#doctor strange fanfiction
stephen strange x reader / masterlist
summary; you and wong get tickets to your favourite singer, and drag the sorcerer supreme along for the concert / warnings; bad humour, it was a random idea that just came to me, brief mention of imprisonment, swearing, hinting at sex,
“A Hunk of Hulk of Burning Fudge please.” You smiled at the woman behind the booth, splaying change upon the counter, as you watched her scoop the delicacy into a small and travel safe pot, oozing the green ice cream with a caramel like sauce. “Thank you.”
“You order the same thing every time that we come here.” Stephen rolled his eyes lightly, quirking one of thin brows at you. Rather than denying it, for you both knew that fact was true, you simply shrugged, putting a portion of the avengers flavoured desert into your mouth, with the plastic spoon that accompanied your purchase.
“I am consistent. I think that’s what you were trying to say, and I don’t think you should complain considering my regular pattern of things keeps you... motivated.” Your gaze sternly drifted down to his crotch as you raised your forehead suggestively at the covered body part, sending the message directly to the sorcerer.
“Yes, that is what keeps me motivated. Surely not the need to protect our reality from negative forces that could cause it to plunder into a catastrophe.” In reply, you hummed, a smirk ridden on your face, before your phone beeped. “Who is it?”
“Wong, he’s pissed that we went to get ice cream without him.” Was your answer, as you drifted your gaze over to the counter as you prevailed in thought. “I better get him something, otherwise this weekend is gonna feel like an imprisonment from Surtur. And trust me, I am well versed with what that situation is like.”
“What is happening this weekend?” He asked bluntly, as though he felt left out on some big plot. A grand, rather intoxicating smile danced upon your face, almost cracking the surface like a piece of glass wear.
“We’re going to see Beyoncé!” It practically left you as a scream, your excitement clearly having got the better of you. As passersby walked past, you waved lightly at them, delivering them an embarrassed apology, before attaining your attention back onto Strange. “We have a spare ticket, my friend Darcy kinda pulled out, something about her friend Erik going bonkers again, but... you could come?”
“Me?” He had to repeat the offer, pointing at his chest where the eye of agamotto was hidden beneath his casual attire. It was no secret that you and Wong practically praised the earth for birthing such a beloved icon of the modern age; in fact it was him whom had introduced the singer to both you and Wong.
The pair of you didn’t get that reference, until the two of you delved into some coordinated research online. A part of him regretted ever making a reference about her, since the pair of you were practically obsessed. He was not sure that he’d survive a concert with the two of you, nor that the two of you would live through the performance, it was a rather mundane occurrence for the pair of you.
“No, of course not. I’ll just go and invite the other Stephen Strange; he wouldn’t dare say no to one of my... offers.” You smiled deviously, shovelling more of the fudge flavoured treat, sucking seductively on the cheaply made utensil, batting your eyelashes up at your master.
“Fine.” Stephen sighed, causing you to sigh, and pat the man on the shoulder. He rolled his head back, as he thought of the possible disaster his inclination to say yes would be.
“I knew you’d come around Stephie.” You spoke, handing him the pot of your slowly melting ice cream, pausing a finger upwards in the air, as you began to trail backwards. “Imma get Wong one of those, I’ll be back in a minute.”
“If i was a boy, even just for a day!” At the pitch that you wailed, Stephen winced. Wong was driving, and he was in the passengers seat, he had quite the suspicion that it was indeed not a bottle of water that you had brought along to the show. “Hey, I was listening to that!” You yelled, your voice being targeted at the driver as he fiddled with the track.
“I’m surprised you could hear that over your American Idol audition.” Stephen spoke, watching as your face crinkled, and the song of Wong’s choice had began to play. The sorcerer admittedly had quite a decent time accompanying the two of you, there were no days off with the tasks that you were given the responsibility to protect. Though, there had been a way around that worked out, and thus here the trio of you were, on the way back home.
The beginning of the song Single Ladies bustled from the CD player, and Wong inherently turned it up, watching amusedly as you pouted through the rear view, and crossed your arms. “If you don’t stop insulting me, then you will be a single lady Strange. I can find someone else to put a ring on it.”
“What was that?” He lightly smirked, turning in his seat to face you, as your skin crawled with the remarks of embarrassment. “Did you just admit that you want to marry me?” The man teased, watching as you shook your head, denying his claims that he had clearly heard.
“Nope.” The word popped from your mouth, as you leant against the restraint of your seat belt. “I don’t trust you with purchasing jewellery, you can barely keep track of the items that you wear.”
“I wear the eye of adamotto, the ancient one entrusted me with it. I- where the fuck is it?” His hands raked his chest, scratching the surface of skin below his shirt to find the item. It was gone. One of the most powerful weapons in the universe was lost, and worst of all, at a concert for normal people.
If one of them were to find it, they’d either think it nothing more than garbage, or a sick statement piece that they would brag about to their friends. Or worst of all, they would sell it, for less than it was even worth, since it was priceless, and some big bad would discover it on the shelf on an antique store.
“Language.” Wong muttered as he slipped his gaze only momentarily to the man sat beside him. His face remained void of emotion, but his eyes told another story. He was conflicted whether he wanted to shout at the sorcerer, or try his hardest to remain calm.
“You have to turn back!” The qualified doctor exclaimed, and all of a sudden, Wong performed a U turn, steering in the direction that you all had just come from. “Are you trying to kill us?!” The images of his own accident flashed through his mind, that fault of his own had ended him here, in a flurry of panic.
“If Beyoncé is wearing the eye around her neck, we are forcing her to use it as the cover for her next album. We’ll take some pictures, and then take it.” Wong stated, watching essentially as the man beside him began to bicker, his eyes wide and shocked by Wong’s priorities.
They were supposed to protect the reality, not shape it to their own whim. As they snapped at one another, you felt succumbed by the alcohol that you had subtly consumed, raising your hand to your chest, feeling a chain and a large, sideways diamond shaped pendant against your chest, below the material of your clothing.
Thinking nothing of it, you shut your eyes, and fell into a sleep slumber. Least to say, when you finally awoke with a raging hangover, after they had searched the extents of the stadium, neither of the men were impressed when they saw a familiar shape pressing through your top, mocking them as they established their fury.
“A part of me wishes Beyoncé had worn it.” Wong sulked, as Stephen went to remove the piece from you, but decided otherwise. If anyone could protect the artefact better than himself, it was a very pissed off and hungover you.
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The Stark-Strange Bunch
Harley - rabbit pasture: loyal, responsible, family-oriented, energetic
Peter - stone, small rock: powerful, easy going, excited, courageous
Sophia - the wise: charming, intuitive, confident, sociable
Isaac - ‘he who laughs’: idealistic, loving and kind, loyal, honorable, unsure
Nora - the honorable: determined, ambitious, grounded, family-oriented
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A Shaking Struggle
Pairing: Doctor Strange X Reader (gender neutral)
Description: It’s lunch date time and you pick to go to a Japanese restaurant for sushi. But there is one problem: because of his hands, Stephen can’t use chopsticks.
Warnings: light swearing
Word Count: 1.6K
A/N: THE IDEA FOR THIS HIT ME LIKE A TRUCK AND I NEEDED TO WRITE IT ASAP! IM ACTUALLY SOBBING AT HOW ADORABLLY EMBARESSED HE WOULD BE! Enjoy lol. Also special thanks to my friend Hailey for being my beta reader for this one <3
Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee
Walking through Greenwich Village always gave you excitement, knowing that the New York sanctum was in the area. It was also just a generally nice place to be in the city, so walking on your own to go see Stephen was always relatively peaceful. As you walked, the afternoon sun added warmth to your enthusiasm. Pretty soon you could see the sanctum in the distance, the recognizable window on the roof standing out among the other buildings. After a few minutes, you found yourself on its doorstep ready for your lunch date with its protector.
You woke up to a text from him that morning which said: I’m off in the afternoon, lunch?
No “good morning” or no “how are you this morning?”. Blunt and straight to the point, but still with his charm. You had laughed at it and replied with a simple Okay! and made sure your afternoon was cleared. Most of the time the doctor was occupied with his mystical work, but when free time came up for him he would let you know right away and ask you to hang out.
Before you could knock, you were suddenly already inside with a rush of wind. The split second of confusion passed once you realized you were in Stephen’s office, finding him at his desk behind a book and a cup of tea wearing casual clothes. You regained your balance and held back a laugh.
“Hi!” He said with that cheeky smile, looking like he did not just teleport you from the front door into his office.
“I thought I told you not to do that,” You said, the laugh in your voice coming through. “It’s dizzying.”
“Well, it’s funny.” He gave you an innocent look, one that you could not resist smiling at.
“So, you ready for lunch?”
“Yeah, I just finished up some reading.” He closed the book and put it on a tall stack on the edge of his desk. “Where do you want to go?” He asked before taking a sip of his tea.
“Oh! There’s a sushi restaurant just down the street that I haven’t been to. I heard it’s really good!”
Stephen sputtered into his teacup. A sudden jerk to his hand added to the event, his shaking hand giving out and forcing him to put down the cup. You watched a little tea splash out onto the desk. He cleared his throat and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Stephen looked back up at you, “Yeah, I’m good. Sure, sushi. Let’s go!”
You smiled at him and held back a little noise of excitement. He got up from his desk and came to join you, casually offering you a hand and saying “Lead the way,” before you pulled him off to exit his office and back out into the busy street.
A bowl of miso soup sat in front of Stephen. He had abandoned the spoon and resorted to drinking it right out of the bowl, which he saw you doing as well which brought a feeling of comfort. Staring down at it, he saw his own reflection on the surface thanks to the lighting of the restaurant. It was like staring down into a bowl of his own shame and insecurity.
When you had suggested sushi, Stephen tried not to choke on his drink. Sushi, Japanese restaurant, Asian food. Insecurity had overcome him in a wave. He liked Asian food, loved it, but he did not want to eat it in front of someone else. But he didn’t want to say no to you. The look of excitement in your eyes was something he never wanted to say no to. You looked like you really wanted sushi. So he decided that he had to suck it up.
He tried to distract himself. Talking with you was the best thing he could do for himself, hearing you talk eased him slightly. But he found himself zoning out, forgetting what he had asked you mere seconds ago and some of your words not making sense to him.
Stephen had always been a tad insecure about his shaking hands, often forgetting about it thanks to his mystical work. But he had never been so overcome with the feeling until now. When he was in front of the person that he was so smitten with, one that he wanted to impress and charm.
But the little paper package that was sitting on the table to his right was not going to let him impress you today.
The focus that it requires to steady his hands with magic was difficult to do when he was as nervous as he felt now. Just the presence of you was throwing things off as well, so your existence was not helping at all.
He was a master of the mystic arts and he could not steady his hands because he was too nervous. Goddammit, he thought.
“I’ve been feeling so tired, work hasn’t been kind to me.”
Stephen looked up at you and pretended like he heard everything you said. He nodded while taking another sip of his soup. He tried so hard to naturally steady his hand around the little bowl, but somehow, his hands shook harder. He desperately tried not to spill the soup.
Stephen was caught off guard, “Hmm?”
“You seem tired, too.”
“Oh, yeah. I am. Been busy. Uh, things have been crazy.”
Stephen began to talk about a few things that had come up for him recently. Seeing you genuinely interested in what he was saying, resting your chin on your palm while looking up at him with sweet eyes, was enough to ease his nerves just a little. And the talking helped as well, he made sure to exaggerate just a tiny bit to stroke his own ego.
But then a waiter came over with your orders of food. A litter verity of maki rolls, some nigiri pieces, and tempera pieces in a little basket. The way your eyes lit up made Stephen smile, but there was a hint of hesitation on his face.
Any trace of comfort was gone from him and you were already opening your packet of chopsticks.
Shit, he thought.
He went to pick up his own.
You were so hungry and so excited that you already had your chopsticks ready. Everything looked so good you did not know where to start. You looked between everything, “Okay, what one do we try first?”
You heard the clatter of wood on the table. Looking across the table, Stephen had dropped his chopsticks. There was this look of dread on his face. He then quickly picked them back up again, tore the two sticks apart with a frustrated jerk, and tried to place them in the correct position between his fingers.
He was struggling to even hold them.
Then you realized that for all the time you have known this man, from dating for a couple of months to the time of being friends before that, you have never seen this man with a pair of chopsticks. The reason was obvious once you remembered the state of his hands.
“Do you... do you need some help there?” You asked, words laced with a laugh that threatened to burst out.
“No no, I’m fine.”
You could tell that it was not fine.
He had managed to place each of the sticks in a correct and comfortable position, but it looked like it took some effort to even keep them in place. You seriously doubted he could pick something up with those.
“You sure?” You asked, trying oh so hard not to laugh.
Stephen let out a heavy sigh and put the chopsticks down. “Okay, I promise you I know how to use chopsticks. I just avoid them cause it’s not fun watching me struggle,”
“You could have just told me,” You replied, still desperately holding in a laugh. But the smirk and growing smile on your face was betraying you.
“Cause it’s embarrassing,” He said in a low tone, rubbing his forehead in the self-annoyance.
This poor man had this look in his blue eyes resembling that of a helpless puppy.
“Stephen, it’s okay. You can use your hands. It’s actually considered alright.” You giggled. You put your chopsticks down and picked up a roll with your fingers, just to make him feel more comfortable.
He sighed relief and a weight was visibly lifted from his shoulders. You had not noticed the tightness to him until it was gone, you assumed it was from him being tired from work. He picked up a roll with his fingers himself and you both tried it together. After mutual agreement of how good the food was, you both continued to chat in-between bites.
“When I was first studying in Kathmandu, I was mostly fine because most food is just eaten with your hands. But when it came to chopsticks, I gave up and resorted to spoons and forks.”
“So you were the white guy eating with a fork?” You snickered.
“Hey, I told you. I know how to use them! I’m just physically challenged, okay.”
You finally let that laugh out and he ended up laughing along with you.
“Wait, aren’t you able to steady your hands a little though? Use a bit of magic?”
“Too nervous. Can’t hold it properly.”
You raised your eyebrow, “Doctor Stephen Strange, nervous? Wow, that’s new.”
“It’s your fault.”
“I make you nervous?”
He shrugged shyly.
You found that fact very amusing. That the person he was dating, you, could make him so nervous and make him fear embarrassing himself in front of could break down his huge ego. He’s the cutest, you thought.
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The Blood in Your Veins: 9/?
I keep forgetting to update tumblr when I have a new update, whoops. It's written up to 15, and I have bits of 16 and 17 written out. It's just about getting it all out of my head and onto paper. But we're about halfway done on AO3.
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Relationships: Tony Stark & Stephen Strange, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange. And getting to know a handful of original characters that were needed for the plot.
Some Other Tags: Gen or Pre-Slash, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Kidnapping, Hurt Stephen Strange, Hurt Tony Stark, POV Stephen Strange, Medical Procedures, Palladium Poisoning, Hollywood Science, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-typical resignation to a possibly terminal condition
Summary: An overly-long prompt story written for tumblr’s @ironstrangeprompts #608: Kidnapped to play doctor for a still unseen other prisoner, Stephen realizes there is only one person on the planet who would have palladium in their blood.
Chapter 9: An Oath I've Sworn
As always, Meera immediately took the blood sample from Stephen to analyze once he got back from breakfast with Tony, and Stephen got back to the tediousness of largely slide labeling and data entry for both Jada's and Meera's numerous tests and experiments. They had conducted well over a thousand at this point, that much he knew. But despite the countless hours in trying to find anything to fully counteract the continuous palladium poisoning, a solution better than the lithium dioxide injections had yet to be found, and it was growing increasingly unlikely that anything would be found. Still, they labored on.
About an hour after his return, Meera called at him. He looked over his shoulder as she disposed of her gloves and when she caught his eye, she gestured to her computer. As he came over, she said, "It's not good."
Stephen slowly exhaled at the current numbers and the chart beside it. "Well, we weren't sure if the extra smoothie a day would do much," he pointed out.
"I was hoping it would do something," Meera hissed in frustration. "We both were."
He glanced over at Jada's sleeping form as Meera mentioned her. "It was worth a shot," he said.
"Jada's models expected a steep growth at some point, but it seems too early to me," she continued. "Look—it took him three weeks to get from 0.3 to 0.36, right when we started the lithium dioxide injections. There has been nothing conclusive in his blood and urine tests that point to a weakening kidney, so surely the rate should have remained the same. This jump to 0.45 from the 6th to the 11th made no sense then and makes no sense now. That it's at 0.61 only a week later…" She trailed off and raised her glasses to rub at her eyes.
"At the rate it's going, it will have near doubled in two weeks," Stephen murmured.
"From all my models, the lithium dioxide should have continued to slow it. It makes no sense. Perhaps his body has started developing some sort of tolerance to it?" She sighed. "Increasing the dosage of the lithium dioxide may be the only choice we have here. Does Stark know the risks?"
Read More on AO3
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The Agent and Her Sorcerer
Pairing: Doctor Strange X Fem!Reader
Description: You, an agent who works with The Avengers, comes back to the compound to find that Doctor Strange has brought you coffee.
Warnings: mentions of drinking and doing the dirty
Word Count: 2.4K
A/N: Originally posted on Quotev | Things have been busy, so has mental heath things, so idk when new things will come out. I love this piece tho so I hope this makes up for it.
Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee
Gif by @cumberbatchlives
Technically a sequel to The Sorcerer and The Agent
When you stepped off the jet and onto the landing, you let out a long breath of relief. That field mission was finally over. It was an early call that got you out of bed before the sun came up. Too early for your body to function, but with the encouragement of coffee and Captain Rogers forcing you out of bed, you conquered the task. You checked your phone for the time, it was now around noon. You were ready to sit down, maybe even take a nap. You desperately needed a break.
But you knew you would not be able to rest.
Tony was already on your ass. He came out of nowhere, scaring the life back into you, and shoved a tablet in your hands. "Before you file your report, you got another one."
You groaned, falling into step beside him to make your way into the building. "Already?"
Tony pushed a few things on your tablet and an image came up. It was one of the objects you had recovered from this morning's mission. On the side was a stream of jumbled letters and numbers.
Tony shrugged, with a grin on his face that you wanted to punch off. "Hey, you're best for the job."
"Can't FRIDAY just run through it?"
"Where's the fun in that?"
You glared at him.
"Come on, you got this."
You rolled your eyes, "Fine. Only because it might give us a new lead."
"Atta girl! Don't stress yourself out."
You were already stressed.
"Oh and by the way, someone in the lounge is here to see you."
After a brief moment of surprise, you knew who it was. Tony saw the smile appear on your face, then winked at you. You rolled your eyes at him.
You tucked the tablet under your arm and made your way to the lounge. Maybe you were getting a little break before continuing for the day after all. A small amount of energy that came from your happiness pushed you forwards.
When you got there, sure enough, there he was.
"Hey, I thought you might want coffee."
You chuckled. Of course you wanted coffee.
Stephen Strange had a coffee tray in his hands that had two cups in it. He was standing around looking a little awkward, a little out of place at the compound. He looked relived to see you, as if anyone else in the doorway would made him embarrassed. His serious demeanor was no where in sight, a hint of warmth in his cheeks.
He wasn't wearing his sorcerer robes, but casual clothes. A jacket, dark jeans, sneakers, a t-shirt, simple things that you got to see him in more often now. You liked it. Very much.
Without any hesitation, you made your way over to him. Giving him a big smile the entire way. You put your tablet down so you could take the cup he was holding out for you. "Thank you." Your gloved hands brushed against his bare shaking ones. The contact was enough to widen your smile.
"Don't mention it."
"Hi! How are you? What's new?" You asked him, leaning one hand on a table and sipping your coffee with the other.
Stephen let out a breath, "Well this morning I helped to try and close a dimensional rip in space time. If we hadn't managed to close it then it would have swallowed an entire country."
"Sounds exciting, Doctor." You hid a smirk behind a look of playfully exaggerated interest.
"Oh it was." He was trying to hide a smirk too, "How about you, Agent (L/N)?" His cheek twitched, trying desperately to not let that smirk slide through.
"Well I just came back from a mission in London where an very well hidden Hydra base was found. There were a few of their agents there, kicked some ass, and managed to recover some of their tech and files. You know, normal things."
"This is a very casual conversation despite its content." He commented.
You both broke after that, smirks turning into fits of chuckles. You reached up and kissed him on the cheek.
The two of you were developing into a 'thing' recently. Whenever he would come to the compound, you would have your eye on him. And you could feel his eye on you as well. It had been going back and forth for a while, finding excuses to talk to each other and purposely being in the same room as one another. Casual attraction.
You noticed the little details in him. Taking every opportunity to make a snarky comment during meetings. Dedication and a 'cool calm' overtaking him whenever disusing anything serious. His gaze of sparkling blue, sharp features, and welcoming smile. The very presence of him either made your heart stop or quicken, sometimes both simultaneously.
Whenever you were both having a conversation, whether for work or just friendly chatter, you found yourself entranced by him. His voice, his gorgeous face, his personality. Not casual attraction anymore, you were sightly obsessed.
But there was always this look in his eyes, that he recognized your attraction to him. And a look that told you he had similar emotions. You just knew it. You paid attention to him. You noticed him paying attention to you with interest, catching him staring on occasion.
Things had went from zero to one hundred at a party that Tony threw last week. You had a little too much to drink. Stephen did too. You found yourselves alone. Things escalated from there. You woke up the next morning in his bed in the New York sanctum, cuddled in his arms. You both went out for breakfast that morning. He took you out for dinner a day after.
Ever since then, he shows up at the compound when he can, or calls you to ask how you are doing. Work for both of you has gotten pretty busy lately so finding time to go out together was hard. But you promised each other another date as soon as you both were free.
This was a long time coming, you both knew that. All it took was one little push. But you did not expect that push to be a little alcohol. It happened anyways, so you decided to take it without complaints.
Stephen looked around, making sure no one else was in the room to intrude. After confirming, he leaned down and stole a kiss from you. You giggled and let him, leaning up into him. He pulled away to let you have another sip of your coffee.
He wasn't drinking from his own cup. You felt his eyes on you. It did not take long to figure out why. You were still in your uniform, one that is similar to Natasha's. Black bodysuit, weapons belt. Skin tight. A blush crept up on your face, some memories coming back from that night. He has seen you wearing this before, but now his gaze had a different weight to it.
"Liking the view, Strange?" You asked with a raised eyebrow and mischief glittering in your eyes.
He shrugged, "Now that I know what it all looks like, I like the view even more." Casual. Calm. Cocky.
You playfully smacked him on the shoulder, bringing his hint of a smile into light. Tucking the tablet under your arm, coffee in one hand and Stephen's own hand in another, you pulled him over to one of the couches. The two of you sat down. "I have a little tech and paperwork to do right now. You're welcome to stay while I do it, if you're free."
He relaxed beside you, an arm slinging over the back of the couch. "I've got time. Wong is watching the Sanctum, I have the afternoon off."
"Maybe if I finish early we can go out?" You asked with a perky smile.
He gestured to your open tablet. "Better get to work then." You laughed, quickly kissed him, and did get to work. You explained to him your tasks, the decoding you needed to do and then fill out your mission report file. He seemed interested, looking over your shoulder the whole time as you explained your process. He watched you complete the decoding, send the results to the cloud, and start typing away at your morning's mission report.
Stephen's presence behind you the entire time was comforting, taking away some of the stress of your busy work. His warmth and the smell of coffee in the air made you content. You felt him start to fiddle with the tails of your hair, you jokingly swatting him away before he went right back to it.
During the breakfast date, and the dinner date, you saw more little things about him you liked. There was curiosity and interest in his eyes. Behind that serious shell was gentleness and kindness, a full heart who thinks for others. It was like after that night, you got to see the real Stephen Strange, not the Sorcerer Supreme. He was a gentle lover, even drunk, making sure you were comfortable the entire time. Eating out together, he was a gentleman. Seeing him around the compound, he seemed to be smiling more.
You never knew the great Doctor Stephen Strange was a total softy. It made you like him even more.
While writing, you found yourself putting extra care into reviewing the mission and its details. This may have been caused by knowing Stephen was watching your every move and you wanted to make a good impression of your work ethic. You made sure to skim through for any mistakes or typos in your writing as well. After some time, discarded cups on the coffee table and Stephen now subtly nuzzling your neck, you submitted your report.
"Do you have to do that after every mission?" The man who was practically wrapping his entire body around yours on the couch asked.
"Yeah. That was one of the longer ones. Most things were more straightforward this time around, but I did a lot in London today." You heaved a sigh, momentary wiggled out of Stephen's arms to plunk your tablet down on the coffee table, and relaxed back into the couch.
"Have anything else to do?" He asked.
"Not currently." You turned to him, now giving him your full attention. He seemed to like it.
"Well then, maybe you and me can go grab lunch?"
"I'd like that."
You watched his eyes dip down, briefly glancing at your lips before looking back up at your eyes. You caught him. This told you what he was thinking about, and soon you were thinking about it yourself. And then you were doing it. One of his hands rested on your cheek, the other found your waist as he kissed you. Your hands tangled around his neck and up into his hair gently.
It was like you lost track of time. You just focused on Stephen, a hand of his running over the fabric of your tight uniform.
"I'm glad Tony threw that party."
You and Stephen urgently parted at the interruption. Standing in the doorway, Steve and Natasha had smug grins. They were still in their uniforms from the mission, Steve's shield strapped across his back. You groaned.
When you told only one person that you went home with Stephen that night, it had spread through the compound like wildfire. Your coworkers all knew, and they were relieved. Finally, they had said. You must have not noticed how obvious you and Stephen's electric stares and intrigued chatter were.
You were a little embarrassed at being caught making out, but the embarrassment practically radiated off Stephen. He immediately straightened upright and cleared his throat. Apparently he did not show his vulnerable side to anyone but you, him instantly clicking back into a neutral expression when facing someone else.
Nat got right to the point, ignoring the irritated look on your face, "We got a new lead. There was a new location marked in one of their files found in London. Venice. We leave in thirty."
A frown glazed your features. You were really looking forward to spending some time with Stephen again. You looked at Stephen, who shared a mutual disappointed look in his eyes. But you knew that he would go let you work. It was annoying.
It wouldn't hurt to ask. Would it?
You stood up from the couch, grabbing your tablet to pull up your report again. You strided towards your bosses, a lick of confidence in your posture.
"Um actually I was kinda hoping if I could get the rest of the day off." You sang.
Steve let out a breath in a smug laugh, while Nat was hiding one of her own.
With a smile, you handed Nat your tablet, the mission report on the screen. Clean, detailed, care put into it, reflecting your hard work you had accomplished all morning. You saw her eyes look it over, the captain leaning in to do the same.
"You did work hard this morning." Steve pointed out.
"And you did eventually save our asses in the end." Nat added.
As you said to Stephen earlier, you did kick ass during the mission.
You gave them a look of hope. It was obvious what you wanted, they both knew it. For some reason you felt like they were lengthening the moment to tease you. To leave you in anticipation.
After what felt like minutes instead of seconds, the two turned to each other and exchanged expressions. Steve nodded. Natasha handed back your tablet.
"Go play with your sorcerer and his magic hands." Natasha whispered to you with a wink. A deep blush crept up onto your neck, and you saw her smirk. Scrunching your face up in a mock sneer, you snatched your tablet back.
"Have fun, you two." Steve said as a goodbye, and him and Natasha left the lounge to get ready for part two of today's investigation.
You turned back to Stephen. He had an impressed look on his face. Now standing, he threw away your empty coffee cups in a nearby bin."You didn't have to do that, you know."
"Too bad. Already did." You shrugged, sauntering back over to stand in front of him.
Stephen gave you a smile, and opened a slingring portal right in front of you both. "Then lets go."
You put down your tablet and went to empty your weapons belt. "I'm still in uniform, Stephen." You laughed, "I should go change first."
The sorcerer snapped his fingers, and your skintight Avengers uniform turned into a pair of leggings and a blouse. An outfit Stephen had complimented you on last week. You were surprised he remembered it.
You rolled your eyes at him, and before you could say anything, he grabbed your hand and pulled you through the portal.
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Title: You Come to Me Wild and Wired (chapter 11)
Rating: M (sex)
Relationships: Loki/Stephen Strange
Major Archive Warnings: none
Word Count: 1265
Summary: This is the last time Loki comes to the Sanctum to fulfill this particular need. He doesn't want to belong to anybody. The problem is, every time is the last time, and here he is again.
Written for today’s @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt, the last time
read it here!
Hesitantly, he puts an ear to the door. Humming comes from inside, rising and falling on the sound of the shower. Loki knows that voice so well, knows each note it can hit. He opens the door quietly, shuts it just as silently, and leans back, hips jutting out, arms folded across his chest.
The water stops. The shower curtain opens. Stephen Strange’s eyes fall on Loki, and he makes a noise that Loki will remember to bring up at parties for the foreseeable future.
“I thought you were a baritone,” Loki drawls.
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Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV)
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s), Helmut Zemo/Original Female Character(s), Stephen Strange & Original Female Character(s)
Characters: Stephen Strange, Loki (Marvel), Wong (Marvel), Helmut Zemo, Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes, Sharon Carter (Marvel)
Additional Tags: Grief/Mourning, Post-Canon, Canon Divergence - Thor: The Dark World, Canon Divergence - Avengers (2012), Love Triangles, Psychological Trauma, Alcohol, Psychotropic Drugs, Shameless Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Love/Hate
Passions can be hard to square, but sometimes even the worst desisions can make us wo through it. Mixed details from Avengers, Thor trilogy and Endgame besides the bran new series (Falcon and Winter Soldier). A lot of references for the original character.
”why dont you talk much?” because i have no one to talk to cause yall are on your phones and when i get my phone out to read some fanfics that gives me The Good Vibes™ you tell me “why are you on your phone? drop it and talk to us!
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“why are you always on your phone?” the fictional characters are providing me with the endorphins, serotonin, and other things i need while i read as they comfort me in times of need while all you do is insult my interests and tell me im too sensitive
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Universe in a Jar, 4 - Phase 4 fic
Recap: Some days ago, I reblogged this post about the magical trio. And then my brain went off on a monumental tangent and, I wrote Universe in a Jar.
Characters: Stephen Strange, Loki, Wanda Maximoff, Wong, OC
Warnings: Language! Mentions of sexual encounters, sarcasm, terrible storytelling, and typos prob.
Summary: Baby-sitting beings arguably more powerful than him goes awry for Doctor Strange. He knows one person who can possibly keep them isolated and out of trouble. Well, he knew someone who could… he hasn’t seen them in decades and for stupid reasons.
Persephone stepped lively out of the portal and gave Wong one last haphazard wave before dropping her book hoard onto the kitchen table. Wanda didn't even look over her shoulder from the pot of oatmeal she was stirring at the sound, despite the fact Stephen started slightly at the booming thud. Seph threw herself into one of the wooden chairs, cross-legged, only to find that she was hovering slightly above the seat as the cloak fluttered around her. After a gentle stroke of the fabric, she grabbed the leather-bound tome at the top of the pile and opened it to the first page.
Wanda gave a yawn and started ladling oatmeal into bowls. "What did Wong say?"
"Not much. Just that Stephen was an unobservant idiot," Seph quipped back, turning the page, devouring the words on the page as if they were to be taken away from her at any second.
"So, nothing new, then?" The two exchanged a smile, but Seph remained silent.
Stephen made an offended noise like a strangled scoff. "I am still standing here." He threw himself into another chair with an undignified pout, only to have Seph blindly pat his hand. "That is in Sumerian. How are you even reading it?"
That comment was enough for her to raise her eyes up at the surly Sorcerer with a question in her eyes. "What?" She stared at the page for a long time before humming acknowledgment. "Hm. I guess you're right." She shrugged and continued her reading, leaving Stephen to make an exasperated noise.
"How can you read it?"
She scrunched her nose. "I don't know. I just can."
Wanda flicked her hands and all the books floated up above their heads. "Food first, reading after." Seph stared at the surface of the oatmeal with a certain hesitation. "I asked Stephen how to make it."
The hesitation on her face turned sheepish at the clarification. "Oh. Thanks, Wanda."
"You're welcome. I need to keep myself occupied and I feel bad for imposing on you like this," she replied, sitting down with her own bowl at Seph's other side after sliding one toward Stephen.
"You're not imposing. I should probably get out a little more, as it is." She smiled, stirring her breakfast absently. Hazel eyes cut briefly sideways, watching Stephen shovel a spoonful of hot cereal into his mouth. He did a double-take when he caught her gaze briefly and smiled before giving her the smallest of nods, unbeknownst to the other occupant. A spoonful of her own promptly went into her mouth, leaving her to determine whether she was going to be able to finish this bowl. While it was a little on the sweet side, it wasn't eliciting the same headache-y response other attempts at food had done. "Is Loki still asleep?"
"Pretending to be," Wanda responded. "I don't think he actually sleeps this much, but he likes keeping to himself in the mornings. Why?"
"He asked to see the flowering greenhouse. I was going to take him for the early blooms."
"That's sweet. He's certainly a contradiction, isn't he?" Wanda looked like she had more to say, but opted to look between Stephen and Persephone with an inquisitive eye.
Stephen scoffed. "Not the word I'd use."
"That's because you're salty. That is not his fault, Steve."
"I'm not salty–" Both women leveled a disbelieving stare at him. "–I just wonder what he has to do for you two to see he's trouble."
Seph put down her spoon and leaned against the table. "So, you're upset we think he's a good person even if he hasn't lived a perfect life while simultaneously being annoyed at you for making mistakes, even when you've lived your life in what you perceive to be utter perfection?"
Stephen shifted in his seat, his shoulders tightening in on themselves with discomfort. He avoided her gaze as he pushed oatmeal around his bowl, silent.
"Shit, you're good," Wanda muttered, smiling into her coffee.
Pushing another spoonful into her mouth, she reached out to him, again. This time her hand lingered on his and she continued her breakfast eating with her non-dominant hand. After a few extra minutes of silence, steps thudded down the old, creaky staircase and Loki swept into the kitchen like a hungry storm. He walked around the table, stopping to press a kiss on Persephone's crown, on his way to the stove.
Stephen made to slip his hand away at the gesture, only to find that 1. Seph tightened her hand around his, and 2. he actually couldn't will his hand to move, despite his desire. A cursory look around to room showed him that Loki was still dealing at the stove and Seph had managed to fish her book down and propped it to float at eye level while she ate. Wanda was the only one smiling to herself, looking up only when Stephen's glare was too heavy to ignore. He mouthed an irate stop it only to have her shrug like nothing was the matter.
Loki took his seat on his other side, glancing around the table with an impish grin. "Oh, are we holding hands, today?" He grasped Stephen's other hand, paying no mind to the spoon in it, and tucked into his own breakfast. "I can't say we've ever held hands, darling. A shame, considering we've held pretty much everything else of each other's, haven't we, Sorcerer?"
The man in question stiffened, eyes falling closed with a heavy sigh. Wanda and Seph looked up from their tasks, and at each other, before turning back at them with curiosity. "I have to–your carrots are overdue…" he muttered quietly, pushing his chair back and finding he could move at will, once more. He fled the kitchen as quickly as he could.
Seph departed from her text to glare across the table. "Loki–"
He waved her serious tone away. "It's only sex. There is no reason to be so touchy. Truly."
"He doesn't like being reminded of mistakes."
Loki laughed, hand over heart in mock offense. "Ouch, kitten. Low blow."
She rolled her eyes. "Just… there's enough tension in this house, as it is. Don't antagonize him, please."
"I make no promises," he retorted with a wolfish grin before taking a spoonful of porridge. "What have I missed? What's all this?" He gestured the floating books and the cloak wrapped around her.
"I could show you if I had Stephen's slin–" Loki twisted his hand and produced the ring out of thin air. "Is that why you were holding his hand?" Loki shrugged, but smiled, nonetheless, tossing the ring in the air. Seph caught it easily and slipped it around her fingers. The walls lit up in bright sigils for Loki to peruse.
"Quantum magics. How pedestrian."
"Ass." She smiled to herself and pulled the ring off, pinning it in the waistband of her pajamas.
"Oh." He sounded more amused this time around. "Now this. This I can get behind." He watched curiously as the sigils sizzled and settled into the fabric of reality. "Asgardian, Vanir, Jotunn, Celtic, Elemental, Chaos, Eldritch–how worried are you about your safety, pet?" He pondered over a bite of breakfast. "Or is it a linguistic error?"
Wanda frowned. "Linguistics?"
"Security for safety." He tilted his head and fluttered his fingers, symbols rearranging themselves in the ether. "You longed so hard for a place to feel at home, secure, that you essentially made yourself a fortress. Fascinating."
"I'm glad my emotional trauma makes for an interesting study."
"Says the woman who just psychoanalyzed the most annoying man on Earth into silence," Wanda teased, standing with her empty bowl and mug and placing them into the dishwasher.
"I can't help it. I've been doing it all my life. If figuring out Stephen Strange to save him from himself paid dividends, I'd be a fucking millionaire by now."
"Nice to know the conversation is still on me," Stephen quipped as he dropped a basket of carrots on the table, dirt caked on his arms and smudged on his face. "And maybe if you'd gone into a better specialty, you'd be a millionaire."
"Aww, but who would oversee your mandated psych hold when you finally crack under the weight of your own expectations?" She flashed him a saccharine smile that made the corners of her eyes crinkle.
Despite Stephen's best efforts to remain stone-faced, he smirked. "Well, you got me there, Peep." He glanced at Loki. "My ring."
The Asgardian smirked. "I do not have it, Strange."
Persephone whistled, holding his sling ring aloft while she turned a page with her other hand. Stephen reached to retrieve his ring. Seph did not release it immediately. Instead, she slid a scrap of paper to hold her place and looked up at him. "You want some help? Gathering my crops or do you have some weird, period movie-style brooding to do in the fields?" He nodded. "OK. You stay here, buddy." With gentle hands, she coaxed a reluctant cloak off of her shoulders, only able to shrug it off with the promise that she'd be back later.
Pulling on her boots at the door, she followed Stephen onto the sun-dappled green fenced-in with chicken wire. They kneeled in neighboring rows and worked silently for a while, stopping every so often to straighten their backs and stretch. It was a companionable silence that fell between them, only the sound of earthmoving and vegetables being tossed into large baskets cutting through their thoughts.
"You know, Loki had already mentioned it to me."
Stephen frowned, loosening the dirt around a particularly stubborn carrot. "Mentioned what?"
"That you two had a fling."
He snorted. "Fling is a strong word for what we did, Peep."
"Quickie hate sex, then. I was being delicate." She smirked. "Unlike you and Mischief."
"Is there a point to this conversation? Other than reminding me of my poor judgment."
"You don't have to feel awkward about who you sleep with, Stephen."
"I don't feel awkward that I slept with him. I feel awkward that it was a topic of discussion at breakfast. And why were you talking about that with him, anyway?"
"He was curious if we had ever hooked up. Something or other about collecting a full set."
He breathed in, stretching his neck side to side to disguise the little bubble of irritation that rose within him. "Oh, so you slept with him?"
It was her turn to laugh. "Fuck no. My life is as complicated as I want it right now. Sex with a demigod sounds like everything I don't need. Why? Was he any good? Is this a Yelp review?"
"I am not talking to you about this."
"Oh, come on! We've told each other worse!"
"Exactly! I still can't the image of Zach Curtis sobbing while they wheeled him off to the hospital. It's been twenty-six years!"
Seph hummed, lost in thought. "Yeah, that was a pretty bad day."
"Aggressive technique. Poor kid was in agony for a month."
"He kept saying 'harder'! I got annoyed," she defended vehemently, throwing a clod of dirt in his direction. "I bet Loki would like that."
"He would not," he riposted, automatically, only catching himself after the fact when she gasped. "Fuck. Not another word. Besides, you punched Zach in the balls so hard you gave him torsion. No one wants that."
"Is he secretly very gentle and sappy? Needs to be nurtured? Come on, give me something!" He remained quiet, stacking his accumulated carrots in the basket before digging his hands back to the earth. "You're no fun."
After a long while, he mumbled. "If you want to know, jump him yourself."
She shrugged. "Maybe I will."
"Fine. Go right ahead." Despite the message, his tone sounded unconvinced.
Persephone piled the last of her carrots into her basket, stood, and dusted off her knees. She hefted the basket and balanced it on her cocked hip. "Why are you even doing this by hand? Don't you have some impressive universe-bending powers?"
"It's soothing. And quiet," he shot her a look, "most of the time."'
"What do you need to be soothed about?"
He didn't turn his eyes away from the clod of dirt he was breaking apart. "I spent five years inside the Soul Stone. Aware that time had passed but with no way to understand why. Worried out of my mind for the people with me and the people outside. Worried my plan would fall through and we'd be stuck there forever. Half the Universe, stuck there forever because I could not make our one chance come through. I have a few things."
With a sigh, she put the basket down beside his and sat cross-legged between the rows. "I'm sorry. I was being a brat."
"It's not your fault, Seph. You didn't bring Thanos." He shot her a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Managing my feelings isn't your job, anymore."
"It never was my job, Stephen. I did it because I cared. I still do."
He looked over, deadpan. "You tried to kill me."
"Yes! I was upset and heartbroken and I still couldn't get over the fact that I cared for you. And despite the fact that I tried to kill you, you still checked up on me because I had a nightmare." She sighed. "Let's face it. We're stuck with each other. No matter how far we try to run, we always come back to each other."
With a heavy sigh, Stephen sat back onto the dirt, folding his legs up so he could rest his arms on his knees. When he looked up, Persephone recognized a familiar sort of ache in his eyes. It was the same pain whenever they were going in for a test he didn't feel prepared for, or his first ER rotation where barely had a chance to think before reacting.
"I-I don't know what I'm doing, Seph. I'm supposed to be in charge of protecting reality and I haven't got a goddamn clue wha–" He sighed, hanging his head.
One of her hands grasped at his, and his head snapped back up. The vision of his shaking digits in hers had him pulling back. Her own, faster hands closed around his before he could slip away.
"Don't do that, Stephen." She smiled. "You can probably still suture faster than I can."
Something like a smile tugged at the very corner of his mouth. "Probably. You were always a slowpoke."
She rolled her eyes, though an affectionate squeeze went through his hand. "We're going to figure it out, Stephen. I promise."
"You'll help me?"
"Of course. Lord knows you have no authority over those two. At least they listen to me."
"Thanks, Peep." Sincerity rang clear in his words.
"You're welcome, hon." He smiled, then, at the long-forgotten term of endearment. "Come on, before Loki eats me out of house and home. Maybe I can get a vegetable in him," she added easily, gesturing the carrots.
Title: You Come to Me Wild and Wired (chapter 10)
Relationships: Loki/Stephen Strange
Major Archive Warnings: none
Word Count: 1193
Summary: Loki didn't do much good with his life, so he tries to do something decent with his death. The problem is, Helheim is cold—and most of all, it's boring.
Written for today’s @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt, cleansing of the soul
read it here!
Or maybe he’s cold because he’s, you know. Dead.
It hadn’t been glorious enough, apparently. At least, he has to assume so, since he’s in Hel, not Valhalla. Who makes the rules, exactly, about what constitutes glorious and what constitutes regular old dying? Who knows. No one here. His fellow dead are dull.
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Wanda: after WandaVision, before Doctor Strange 2
Fandom: MCU, Wanda Maximoff, WandaVision
Word-count: 206 words.
The Darkhold has a pull to it. An undeniable vicious aura. Wanda could feel it, but wasn’t quite sure what she should do about it.
“Let it be”, part of her said, as she walked among trees of the mountains, taking in the breeze. She was growing more powerful everyday with this unexpected resource.
She thought of the witch she took it from. Her words remained imprinted in her, as a repetitive lullaby: “you’re the Scarlet Witch”. At that time, an obscure concept to her, but as she learned from Darkhold everyday through astral projection, the blurriness of it all was slowly fading.
A being of spontaneous creation, the witch said, powered with chaos magic; supposed to exceed even the Sorcerer Supreme...
She remembered hearing that term briefly, at Stark’s funeral. Someone pointed to her a man, tall and pale, dark-haired with a goatee. Her brows wrinkled as she concentrated on trying to remember his name, but nothing came except a profound impression about his strangeness.
If the sorcerer supreme was the authority between beings like her, as implied by its title, should she then pursue him for guidance?
And if he were to find out about what happened in Westview, what would he do?...
English is my second language and I’m trying to improve my writing in it (and in general), so if you’d like to respectfully give me feedback through message or ask, I would appreciate it!
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𝐌𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞
Summary: Wanda is worn out, but y/n knows what to do.
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x gn!reader
Word count: 381
A/N ~ little Wanda drabble bc she's the loml. Also, this gif is so cute.
Wanda burst through the door to your shared room, obviously having just gotten off from a mission. Her hair was all messed up and there were a couple of small cuts on her face. She slumped as she walked over to the bed and threw herself down next to you.
“How was the mission?” you asked, as you put down the tv remote, pausing your channel surfing.
Wanda said something, but it was muffled by the pillows and sheets. She rolled over onto her back and stared you straight in the eyes. “I don’t wanna talk about it,” she said.
“I’m sorry, Lovee. Want me to draw you a bath and then we can watch a movie?” You asked her with a warm smile.
She sat up and pointed a finger at you, “You are a lifesaver,” Wanda breathed out.
You got up from the bed and ran off to the bathroom to get the bath running. You poured the lavender-scented bubble bath into the running water and watched it rise with bubbles. Moving away from the tub, you lit a couple of candles and placed them strategically around the bathroom. You admired your work before exiting the bathroom.
When you entered the bedroom, Wanda was leaning against the pillows with her focus attached to the ceiling.
“Lovee,” you whined. “You’re dirty, you’re gonna get the sheets dirty, too.”
Wanda bit her lip before motioning for you to come to her. You reluctantly obliged and trotted over to her. You stood in between her legs and ran your fingers through her hair. She looked up at you through her eyelashes, “so how about that bath?”
You leaned down and pecked her lips before grabbing her hand and pulling her into the bathroom. Both of you took your clothes off one by one; there was no need to rush. Tonight was all about relaxation, and that’s what you were gonna do.
You got into the tub first, laying your back against the side and placing your arms on the rim of the tub. Wanda got in next and sat with her back right up against yours. She rested her head on your shoulder and closed her eyes, letting a soft, content sigh escape her lips.
You giggled slightly. “Feel better?”
“You have no idea.”
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I'm a Doctor! (Doctor Strange x Reader Part 8)
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Pairing: Doctor Strange x fem! Reader
Series: It’s all a Little Strange, Chapter 8 Masterlist
You woke with a start and sat up before you even registered what was happening. It only took a second for you to recognize that you were in one of the hospital rooms and that the rapid beating was coming from a heart monitor hooked up to you. “Oh no.” You groaned and buried your face in your hands.
The door opened and a nurse entered, “oh good, you’re awake.”
“How long was I out.” You demanded and pulled at the heart monitor node.
“Leave that in sweetie.” The nurse walked towards you and put a hand to stop you from taking out the sensor.
“I said, how long was I out?” you dictated again.
“A few hours.” She answered.
“Stephen.” You breathed and jumped out of the bed after successfully pulling off the heart monitor node.
“You’re not supposed to-”
“I’m a doctor!” you shouted and ran out of the room. You darted through the maze of halls that you found yourself in. Luckily for you, it was one of the wards that you were familiar with and you made your way through with ease. You found yourself in the ER ward when a voice stopped you.
“(f/n)! What are you doing out of bed?” Christine scolded.
“I have to find Stephen.” You looked around wildly in search for the tall man.
“You don’t understand.” You gripped at her tightly, “I need to find him.”
“You’re going to pull out your stitches.” She reprimanded you, “the damage was in your stomach, you can’t risk making it worse.”
“Christine! Where is he?” you shouted.
She mulled it over for a moment and then took your hands off of her body, “follow me.” She led the way through the ER section. “There’s a portal open in the mop closet. Last I checked, Stephen was still there.” She explained.
“Thank you Christine.” You sighed gratefully.
She tsked, “how much damage did you cause back there?”
“I probably freaked out the nurse who came in when I woke up.” You described, “I think the last thing I did was scream ‘I’m a doctor’ at her.”
“First Stephen, now you?” she questioned in amazement, “you’re not superhuman (f/n), you’re going to have to let that wound heal.”
“I can’t.” You shook your head vigorously, “there’s a war going on. I need to be there.”
Christine stopped walking and glared at you, “I swear (f/n), if I need to lock you up in one of the rooms over there to make sure you heal I will.” She threatened.
“Don’t do that.” You pleaded as she opened the door to the mop closet.
“You’re okay.” A deep voice interrupted your conversation.
“What? You thought I wouldn’t be okay?” you sassed back, already irked by Stephen Strange.
“No, it’s not that,” he denied, “I’m just relieved that you are.”
You smirked, “it’s going to take more than a stab wound to take me down! Serious business though, what happened with Kaecilius?” you demanded.
“He escaped.” Stephen shook his head, “I don’t know how, I just returned and the thing-”
“The thing?” you interrupted.
“Uh...the metal thing on the wall. I threw it at Kaecilius and it trapped him?” Stephen tried to explain, “it was left there open and Kaecilius was gone.”
You sighed and sat down on an upturned pail and rubbed your face in your hands, “it’s okay.” Stephen gave you a dubious look, “no, I’m serious. It’s fine Stephen, we’ll catch him another way. You did good, capturing him in the Crimson Bands. That gave us time to regroup and prepare.” Stephen just hummed dubiously. You put your hand in your pocket but realized your sling ring was no longer there, “oh no! My sling ring! Where’d it go?”
Stephen held out his hand with your sling ring, “Christine gave it to me.”
“I just assumed it was important and that you didn’t want to lose it.” She explained.
“Thank you.” You smiled and hugged her then turned to Stephen, “shall we go?” You held out your hand and the first portal disappeared as you formed another portal to Kamar Taj. “Did you and Christine ever sort out the problem going on between the two of you?” you questioned and pointed at the two of them.
“Well..." he awkwardly looked at Christine.
“In that case, I’ll let you two settle your domestic.” You waved and made your way over to the portal, “freaking Mordo. Should bring him here, then he’ll know what a domestic really is.” You muttered under your breath and jumped through the portal. Behind you, you heard Stephen stifle a chuckle. A few moments later Stephen jumped through the portal and you closed it behind him. “There’s no way you settled your problem.” You looked at him dubiously as the two of you strode through the building.
He shrugged and didn't answer.
You shook your head. As much as you wanted Christine and Stephen to make up, there was a war that was going on and you knew your priorities. Besides, a small part of you didn’t want the two of them to make up. As horrible as it sounds, you wanted to have Stephen by your side. Not Christine’s. You...might’ve had a change of heart over the past few months. In your eyes, he was no longer an egotistical arrogant prick. He was, well, someone whom you wanted to spend your life with. Perhaps you’ve fallen for Doctor Stephen Strange.
You glanced at the man beside you and your heart skipped a beat. Yep, you’ve fallen for him. You then noticed a red cloak that wasn’t there before. “Wait,” you gasped, “is that the Cloak of Levitation?”
Stephen nodded, “I’m told it’s a fickle thing?”
You looked at Stephen incredulously, “yeah. It is.”
“So Mordo talked to me,” Stephen recounted, “the London Sanctum has fallen.”
“No surprise there,” you agreed.
“And he asked me to be the Master of the New York Sanctum.”
“What about Daniel?” you asked, “he’s the Master oh-” you trailed off as you came to a realization and looked to Stephen in hopes that you were wrong.
“I’m sorry (f/n).” He answered mournfully.
“I, uh,” you were stupefied, “what’d you say?”
“I said no. I can’t kill again.” He shuddered, “I killed the other zealot. Did you know that?” he looked at you carefully.
“No, I didn’t know that.”
There was a moment of silence and Stephen looked at you expectantly, “is that it? That’s all you’re going to say?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“You’re not aghast? Offended? Disgusted?”
“No.” You frowned, “why would I be?”
“(f/n)! We swore a doctor’s oath! The oath to do no harm! I just killed a man!” Stephen shouted.
“Okay okay, Stephen.” You stopped walking and placed a calming hand on his shoulder, “calm down okay?”
“How can I be calm?” he gesticulated furiously and turned to you, “I just killed a man!”
“Okay Stephen, breathe, breathe.” You placed both of your hands on his shoulders and turned to fully face him, “breathe with me okay? In,” you took a deep breath, “out.” You let the breath out, “in, out.” Stephen didn’t respond and continued to stare defiantly at you, “come on Stephen. Do it with me, in, out.” He rolled his eyes but relented and took deep breaths with you.
“You didn’t hear the Ancient One and Mordo.” He explained quietly and he hung his head, “they thought they knew me. They thought they could see right through me. ‘You became a doctor to save one life above all others. Your own.’” He looked up and met his furious gaze with your alarmed look, “do they chastise you like that too?” he demanded.
You bit your lip and looked away, “I’m sorry Stephen.” You took a step back and took your hands off of his shoulders, “I can’t answer that question.” You turned away and continued down the hallway without Stephen.
“Can’t?” you froze, “or won’t?” Stephen asked. You shook your head and walked down the hallway without a backwards glance.
Tags: @panhoeofmanyfandoms @daydreamer-in-training @marine-captain-deku @turkisherlockian
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Writer: CSI Clue
Misc. Comics: Doctor Strange
Title: You Come to Me Wild and Wired (chapter 9)
Relationships: Loki/Stephen Strange
Major Archive Warnings: none
Word Count: 1105
Summary: Did Loki know better than to take on an entire army of demons by himself? Probably.
Did it stop him from doing it? Absolutely not.
Written for today’s @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt, in your arms.
read it here!
He’d come to New York to see Strange. But Strange wasn’t there, so pizza had been his back-up. And then the demons had shown up. Loki had expected that to summon Strange. It hadn’t.
He was getting worried. Not about himself. About Stephen.
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A peculiar case
Started this all the way in March and finally finished. I can't promise a chapter two though :[ hope you enjoy this tidbit though!
London, England 1897
221b baker street - Sherlock's office
Holmes sat at his large fireplace, his eyes fixed on the amber like flames that cracked and sizzled. Today had been suspiciously quiet but in a way the detective enjoyed the small time to think clearly to himself. His body leaned into a more bent over position, his elbows rested on his knees as one hand was brought towards his mouth where his pipe was caressed in his hand nearly towards his lips.
Sherlock was heavy in thought even with no case on his hands he was busy nursing his racing mind. His eyes fixed on those flames as his brows furrowed, taking a moment to glance at his pocket watch. Patience Holmes. Just as the watch ticked past another minute there was a brief yet light knock on the door before it creaked open.
"And right on time!" Sherlock chimed turning his attention towards the doctor who had slowly entered the living area. Watson.
"Ah, keeping time on your mind?" Watson quizzed adjusting his dress jacket and lightly smiling towards his best friend. As he approached, he reached in his pocket noting that Holmes was observing his every move before he gingerly brought a folded letter from his pocket.
"We have a case after all?" Holmes asked, raising one brow as he lifted himself from his recliner to stand in front of his assistant. To which Watson briskly nodded, extending the letter to Sherlock's already open palm watching as Holmes took the note briefly turning to his fireplace to read the writing.
A quick scan of the details and the detective seemed mixed in how to react, the case sounded quite peculiar with the content. It was brought to his attention that Doctor Henry Jekyll had been found dead in his office poisoned by his own hand and yet in the body of a murderous man. Mr. Hyde. Yes, he indeed recalled the month where London was screaming and in a flurry of fear amongst the murder of Sir Danvers Carew it threw the city in chaos.
"Do you know what our last two cases have in common?" Sherlock responded plainly his body turned back towards the shorter man as he puffed his pipe awaiting James' retort or deduction. Being respectfully quiet to listen and observe.
Watson blinked and looked to the side, rethinking to the past few weeks trying to recall what they had investigated. He gazed back to the detective, an intrigued yet expression mixing on his face. "Doctor's? And if I presumed correctly..you are referring the murder weapon from the last case a few months ago?" He queried, pausing yet Sherlock grinned nodding along snapping his fingers to signal something like 'correct.'
"Precisely Watson! Right on the mark as always!" Holmes cheered, breathing out a puff of grey smoke after he opened his mouth. Much to Watson's disapproval yet he stayed silent while Sherlock made his way to his desk and cleared off the investigation board above the desk. "It makes me wonder, why would the doctor resort to such an act?" He responded bringing the pipe back to his mouth to take in another puff.
Watson for a short moment went quiet inquiring upon Holmes' question, his own hands caught within his dress shirt to gingerly take a handkerchief from the small pocket. "Ah, well I inquire it must've been stress related?" The doctor popped the question in a quizzing tone like he was starting a list of possible outcomes or situations to fit their case.
"Hm." Came the short yet heavy response, such a short nonverbal response but carried the weight of Holmes' possible proposition or the thoughts he carried in his mind. Almost like popping balloons in his mind Holmes' would bite at his bottom lip dragging a small pin into a piece of paper upon his board.
"Dear Watson, we have a possible lead already..I think we should have a word with Gabriel Utterson. What do you think?" Sherlock questioned picking his pipe out from his trenchcoat reading to light it once more. His head slowly turned to eye his partner over his shoulder.
"Sounds like a good start Detective." Watson announced softly dabbing at his forehead to rid it of sweat with the small handkerchief letting a small breath leave him a bit worried to figure out this case.
"Then we get on it! Let's find out what drove our dear doctor to such a fate.." Holmes' whispered, lowering his expression towards the window, his hand brought to his face where the pipe was set back in his mouth. His features relaxed into a dour expression while he puffed the pipe making small clouds of grey leave and amber fizz. Time for yet another mystery game, sounds delightful. With that it was set up, London's best detectives were on the case and Sherlock was throwing on his outfit once more to join in.
It was time to set things right.
[End of Chapter One of A Peculiar Case]
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I swear if Loki’s in MoM and we’ll get more Strangefrost content,,,,,,,, my heart will simply explode ive been starving for so long
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Sentence of the day from the fic I’m writing:
“Stephen hugged him tight, burying his head in the crook of Anthony’s neck. Anthony was so so warm and his heartbeat was a miracle.”
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blood 7 - Strange/Stark!Reader
Relationship: Dr. Strange/Princess!Stark!Reader
Warnings: Adult Themes, eventual smut, adult language, implied sexual violence, general violence
Synopsis: Reader is the daughter of the legendary King Anthony Stark, Uniter of Lands, The Iron Defender, and leader of the realm. When the king disappears during battle, hope is lost and he is presumed dead.
When the late king’s uncle, Obadiah, takes the throne until your brother Peter is of age, he quickly arranges a marriage for you with a wicked king in a neighboring kingdom.
With the realms politics in question, and rumors of an upcoming siege to overthrow Peter’s rule before it starts, you quickly learn who is loyal to the crown and who is not.
part 6 - part 8 (coming April 13th)
CHAPTER WARNING: Yee-har, thar be smut afoot in this here chapter. 18+
7- a king
Anthony Stark hadn’t expected all of this to come of his death. He foresaw of some of it.
Of Obadiah’s imminent betrayal and Brock’s general ambition, but when Wanda had approached him with her vision all those years ago, he couldn’t have understood what it all meant.
Now, however, he realized the violence that was soon to arrive at his kingdom’s doorstep. It was an uneasy feeling; the responsibility bestowed upon him to put men’s lives at risk. To make widows and orphans because of inter family squabbles.
But Tony knew that Obadiah and Brock both presented far larger threats in the long term.
A king who is hungry for power will never stop to consider the least fortunate in his rule.
It was a mantra Tony had created for himself after his father had let entire villages fall to win back some petty golden toy during the War of the Giants. In the end, the lives lost had been worthless and the giants returned to their mountains with more spoils than they’d started.
It had made him sick.
That was the moment Tony decided to be a better man. A better king. He took pride in his unselfish rule and lack of war among those who shared the boundary with his kingdom. By a miracle he’d gotten Brock into line, but Obadiah had gotten a taste of power from his position in the Giant’s War and wanted more.
Rumors turned to plots, and all at once Tony knew his family and legacy was in danger. He had a troubled relationship with the Wakandans after one of his own barons killed their king in a quest for vengeance after the Giant’s War. Steve had volunteered as ambassador with the shadowy James Barnes (who’d long had a positive relationship with T’Challa) and they’d managed to broker a deal benefiting both nations.
That was a whole other bag of complications.
Odin had long been distrustful of Tony’s first wife, the late Queen Alexandra due to her Vanir lineage. The Asgardians had fought for centuries trying to eradicate what they’d seen as a dangerous race of uncontrollable magic users.
Odin had been a step in the right direction, after replacing his late father, but the prejudices still remained and Tony’s marriage to one of the few remaining Vanir royals had soured what little relations they’d had.
Still, in the end, they’d protected you when he so desperately needed help the Asgardians could only provide. To that, he’d offered her hand to the princes, and Odin took the offer into consideration, only backing off when an agreement was made between the two boys and yourself that affections lay elsewhere.
Which brought him to his latest challenge. Your engagement to the monster king, Brock Rumlow.
The popular story was that he’d had his late wife killed when she hadn’t produced a male heir. Every female baby prior had been fed to the dogs and at last, when her fifth pregnancy had yielded yet another female, she fell mysteriously ill and died a few nights later. Some say a villager found the baby’s water logged corpse shortly after.
From a strategic perspective, it made sense. You hadn’t been called upon by any serious suitors, often running around the kingdom with a begrudging Stephen on your coattails, and you were still young enough to bare a child or two.
Brock needed a means of securing trust in the kingdom, and marrying one of its beloved daughters was the way to do it. Not to mention, Obadiah got his army, Peter would be overthrown when he attempted to take his birthright, and both men would share in the mutual benefits of being involved in one of the strongest economies in history.
It was a clear cut plan for control of the kingdom, and it would have been more than enough for Tony to take action.
Except for one small caveat.
You’d been born of the same Vanir blood as your mother and even as a days old infant, you had shown the Master Sorceress at the time an insurmountable measure of power.
It was an old and finicky magic, the woman had warned before your mother’s body had even cooled in bed. You would need trining, but there was no one left to provide.
The Asgardians had been thorough in destroying the ancient texts and any remaining Vanir had long fallen into hiding, often using enchanted amulets and trinkets to conceal their seidr from those with wicked intentions.
Your mother had been a victim of such vicious greed. She’d been open with her abilities, sharing a close bond with Orin’s own wife and his young son, Loki. The pair had conspired to learn all the forbidden secrets of the Vanir, and she’d begun to accumulate quite the library of resources from old temples and Asgardian burial tombs.
Frigga helped her translate and in turn, the relationship with the royal families had warmed considerably until a few days before your birth.
Things had fallen apart so quickly. The Northern Kree empire had infiltrated the castle after hearing rumors of the queen’s power. Someone had once written that a single drop of Vanir blood was worth thousands in gold pieces. A bandit had gotten through the gates while she labored, he had ambushed her in the birthing chambers and despite putting up an admirable fight- died with a dagger stabbed through her heart.
The beast had tried to cut it free in front of the midwives.
The Master Sorceress had only stepped from the room a moment to freshen up her herbal remedies. By the time anyone had made it to her side, she had died, and you’d been cut free of her with that same knife.
“Your majesty?” Wanda inquired, approaching where he sat by the fire of the rebellion campsite.
“Yes?” He blinked up, returning to the present at hand. The men who were preparing for battle around him. The women sharpening weapons and sewing leather.
The people he had asked to rise up for the betterment of the kingdom. The people who were prepared to die by his side for a secure future.
“Master Strange is to meet at my cottage in the hour,” she explained.
“And what would you advise Master Sorceress?” he asked, an amused expression on his face. “Shall we let him in on our secret?”
“With less than seven days to the wedding, it might be wise,” she reasoned sardonically. “Natalia has her own mission in securing the support from within. Master Strange is working with Peter and Loki on securing the vulnerable.”
“Do you think he told him?” Tony looked down at the fire pensively.
“Loki,” he clarified. “He and Master Mordo were among the few who knew. They had to have mentioned something to him. He’s- well- I’m not entirely sure what he is to her now, but he’s certainly one of the closest lines of protection to her.”
“Assuming the rune hasn’t already faded, I would think he either told him or Stephen found out for himself, my liege,” Wanda sat down on the log next to time, her gaze following his into the flames. “Her power is what Amora desires. It needs to be concealed until the princess is in safe hands.”
“Then he knows,” Tony decided, nodding to himself. “Amora would have done something stupid if the seidr had broken through completely. Someone is keeping it under control.”
“I’ll find out,” Wanda promised. “Would you like to speak to him?”
Tony made a disgruntled noise at the thought of approaching the sorcerer. House Strange had long served under the Stark banner, proudly riding at the front of the line when called upon for battle. When they sent their oldest to train at Kamar-Taj, Tony had been surprised.
The boy had a knack for strategy and was sharp as a needle point. Tony could have seen the young man easily rise in leadership in the house, ruling his own militiamen and managing the family affairs.
But apparently he had no interest in it, and in an unorthodox fashion, the assets had been passed to their eldest daughter.
Granted, in the end, none of that mattered- as the entire family estate had been stricken by a particularly nasty plague. The sole survivor was Stephen, who’d been away at Kamar-Taj when he’d gotten the news.
He’d rushed home, and in the process gotten sick himself, but with the help of his fellow sorcerers, recovered with the only remnants of the illness remaining in his hands. He often told others it had been a riding accident. Only a select few knew the truth and devastation of his loss.
Tony had met with the young man on his sickbed, assuring him the assets would remain in the family. That the castle would maintain the property while he fulfilled his obligations to Kamar-Taj. After all, there was no greater calling than to a life of service and compassion. It was the least Tony could do.
Well, until you had scared off every Master to cross the castle threshold and he’d gotten desperate and asked the boy for a favor.
He should have known better. You were close in age. Equally as ambitious and cunning. For years you’d been sneaking through passages and around the villages at night, often with Natalia at your side.
Stephen just made it easier, and helped Tony rest a little easier knowing the man would give his life for you, if need be.
Tony wasn’t dumb. He’d seen it the first night the you had met.
The sneaking smiles, the conspiratorial whispers in the corners of the ballroom, and when Peter’s cat turned into a lion almost identical to the Stark sigil, Tony knew that one day he might allow that young man to break the oaths he’d made for a single exception.
“Your highness?” Wanda pried gently for a clearer answer.
“Yes, I’ll speak to him,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. About a great many things.
“I somehow don’t believe you just found out about this,” you stated, sitting cross legged on one of the strewn about cushions, a teapot floating delicately from the palm of your hand.
“I’ve learned a number of thing recently,” he replied dryly. “Like Mordo is alive, and Brock wants to kill Obadiah once you’re wed.”
You lost your focus and the cup shattered on the ground.
“He what?” you gaped at Stephen while he repaired the ceramic cup with a wave of his hand.
“It ties into the whole secret magic thing, but it really isn’t an ideal situation,” he explained, setting the cup aside and dropping to the cushion across from you.
“I guess it’s good I’ve pestered you for your books over the years,” you mused, flexing your fingers in the air in front of you.
“It isn’t the same,” he sighed, watching while you lifted a few other stray objects and paused them between the two of you. “Seidr is... there isn’t documentation. The books were destroyed. Kamar-Taj had a few tomes but the Vanir language is nearly impossible to translate at this point.”
“What about Loki? Or Frigga?” you asked, moving both your hands at once and dropping a feather into his lap with a grin.
“Believe it or not, I’ve been focused on other issues,” he muttered dryly. “We’re going to have to seal this before you leave.”
“But you said it’s what preventing Amora from taking over my head,” you reminded him pointedly, summoning a small flame from an incantation you’d studied the day before. Extinguishing it between your palms, you looked up at him for a better excuse.
“But it is also the reason Brock is forcing you into a marriage and so she can control you, and in turn, your power better than you can,” he explained tersely. “She can’t know you’ve gotten partial control over it. Let her underestimate you, but until you can learn to conceal the energy yourself, you can’t risk exposure.”
“So am I being sealed or not?” you asked impatiently, floating a candle from you to him. He took it with an amused half-smile, extinguishing the light with a quick puff of air. “Can you do a... half seal? Hide the energy, keep some of the good parts?”
“Gods, I don’t know,” he groaned, shaking his head while he seat the canclde aside. “This is entirely new territory that I was not trained for.”
“That must mean you’re a terrible Sorcerer Supreme. What fool put you in charge?” you teased, reaching forward and tapping the top of his nose playfully.
“It’s not my fault you’re a freakish anomaly that’s supposed to be extinct,” he mumbled, pulling a frown while you laughed. “Give me your wrist.”
“Fine, but when this over I demand you help me train properly,” you stated and though he continued grumbling under his breath about being too old for your games, he agreed. “And Loki helps too.”
“Not part of the deal,” Stephen scowled.
“Fine, I’ll marry him then,” you smirked back at him. “You still haven’t asked, so I guess when my wedding tragically falls through, I’ll have to find respite with him.”
He pulled you forward, a glint in his eyes that sent a shiver through your entire body.
“I’m not going to chase after a betrothed woman, it’s bad taste,” he hummed, fingers crawling up your wrist and intertwining with your fingers. “I have a reputation to uphold, even if you feel comfortable hiding away with strange men in dark places.”
“Is that supposed to be a joke?” you whispered, sitting up on your knees and tilting your head.
“Do you not think I’m funny?” he murmured, reaching with his free head and tilting back your chin. A smile played on the corners of your mouth, both of you sizing the other up and daring the other to make the first move.
“I can think of many things you are,” you lifted his hand and pressed a tender kiss to his palm. “But funny?”
“You laugh at all of my clever wit, don’t try to deceive me princess, I know the truth,” Stephen sharply pulled your hand forward, forcing you to fall into his chest. He held your lower back, gazing down at you adoringly. “You’re trying to hide it, but I see it in your eyes.”
“Do you know what I see in your eyes?” your voice cracked ever so slightly, your hand cradling his cheek, your thumb lightly tracing the sharp features.
“What do you see?”
“Strength,” you murmured, transfixed by his opalescent gaze. All at once, it was like you were seeing him for the first time. You could feel the energy radiating off of him, seeing the waves of magic as they ripples through his body. “Devotion to... Stephen you’re beautiful.”
“Or so the stars whisper to the earth below,” his voice was soft, gentle, while his hand guided itself up your arm to your cheek. “But, what the stars do not see is their own radiance, their own ethereal light shimmering across the velvet heavens above. The stars do not know how the Earth worships the very flicker of their existence, tells stories of their magnificence and beauty. The do not know how the Earth finds its meaning in what little time it steals away to them in the night.”
It all happened very quickly after that.
You peeled at his robes, he worked at your corset, a frenzy of hands and mouths tasting one another in a way neither had ever imagined.
Discarding the corset, he worked his hands up your blouse, fingers lightly teasing the tip of your nipple until you let out a satisfied moan. Robes loose, you pushed him back against a nearby pile of cushions, climbing between his legs and peppering hungry kisses up and down his neck until he growled, clawing at your hips.
“If you’re-,” he tired protesting while you pulled away more clothing, pressing his leg between yours and letting out a whimper of pleasure when he shifted in just the right way.
That seemed to set something off in him.
He was over you, flipping you to the ground and pulling what little clothing remained between you, your naked bodies now flush. Stephen moved down to your breast, drawing a nipple between his teeth and watching you squirm under him at the incredible sensation.
“Please,” you mewed, an absolute wreck under him.
He took his time, moving to the other nipple and repeating his actions until you were begging for any kind of release.
“Needy are we?” he murmured in your ear, his voice low and so controlled, you couldn’t understand how he could stand it. Goosebumps erupted over your body, and he just smirked, continuing his exploration.
Teasing a finger at your entrance, he looked to you for final approval before easing the digit into you.
“Gods,” he hissed, moving the finger at an agonizingly slow speed. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes upon.”
He caught you in a kiss, speeding up his hand below, his thumb searching for the sensitive nub of nerves. When he grazed over the tender area, you nearly shot out of yourself, the sensation feeling downright sinful.
Pulling his finger out, you let out another whimper, this one of protest at the emptiness inside of you.
“Are you certain-?” he asked again, eyes scanning your face for any sign of hesitation or doubt.
“I’ve never been more certain of anything,” you replied honestly. It wasn’t an exaggeration. You’d been a make up to this point, untouched and with no interest in engaging in such outrageous behavior.
Yet with him, you wished you could give more. Your body. Your soul. Your love. What did it matter anymore? He was yours, sitting before you and showing you through his loving car assess and sensations you’d never known before this moment.
He eased himself in, giving you time to adjust to his length, the member much larger than his single finger. But Gods, did he feel incredible.
You’d never thought so much emotion and pleasure could occur in a single moment. For this tiny hidden corner of the universe, you felt like your souls had collided and merged.
It was a far cry from how Nat had told you it was.
This was- you anticipated each of his movements, raising your hips to meet his as he crashed inside of you. Your brain couldn’t form coherent thoughts and when he started to coax something feral from within your core, you let him lead you through it.
Pumping in time with strokes to your clit, you clenched your walls around him, pulling a hissed curse from the sorcerer.
A few more pumps and a final circle around the sensitive area and you felt your orgasm crash over you.
At first, you thought you’d done something wrong. Did you break something? How did this feel so incredible and overwhelming all at once?
While you rode out your bliss, you felt his hips tighten, finishing with a final grunt.
You both stated at one another, eyes wide, trying to catch your breath.
“Have you-,” you started but paused. “Like that before-?”
It was no secret Stephen wasn’t exactly a virgin. He had his vows but they were against attachment, not sex, and sometimes, as he put it, the spirit needed to be revitalized.
You’d called him a creep and moved on, but Gods did you understand now.
“I don’t know what happened,” he blinked, looking thoroughly bewildered. “That’s... I’ve never- my gods, you’re incredible.”
He pulled out, dropping to the ground next to you with a huff.
“I have a potion,” he muttered, pointing to the table above them. “Prevents pregnancy.”
“And here I thought you were devoted to me,” you poked him in the rib and he just laughed.
“I am,” he insisted. “However, I’m not devoted enough to end up in the gallows for deflowering a princess who is betrothed to a ruthless king. My apologies, my grace.”
“Hm, I’m sure I can find someone willing to make that sacrifice for me,” you hummed.
“And a fool he will be,” he leaned up on his elbow. “I still win the day. He would be hanged and I still get my princess.”
“Has it been any other way?” he asked, quirking a brow. “Truly, if I’m mistaken, tell me. I don’t want to sound too over ambitious.”
You considered it briefly. Had it?
No, you knew from the moment you spied those eyes at the ball welcoming him to the castle that he was your future. You just hadn’t realized what that meant at the time.
There was no world, no life, where you could live without him by your side.
The thought sobered you quickly, your upcoming nuptials springing to mind, the spell locking you in your private world, now lifted.
“Would you have asked my father?” you asked.
“In another life, we would have been married by now,” he answered earnestly. “I’m a fool for having hesitated and nearly missed my chance at an eternity by your side.”
“And Brock?” you asked, the name leaving a sour taste in your mouth. Stephen’s expression darkened at mention of the man.
“I’ll kill him before he touches you,” he vowed. “I will not yield your heart to such a monster, and I will stop this. I cannot risk you leaving my side. Not again, my love.”
You leaned forward and kissed him, soft, intimate, and gentle. Stephen wasn’t a fighter.
Certainly he could fight, but you knew him well enough to know that violence was a last option after all other options had been tried. And here he was preparing to declare a one man war on your betrothed.
Truly, the heavens were smiling upon you in this life.
Later that evening, when Stephen had returned you safely to your quarters, he met with Wanda at her cottage at the edge of the woods to discuss the next steps in the plan.
When she caught sight of him, her expression shifted from confused to elated to-
“What is it?” he asked, knowing she’d gotten a read of what he’d been up to previously.
“Do well to conceal your thoughts,” she warned, leading him inside.
“Conceal what-?” he asked after her, stopping in his tracks when he saw Anthony sitting at her table, sipping at a large horn of water.
Tony stood up, giving the man a once over, brows raised as he took him in.
“You couldn’t wait until the wedding night?” he grumbled, dropping back down in his chair with a long sigh.
8- a secret
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