from your reverie about the surrounding area and looked at Dhani. "yeah, quite calm and quiet. I prefer this place to New York."

Dhani nodded. "same goes to me. "

You walked quickly to Dhani's side. "what did you do just now.. that ring of fire.. is that a portal? Like you use magic, right?"

Dhani glanced at you and then looked ahead. "sort of.. but here we don't call it magic. We call it Mystic Art. Every sorcerer here studies Mystic arts.. I came here not only to heal myself but to learn something."

"So there are many people here? Are you sure this is not a magic school?" You said in a joking tone.

Dhani chuckled. "if you think this is Hogwarts then you are the best PotterHeads fan. Like I said earlier, this is the Kamar Taj. It can be called magic school too but we don't call it magic school in front of the masters here."

You nodded your head. "so you have students who study magic and are also taught by Masters who teach magic at magic school. Yeah, more or less like another version of Hogwarts. I respect that"

Dhani stifled a laugh "better don't say that in front of the Ancient One,though. I'm pretty sure she's tired of it already."

You tilt your head slightly to look at Dhani's face. "the Ancient One?"

Dhani nodded. "yeah, she's the Sorcerer Supreme who rules everything here. The best sorcerer in this Universe. Sometimes she can be quite humble and sporting but most of the time, she's quite strict and serious when it comes to work. Better don't go to her bad side." Dhani said slowly as her eyes looked around. Worried if the Ancient One suddenly appeared as soon as Dhani mentioned her name.

"Why? Is she going to expel us if we do something wrong?" You mumbled.

Dhani shivered for a moment, perhaps remembering something terrible and embarrassing. "ohhh... more than that, my friend. Better not ask about that."

You could only nod after seeing Dhani's reaction a moment ago when you mentioned what the Ancient One would do if you did something out of control. Just seeing Dhani's reaction you can imagine what happened to Dhani.

To ease the tense situation, you looked at Dhani with an amused face.

"So, this Ancient One.. is she Dumbledore's secret sister?" you joked while raising one eyebrow.

Dhani giggled while covering her mouth to stop herself from letting out a big laugh. Maybe don't want to disturb other people who are there. "please don't tell me you are not my long lost sibling that I don't know because you have the same thoughts as I do"

You chuckle along with Dhani. "Nahh, I mean you yourself said that she is the one in charge here, so doesn't that make her the headmistress here"

"yes, but there's no need to mention that she is Dumbledore's secret sister" Dhani held her chest while trying not to let out a big laugh before making a sigh and shush towards you because Dhani was worried if the two of you would disturb the students in every room you both passed.

After a few moments later, you both stopped laughing and focused on what was happening now. Now the two of you are in a corridor full of doors, maybe classrooms or students' bedrooms. Door after door the two of you pass, making you look confused at Dhani who is leading you to the place that is in her mind.

"So, where are we going?" you asked Dhani.

"Meet the Ancient One, of course." said Dhani simply.

You nodded your head as you walked by Dhani's side closely. Some of the students there came out of their room maybe wanting to go to the destination in their mind with their hands full of thick and quite old books. You looked at the students walking past the two of you. Most of the students here wear tunic-like uniforms with various colors. Some wear blue, brown or red, some also have some accessories on their clothes. There are also those who wear jewelry such as rings, gloves or earrings on their hands or ears that look like quite old and ancient accessories. There are also those who wear necklaces and bracelets that have strange symbols carved on them. You made the conclusion that every student here has their own personalities.

You looked at Dhani who was wearing a brown turtleneck inside and a dark brown jacket outside. Black pants and black and white converse shoes. At a glance, Dhani looks like a normal person but when you admire her face, you can see that there is a faded scar on the side of her face. The scar is not long and very visible, but it will be visible if you look closely. You also see that Dhani wears star and moon shaped earrings in her ears.

You looked down and noticed that on each of Dhani's fingers there were several rings on her fingers mostly on the ring finger and the index finger on both hands. A moon and star shaped ring similar to Dhani's earring.

'So many moon and stars' you thought to yourself.

You wondered if Dhani was really obsessed with the moon and stars when you saw the way she wore accessories that had the same shape.

Dhani has her own personality. she is a calm and humble person who makes other people quite comfortable with her presence even though she has just met them. Sometimes being serious but her seriousness doesn't last long when she starts smiling alone. Some may say that Dhani is a lunatic and a mad person, but what they see is different from what others say.

as you admire around the place and some students there, all of a sudden you remember something and look at Dhani. Ignoring the slight pain that was growing in your legs, you quickened your pace and walked by Dhani's side. Although Dhani is a little shorter than you, but her steps are quite fast which also causes Dhani to walk fast without the sound of footsteps.

"I see, you don't just want to heal physically and mentally, but your feelings and emotions.. You're in love with someone you've known for a long time. A long love that can't be accepted. Am I right?"

"Dhani,"

"hmm?" Dhani hummed and looked at you.

"What do you mean by what you said earlier? The one you mentioned long love that cannot be accepted yet?" You looked at Dhani with a face showing your hopefully.

Dhani stopped suddenly and looked at a wooden gate with a carving in the middle of the wooden door. Probably they have reached the destination that is in Dhani's mind.

"ahh, well.. you look like you're desperate and at the same time you're not desperate. I can only see that you have hope for someone. You don't just want to heal for yourself, right? You have hope that when you're healed , you can get back with that someone even if he doesn't notice you. more or less unrequited love.Tell me, If you're not comfortable don't answer this question but if you're comfortable, answer this question." Dhani looked at you peering.

You looked at Dhani for a moment. Trying to process what Dhani said earlier. Unrequited love. That is what it called if someone loves someone but the love is not reciprocated or noticed by that person. Feeling loved from afar for someone even if that person does not return their love. Something that most likely many people face. Unreciprocated or unrequited love is when you long for someone who doesn't share your sentiments.

It's not like you clearly love Stephen. It's just a teenage crush if you want to say it. But, you also know that the feeling has long faded after you've been silent for a long time but the residual feeling is still lingering in your mind and heart. I mean you are a little jealous of Christine because her love is reciprocated by Stephen. But come on, you've been friends with Stephen since childhood, surely you can think that you and Stephen can be more than friends. And you're wrong. Never expect the things you have high hopes for because that thing will also make you hurt.

"asked away then. I don't mind" you nodded in acceptance.

"Who's this guy you have this heart for?" asked Dhani with curiosity.

You looked down and muttered. "Stephen Strange.."

"Oh, that guy eh? sheshh.. I mean sure he's really handsome and must have a lot of fans but who can stand his behavior though?" Dhani rambled idly then stopped and glanced at you who was still looking at the ground.

"ohhh! Are you serious?" Dhani who was in a newly realized state looked at you with wide eyes.

You just nodded.

"Since when did you start having feelings for him?" Dhani said with newly interested in this conversation.

"he.. is my friend since childhood. Well it's just a teenage crush, nothing big. After all, Stephen already has a girlfriend. So that feeling is long gone." you exclaimed with a resigned face.

Dhani tipped her head to the side slightly looking at you with a unsure face. Looking at you with a facial expression that you yourself could not identify as if you were an alien. Either she tried to process what you said earlier or she tried to respond to your words but stuck in her mouth because she didn't know how to respond to the sentence.

You see, Dhani is a person who lacks love. It's not because she lacks love from her family, but when it comes to romance between people, this is not a strong topic for her. She herself has not had a boyfriend since teenager until now, so this romantic topic is not an easy thing for her. So if you want advice about romance from Dhani, Better don't go to Dhani. She's just not interested in romance. Let alone crush on someone.

"but you love him don't you?" Dhani said.

You just stay silent. Yes correct. You still love him even though he never acknowledges your feelings or the things you do 'obviously' that you like him, but what can you do? Stephen's eyes were only on Christine. He thought you were just a childhood friend. Nothing more than that. Well, that feeling disappeared a long time ago so why did it come back?.

Dhani just looked at you and then turned her gaze to the carved wooden door in front of the two of you.

"You better stand by yourself before facing The Ancient One. We don't know what will happen when we meet her, so you better stand by."

You nodded slowly. The conversation about Stephen was long forgotten now your focus is only on the carved wooden brown door in front of you. It's like you're waiting for your turn to enter the principal's room after breaking school rules. But this aura is more than the principal's room. it is as if facing a king who has power in the region. Your heart beats fast as your mind thinks about what will happen next.

Dhani knocked on the carved wooden door and grabbed the doorknob and twisted it. The carved wooden door opened slowly and produced a 'creaking' sound as it opened.

Dhani looked at you and nodded towards the door as if telling you to come in first. You looked at Dhani unconvinced then sighed heavily and slowly and hesitantly took steps to enter the door. As soon as you enter there, you are accompanied by the strong smell of tea and herbs there.

The spacious and large room looks like a training room when it is decorated with some antique furniture like vases and some chairs and tables with strange carvings. While the atmosphere of the room seems to be yellowish because the sunlight shines on the dim room. The brown wooden wall adds to the look in the room.

You looked at the room in awe. Although the room seemed to be closed, you could feel how cold the place was. Maybe there is air conditioning in the room. Dhani closed the door of the room and walked into a closed room. You caught a glimpse of Dhani entering the closed room.

'where did she go?' you thought in your heart.

Suddenly, you feel awkward standing there alone. You don't know what to do there seeing that Dhani just disappeared and you just stand there like an idiot. You awkwardly walked around the room to look and examine some of the strange and old items and carvings there.

Although you don't understand what the meaning behind the weird carving is, you are quite amazed and wonder at the beauty of the carvings there, regardless of whether it is on an antique copper vase or a wooden wall full of carvings. Well, this place is like a temple so no wonder it is full of antiques.

"Isn't it beautiful?"

You quickly turned around to see who the voice was and stopped when your eyes fell on a woman dressed in a gray tunic. The woman who looks old but young at the same time has no hair but her face seems to carry a calm and powerful aura. The woman just smiled sweetly at you.

"The Ancient One" Dhani bowed slightly while stretching her hand towards the Ancient One beside her as a sign to introduce The Ancient One to you.

You nod respectfully. You don't even expect that a woman who looks like this is a powerful person here, but when you think about it, the way the Ancient One carries herself is as if she already has a lot of experience in this matter.

You looked at the Ancient one. "indeed it is beautiful, ma'am"

The Ancient One walked around while admiring the sculpture there. Dhani just looked at you both from the other side of the room while leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Beautiful and unique. Some of the carvings and items here are thousands of years old so we need to maintain their quality in good condition. Some of the carvings here are one of the protection spells for this place from threats. So every 20 years, we need to renew them so that this place will last. protected" explained The Ancient One then stopped and looked at you.

"I'm sure Dhani told you our purpose here, didn't she, Miss L/n?" asked the Ancient One as he walked towards you.

You looked at the half-tall woman with a thud and nodded. "yes.. " you pause. "wait, you just said my name"

"indeed yes, I have said your name and I really expected you to come here before Dhani informed me about your arrival."

You fell silent and looked at the figure of Dhani who was leaning against the wooden wall behind you. Dhani looked at you in awe mouthed 'she knows everything'.

You looked at the Ancient One again and gulped slowly. "you expect my arrival?"

"All the time." The Ancient One replied shortly.

You just looked at The Ancient One hesitantly. The Ancient One then walked past you and approached a short table that had three tea cups and a medium sized teapot filled with herbal tea. Ancient One's pale and soft hands then reached the hot teapot and poured tea into the three teacups.

One cup of tea was given to Dhani and the other was given to you before the Ancient One slowly sipped her tea. You looked at Dhani who was tasting the herbal tea at the end of the room while scrunching her face as if the tea she was drinking didn't suit her taste.

You looked at your teacup. The tea that is rich in golden color and swirling herbs in the glass tea cup is slowly sipped by you. Instantly, the warm and fresh feeling rushes down your throat to your stomach making you hum slowly.

"Nice tea.. " you praised sincerely to the Ancient One.

The Ancient One nodded with a small smile. "Thanks. I didn't think anyone would like the taste I like. Unfortunately Dhani is not a fan of this tea taste" The Ancient One eyed Dhani mischievously.

Dhani looked at The Ancient One with wide eyes as if she had been exposed and then turned her gaze to another place while pretending to sip the herbal tea with a red face.

The Ancient One shook her head and looked at your figure who was still standing holding your walking stick. She can clearly see that your left hand that is holding the walking stick is beginning to tremble due to the long time of putting pressure on the stick when she can see the pained face that is wrinkled on you is beginning to be visible due to the long time of holding the pain in your leg.

"Why don't you sit down? I can see that you can fall down at any time after being in pain for a long time" the Ancient One commanded.

You looked around for a chair to sit but couldn't find one. You confusedly looked at the Ancient One and tried to open your mouth to say something but didn't have time because suddenly out of nowhere a wooden chair appeared behind you making you widen your eyes.

'now that is something' you thought and slowly you sat down while placing your paralyzed leg in a forward stretch to reduce the pain while your hand holding the walking stick was held tight.

"thank you.. umm" you said slowly.

The Ancient One looked at you with her head slightly tilted to the side trying to read your body language carefully. She then nodded and walked over to the small table and placed her teacup on the table before looking at you.

"I assume you've seen unusual things before?" The Ancient One asked.

"Well, Dhani showed me something unusual in front of me a while ago so I better get used to it, right?" you mumbled.

The Ancient One's mouth upward trying to fight her smile but was only able to highlight her small smile before her face returned to the same expression. "indeed, but what you see is only a small part of what you see. There's still a lot more that you haven't seen yet. It's just a matter of time."

You looked at the Ancient One confused. Everything she says has a hidden meaning, even the way she talks is like a puzzle that is hard to unravel. Only those who have an open mind are able to understand what she is talking about. Looking at the way she carries herself, it is certain that she keeps all the mysterious secrets hidden behind her expression and shadow. Only time and the right person can unravel the secret.

You stretched your fingers trying to get rid of the feeling of nervousness and shaking. Your hands start to sweat. "Uhm.. You see, after listening to what Dhani informed me not long ago, is it true that this place is for physical and mental healing? It's not that I don't believe it, but I'm just curious about the way this place works. How do you all treat people who come here, what method do you use to treat them and what do you do while treating them?" you asked with several questions in the direction of the Ancient One.

Dhani looked at you with interest. 'wow, she's definitely got breast with a question like that.'

"from the moment you set foot here, you were not only treated in a specific way but also in a spiritual way. We here are only able to help you recover and the rest is taken care of by your own spirit. Tell me, Miss Y/n. Have you ever heard of Astral Projection?" The Ancient One looked at you with concentration on her face.

You slowly swallowed your saliva. You don't know why you suddenly feel intimidated by this woman in front of you. Her expression shows all the things that you yourself cannot decipher.

Astral projection. You have heard and never seen it happen before your eyes. In fact, you yourself do not believe in matters related to the spirit or the supernatural, but after witness the magic performed by the two women in front of you, you begin to understand what is happening.

The Ancient One smirked briefly then turned serious. "I assume you know what astral projection is. You see, we here not only follow the traditional way but spiritually to heal any internal illness including mental health."

"wait, wait.. give me some time to understand" you paused to understand what the Ancient one said. Cure internal diseases in a spiritual way. Impossible but quite unique and makes you more curious about how this place operates. You looked at Dhani, who had seen the conversation between you and the Ancient One.

Dhani's face, which is quite relaxed and a bit tired, maybe because she does a lot of activities, even though her job is to bring you here, she can only smile a little at you.

'That's what she said' Dhani thoughts mutely to you.

As if you understood the look that Dhani gave, you turned your gaze back to The Ancient One's face. She's seems calmer always. Probably she has dealt with people like you before. No wonder she plays this situation as if it is normal.

"what you said is, you use spirit to heal?" you inspect the Ancient One's face carefully.

The Ancient One smiled slightly. "not any spirit, but your own spirit. We only encourage you to heal yourself spiritually"

Your eyes twitch a little. "that's impossible"

The Ancient One just studies your body language. "not everything is impossible"

You rubbed the back of your neck. "How? Really. Because this thing can't possibly be done by people."

"It's actually possible, if you really believe in something and study it" replied the Ancient One. "besides-" the Ancient One added before placing her right hand on your chest and gently she pushed your body backward.

And with a flash, you feel yourself pushed backward. Not yourself but your spirit seems to be pushed out of your body. You who are now in a state of spirit look at the Ancient One who seems to be in slow motion and still push your body back. You shifted your gaze to your own body that seemed slumped lifeless on the chair with your head lulled to the side as if you were sleeping. Even if you are still being pushed back in slow motion, you can see the reaction on your face which is quite blank. The pupils are rolled to the back of the head, the mouth is slightly open and the reaction on your face is just blank. Empty. Like you're in a deep without any disturbance.

You panic. 'what's happening?'

as if you were pulled by a supernatural force, you came back into your body and gasped as if you had been drowning for a long time with slightly panicked eyes looking all over the place. Your chest rises and falls as if you've just run a marathon. Your heart is beating fast pumping blood throughout your body.

The Ancient One and Dhani just looked with knowing faces. Dhani narrowed her eyes a little. Observe your face carefully.

You took deep breaths many times trying to calm your racing heart and after several attempts, you finally calmed down. You looked at The Ancient One bewildered.

"what the hell is happening?" you asked with confusion and disbelief.

"Earlier, you just went through the astral project phase. Where you are in a world that normal humans cannot see. Short form 'spirit world'." The Ancient One simply replied.

You looked at the Ancient one with an anxious and disbelief face. "Is that how you encourage them to heal themselves? Using their own spirit?"

"with a little bit magic" Dhani interrupted.

"yes. Although, it requires quite a long time of work and study to master certain spells or phases. Here, we don't really care about time, whether it's long or short." The Ancient One explained.

You just looked at the Ancient One with a calculated face. Brow clenching together with concentration trying to understand what the woman in front of you said. Even if you have an advanced mind and brain and quickly understand things, it does not mean that you will understand certain impossible things easily. It takes minutes or hours to understand. Most likely days.

You gulped a little and let out a short breath. "if you say so.. Can you teach me..please?" you begged.

'she said the magic word' Dhani silently praised you.

The Ancient One smirked a little. "yes" she said simply then turned and walked out of the room the three of you were in slowly.

You could only look at the place where the Ancient One was standing before you slowly turned your gaze to Dhani who was from the beginning of the conversation in the corner of the room. Looking at Dhani's face that brightened as if she got candy is the first thing you notice when you see her face. Her face was surprised but at the same time it seemed to support and cheer for you. Maybe this is the first time she witnessed how quickly the Ancient One accepted you as a student here.

Dhani then squealed. "Ahh! You got it! ohh, I've never seen the Ancient One accept students so quickly all this time. You're the second person she accepted with just a yes. Last time with a former student, his name was Kaecilius. He was the first person the Ancient One accepted because she saw that he has the potential to be a sorcerer. Turns out he is more into dark magic" Dhani said darkly in the last sentence.

You just looked at Dhani with a confused face. You were a bit surprised how quickly Dhani's mood changed.

"What about you? You were accepted too, right?" you asked Dhani.

"turns out, I need to make a puppy face several times to make her accept me. She said I'm too small and young to learn even though she doesn't know I've been sneaking and reading spell books my mom borrowed. heh" Dhani spilled out all her old secrets .

"Your mom is a sorcerer too?"

"was... she died when I was little and so did my father. Well I never knew my father because he died before I was born so I only have my mother. Now I'm an orphan." Dhani pauses. "ah! enough with the negative mood, let me show you which room you can occupy"

Dhani then walked out of the room and you hurriedly followed Dhani with a small wince of pain as your bad leg muscle was suddenly jolted after you quickly got up.

"wh-what do you mean you want to show me the room I will live in?" you asked Dhani with raised eyebrows.

Dhani glanced at you. "well, the Ancient One has approved your offer. Surely you will stay here to study so..." Dhani paused for a moment and looked you straight in the eyes. "Are you really going to live here? I mean you just made the choice to study here so of course you will live here now that the Ancient One has approved you. But do you really want to stay here?"

You just silenced. This is a difficult decision for you. You don't know if you should be happy because of The Ancient One approval or because you have to leave everything behind in New York. By everything means friends and Stephen. Should you tell him you're leaving New York for a few months or just leave without hearing and have Stephen look for you until he finds you? Surely you can't tell about this place because well they deserve privacy and this place is something outsiders can't know about. Only when you are invited will you know.

This decision makes your head aches. A massive headache it is. Right. Like Dhani said, 'you think too much, that's why you get migraines'. You have to stop thinking hard for now. For your own good too. So, you take a deep breath and exhale slowly. You repeat the action again and stop after you feel that you are a little bit ok.

"Is it okay if I go back to my house for a while? I just need to get something done first." you mumbled to Dhani.

"Of course, need help with transport? I can open a portal for you if you give me your home address" Dhani suggested.

You nodded your head indicating that you accepted the suggestion. Then you started giving your home address to Dhani. Without wasting any time, Dhani started wearing the sling ring and making the hands motion you saw before. Sparks of fire began to appear little by little before the spark grew larger and formed a large coil of sparks in the air. Dhani stopped and looked into the portal.

"sheesh.. you got a big house there, Girl." Dhani admitted while looking around the living room of your house.

"thanks" you mumbled and started to limping into the coil of fire.

"Can I come in?" Dhani asks for permission.

You looked at Dhani. "yeah, feel free to make it like your own home. I just need to go to my room for a while"

Dhani nodded and took off her shoes and walked towards the dining table and placed her shoes next to the dining chair. You just looked at Dhani for a moment and shook off your reverie and walked towards your bedroom.

As soon as you entered the door of your room, you slowly closed the door without locking it and thought for a moment. That's it, you will leave all this here and start a new life. But before that, you have to tell Stephen. But, what do you want to say to him?

'Hey Stephen. Listen, this is a bit crazy but I'm going abroad for a few months so don't be naughty'

Gahh, seriously do you want to tell him like that? You definitely deserve a lecture from Stephen later. You groaned in frustration.

"nghh, what should I say to him?" you whispered to yourself.

You sighed heavily and took your phone out of your pocket. The phone opened and your thumb slid to the screen and pressed Stephen's contact message. You were blank there for a moment. Dammit. What are you doing?

You held your phone with both hands and slowly you slid your back against the door and sat on the floor. Your knees were brought to your chest and your eyes were on the phone screen. Your walking stand is placed lifelessly to the side

You: Stephen?

You sent the message and waited for a reply from him.

Giraffe: hey

Stephen replied shortly.

You remain looking at the message without any movement.

Giraffe: Y/n? You there?

You quickly responded.

You: yeah, I'm here.

Giraffe: why are you texting? is something wrong? do you want something?

You: no no.. I'm good. I just need to tell you something.

Giraffe: *typing..*

Giraffe: what what is it?

You sigh. Oh, what do you want to say to him? How?

You: do you remember the things I said about learning to accept fate, right?

Giraffe: yes?

You: and we can't change our fate, right?

Giraffe: I don't like where this is going

You: well, I lied about that.

Giraffe: what do you mean?

You: that we have to learned to accept fate and cannot change our fate. Well I lied about that. I can't accept that honestly.

Giraffe: what?

You: the things is.. I can't pretend to accept all this.

There was some silence for a while.

You: I can't accept what is happening now. I'm tired..

Giraffe: what are you talking about? Are you ok?

You: of course not.. duh.. just want to tell you that I'm going out of the country for a few months.

Yup, surely you are now on autopilot. Your mood is all messed up.

Giraffe: what? where? that long seriously? with who?

There Stephen mother nature is finally coming out. You can imagine what his voice was like when he said that. Always the one who worries.

You: just a place far from here.. for peace

Giraffe: is it therapy?

You: sort of.. i don't know

Giraffe: if you don't know, why do you want to go that far? Nope, I'm coming now.

You: no need, I'm already there.

You lied. You can't let Stephen come here. Dangerous and later everything will be a mess. You hate explaining something to people. You hate lying to him. But sometimes you have to lie to him.

Giraffe: what? then why only now you want to tell me that you have arrived there already?

You: sorry.. jet lag.

Giraffe: silly... seriously who are you with now?

You bit your lip anxiously. Fingernails tapping the side of the phone several times.

You: Dhani.

Giraffe: who?

You: Dhani Omens. She's the one who brought me here.

Giraffe:...

Giraffe: who?

You: the one patient Ain told me before.

Giraffe: did you ever mention her to me?

You: ...

You are stiff. Have you ever mentioned Dhani's name to Stephen before? probably not.

You:.. no?

Giraffe: exactly. So I don't know her.

You: are you worried about me?

Giraffe: no.. just want to know that you were not kidnapped or held hostage.

You: Asshole.

Giraffe: no need to be rough.

You: i need to go...

Giraffe: why now?

You: I need some space.

Giraffes...

Stephen was silent for a moment. You start to feel guilty. After a few moments you waited for a reply from Stephen, you started to get up and reached for your walking stick and staggered to your bed. The phone was thrown on the bed and you knelt down to grab the luggage bag from under your bed. The dark blue luggage opened and you let out a heavy breath. This is it. Time to go.

You then walked to the closet and drawers and took out several pairs of shirts, underwears and pants from the closet. Still no notifications from Stephen, you started to close the luggage bag after you finished folding and packing your clothes and toiletries into the luggage bag.

And then, you reached for your walking stick and with a small groan you picked up the medium sized luggage and set it on the floor so you could push the luggage. You sigh for hundreds of times for today. If Stephen is still silent then this is the end of the conversation between the two of you. You're not blocking him or deleting his number.. it's just that you won't reply to any messages or contact anyone while you're in the Kamar Taj.

As soon as you came out of your room with the luggage bag pushed by you, you looked at Dhani who was reading one of your biography books on the sofa in an upright and somewhat awkward sitting position.

Just heard the door of the room open, Dhani perked and raised his eyes there was a sound and there you are standing diagonally with a medium sized dark blue luggage looking at you.

"oh, you ready?" Dhani got up and put the book she was reading back on the shelf.

You nodded slightly. "yeah, let's go"

Dhani nodded and made a motion to open the portal immediately. After the portal was big enough for the two of you to enter, Dhani nodded slightly to you as a sign for you to enter first before walking to the dining table and taking her shoes. You entered and looked around the corridor. This time the two of you are no longer in the room where you first met The Ancient One but in a slightly dim corridor accompanied by the setting sun. Fortunately there are lights on there so you don't have to walk in the dark. Dhani entered and put her shoes back on and closed the portal.

"come on, I'll show you where your room will be" Dhani tipped her head towards the corridor and walked forward.

You follow Dhani closely from behind because you are worried about being left behind. Some students have just returned from training and some have just left their room to do something. So it is not surprising that this corridor is quite busy and a little crowded. Some of the students may have night classes or just want to go to the kitchen for dinner.

"Dhani, yo!" shouted a young man from behind you.

You turned around and looked at the brown haired, tall and skinny man in front of you. Dhani seems to recognize him from the way her eyes lit up when looking at the man.

"Yo, John." Dhani greets him.

"night class?" the man named John asked Dhani. He still doesn't seem to notice you. That's alright.

"nope, just want to show the new member to her room" Dhani nodded at you.

John who seems to have just noticed you started looking at you and widened his eyes.

"oh! You're Doctor L/n right? oh, yes. I've seen you many times in documentaries on TV about medicine and treatment and all. Oh my!" John excitedly said louder. His smile was as wide as the ocean, his eyes twinkled with stars.

You awkwardly nodded in appreciation. "yes.. that's me.."

"I always watch documentaries about how you make new techniques with Doctor Strange or just some effective treatment on TV.. I'm really interested" John continued excitedly he reached out and shook your hand a few times and let go. His carefree energy is still full.

You nodded a few times awkwardly. You just want to get out of this situation. I mean you are used to meeting people who are excited to see you but you are really uncomfortable. Dhani as if sense that you shifted your foot several times started to catch the hint and then looked at John.

"It's best if we both go first, after all she looks tired. We can continue tomorrow." Dhani pulled back, her hand holding yours tightly.

John nodded. "yeah, well nice to meet you, Doctor L/n. Hope we can work together." John winked with a big smile and left.

Dhani sighs. "well that's John Smith for you. He's always excited to meet new people."

(Uhuk..👀 The Doctor)

"seems like he has an energy drink that is always full in his body" You mumbled.

"he's always like that, Y/n..come on. We should go to your room. give me the luggage bag, let me lighten your load. You should rest your legs. No more pressure" Dhani took the luggage bag from your hand and walk with the right hand holding your hand and the left hand pulling the luggage bag.

Not long after, the two of you arrived at a dark brown wooden door. Dhani let go of your hand and looked around before pointing towards the door of the room next to your new room.

"This is your room and next to your room is my room. So if you want anything feel free to knock on my door or just shout my name from your room. I'm a light sleeper so I wake up early for no reason. Sometimes it's because I'm hungry. Or just want to go to the toilet" Dhani explained and pushed the door of your room after she opened the lock.

"tadaa! Your room. It's not much, it's not small but it can still be called a room or home" Dhani flicked the light switch after taking off her shoes and technically the room was bright with light bulbs.

The medium-sized bed next to the window looks neat and clean, a small medium-sized drawer is placed next to the bed along with a wooden table next to it that is well maintained and without decay. Same goes to the carpet in the middle of the room which is dark brown. The wooden floor and cement walls that are painted brown really make the vibes in the room quite calm and cozy. The smell of old books on the bookshelf complements your new room.

"well this is more than enough. I love it" you said sincerely.

Dhani nodded. "yeah, it's cozy right? Best feeling for studying and everything. even more so when it rains." Dhani smiled widely and nudged your elbow.

"I can feel that" you nodded and decided to relax your sore muscles by sitting on the bed. You breathed a sigh of relief. A walking stick is propped up on a wooden table.

Dhani placed your luggage bag near the wooden table and opened the window to let in the breeze.

"well, feel free to shower, meditate or sleep although I prefer to read at this time because come on, who doesn't want to read in this twilight air? It's fresh and good" Dhani suggested and then stretched her hand in the air to try to relax and cracking her sore back.

"well, if you say so. I will try to take your suggestion after I settle in here" you patted your soft bed.

"a solid choice" Dhani said before fishing out her pocket to achieve something. Magically, out of nowhere Dhani took out a piece of paper that was slightly torn from her pocket.

"here" Dhani handed the paper to you.

You took it and looked strangely at the writing on the piece of paper.

'Shambala'

"What is this? a spell?"

Dhani looked at your confused face weirdly. "No, that's the wifi password. We're not savages, lah"

"oh.. thanks"

Dhani nodded. "Well, I better go.. I want to clean myself and eat. If you want to join me for dinner, that's fine."Dhani offered.

you nodded. "that's fine.. I'm not hungry but I'll take your offer after I get used to the new place."

"alrighty, then see you at dinner" Dhani tipped her head goodbye and put on her shoes again before walked out of your room and closed the door.

You look around. Well, here it is. Your new life. After everything you fought, you were finally surrounded in a place like this. cool. The evening breeze gently blew on your face making you wake up from your reverie. You look out the window. The sky is getting darker, the moon is starting to appear and so are the stars. Well this place is quieter than where you live. The place that never sleeps. You pulled out your phone and opened Stephen's message. He still didn't reply. You sighed sadly. You didn't mean to say that to Stephen. You just need a large space to get rid of all this. But you can't run away from problems.

You: take care of yourself and don't be naughty.

You sent the last message then turned off your phone and put it in the drawer next to the bed. You started to throw yourself on the bed with a pleasure groan. And that's how your new 'life' begins.

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̽‿̩͙‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̽‿̩͙‿̩͙‿̩̩̽‿̩͙‿̩͙‿̩̩̽‿̩͙‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̽‿̩͙‘⸊ˎ

If you get Stephen Strange then I get John Smith from Doctor Who. ARGHHH 10TH MY BELOVED IS MINE HERE.

-Dhani <3

[balladofsallyrose]

Country Trip: A Talk With Gram Parsons

Fusion magazine, March 26 1969 {x} transcript ↓

Gram: "There's a very good music scene in L.A., a lot of good musicians have been playing together lately and getting together... but not so much at the whiskey and places like that, as in honky-tonks out in the valley - groups like Delanie and Bonnie, Taj Mahal, the Tulsa Rhythm Review... a lot of funky people coming from the south - Texas, Tennessee, and Tulsa - coming out to L.A. to make a little dough, and they find out that you can't really because there aren't many clubs in L.A. to play at, unless you're the Four Ragas...

Someone: "Actually, there's only one club that's left, you know, and that's the Whiskey. The city has clamped down on dancing - you can not dance in clubs anymore, which just kills the business. The Whiskey is on its last legs fighting to keep the wolf away."

Gram: "What was happening in L.A. was Snoopy's Opera House, Peacock Alley, the Laurel Room, the Prehade, the Palamino, the Ace's Club and the Red Volure, and the Hobo - clubs like that that nobody knows about that are like in the San Fernando Valley, the City of Industry, Orange County, I mean the clubs out in the Valley are really honky-tonks, and they're really funky, and they're nicer than like the honky-tonks in Nashville, because the people there are less liable to rap on you for having long hair - they see more of it - and you can go out there and Boogie all you want. So that's real nice - that's the most positive thing I can think of about L.A. - these places out in the Valley, like out on the Strip itself... with all the people addicted to carbon monoxide."

WH: "You were at Harvard-"

Gram: "Briefly - very briefly."

WH: "But up here with the International Submarine Band, and up here with country and western - and you thought you could do best with it out on the coast, rather than like going back to Nashville and playing around there...?"

Gram: "I wanted to go out where it was warm. I was really tired of the cold - here and in New York - and I wanted to go out to the coast for awhile - 'cause it was warm, and everybody was saying it was nice, and I hadn't been there yet. And in two years I sort of surmised what it was all about, and now I'm ready to go someplace else."

WH: "Is it the Bakersfield influence that comes down to people in the San Fernando Valley-"

Gram: "Yeah, it is."

Someone: "Not really, you know. Bakersfield is sort of its own little thing - Buck Owens, Merle Haggard - and southern California, from L.A. down, has always been a very big country and western thing: located in the little suburban communities like Norwalk, Downing, the Valley - all those places around L.A."

Gram: "But the Bakersfield thing is what really got me into it: like four years ago, I was digging Buck Owens, some of the people like that. I mean, I dug the older country artists before then - but I just got started getting into the real hot, electric thing they had. And I sat around and said it sure would be nice to like do a recording session and have Don Rich come down, and cats like that - that's ultimately what happened before we split there, we got together with all those guys, and we all dig each other. Maybe Liza Williams doesn't know who we are, best they do."

WH: "You yourself were in with Billy James in Laurel Canyon foe awhile, weren't you?"

Gram: "Yeah... enjoyed that you know - a nice thing to do. It's too bad that it couldn't be a little cooler - it couldn't be a little bit cooler... It's all like a great [illegible sentence] don't know who you're talking to... Mod Squad time... you don't know... chick comes on to everybody in the band... I'm beginning to wonder about Hippies in general... You can just tell by looking at a person's eyes... but they got all the gear, the blonde hair, everything, and they're so damn ready... but you don't know... When people on Sunset Strip ask you what your sign is, they're really asking if you're bisexual or not - because the chicks who ask you are the chicks who dig bisexual cats, sort of, and the guys who ask you are the guys who dig bisexual cats, sort of - and and they're asking you what your sign is, because they want to know if you're earthy or firey, or airy, or watery - you know, what are you. Nobody knows anything about astrology there, I mean very few people do. What your rising sign is doesn't mean anything."

WH: "Why not San Francisco?"

Gram: "I hate San Francisco. San Francisco is just the jivest town in the world. It's beautiful, and everyone loves its morning fog that fills the air and everything - but listen, when people start playing the 'Star Spangled Banner' by Kate Smith on the radio just to put down the United States - nothing good can come of it. And San Francisco is the home of the Onk."

Someone: "All the long hair and the Hippie freakery has filtered down no through the entire Establishment and has manifested itself in Onk."

Gram: "Both cities though, have their good and bad points, but they're due for a - I don't know - a lot of people say earthquake; I'd say that both cities are ready to pay a lot of dues, because old people and young people are jiving each other, and not getting together... It's time to get ourselves together. I mean, we can all be positive if we want to - but we've got to really love each other; we can't just do this to each other, you know, all the time. We've got to find a way and be consistent in it, or you're gonna meet with hysteria - and I think that both cities are going toward hysteria.

We're writing a song called 'The San Francisco Gold Rush' right now, and it's on the theory that San Francisco has done approximately the same thing to the music scene in the 60's that Philadelphia did to the 50's, you know, and this is really obvious to me the way that Philadelphia affected Elvis Presley with its satin shirts, and losing the real... I don't mean the clothes that he wore. I just use that to project an image of... Do you know what I mean? Well so there you go; San Francisco has made everyone want to be Ginger Baker, or Eric Clapton, and have ribbons hanging from your shirt and the whole thing. I'm using clothes because clothes are the most obvious thing you can point at... to see what a person is doing. And the other side uses clothes too; Richard Nixon and Governor Reagan see a bunch of little girls in peajackets and wearing Onks, and they think they're the enemies of educational wisdom, you know. Maybe everyone would be a lot safer wearing sequins. We're wearing them 'cause they're bullet proof."

WH: Has Bakersfield been coaslatent all the while?

Gram: "Not really, because country music is going through its fad so rapidly too. I mean, its being affected by the Nehru shirt scene, Glen Campbell, for instance, is a very, very good guitar player - one of the best, but he has been hyped, ruined - destroyed. So many of the country artists are just trying to pick up gimmicks. They always have but they're getting more and more into it - but the same thing with the spades, man, they're getting into a real jive protest scene. They're saying that we are where it's at - you can't have soul unless you're black; and country people are saying you can't have a soul unless you're white unless its one a [illegible word] in it, nothing [illegible word] unless it has a steel guitar. Now I don't go along with that, you see. I think horns are really great and everything, but I want to play with a steel guitar because it's where I'm at now. I love steel. But I'm perfectly willing to listen to B.B. King. The problem is that country radio stations are not playing the real country songs: they're playing "Gentle on My Mind" because they want pop people to get into country music. They think that's the way to do it, but it's not... Yeah, Glen Campbell sang tenor on the International Submarine Band record. He's funky you know."

WH: "What's (James) Burton doing?"

Someone: "Sessions - eighty zillion sessions, you know, work."

Gram: "We run into him a lot. I think he's on sort of the same level that we are, you know; he's eyeing the whole scene very skeptically, and he's a very funky cat-"

Chris Ethridge: "He's got real long hair now, and a beard..."

Gram: "And his brother calls him in the middle of - he called him in the middle of a session Chris and I did with him the other week, looking for a 64 Chevrolet engine in a 49 frame or something... James is really all right, you know, and he's just waiting, he's just waiting..."

Gram: "The Tulsa guys, the Memphis guys - ten years ago, they were playing with Buddy Holly, they were playing with the Crickets, they were playing with Little Richard, they were playing with guys like that; and now they're doing their brand new 1969 thing. It's the same with us. And Jerry Lee Lewis is back, Fats Domino is back - I couldn't be happier. Conway Twitty's back. He's got the hottest new country band around, and he's out of sight. In his own right, he's better than all of us new country groups - 'cause he's paid more dues, he's older. As soon as young kids start digging old funky white artists like they dig old funky black artists... Like they can listen to B.B. King but can they listen to George Jones, they can listen to George Jones, they can listen to Albert King and Ike and Tina Turner, and so on, but can they listen to Conway Twitty... You've got your Otis Redding, but you've also got your Merle Haggard. I suppose that we would correspond and parallel - we would be on the same level as the newest things that are happening in Rhythm & Blues, like down in Muscle Shoals that's our scene. It's a bunch of young white people who are starting to play white music.

You really can't put music in geographical places, because country music probably came out of the Midwest as opposed to the south. But I'd say Muscle Shoals is one of the hottest recording scenes in the United States, and it's one that we relate to more than we relate to Nashville or L.A. We try to make our recording sessions sort of like Muscles Shoals rather than Nashville. We didn't hire a bunch of X musicians, we all concentrated within ourselves on doing it. And we just hung out - and did it together.

Chris Ethridge: "You remember all of those cats that did 'Where Have You Been,' and a real good song, 'You Better Move On' - all of those tunes, remember those tunes? Those were some of the first ones cut down in Muscle Shoals, and that was like ten years ago, or eight years ago. Old Rick Hall, you know, he got himself a studio, and started getting the local cats from around there coming in. And Joe South and Tommy Roe would come in from Atlanta, and they'd cut some stuff, like 'Carol' - do you remember that record 'Carol'? there was a guy in the background going 'Ompah, ompah,' like that; well, that was a farmer from Dewy, Alabama who was a friend of Dan Penn's, and he came up to visit - so they put him on a record; and there he was, you know, he made it.

Gram: "On 'Hippie Boy' ...I mean, the album (The Gilded Palace of Sin) goes from like Everly Bros. cuts to more modern, polished things. But at the end of the album, there's like all of our friends there singing: the GTO's, Joel Scott Hill, Johnny Barbatoes, Henry Louie, Larry March, Bobby McMann - we're all like singing together, 'There'll be peace in the valley.' We had a real good time doing the album.

WH: "The thing is with that song ('Hippie Boy') - the talking kind of country song has the potential for being sentimental, and yet it doesn't become so."

Gram: "Yeah, well - that song - We had the idea from the very beginning; we kept saying, we got to do a song called 'Hippie Boy' about Chicago, and it's got to be a narrative song, and Chris Hillman has to do it; and he has to drink a fifth of scotch before he does it - just to really feel the whole thing; not smoke an ounce of grass - but drink a fifth of scotch and do a narrative. And let's see someone else do that - let's see McGuinn do it."

WH: "It seemed like the toughest challenge of the record."

Gram: "Right, it was. We went through 'Hot Burrito 1 & 2,' and we saw that we had the high polished musical thing by the nuts - we had it and we could do it. My piano playing and organ playing came back to where it used to be, before I was with the Byrds. I started getting funky again, and everybody started getting funky again; and it was time to do 'Hippie Boy' - It was time to end the album. And after we did it, it was time to beat it - it was time to get out of L.A. We would love to have our next album called 'Ray of Hope', you know. We'd like to find some place over in Europe where we're really happy and we write about all the funky nice farmers. We dig to do that; I mean, we are not a negative, put-down group, like people seem to think. They're so uptight about our sequined suits - I just can't believe it. Just because we wear sequined suits doesn't mean that we think we're great. It means we think sequins are great. We think sequins are good taste. Rolling Stone, the Free Press - they think that we're a bunch of... show offs, and we're trying to put everything down. We're merely reflecting everything, because real music is supposed to reflect reality. You can't build a reality in music, you have to reflect it. Like 'original' music was made to get people together - like religious music, to sort of form a bond between you and your ancestors, let's say. In church, you would have music that would make you nostalgic, and think of the oldies times and what the reality really was that has led you up to right now. That's where music's at You can't build your own reality - that's why psychedelic music is so jive; it's every a everybody's own bag. No, I'm sorry, you know, we're all in it together - like it or not.

To do the album in L.A., we had to close ourselves off. When the smog was heavy we had to wear tanks of oxygen, and luckily we were blessed with a fellow named Henry Louie who can just cool out. He's an engineer unlike any engineer I've ever worked with, and projected an attitude of; 'we're not in L.A. boys, we're together.'"

WH: "You had to go through three years of L.A. to do this - with the Submarine Band, and the Byrds."

Gram: "We paid a lot of dues, but we dug it. I mean, while everybody else was going to the Whiskey building up their egos, and everything, we were saying; 'Jesus Christ, man, nobody likes us. Jesus, what are we doing'. In the meantime, we were going out to places like all those clubs I mentioned, and to forget our troubles, we were getting smashed - and rocking 'n rolling every night, you know, just as hard as we could. And after three years, somebody finally bought country music, someone finally bought the Internal Submarine Band - and then they sold the name, and everything; we paid more dues - but country music was being accepted and we didn't care. And now, everybody wants to get on the bandwagon; everybody want to say they're country as Crawdaddy seems to think he is."

Someone: "I don't think he himself is trying to project that image, but that it's imposed-"

Gram: "Oh right, he's always been funky. People hated him when he started out. They said rotten things about him, but now they're trying to project the country scene onto him. And he isn't country. He's a poet-"

Someone: "He's and old fashioned minstrel."

Gram: - "a beautiful poet, but Columbia records does the same thing with him that they did with the Byrds; they hype him. And I don't know, you just can't believe that sort of stuff..."

WH: "Has A & M been good to you?"

Gram: "They have been real good. They've let us follow our concepts, so to speak. I mean, they're in it for the money like every other record company, and if people start buying out records, they'll let us run with the ball. That's all I can say. I don't know what will happen - otherwise, I don't even want to think about it. If I have to pay more dues I'm willing to because I dig honky-tonk, and rock and roll - and being on the street doesn't bug me at all. I don't need to have an image... So it doesn't matter, one record company or the other. When we got together there were a lot of record companies that were eager to sign us - and anything we wanted, they were willing to do - but we just happened to sign with A & M, mainly because of Mike Vosse, who came and got us. I mean, he was actually interested. He didn't set up appointments for us to come and see him; he came and saw us. Tom Wilkes, in the graphics department, was a friend of Chris', you know. So we had a personal contact and they took a personal interest in us. It's not the big executives - like Herb Alpert and everything did - but who cares about big executives? Who knows where they're at anyway? Herb Alpert's a nice cat, he's a brilliant cat, he's got a beautiful smile - and that's all I know."