#doctor strange smut

[ironstrange1991]

The Healing Touch

Pairing: Stephen!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: The Reader has a terrible headache and Stephen goes full doctor mode to take care of her

Word Count: 4,1k

A/N: This fic is total self indulgent. The entire medical part is based on my experience with the worst headache I've ever had in my life. I had to take something positive from the whole situation. Hope you guys like it and have a nice reading ;)

You had never had such a bad headache in your entire life. It was strong enough to bring tears to your eyes and prevent you from working. It had all started with an allergy attack due to the renovation work in the office building where you worked. Even taking the anti-allergy medication you were used to taking, things only got worse and soon your airways were completely blocked and you had an incessant cough that made you want to vomit your guts out.

But things got worse when you woke up on Friday with a headache that simply wouldn't go away no matter how many painkillers you took. The persistent pain got worse over the days, reaching its peak on Monday morning. When you woke up, you simply couldn't open your eyes, and when you tried to get up, your head hurt with a piercing throb that made you sit down again and fall into silent tears. 

It was a nightmare. Stephen was on mission and you hadn't been able to talk to him in the last few days. You were practically married to a doctor, but you couldn't count on him to help you when you needed it most and that only made you cry even more, giving in to despair.

After a few minutes you forced yourself to get up and staggered to the bathroom where you forced yourself into the shower, hoping that the cold water would somehow help you, but there was no improvement. As you were changing your clothes, feeling dizzy from the strength of the pain and the throbbing in your forehead, you decided that you would take a taxi and go straight to the hospital. By that point, your anxious mind was already telling you that you had a brain tumor.

You were slowly walking down the stairs, each step you took making your head ache even more, when you heard the familiar hiss of a portal opening in the entrance hall. You didn't feel excited, already imagining it was Wong and the light coming from the windows and the door barely allowed you to open your eyes to see anything, but then you heard a baritone voice informing you that it was Stephen who had arrived.

"Sweetheart? What's wrong?" His voice was a big relief, although it sounded extremely worried and as if by magic - which it was - he was by your side, helping you to put your arm around his neck and picking you up. He quickly went downstairs and took you to the nearest sofa in the main hall and knelt in front of you. Cloaky let go of his shoulders and flew nervously across the room, stopping behind the sofa and watching you.

Stephen's presence, although a relief, made you succumb to tears again.

"Hey, Y/n, look at me, tell me what's going on, you look pale. What are you feeling?" He asked, going into full doctor mode and forcing your eyes open so he could examine them.

"My head is exploding." You finally managed to speak. "It's been hurting since Friday, but today it's unbearable, Stephen. I can't handle the pain."

Stephen conjured a small flashlight to examine your pupils and then hummed to himself looking relieved. "The pupils are normal. That's good. Can you follow my finger, please?" He asked, raising his index finger to the level of your eyes and directing it to the left and then to the right slowly. You followed the movement with your eyes to which he praised.

"Very good. Now tell me how many fingers you see." He asked, showing you three fingers.

"Three."

"Very good. And now?" He showed you one finger.

"One."

"Good. One more time. How many fingers?" He asked, closing his fist.

"None."

He nodded, sighing in relief. But the small wrinkle that always appeared between his eyebrows was still there.

"How is your vision? Can you see perfectly or is it blurry? Any black spots or spots of light?"

You shook your head. "I can see, but I can't keep my eyes open because the light makes it hurt even more." You whimpered. "The pain is too bad, Stephen. I don't know what to do."

Stephen shushed you, putting the small flashlight aside and bringing his two thumbs to your forehead, positioning them just above your eyebrows and pressing them there in circular motions.

"Fuck." You hissed.

"I hit the spot, didn't I? Here is where it hurts the most?"

You nodded. "And inside of my eyes and on my cheeks. It feels like my whole face hurts. Even my teeth."

He hummed positively but remained silent, moving his fingers from your forehead to your cheekbones and down to the joint of your jaw, putting some pressure there.

"It hurts so much, Stephen. What if I have a brain tumor? Or... or an aneurysm? What if I have an aneurysm?" Your voice was getting shakier and shakier, and heavy tears fell from your eyes. "I don't want to die, Stephen. I don't want to." You said, clinging to him and hiding your face in his neck as you gave in to crying again.

Stephen wrapped you in his arms, one of his hands stroking your hair as he shushed you. "You're not going to die, sweetheart, and you don't have an aneurysm or a brain tumor." He said, trying to reassure you.

"But it hurts too much." You whimpered.

"I know. I'll make it stop. I promise. I'm here now. But you need to let me go so I can go to the drug store to get your medication."

But the idea seemed absurd to you and instead of letting him go, you tightened your arms around him even more, which made him grunt softly and pull your hands away gently.

"What you have is called sinusitis. It's a serious inflammation of the airways that causes secretions to build up in this region here." He explained, pulling you away enough so he could illustrate what he was saying. He ran his index finger along your cheekbones and above your nose. "Because of the inflammation, you feel pain here." He continued moving his finger down to your jaw. "That's why your teeth hurt too." You nodded.

"But why does my head have to hurt so much? I don't understand." You asked, wiping away the tears with the back of your hand.

"Because the inflammation causes the facial muscles to tense up, which causes all the pain." He explained, standing up, but you held his hand tightly.

"Don't leave me alone. Please."

Stephen sighed. "I really need to go, love. The sooner you get your medication, the faster you'll get rid of the pain. Isn't that what you want?" He asked and you nodded, but kept holding his hand anyway.

"I had an idea. What if Clocky stays with you while I go, huh? Do you think that's a good idea?"

Before you could even answer, you felt the sentient relic moving excitedly behind you.

"It really loves you, you know?" Stephen insisted and you finally let go of his hand and watched him gesticulate with his head for the relic to come closer. Cloaky quickly flew over the couch and wrapped you in a comfortable hug. One of the things you loved about it - besides the fact that it was a magical piece of clothing that had thoughts and feelings just like Aladdin's carpet and you thought that was amazing - was that it smells like Stephen.

The warmth and soft touch comforted you somehow and you leaned against the back of the couch and curled your legs up trying to get as comfortable as possible.

"That's great, sweetie. I'll be back in a minute. I promise." He said and with a quick gesture of his fingers his robes were exchanged for jeans and a shirt and he walked quickly towards the door.

...

Stephen hated waiting in line. He had always been impatient, but ever since he learned the mystic arts he simply couldn't accept that there were things he couldn't solve with magic. Sure, he could open a portal and get the medication he needed, but that would be stealing and he considered himself an honest enough guy to do that. So there he was waiting in line at the checkout with a basket in his hand, waiting for the woman to pass the purchases of the person in front of him with an almost deliberate slowness while everyone in the drug store continued to stare at him in the strange way that everyone else stared at him when they recognized him.

When it was finally his turn, the woman named Katia looked at him with a sour face and said in a tedious manner, "Prescription, please."

Stephen sighed, "I don't have a prescription. I'm a doctor. The medication is for me." He lied shamelessly.

The woman cast a suspicious look at the basket and then at him. "I'll need to see your license."

Stephen sighed, letting his irritation show. "Come on, you know who I am. Everyone knows I'm a doctor."

"I'll need your license, sir."

Stephen sighed, taking out his wallet and opening it with difficulty because his hands were shaking more then usual. He took the document and showed it to her, then put it back.

"That's 145 dollars." She said, finally putting the boxes inside a plastic bag and handing it to him.

"Keep the change for the wonderful service." He said ironically, handing her the money and finally leaving the drug store and returning to the usual movement of Manhattan.

When Stephen finally returned home, it seemed like it had taken hours, but it had only been 25 minutes. He found you still in the same position, cuddled with Cloaky and with your eyes closed. He quickly moved his fingers, closing all the curtains in the room and approaching.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I tried to go as fast as I could..." He said and Cloaky gently pulled away from your hold and flew up the stairs.

He sat down next to you and conjured a glass of water and handed it in your hands while he opened the medication boxes and took out the pills and put in your hand.

"This is an anti-inflammatory, this one is an antibiotic and together they will cure the inflammation and relieve the tension."

You nodded, putting the two pills in your mouth and swallowing them with a sip of water. He couldn't help but smile at the fact that you didn't question him, just trusted him completely. He knew that a big part of that trust was because you loved him, but an important part was because you trusted him as a doctor and Stephen missed that. He missed being a doctor, having people's trust in that way and feeling good about being able to save a life or help someone in that way.

"This one is for the pain. It's a strong painkiller and should take effect within a few minutes. It will make you drowsy, though."

You took the pill and threw it in your mouth, swallowing it quickly while you poured the glass of water. Stephen smiled tenderly, taking the glass and placing it on the coffee table. Then he took a small bottle from the bag and opened it, showing you how to use it. "This one you spray twice in each nostril, and it will help decongest your nose and make you breathe better."

But instead of taking the bottle from his hand, you just got closer to him and put your head forward, waiting for him to apply the medicine to you. Stephen let out a small chuckle, feeling his chest get warm. You were so cute. Even in that situation that wasn't the least bit funny, you managed to be extremely adorable.

"There you go." He said, finishing the application of the medicine and putting them all back in the bag and placing the bag on the table. "Now come here." He asked, stretching out his arms so you could snuggle into his chest. “I think you need cuddles.”

He hugged you, gently resting his chin on the top of your head. "I'm sorry I wasn’t here for you, sweetheart. I hate these missions sometimes, especially when we can't communicate." He confessed. Deep down he was feeling extremely guilty about the situation, even though he knew it wasn't his fault. If he had been there, he would have diagnosed the problem sooner and spared you so much pain. After all, what was the point of dating a doctor if you couldn't count on him when you needed him most?

"You're here now. That's all that matters." You answered, lifting your head to look at him and it broke his heart to see your eyes red with tears like that. He cupped your cheek gently. "Can I kiss you? I heard that getting a kiss from me is the best medicine for sinusitis." He joked, managing to get a small smile from your lips.

 "Kiss me all you want then." You said with a tired smile and he giggled, kissing you softly on the lips and then giving small kisses on your cheeks, on the tip of your nose, finishing on your forehead.

You hummed softly. "I love you, Steph." You said, laying your head back on his chest.

"And I love you, sweetheart. More than you can imagine." He confessed and you hummed again, but remained silent and he respected your silence. He knew that the pain you were feeling wasn’t small. Sinus headaches could be extremely painful, and you had endured it for as long as you could without asking for help. He only wished you had gone to the hospital sooner. He hated seeing you in pain.

...

You didn't realize you had fallen asleep until you woke up to the sound of soft voices talking. Stephen hadn't moved a muscle apparently, possibly to avoid waking you up, but now he was talking to someone.

"I'm glad she's okay now. Give her my best wishes when she wakes up." You heard Wong's voice and kept your eyes closed. The excruciating pain had passed, but your head was still sore and there was still a slight throb above your eyebrows.

"Are you going back to Kamar Taj yet?" You heard Stephen ask.

"Yes. Lots to do as usual. I'll let you rest for the night, Stephen. We'll talk tomorrow morning. Send me an update on Y/n when she wakes up." And as soon as he finished speaking, you heard the squeak of the portal opening and closing and then silence followed only by the sporadic sound of cars passing by on the street.

When you finally opened your eyes, you were surprised to find the Sanctum plunged into darkness. A single lamp was on, emanating a dim light from the kitchen. You had no idea how many hours you had slept, but you were completely dizzy, probably due to the effect of the medicine. You yawned and rubbed your eyes slowly, noticing that the pain behind them had also diminished considerably. Stephen moved slowly and then stroked your hair.

"Are you awake, sweetheart?" His voice was hoarse and heavy with sleep, which made you wonder if he had fallen asleep too.

"What time is it?" You asked softly.

"Almost nine." He answered. "You've slept for almost ten hours."

You rubbed your eyes again and then looked at him in surprise. "You've been here this whole time?"

"I left you in Cloaky's care so I could shower and eat, but I basically spent the day on this couch. I ended up falling asleep too, which is a rarity. I woke up to Wong calling me and asking for a book."

You smiled to yourself. "I'm glad you got some rest too."

He hummed positively. "How are you feeling? Better, I hope."

You nodded, slowly lifting your head to look at him now that your eyes had adjusted to the darkness.

"My head is sore, hurts a little, but the excruciating pain is gone."

Stephen smiled, cupping your cheek and stroking it slowly with his thumb. "That's great. But I'm afraid you'll need to take another painkiller now to give the anti-inflammatory time to kick in before the pain starts to come back." He explained.

"But if I take another one of those I'll sleep for another ten hours." You complained, to which he shook his head.

"I think a Tylenol will do for now. I'll get it for you." He said, threatening to get up, but you held him in place and cupped his face.

"Stay. Just a minute more."

He smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, sweetie, I'll be back in a moment."

You let him go reluctantly, but took the opportunity to sit up. Your body was limp and you felt like you were slightly drunk, so you avoided getting up. Suddenly you saw your bag on the coffee table and remembered that you hadn't even texted your boss, but before you could think to do so, Stephen was back answering the question you hadn't even voiced.

"I called the office and told them you were sick. You're staying home tomorrow too, by the way. Doctor's orders."

You nodded, watching him approach. He was wearing gray pajama pants and a white t-shirt. His hair, always impeccable, was messy and a few strands fell over his forehead. He looked handsome as always, but you couldn't help but notice a nasty cut on his cheek that you hadn't noticed before.

"You're hurt." You said as he sat down next to you, handing you a Tylenol pill and picking up the empty glass on the table and handing it to you. With a simple gesture of his hand, the glass filled with water.

"It's nothing. Drink it."

You obeyed, and the whole time he looked at you with tenderness in his eyes, but the crease between his eyebrows was still there.

"I'm fine, Stephen. Really."

He nodded, taking the glass from your hand and placing it back on the table.

"Seeing you in pain was a horrible experience, Y/n. It made me think that I would never forgive myself if something happened to you, and I'm not just talking about illnesses. The work I do, the things I deal with are extremely evil. It makes me think about the risk you run by living with me."

You smiled, trying to ignore what he was saying, but deep down you knew he was right. Living in the Sanctum with the Master of the Mystic Arts was a risk, but one you were willing to take because you loved him. "Let's not think about that." You simply said. "I'm fine and you came back from your mission safe and sound. That's all that matters."

He nodded, taking your hand in his and promptly changed the subject. "You need to eat something before taking the next dose of medication."

"Pizza." You asked immediately, which made him giggle.

"I was thinking about a salad..."

"I thought I was going to die today from a brain tumor. Fuck the salad, I want pepperoni pizza with lots of cheese and chocolate ice cream for dessert."

Stephen smiled broadly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Whatever you say. I'll order and while we wait, I'll help you take a shower. What do you think?"

You nodded. "I don't think I can stand up on my own to do it anyway. Whatever you gave me made me totally dizzy."

"I told you it was strong, didn't I? But the important thing is that it took the pain away."

You nodded. "Thanks for taking care of me, Steph."

"That's what you do when you love someone, isn't it? You've taken care of me so many times, sweetheart. I lost count of how many times you patched me up after I came back from a mission. That’s what people who love each other do."

You smiled "I really do love you."

...

Stephen had never seen you eat pizza so eagerly and then devour two bowls of ice cream. It was cute. Even your childish palate was something he found adorable about you. He ate four slices of pizza himself and found himself having seconds of dessert, which he rarely did. After a day like the one you had, he was sure you both deserved the comfort of the food.

Finally, you got ready for bed and ended up in bed with the lamp on, giving the room a low, comfortable light.

"How are you feeling now?" He asked to confirm, but it was clear from the look in your eyes that the medication was taking effect.

"Better. I barely feel any pain, but my head is still sore."

He caressed your face, watching you settle into the pillows next to him. "It's normal after such intense pain. You'll be better tomorrow."

You smiled, biting your lower lip and making that little face you always did when you wanted something, but you didn't say anything, you just brought your hand to his hair, tangling your fingers in it and scratching gently. Stephen closed his eyes, indulging in the touch and only then noticing how tired he was. The mission had been energetic, it had been a really hard few days that had taken a lot out of him physically and although he had managed to sleep for an hour or two, he could feel the exhaustion taking over him.

"Hm, it feels so good." He found himself confessing as he melted into your touch. "I missed you, sweetheart. Every day all I could think about was that I wanted to go home." He opened his eyes to see you smiling sweetly at him and slowly you snuggled closer to him as he automatically reached out to hold you impossibly close.

You cupped his cheek and pulled him to your lips, kissing him slowly, but with a growing desire. "I missed you too. I had plans for when you got back. I wanted to surprise you with a special dinner, but it wasn't possible." You said and he smiled reassuringly.

"Well, even though the day wasn't the most pleasant, it's safe to say we had a special dinner tonight. The pizza was very good." He said smirking.

"But there was something else I wanted to give you when you got back." You said, hooking your leg around his hip teasingly and Stephen soon understood what you were up to, but even though he wanted it as much as you did, he was forced to reason.

"Unfortunately, it's not a good idea, sweetheart, even though I really want it."

You frowned, clearly annoyed. "Why not? After the day I've had, don't I deserve a little affection?"

Stephen nodded with a smile. Of course you did. You deserved everything you wanted and he believed he deserved it too after the mission he had just returned from, but it wasn't always possible to get what you deserved. "Trust me, you do, but I don't want to risk making your headache worse."

You stared at him, not understanding what one thing had to do with the other, and he chuckled, trying to explain in a way that made sense.

"Remember what we talked about the tension in your facial muscles making your head hurt?"

You nodded.

"When we make love and you have a good time, which is always, I hope, the pleasure makes you tense the muscles of your entire body, even those on your face and especially during orgasm, which could lead to an orgasmic headache."

You rolled your lips, trying not to laugh. "Did you just make that up?"

Stephen let out a soft laugh. "Of course not. I'm serious. It's a real problem that you don’t have, but given the sinusitis, orgasm could be a trigger for a worsening of your condition."

You buried your face in his neck, laughing softly, and the sound was very welcome after he had seen you crying in pain earlier. "Believe me, I would never make that up, especially since I'm climbing the walls after so many days without sex."

"It hasn't been that many days." You contradicted him. "But I believe you, as stupid as it may seem. I just hate this fucking sinus thing even more now." You groaned.

"Your treatment will last five days, but after that we will have plenty of time to make up for it, trust me."

You sighed, lifting your head to look at him. "You'll have to make it up to me tonight with lots of kisses."

Stephen smiled. "As many as you want, sweetheart." He said, pulling you back to his lips.

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!

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[vickiee-mcmuffin]

Ahhh your requests are open!! You can write a smut where the reader is America's friend (of legal age!!!) and has a crush on Stephen. I would be happy if you can do something really dirty with dirty talk and creampie.

A little crush

Word count: 3.4k

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Female Reader

Trope: Explicit smut, Age gap, Oral (F Receiving), (18+ Warning, Minors DNI)

Summary: You became good friends with America when you started your journey at Kamar Taj a few months ago. But you also found yourself having a bit of a crush on America’s carer, Doctor Stephen Strange.

A/N: This is a very old request, so I’m not sure if the person who asked for this is still here. But I hope you like this idea.

You were glad that it was America you had met first at Kamar Taj. She was sweet, friendly, and welcoming, and it only took a few months for you two to become best friends.

She was staying in New York with one of the masters: the one and only Doctor Stephen Strange. He had helped America out: saving her after a witch attempted to steal her powers. That was when Stephen became America’s carer, and since the two of you were so close, you often found yourself spending your days and nights at the sanctum. You’d see Stephen a lot, and you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t have a crush on him. He was a good twenty years older than you, but you found him so handsome, and there had been so many nights where you laid in bed having the filthiest of fantasies about him. There was no way you could ever tell America, though.

Just like a lot of other nights, you were staying over at the sanctum. You were resting with America in her room after a long day of training when the urge to down a cold drink hit you.

“I’m gonna go get some soda,” you told her.

Smiling at you, America nodded. “Okay.”

You began your journey to the kitchen, but that was when you made your way past Stephen’s room. The door was open with just the tiniest of cracks and you could hear music pouring through. You couldn’t help it when you looked through the little gap, gasping when you saw Stephen in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist and one on his shoulders, his hair slightly damp from the shower. He was humming to the song in the background, and you found yourself staring. He was just so damn beautiful.

Suddenly, Stephen looked in your direction. Your eyes locked and you backed away fast, spinning on your heels. 

“Y/N?” you heard Stephen call out to you. 

But you ignored him, your cheeks bright red and your heart racing. You chose to just forget about your drink and scurry back to America’s room.

You weren’t sure how you’d face Stephen again.

******

A few hours had passed since your little incident with Stephen. You and America were deep in conversation when there was a knock at her door.

“Come in!” America called out.

Stephen pushed the door open, eyes darting between the two of you. “You two should get some rest now. It’s late and you both have training tomorrow.”

America nodded. “Okay.”

Then Stephen’s eyes landed on you, and slowly but surely, he ran them up and down your body. He shot you a little smile, one that made your body tingle. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

It was hard to fall asleep after that. After the way he looked at you. You tossed and turned, your mind not letting you forget how dark his eyes had got as he stared your way. You needed something to cool you down, so you hopped out of bed to get a drink. You moved into the kitchen as quietly as you could, pouring yourself some cold water, just about to raise the glass to your lips.

“What are you doing?” a deep voice asked.

You gasped and jumped, heart racing as you turned to see Stephen. “You made me jump!”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just wanted to know why you were still awake.”

“I just wanted to get a drink. I can’t sleep.”

It stayed quiet between the two of you, but your skin felt hot and tingly as Stephen took slow steps your way.

“Are you okay?” he asked, head tilted a little.

You turned around. Stephen was so close to you. Closer than he had ever been. You stared into his eyes before looking at the floor, feeling your face go all hot. You must have been blushing.

“I’m good,” you finally said.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asked, taking another slow step your way.

“No. No, you’re not.”

“Why won’t you look at me then?”

Swallowing, you realised just how close Stephen was. Just inches away. You could smell him. That deep, masculine scent. It made your whole body heat up. “I can’t tell you. It’s embarrassing...”

You felt a long finger on your chin, your head tilting up. You met Stephen’s eyes and just like earlier, his eyes moved up and down your body. Slowly, he leaned in close, his soft-looking lips by your ear. “I know that you were watching me earlier. I bet you liked what you saw, huh?”

“I… Um. Ma-ma-maybe,” you stuttered, unable to think of the correct words to say. 

Stephen kept his eyes on you and chuckled. “Seems to me that a certain someone here has a crush on me, hmm?”

“I’m so sorry, Stephen.”

“No, you’re not sorry. I’ve known about your little crush on me for a while now.”

You had been caught. Really, you weren’t sorry. He knew about your little crush on him and had caught you red-handed with your eyes on him. You weren’t subtle or slick. No. You were painfully obvious.

Stephen pressed his broad body to yours suddenly, and it had you gasping.

“Stephen?” you asked, grabbing his arm.

“Tell me, Y/N. Tell me what you want from me,” he whispered.

“No, I can’t.”

“You can.”

“It’s… bad. It’s inappropriate. You’re so much older than me.”

Stephen laughed lowly. “Is it inappropriate that I think about you?”

Blinking at him, you gave him a wide-eyed stare. “You do?”

“Yes. A lot.”

“Oh...”

You couldn’t hold yourself back anymore after that. Standing on the tips of your toes, you softly pressed your lips to his. The kiss was slow and soft as Stephen held you to him, the two of you sharing a sweet kiss. But then you remembered your friend. The girl who had been so kind and warm to you.

You pulled away from Stephen quickly, your hands on his chest as you shook your head. “We can’t do this.”

Stephen’s brows pulled together. “Why?”

“What about America? What if she finds out?”

“She doesn’t have to know. This can be our secret. America is sleeping right now, anyway. I won’t tell her if you don’t.”

You could definitely keep the secret to yourself. You already had experience with that. Humming, you nodded at Stephen. “Okay,” you said. “As long as you promise to keep us a secret because I’m not sure how America would react if she saw us doing this. I never want to lose her as a friend.”

“I won’t say a word to her. I promise.”

You knew you could trust him. You kissed him again, pushing your tongue into his mouth, the kiss growing more intense by the second, his hands moving all over your body until he grabbed you and lifted you onto the kitchen counter. One big hand pushed through the elastic of your pyjama bottoms. He pressed a skilled finger to your clit, his finger circling against the wet, sensitive bud. You whined against Stephen’s lips, the feeling sending a spark up your body.

“You’re so wet, Sweetheart. Go on, tell me. Tell me what you want,” Stephen asked you again.

“I want you so bad,” you finally confessed with a cry.

“Good girl.” Stephen grabbed at you, picking you up from the counter as your legs wrapped around his waist. “I’m gonna give you what you want.”

He held you tight as he carried you to his bedroom. Stephen kicked the door shut and with a wave of his hand, the sound of the door locking hit your ears. He must have locked his door with some kind of spell. A second later, his tongue was back in your mouth, his grunts and groans loud as he got you settled on the bed. His eager hands tugged your pyjamas and panties off, and he took a step back, eyes moving up and down your body.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. His lips met your neck and he gave you wet, little kisses along your breasts and stomach, not stopping until he got to that spot between your thighs. 

Stephen suddenly gave you a dark look. You locked eyes, the two of you almost staring each other down before Stephen finally gave you a cocky smirk. His tongue pushed out between his lips as he ran it right along your slit, right until he got to your clit. A soft moan fell from your lips, your back arching at the sudden feeling of pleasure. You brought a shaky hand down, dragging your fingers through Stephen’s locks.

“Stephen,” you whined out. “Mm, feels so good.”

You were being too loud. Your teeth bit into your bottom lip, trying to keep your sounds of pleasure muffled as Stephen kept playing with your clit. You had never felt anything so good. Your fingers gripped Stephen’s hair hard and tight, a fistful of hair in your grasp. Stephen wouldn’t stop. He just kept licking and sucking at you as you laid there, trying to keep your filthy sounds of pleasure to yourself.

But he managed to make it even better as he slid a long finger into you, curling it just right as he kept taking care of your clit. It was all too much for you. His lips, his finger. Another finger. He slipped one more into you, and then you found yourself clamping your free hand to your mouth to keep your scream low and muffled.

“Stephen!” you called out, the sound thankfully softened thanks to the palm of your hand up against your lips.

Stephen’s eyes met your half-opened ones and he smirked against your wet pussy. Then he carried on sucking and licking at you, his goatee tickling you with each second that passed. It just added to the pleasure. You were getting closer and closer. You could feel it. You were on the brink of your orgasm.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you whined to Stephen.

Stephen began to pump his fingers into you at an impossible speed once you said that. He wouldn’t stop. He just seemed so focused on giving you nothing but pleasure. You rocked your hips against his face, so desperate and eager to cum. His nose began to rub up against your sensitive bud, his tongue lapping at your pussy lips. You just couldn’t control yourself anymore. You came right then and there, crying out loudly behind your hand as the pleasure hit you. Stephen didn’t take his lips off of you, though. He kept licking and sucking at you, dragging out your orgasm and making it last as long as possible.

Panting wildly, you allowed yourself a few moments to calm down. Your pussy still felt so sensitive as you looked down at Stephen, his lips and goatee glistening with your pussy juices. He pulled his fingers from you and moved up your body, pressing his lips to yours. You could instantly taste yourself right there on his mouth. It was filthy but in the best way possible.

Shoving your tongue into Stephen’s mouth, the two of you laid there kissing one another hungrily. But Stephen suddenly pulled away and stood up. He smirked at you as you watched him pull his clothes off in a second flat. You gasped when you saw how big he was: thick and long and veiny. You wanted to feel him inside you badly.

Stephen got settled on his knees in front of you, keeping your legs spread before he grabbed his cock, pumping himself up and down. He gave you a long, deep kiss before resting his forehead against yours.

“I really wanna hear all those beautiful sounds you’ll make,” he said lowly, “but you gotta be quiet for me.”

You nodded. “I’ll be quiet.”

He kissed you again before pressing the swollen tip of his cock to your entrance. Slowly, he slid into you, and you already found yourself whining at the stretched out sensation he was giving you. He was just so big. He groaned above you, pushing into you more.

“You’re so big,” you said with a whisper. You had never felt anything so big and thick and perfect. “God, you feel so big inside me.”

“Fuck,” Stephen grumbled out. “You feel so fucking tight, warm and wet.”

He inched into you more and more until you had all of him, until you were stuffed with his cock. That was when he pulled out and began to pump himself back into you, stretching you out with his cock. You felt so full as he fucked you, your legs wrapping around him as he took you and fucked you and made you all his. In and out, in and out.

“You feel so fucking good, sweetheart,” he muttered into your ear. “God, you feel so good. Does my cock feel good inside of you? Hm?”

You nodded, whining as you bit into your bottom lip. “So… So good. Please, you feel so good.”

“Mm, this is what you wanted, huh? You wanted my cock. You wanted it so fucking bad. You’re taking it so good, baby. You’re taking my cock like such a good girl. Look at you. Look at how good you look like this.”

You didn’t do it on purpose. It was just that Stephen’s cock felt so good stuffed inside of you and his filthy words were getting to you as well: the moan was ripped right out of you, the sound loud and shrill. Stephen’s hand was suddenly on your mouth, your eyes big as he carried on fucking you and filling you up.

“You gotta stay quiet for me,” he said. “I know it feels good. I know that little pussy wanted my cock so fucking bad, but you can’t keep moaning so loud. I know it’s hard. My cock feels so fucking good inside of you, doesn’t it?”

“Mhm!” you let out behind his hand.

He chuckled. “You take it so damn good. You’re taking every fucking inch. Look at that look in your eyes. I bet you’re so close for me again. Are you? Hm? Are you close?”

You were, and all you could do was nod in response as he slid in and out of you, his cock so thick as he took you. Your orgasm was seconds away. You could feel it. Stephen pulled out of you and pushed into you deep, the movements fast and wild, the sound of skin hitting skin in the air.

“I’m so close,” you said, your voice so soft and muffled. “Mm, I’m so—” It was all too much, and soon you found yourself losing control right there with his cock stuffed inside of you. Your orgasm hit you, taking over your whole body. Your skin felt hot and your toes curled as Stephen slammed in and out of you.

“There we go,” Stephen said with a chuckle.

You laid there panting for a good full minute until Stephen pulled his soaked cock out of you. He flipped you over so that you were on top, his hands moving from your waist to your hips to your ass, lifting you up before he lowered you back down onto his cock. A second later, he had filled you back up, stretching you out once again. Hands on his broad shoulders, you began to ride his cock wildly. Up and down, up and down. You took every inch of his cock as he groaned below you.

“That’s it,” Stephen muttered. “Just like that. Keep riding my cock.”

Your own moans were far too loud so you pressed your face right to his neck, hoping that would keep the sounds muffled. You couldn’t help it when you sucked at his soft skin, leaving behind little love bites as you bounced on his cock.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” said Stephen. “You feel so fucking good, Y/N. Fuck.”

There was a knock at the door suddenly. A loud one. It made you jump a little, your eyes widening as you stared down at Stephen.

“Shit,” he said, voice laced with panic. “Stop.”

You halted then and there, waiting to see Stephen’s next move.

Stephen cleared his throat. “Who’s there?” he asked, a fake, sleepy tone in his words. Like he had just woken up.

“It’s me,” America said from the other side of the door. “I was just wondering if you knew where Y/N was. I just woke up and can’t find her anywhere.”

“Uh,” Stephen said, that feigned, sleepy tone still there in his voice, “maybe she went for a walk or went back to Kamar Taj or something. I dunno.”

“Hmmm, okay then,” said America. “I’m going back to bed. Goodnight.”

You both stayed still with Stephen’s cock still buried deep inside of you. You waited to hear the sound of America’s door clicking shut, and with that, you lifted yourself up that little bit and worked yourself back down Stephen’s cock, eager to feel him again. You were moving fast and hard, your nails digging into Stephen’s shoulders as you took his cock. It was almost impossible to keep your moans to yourself as his thick cock stretched you out, and every now and then, a pleasure-filled moan would slip from your lips.

His swollen tip kept hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you. You were so close, and it seemed like Stephen could sense it.

“Be a good girl and cum on my cock for me again,” he said from below you. “Fucking do it. Just cum.”

You nodded, bouncing right there on his length, so eager to feel your third orgasm of the night. You rode him hard and fast, not stopping until that feeling of wild pleasure pooled all over your body. Stephen was fucking up into you, dragging out the feeling, letting your orgasm turn your body all hot and shaky.

He pounded into you from below with a groan. “I’m gonna cum,” he said.

“Mm, please cum inside me,” you whispered.

“Fuck, okay,” he said with gritted teeth.

One, two, three more thrusts, and then it was it for him. He pounded into you deep and hard, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he lost all control and emptied himself inside of you. Hot and sticky, his cum coated your inner walls and you shuddered at the feeling.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he let out with a pant.

For a little while, the two of you just stayed like that before Stephen reached forward, giving you a quick, sweet kiss. Then he gave your ass a tap, and you knew that was his way of telling you to lift yourself off of him. The second you did so, you felt his cum spilling right out of you. You laid against his chest, your own breathing heavy, but it was Stephen who got his back on track first.

You laid there in the bed as he got up and put some underwear on. Then he moved into the bathroom and came back with a warm cloth, letting it gently trace along your body and cleaning up the filthy mess he made. He threw it to the floor before sliding into bed with you, your head suddenly back on his chest. He kept his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you close to him. Eyes heavy, you were just about to let them shut and get lost in sleep.

“Y/N,” Stephen said softly.

You looked up at him, watching him smile at you. “Yeah?”

“You better get back to America’s room before she gets suspicious,” he said.

You had almost forgotten. “Oh, right.” You kissed him before you grabbed your hastily thrown pyjamas from the floor. “Goodnight, Stephen,” you said as you slowly moved towards the door.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said.

Being as quiet as you could, you slipped back into America’s room. You moved into her bathroom, cleaned yourself up that tiny bit more, and then put your pyjamas back on. Then you climbed back into bed and America almost made you jump when she spoke up.

“Where were you?” she asked in the darkness.

“Um… I just went for a walk,” you lied. “I couldn’t sleep. I just needed to clear my head, you know?”

“Oh, okay,” America said, voice sounding sleepy.

You were pretty tired yourself. Your eyes slowly shut and you couldn’t fight back the smile as you thought about what had just happened. What a night. Stephen’s touch had been so skilled, so perfect. Everything you had imagined. You just hoped that you’d get to do it again, and hopefully, the next time wouldn’t be so rushed. You also hoped America wouldn’t ever find out the truth.

[geeky-politics-46]

I just had a random imagine pop into my head...

Imagine you were dating Stephen & everyone is living together at the Tower, except Stephen of course still lives at the Sanctum. Imagine the faces of the others trying to maintain their calm when they see Stephen not in his sorcerers robes for the first time as he wanders out of your room in the morning to get coffee. No cloak, no Eye of Agamotto. Just a band t-shirt and pajama pants with his hair out of place. They would look like school kids who just ran into a teacher at the grocery store. That or total shit eating grins, that would be Nat for sure & probably Wanda. Tony would of course act like he had discovered some huge secret or found Bigfoot or something.

[biblicallyaccuratemeat]

Leaky Faucet

MDNI!!! (seriously, don't.)

A/N: Writing this guaranteed my ticket to hell :') This is really nasty and insane, it won't be everyone's cup of tea but it is very much mine! As always, beta read by my bbys @teaflavoredwitch & @ethanhoewke! Stephen Strange x female reader, sugar daddy Stephen Strange, established relationship, age gap, p in v sex, oral fem receiving, fingering, FISTING, corruption kink kind of, squirting, breath play, choking, degradation, praise kink, DADDY KINK, rough sex, barely any aftercare, Stephen being an ass per usual, power play kinda, bodily fluids, ass play, anal fingering, pet names, dirty talk, desk sex

Word Count: 7.3k (I am so tired folks)

On a dreary autumn evening, you find yourself snuggled up tight against Stephen’s side on the plush leather sofa of his study. You let your fingers dance playfully across the plane of his sturdy chest, feeling the firmness of his muscles even through the barrier of his shirt. Stephen’s tanned skin seems to glow softly in the flickering candlelight of the cozy study, his crow’s feet deepening with shadows. You tilt your chin up, gazing into his sharp eyes as he continues to silently peruse an ancient, leather-bound tome. The scent of aged parchment and Stephen’s own, uniquely masculine aroma, something dark and spicy with a hint of pine, fills your nostrils, making you feel warm and tingly all over.

As Stephen turns a page with a soft rustle, his hand continues its idle journey down the length of your spine, calloused fingertips brushing over the bumps of your vertebrae through the soft fabric of your sweater. You can feel the heat of his touch seeping into your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. You let out a soft, breathy sigh, your chest rising and falling with each inhale as you nuzzle further into the crook of Stephen’s neck. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, anchoring yourself to him as you feel a familiar, needy warmth beginning to build low in your belly. You know you should be content to simply sit there, basking in Stephen’s proximity and the cozy ambience of the Sanctum, but you can feel your body hum with anticipation and there’s a topic you’ve been meaning to broach…

“Steph?” You murmur against his skin, punctuating your hum with a gentle kiss to his steady pulse. 

Stephen pauses his reading, a slight shudder running down his spine as your soft lips brush against the sensitive skin of his neck. He sets the heavy tome aside, the ancient pages already forgotten as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling your curvy form closer against him.

“Hmmm?” he murmurs in response, fully devoting his attention to you. His voice is a low, almost contemplative rumble. “What is it, love?” The pet name feels natural on his tongue now, a testament to the growing intimacy between you.

His hand begins to slowly caress your side, tracing the dip of your waist and the swell of your hip. He breathes in your sweet, familiar scent, allowing it to fill his senses. “You, uh, you were a doctor, right?” You begin timidly, fiddling with one of the buttons on his shirt for a moment. You return your attention to his neck, nuzzling into the crook of it, peppering sweet pecks along the tendon jutting out.

Stephen nods, a rueful smile playing on his lips as your kisses send tingles across his skin. His hand continues its languid exploration of your curves, now dipping teasingly beneath the hem of your sweater to caress the smooth, warm skin of your lower back. 

"Yes, I was a neurosurgeon," he confirms, his voice a low, almost nostalgic murmur. "A lifetime ago, it seems. Before...before everything changed."

His fingers trace the fading scars on his hands, an unfortunate reminder of the accident that ended his medical career. But those memories fade into the background as he loses himself in the sensation of your soft skin and the sweet scent of your hair.

"And what made you ask about that now, hmmm?" he questions, turning his head to nuzzle into your hair, his stubbled jaw brushing against your temple. "Were you curious about the man I used to be, before I became...this?"

Gnawing on your lower lip nervously, you peek up at Stephen through your long lashes, feeling a wave of shyness wash over you. Squirming in his lap, you let out a soft, anxious giggle, "So you must have a deep understanding of the workings of human anatomy?”

Stephen chuckles, a low, almost decadent sound as he feels you squirming atop his lap. His hands tighten on your hips, stilling your movements. A knowing smirk plays at the corners of his mouth as he catches the implication behind your words. "Indeed, I do," he confirms, his voice a husky murmur. His piercing eyes glint with a sudden, heated intensity as they meet yours. "My medical training was extensive and thorough. I'm quite familiar with every inch of the human body, inside and out."

One hand trails slowly up your side, his fingertips just barely grazing the side of your breast. He can feel the heat of your skin, the racing of your heart as your body responds to his touch. "Though I must admit, I've never had a...practical reason to put that knowledge to such intimate use until now," he adds, a note of dark amusement coloring his tone. His thumb brushes teasingly over the sensitive skin beneath your collarbone. "Until you, that is.” 

You clear your throat, straightening your posture, “Well the reason I bring this all up, is because there’s some… things I’d like to try. And I think they would probably be safer and easier to execute thanks to your medical training.” You choose your words carefully, dancing around just outright blabbing about all the depraved fantasies lingering in your mind.

Stephen's eyebrows arch slightly, intrigue and a hint of anticipation flashing across his face. He can sense the direction of your thoughts, what you are implying with your shyly murmured confession. A hushed, almost reverent silence falls over you both for a long moment, the air heavy with unspoken desires. "I see," he remarks at last, his voice a low, thoughtful rumble. One hand comes up to cradle your jaw, gently encouraging you to face him. His eyes search yours, beryl and intense, seeming to pierce through to your very soul.

He leans in closer, until his lips are a mere breath away from yours. You can feel the warmth radiating from his skin, the electric current of his proximity sending tingles down your spine. "Tell me then, love," he murmurs, his words a sinful whisper against your lips. "What is it you wish to try? What...sights do you want to see? What sensations do you yearn to feel?"

His other hand continues its sensual exploration of your curves, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. He's waiting, poised and ready, his body coiled with anticipation, his mind open to your every desire. "You need only say the word, sweet girl," he promises, his voice a low, hypnotic purr. "I'll make certain you experience only pleasure, only ecstasy. I'll take care of you, in every way imaginable."

The velvet purr of Stephen’s voice coaxes you from your shyness, a small adoring grin spreading across your lips, “Um, well, it probably sounds a bit extreme but, I’ve always been curious about,” You lean closer, bringing your mouth to his ear, whispering, “ Fisting…and I’d, um, like to squirt. If you think you could make me do…that.” You wince at the way you sound uncertain and awkward, the usual bravado you wore in the bedroom failing to make an appearance. 

Stephen inhales sharply, a surge of raw desire coursing through him at your confession. The air between you feels charged, electric, crackling with a tension that demands to be relieved. He takes a moment to compose himself, his eyes roving hungrily over your blushing face and quivering body.

"I see," he repeats softly, his voice a low, heated murmur. A slow, sensual smile curves his lips as he leans in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear. "You want to experience the ultimate height of carnal pleasure. The unparalleled bliss of...squirting." His hand slides down to your inner thigh, his fingertips trailing teasingly over your soft skin. Your breath hitches, a shudder of anticipation running through you at his touch.

"An ambitious goal," he continues, his voice a sinful purr. His hand inches incrementally higher, his touch maddeningly fleeting, maddeningly light. "One that will require...extensive preparation." His fingers dip teasingly beneath the hem of your skirt, brushing feather-light over the sensitive skin at the apex of your thighs. Your hips twitch, a soft gasp escaping your lips as your body responds eagerly to his touch.

"Lucky for you, my dear, I'm nothing if not thorough," he promises, his blue eyes glinting with a wicked, sensual light. "We'll start with the basics. Slowly, intimately, I'll bring you to the brink of climax again and again. Until your body is attuned to every breath, every touch, every heartbeat."

His hand cups your mound possessively, his thumb grazing lightly over your clothed sex. He can feel the damp heat of your arousal, the way your body yields so sweetly to his touch. "Then, once you've learned exquisite control, once you're dancing on the razor's edge of rapture...then we'll begin in earnest," he vows, his voice a dark, decadent growl. "And I'll unleash you to unparalleled heights of pleasure. Pleasure beyond anything you've ever felt before."

With those words, he claims your mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to dance with yours. It's a kiss that seals a dark promise, that is a testament to his sinful intent and ruthless dedication. Giggling and gasping as he swept you up so suddenly off the plush sofa, two big hands cradling your plump ass. You wrapped your arms around his strong neck, clinging to him as he carried you across the room. He deposited you gently onto the wide oak desk, the cool polished wood a shocking contrast to the scorching heat in your core. You gazed up at him with hooded doe eyes, taking in the sight of him looming over your smaller frame, his tall height and broad shoulders dwarfing you. You arched your back a little, presenting yourself to him, offering yourself up like a virgin sacrifice. Ready. More than ready. You could only imagine what fantasies played out in his head as he drank you in - his fingers digging into the soft, giving flesh of your ass, squeezing and kneading the ripe fruit of your ample backside. Surely he was envisioning all the debauched things he wanted to do to you, all the filthy ways he planned to claim and ruin your nubile young body until it was forever marked by the shape of his hands, his cock, his dominance 

Subconsciously, your thighs parted, inviting him to step between them. Stephen stands between them and pushes you down onto your back, pinning you beneath his muscular weight as he pressed the thick ridge of his erection against the damp patch darkening the crotch of your panties. A filthy promise of what was to come. Stephen’s hand clamped around your throat, not quite squeezing but unmistakably possessive. 

Stephen’s chest heaves as he struggles to regain his composure. But there is no gentleness in his gaze now, only a scorching, all-consuming hunger as he takes in the sight of you splayed out atop his desk. Hastily, almost ruthlessly, he begins to divest you of your clothes, tossing them carelessly aside until you are bare before him, your creamy skin glowing in the fading light of dusk.

"My God, you're exquisite," he breathes, his voice rough with appreciation. His hands map the curves of your body with a reverent, almost worshipful touch. Over the swell of your breasts, the dip of your waist, the flare of your hips. He leans down to press open-mouthed kisses to your skin, his tongue flicking out to taste you, to drink in your essence. His hands drift lower, hooking behind your knees to push them up and apart. He settles between your thighs, his breath hot against your aching, dripping sex. He inhales deeply, his eyes fluttering closed as he savors your scent.

"I can smell your arousal," he murmurs, his voice a gravelly rasp. His fingers part your slick folds, revealing the glistening pink flesh within. "Feel it, dripping down your thighs. Your body is weeping for my touch."

He runs a single, teasing finger along your slit, from your entrance up to your throbbing clit. Your hips jerk, a choked moan punching from your throat as your body responds eagerly to his touch.

"This is only the beginning," he vows, his azure eyes glinting with sinful promise. "By the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging for my every touch. Pleading for release, for the sweet oblivion of climax." With that declaration, he leans in and runs his tongue slowly, deliberately, along your dripping slit. A long, low moan spills from your lips, your fingers sinking into his hair to hold him tight against you, “Fuck, Daddy.” You whine, eyes fluttering shut at the wet heat of his clever mouth on your cunt.

Stephen groans against your sex at the sound of you crying out, the endearment falling from your lips like a plea. He doubles his efforts, his tongue delving deep into your dripping core, lapping up the slick evidence of your arousal. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmurs, his breath hot against your flesh. "I want you nice and loud for me, no holding back.”

He seals his lips around your clit, suckling the sensitive nub as two fingers plunge knuckle-deep into your fluttering channel. Your velvet walls clench greedily around the intrusion, as if trying to suck him in deeper. He pumps his fingers slowly, languidly, his thumb brushing over your clit with every thrust. His free hand comes up to palm your breast, kneading the pliant flesh, rolling the stiff peak between his fingers until you're arching into his touch. Your body is a live wire, every nerve ending sparking with sensation, every synapse firing in response to his wicked caress. He brings his head up to gaze at you, his jaw glistening with your juices, his eyes dark with lust. He looks ravenous, feral, every inch the apex predator about to devour his prey.

"Tonight, I'm going to eat this sweet cunt until you scream," he promises, his voice a dark, decadent growl. "Until you're drowning and begging for mercy. Only then will I let you cum."

With that, he dives back in, his tongue plunging deep, his fingers pumping harder, faster. Taking you to the brink of climax...and holding you there. Teasing you with the promise of release, but denying it at the last moment. Driving you mad with unfulfilled desire as he plays your body like a finely tuned instrument. An instrument that sings only one song: his name. It’s a vicious cycle that stays on a loop, Stephen expertly coaxing you to the very brink of gooey euphoria and leaving you there. Stagnant, hanging in a liminal space between heaven and nothingness.

Around the fourth denial, arousal burns into agitation. Your frustrations mounting with each flick of his tongue and curl of his fingers. A thin sheen of sweat covers your lithe form, chest heaving erratically as you try your damndest to maintain some semblance of patience for him. Stephen suckles on your clit, nudging you to the brink once more. Foolishly, you believe this is the time he’ll finally, finally let you come. But his mouth is gone and you’re groaning in annoyance of being denied, “Please, Daddy, please just let come. I’ve been good for you, I deserve it.” You whine, petulant and bratty, to emphasize your point, you wriggle your hips upwards imploringly.

Stephen pauses, his fingers still buried deep within your fluttering heat. He looks up at you, his eyes dark and intense as they meet your pleading gaze. A slow, wicked smile curves his lips as he takes in your desperation, your need. "Patience, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice a low, sinful rumble. "We're getting there. I promise you, your first time squirting will be a moment you'll never forget."

He withdraws his fingers slowly, reveling in the way your walls clench and flutter around the retreating digits. Leaning down, he laps at your dripping slit, cleaning you with long, slow strokes of his tongue. Every lap, every caress sends aftershocks of pleasure zipping through your body, stoking the fire in your core.

Rising up, he captures your mouth in a searing kiss, letting you taste yourself on his lips. His hands mold your breasts, kneading and squeezing the pliant flesh until you're arching into his touch, seeking more. Your hardened nipples strain against his palms, begging for a harsher touch. A sharper sensation. He breaks the kiss to trail his lips down the column of your throat, pausing to bite and suck at the sensitive skin where your neck meets your shoulder. Marking you. Claiming you. His teeth sink into your tender flesh, hard enough to leave a vivid bruise in the shape of his teeth. A brand. A warning to all who see: this pretty young thing belongs to him.

His hand drifts down your taut stomach, fingers splaying possessively over your lower belly. Leaning in close, he murmurs into your ear, "Breathe for me, sweetheart. Take a deep breath. Nice and slow. Breathe out with me as I take care of you." 

His fingers dip lower, parting your dripping folds to circle your swollen clit with a teasing touch. At the same time, he brings his thumb to your lips, pressing the digit between them. "Suck," he orders gruffly. "Get it nice and wet. I'm going to need that spit to stretch you out...nice and deep."

His words send a thrill of anticipation and just a hint of fear rioting through you. You suck obediently at his thumb, coating it liberally with your saliva before releasing it from your mouth. He brings the slick digit down to circle your puckered back entrance, the tight ring of muscles clenching reflexively at the unfamiliar touch. 

“What are you doing?” You gasp, scandalized, pushing up onto your elbows, eyes comically wide.

Stephen pauses, looking up at you with a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. His thumb continues its maddeningly slow circling of your puckered hole, applying just the slightest pressure, teasing you with the promise of penetration. 

"Oh, I thought I made myself quite clear," he murmurs, his voice a low, wicked drawl. "Tonight, I intend to claim every inch of this gorgeous body. Inside and out. Front and back."

He leans in closer, until his lips brush the shell of your ear. His breath is hot, his words a dark, sensual purr. "I'm going to stretch this tight little ass until you learn what it means to be truly filled. And then, once I've prepared you, once I've made certain you can take me..." He nips sharply at your earlobe, his teeth sinking in just hard enough to make you gasp. His hand drifts lower, fingers dipping teasingly between your ass cheeks to graze your dripping slit. "...then I'm going to fuck this sweet cunt so hard, so deep, you'll swear I'm in your womb. You'll feel me in your throat, sweet girl.”

He seals his words with a searing kiss, his tongue invading your mouth, dominating you utterly. Swallowing your whimpers, your moans, your gasped pleas. His touch never ceases its sensual torment, his fingers plundering your dripping sex, his thumb circling that tight, virgin hole with merciless intent. He's determined to break you down, to shatter you utterly. And then, only then, will he put you back together. Remake you in his image. His perfect, wanton plaything.

You can’t help the petulant whine that bubbles up from your throat, pouting, “Stephen, I told you I wanted to squirt. Not do…whatever this is.”

Stephen chuckles darkly, amused by your tone even as his eyes blaze with unchecked lust at the sight of your bratty pout. His hand tightens on your hip, gripping the flesh hard enough to leave bruises, to mark you as his.

"Hush, my impatient little baby," he purrs, his thumb pressing harder against your resistant pucker. Not quite breaching you, but applying relentless pressure. "Fucking this greedy cunt is all well and good. But last time I checked, I made the rules around here, and it’s my way or nothing at all."

He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a low, hypnotic murmur. "Squirting isn't just about the physical stimulation. It's about letting go. About surrendering yourself completely to sensation. And that..." He nips sharply at your throat, his teeth sinking in just hard enough to make you gasp. His thumb presses harder, the slick tip slipping just slightly past your tight ring of muscle, "...is something that demands intimacy. Trust. A bone-deep surrender that has nothing to do with lust and everything to do with...feeling."

His other hand drifts up your body, cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. "So tell me, sweet girl, do you trust me? Can you give yourself over to me completely?”

You relax under his gentle murmur, nodding demurely, the very picture of submission.

A dark, triumphant smirk curves Stephen's lips at your easily given submission. The feel of your tight, virgin hole yielding to his thumb sends a bolt of satisfaction through him. His own breath grows heavier, his chest rising and falling more rapidly as the anticipation builds. But he refuses to rush this. Refuses to deny himself the exquisite pleasure of savoring every single moment.

Slowly, maddeningly so, he works his thumb deeper into your resisting passage. Inch by hard-won inch, until he feels your velvety walls fluttering and clenching around the invading digit. His palm molds the curve of your ass, kneading and squeezing the pliant flesh as he primes your body to accept the girth of his thumb.

"Good girl," he murmurs approvingly, his voice a low, indulgent rumble. His fingers of his other hand skim along your flank, trailing over the dip of your waist, the swell of your hip. His touch scorches your skin, branding you, claiming you. "Remember, sweetheart - I'm not just fucking this hungry cunt. I'm fucking this body. Every goddamn inch of you.”

He punctuates his words by burying his thumb to the base in your upturned ass, his palm flush against your skin. At the same time, he plunges two long, blunt fingers knuckle-deep into your dripping sex, stroking that sensitive bundle of nerves tucked deep inside. "Feel it," he growls, his hips rocking urgently against yours like he's fucking into you for real. "Feel how hard this sexy little body is working to take me. To squeeze me. Milking my fingers like your greedy little cunt."

He pistons his fingers faster, harder, the sound of your whimpers and Stephen’s panting echoing through the room. His thumb curls subtly, stroking over the tender, untouched spot deep in your ass. Your lush body writhes beneath his touch, tears of overwhelmed pleasure streaking down your face. The telltale coiling in your gut signals your impending climax, inspiring a fresh wave of begging, “Please, don’t stop, right there! Can I come, Daddy? Please let me come, please. I’ve been so, so good for you.” You babble mindlessly, any coherent thought long gone from your brain. Your eyes roll back, a visceral shudder wracking through your body as your toes curl, spine arching clean off the desk. 

Stephen's eyes blaze with feral intensity as he takes in your debauched state, relishing every minute detail. The way your back arches, your spine bent in an exquisite curve. The way your thighs tremble, your toes curling in desperate, instinctive reaction to the pleasure coursing through your trembling body. The broken, lust-drunk whines spilling from your kiss-swollen lips. It's a symphony of sensation tailored just for him.

"Yes, sweetheart. Yes, you can. Fuck, you can!" he groans, his voice a dark, thundering growl. He doubles his efforts, fingers pumping wildly, thumb stroking that special, secret spot deep inside your virgin ass with ruthless precision.

"Come for me," he commands, his command punctuated by a sharp smack to your clit, the stinging jolt of pain and pleasure sending you hurtling over the edge. "Cum all over my fucking hand. Fucking soak my fingers like the needy little hole you are!"

He feels your cunt clamp down around his plundering fingers, your untouched ass squeezing his thumb in pulsing waves as an orgasm crashes through you. But still, he doesn't stop. He fucks you through it relentlessly, drawing out every last second of your climax until you're mewling and thrashing in the aftermath, too sensitive to take any more. "That's it," he praises darkly, his voice strained and urgent. He's hard as steel, his straining erection an aching throb against your thigh. "Fucking soak my fingers. Show me how badly you needed to come. Show me how good I am at wringing pleasure out of this gorgeous fucking body."

“I can’t,” you whine out, brows knitting together in frustration, “It’s not working, Steph. I can’t squirt.” Tears of defeat well up in your eyes, your desperation to experience this elusive feat reaching new heights. Stephen's eyes darken with determination at your whimper of frustration. He won't be denied. He won’t fail to give you exactly what you need, what you crave. Leaning in close, he catches your chin between his fingers, forcing you to meet his intense, burning gaze.

"Shhh, it's alright sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice a low, soothing rumble. His other hand continues its merciless assault on your overstimulated sex, fingers plunging deep, thumb stroking firm circles around that sensitive bundle of nerves. "You're just tired. Overwhelmed. But your body can take more. It needs more." He rolls his hips, grinding his aching erection against your thigh, letting you feel just how much he needs you. How desperate he is to claim you, to fill you, to mark you irrevocably as his.

"We'll try a different approach," he promises darkly. Withdrawing his fingers from your dripping sex, he brings them to his lips, making a show of sucking your arousal from the digits. His eyes never leave yours as he licks them clean, savoring your intimate flavor. "Delicious," he purrs, his voice a sinful rasp. His hand drifts back down, fingers delving between your thighs once more. But this time, instead of plunging inside your fluttering channel, he brings your knee up to your chest, folding you nearly in half. Exposed. Vulnerable. Utterly at his mercy. 

"The key to making you squirt," he explains darkly as he circles a fingertip around your entrance, "is to stimulate your G-spot and your cervix simultaneously. And I intend to do exactly that."

You tense up instinctively as Stephen eases one after another of his long, elegant fingers into your sticky cunt. Each new finger joins the others in massaging and relaxing your velvet walls. When all that remains is his thumb, he eases the tip of the final digit, his hand forming a duckbill shape. Stephen finally folds his thumb, his fist sinking into your cunt with minimal resistance. Stephen pauses, feeling your velvety walls clench and flutter wildly around his invading hand as he sinks deeper, curling his fingers into a tight fist. He murmurs soothing words of praise, his deep voice vibrating through your core. "Shhh, that's it sweetheart. Just relax. Let your hot little pussy take my fist. You're doing so well, baby. Fuck, you feel incredible squeezing around me like this. Such a perfect little cock sleeve for me to fuck."

 His other hand grips your hip, holding you in place as he starts to pump his fist slowly in and out of your stretched, dripping sex. The obscene sound of your arousal squelches loudly as he picks up speed, fucking you with his hand in deep, purposeful strokes. "That's it, baby. Take my fist. Fuck, you're so goddamn tight. I bet this hungry cunt is just aching to be filled up. Filled up and stretched wide around a big, thick cock. Doesn't that sound good, sweet thing?"

He leans down to capture your mouth in a sloppy kiss, his tongue delving deep to dominate yours. He swallows your gasps and whimpers greedily, reveling in the taste of your uncontrollable arousal. Your slick all but gushes out around his wrist, rivulets running down into the cleft of your ass. “My tummy feels weird, Daddy,” You moan brokenly, head lolling back, thighs spreading even wider to welcome his assault on your pussy.

Stephen feels a dark thrill at the way your lower abdomen distends slightly as he sinks his fist deeper, the obscene bulge visible through your soft skin. He thumbs over the tight stretch, marveling at the sensation of your silken walls rippling and squeezing his invading hand. "Mmmm, that's just your greedy little cunt making room for me," he murmurs, his voice a sinful rumble. "It's a beautiful sight, sweetheart. Watching your belly swell with the shape of my fist. You look fucking heavenly like this." He leans down to press open-mouthed kisses over your stomach, his lips brushing over the bulge of his own hand wrist-deep in your sex. Each kiss sends sparks of sensation singing through your core, stoking the fire building low in your gut.

"You're doing so well, baby," he praises, his breath coming faster, heavier. His hips start to move, once more grinding his aching erection against your thigh with desperate, urgent need. "Fuck, I can feel you throbbing around me. Your hungry little pussy is just begging to be filled up, isn't it sweetness? Begging to be stretched wide and fucked hard."

His fingers press into your cervix, rubbing firm circles over the sensitive patch of tissue. At the same time, his thumb seeks out your G-spot, stroking the hidden crevice with ruthless precision.

"This is it, baby," he growls, his eyes blazing with feral intensity as he stares down at you. "Arch your back, nice and hard. Curl your toes. That's it, baby. Good girl."

His fingers press deeper, rubbing faster, pushing you relentlessly towards the edge of a devastating climax. He can feel the telltale flutters, the rhythmic squeezing of your velvet walls as your pleasure builds to an inescapable crescendo. "Fuck, that's it!" he groans, his voice a dark, authoritative bark. "Squirt for me now, greedy girl! Fucking soak my hand!"

You sob in rapture, your entire body going rigid. The pressure in your belly, in your pelvis is brutal, like nothing you’ve ever felt in your life. Your cunt clamps down, the pressure unbearable. A violent, hard gush of fluid erupts from your throbbing pussy, you shriek, trembling from the intensity.

Stephen feels the exquisite, breathtaking moment that your orgasm crashes through you like a tidal wave. Your velvet walls clamp down around his fist with a crushing, vice-like grip, the pressure almost forcing his hand out of your spasming sex. But he holds on, determined to ride out your overwhelming climax with you, to feel every single second of your ecstasy. It soaks his hand, his wrist, dripping down to pool on the desk beneath you. The sensation is overwhelming, the intensity unlike anything you've ever experienced.

Stephen groans, a dark, ragged sound of pure bliss as he feels your release, your rapture, your absolute surrender to the pleasure he's wrung from you. He keeps fucking you through it with his fist, his motions slower, more deliberate as your pussy works to milk every last drop of your climax.

"That's it, baby," he praises hoarsely, his voice strained with his own desire. "Fuck, yes. That's my good girl. Squirting on command like a perfect little fuck toy. Such a  responsive little thing you are."

He leans down to capture your mouth in a deep, filthy kiss, swallowing your song of rapture, your cries of ecstasy. His tongue dominates yours, stoking the flames of your pleasure higher, hotter. He grinds his aching cock harder against your thigh, the damp spot on his boxers growing with each desperate, needy thrust. Finally, as the last waves of your orgasm ebb, he slides his fist carefully from your tender, over-sensitive sex. Bring it to his mouth, making a show of lewdly licking your release from his hand. His eyes never leave yours as he savors your intimate flavor.

“I wanna do it again,” You murmur in a soft, wrecked voice. Your pussy gapes, hole fluttering obscenely in the wake of his fist.

Stephen lets out a dark, wicked chuckle at your breathless, wrecked declaration. He leans in close, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he murmurs in a low, sinful rumble. "Greedy girl," he purrs, his voice heavy with indulgent approval. "Insatiable. Ravenous for pleasure. I love that about you."

He nips at your earlobe before soothing the sting with his tongue. His hand drifts down to your dripping sex, fingers skimming teasingly through the mess he's made of you. Collecting the proof of your desire, your need, your utter hunger for his touch.

"We can do it again, sweetness," he promises darkly. "Over and over, until you’re completely, utterly satisfied. But right now..." He rolls his hips, grinding his straining erection hard against your thigh. The damp spot on his boxers has grown, spread, until your thigh is sticky with the evidence of his own arousal. "...I need to be inside you. I need to fuck this sweet, perfect little pussy. Slow and deep. Hard and fast. Until you're choking on my cock and babbling my name like it’s the only word you know."

His fingers delve back into your dripping sex, sinking knuckle-deep, curling to stroke over that over-sensitive bundle of nerves. At the same time, he nudges your knees apart further, until they're splayed wide, completely exposed. Vulnerable. A dark, feral sound rumbles up from his chest as he takes in the debauched sight of you, flushed and trembling in the aftermath of your climax, your cunt gaping and fluttering obscenely around his invading fingers. He thumbs over your swollen, tender clit, drawing a choked moan from your kiss-swollen lips. 

"You want Daddy's cock, baby girl?" he murmurs, his voice a wicked rasp in the charged air. "Tell Daddy where you need it."

With a whimper, you spread your legs wider, presenting for Stephen, “Need you in there,” You run shaky fingers through your swollen folds, sighing softly, “I wanna squirt on your fat dick, Daddy.”

Stephen growls low in his throat at your needy, breathless plea, his eyes flashing with dark, heated hunger as he watches you touching yourself so wantonly. The sight of your dainty fingers delving through your swollen, slick folds, brushing maddeningly over your over-sensitive clit, sends a bolt of lust straight to his aching cock.

"Dirty girl," he rumbles approvingly, his large hand covering yours, stopping your movements. "Naughty, filthy tease. Touching yourself like that, when I'm right here. When you know I'm the only one who gets to make this greedy little cunt feel good."

He grips your hip with his other hand, fingers sinking into the lush flesh as he notches the leaking head of his cock at your entrance. A shudder runs through him at the scorching heat radiating from your core, the temptation to plunge inside and fuck you nearly overwhelming.

"Brace yourself, sweet girl," he warns, his voice a dark, strained rumble. He rolls his hips, painting your slit with the dripping precum leaking steadily from his tip. "Daddy's going to give this pussy exactly what it's begging for.”

With that promise looming over you, he starts to push forward. The bulbous head of his cock stretches you open, sinking past your swollen, gaping entrance. The stretch is delicious, the pressure exquisite as your hungry sex tries to draw him deeper, to suck him in.

"Fuuuuck," he groans, his eyes squeezing shut at the feel of your molten walls gripping him like a soaked, silken vise. He sinks another inch into your slick heat, his cock pulsing, throbbing with the need to bury itself to the hilt in your perfect little fuck hole.

"That's it, baby. Fuck, you're so goddamn tight. Squeezing me like a greedy little cock sleeve. Your hungry cunt wants Daddy's dick so fucking bad, doesn't it sweetness?"

He braces one hand by your head, the muscles in his forearm flexing as he starts to sink deeper, his heavy cock driving into your sleek sheath inch by excruciating inch. His other hand gripping your hip, holding you in place, forcing you to take every thick, throbbing inch as he claims you ruthlessly, relentlessly.

You need more. You need the dominance, the violence that only Stephen can offer you. So, you tilt your head back in an offering, “Choke me out. Wanna blackout on your dick, Daddy.”

Stephen's eyes blaze at your breathless plea, his lips curling into a dark, wicked smirk. The desperation in your voice, the way you're practically offering your life up to him, sends a thrill through his body. He can feel his dick throbbing inside your sticky sheath, your hungry walls squeezing him like a hot, slick fist.

"Dirty girl, " he growls in approval, his palm encircling your slender throat. He doesn't squeeze immediately, instead letting you feel the weight of his hand on your most vulnerable spot. A silent promise of dominance. Of utter control. "Dirty, filthy slut. Begging Daddy to choke you while he fucks this greedy little cunt.” 

He surges forward, burying another thick inch of his aching cock into your soaked, clenching sex. The breath rushes out of your lungs with a desperate moan, and his fingers tighten fractionally around your neck in response. Not squeezing yet, but letting you feel the pressure. The delicious, scary pressure.

"Breathe through it, baby girl, " he commands darkly, his hips rolling in a slow, deliberate grind against yours. Stirring his thick cock around in your molten heat as he starts to pick up speed. "Breathe through the burn, the ache. Fuck, you're squeezing me so goddamn tight."

His hand tightens around your throat as he starts to fuck you harder, deeper, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with each brutal, punishing thrust. He can feel your pulse beating wildly beneath his fingertips as he squeezes gently, not hard enough to fully cut off your air, but enough to make each breath a desperate, straining struggle. "That's it baby, fucking take it. Take Daddy's cock till you pass out.”

Drool leaks from the corners of your mouth, your lips parting in a small ‘o’. The thought of passing out, speared on Stephen’s thick cock sends a perverse thrill down your spine. Your eyes roll back till only the whites are visible, a full body shudder wracking through you. Stephen’s hand grasping and cutting off your airway turns your face a becoming shade of pink, your pulse slowing under Stephen’s fingertips.

The sight of your face flushing a beautiful, desperate shade of pink, the feeling of your pulse hammering against his palm, the way your eyes roll back in hedonistic bliss - it all sends Stephen spiraling into a red haze of lust. A dark, feral need to claim you, to ruin you, to fucking break you overtakes him. He wants to erase every inch of space between your bodies, to merge your flesh with his until you're no longer two separate beings, but one perfect, sweaty, panting, writhing entity driven solely by pleasure and pleasure alone.

He starts to pound into you like a man possessed, the obscene slap of skin against skin echoing through the room as he hilts himself in your scorching pussy over and over. Each brutal thrust punches the air from your lungs, forcing desperate, choked little wheezes past his fingers sealing your throat. Your head lolls to the side, your eyes fluttering wildly behind closed lids as you teeter on the knife's edge of consciousness.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you look so goddamn beautiful like this. Dopier than shit on Daddy's cock, barely hanging on, ready to fucking pass out. Ready to let Daddy fuck you into oblivion until the only thing left is this perfect little cunt squeezing me like a hot, soaked fist."

He leans down to capture your slack, drooling mouth with his own, swallowing your garbled cries and weak moans whole. He bites at your lower lip hard enough to taste blood, lapping hungrily at the coppery essence as he slams mercilessly into your battered sex.

"I'm going to fucking ruin you," he growls against your mouth, punctuating each word with a brutal, devastating thrust. "Swear to fucking god, I am. Gonna make this pussy my personal fuck hole. Gonna fucking break you. Fuck!"

With a rumbling groan, he hilts himself to the balls inside of your abused, clinging sex. His fingers tighten around your throat as his cock pulses, jerks, and finally erupts, pumping thick, hot ropes of cum directly into your waiting, eager womb. Stephen’s rough handling drags another mind-numbing gush of release from your cunt, your hips raising off the desk and trembling. You gasp for breath, desperate to relieve the burn in your lungs and chase away the blurred corners of your vision. Stephen’s abdomen and thighs drip with the remnant of your squirting, droplets shining in the low lighting. 

Through the haze of his release, he's dimly aware of your ragged, desperate inhale, followed by the telltale stillness of your body as consciousness starts to slip away. He loosens his grip on your throat just slightly, letting you drag in a thin thread of air as he rolls his hips languidly into yours, working the last spurts of his climax into your hot, clasping sex.

"That's my good girl," he murmurs hoarsely, his lips brushing the sweat-damp skin of your throat as he feels your trembling start to subside. "Taking Daddy's cock and cum like you were made for it. Made to be Daddy's perfect little cock sleeve."

He rolls to the side, bringing you with him as he settles onto the desk, your limp, sated body draped over his. He strokes your hair, your back, tracing the elegant curve of your spine as he feels your breathing slowly return to normal. His softening cock slips from your messy cunt with a filthy squelch, your combined release leaking out to mat the curls of your mound.

You’re too wrecked to move, allowing Stephen to maneuver your body to his preference. After a moment, you murmur tiredly, vocal cords raw from your enthusiastic shrieks, “Yeah, you definitely know your way around the human body.”

Stephen chuckles lowly, a rough, gravelly sound rumbling through his chest. He pulls you tighter against him, one hand splayed possessively across your lower back while the other cups the back of your head, his fingers threading into your damp hair.

"Mmmm, you're not so bad yourself, sweetness," he murmurs, his lips curled into a slow, satisfied smirk. "Such a quick learner. And so goddamn responsive. The way you came apart on my cock... fuck, it was beautiful."

He shifts your limp body, situating you until you're draped fully over his chest, your cheek pillowed on his shoulder. His hand slides down to cup the soft, rounded globe of your ass, squeezing the supple flesh approvingly. He can feel the sticky evidence of your coupling slowly cooling on your skin, the lewd scent of sex and sweat and satisfaction heavy in the air around you.

"But I'm not done with you yet," he promises darkly, his voice a low, wicked rumble. He rolls his hips lazily into yours, letting you feel the renewed stirrings of his desire, the slow awakening of his cock between your thighs. "I'm going to fuck you over and over again until you’re nothing but a fountain.”

He leans in closer, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear as he murmurs, "I hope you didn't have any plans for the rest of the weekend, baby girl. Because Daddy's going to keep you naked and full of his cock for the foreseeable future. We've barely even scratched the surface of all the filthy things I want to do to you."

[jasmarie2600]

Ideas I have floating around in my head, in case anyone ever wants to helps me plan out this Doctor Strange AU (I think I will continuously add on to it as more ideas pop into my mind)

• Wong is part of this, I think he’s either be Stephen’s magician assistant or something.

•My idea is that Christine is attending one of Stephen’s magic shows (he’s a Sorcerer in this universe, but just passes it off as being a magician, basically for money) (they’re also not allowed to tell anyone that Sorcerers actually exist, but Stephen will break that rule later) Stephen ends up getting hurt, maybe cause he summons a dangerous creature or something and everyone’s like, “wow so real!” And Christine being a nurse, helps him to a hospital. I think he would wake up and see Christine, thinks he’s dead cause she’s so beautiful, and would also audibly say “Am I dead? You look like an angel” and Christine would just become flustered and explain to him. And just nurse him back to health and they grow closer cause of that. (Also, wasn’t sure if I wanted Stephen to start off with facial hair or not, I was thinking maybe he grows the facial hair while he’s being taken care of at the hospital, and Christine says she likes it, so he keeps it)

•Feel like Stephen would ask Christine if she’d like to be his lovely assistant for some of his magic shows, she agrees but she’s still a nurse first. Wong is happy that he gets a little break and it helps Christine & Stephen get a little closer too. But Christine will still think that Stephen is somewhat of a ladies man (just a smidge)

•He asks Christine out (whatever the equivalent of Late Victorian Era, asking out is??)

•Idk if Niagara Falls was a popular tourist destination at this time, maybe? I’m going to assume it was. (This was the only place I could think that would be great for a date and also it’s near New York so..)

•This is when some of the spiciness starts: after a few dates, they go on a trip somewhere on a train. Like a 1 or 3 day trip on a train, little romance insues and when they’re going back home they maybe make out a little (or just full blown sex on a train somehow) idk I just imagined Christine saying she enjoyed her time with him, puts her hand on his cheek, they kiss, Stephen kisses her hand, then just full blown sexy times. The sexual tension has been boiling over for awhile now.

• It’s just really sweet, their first time together is more sweet and romantic. Opera sex is where we really get somewhere haha

•Also had a dream of some kind of plot where, I guess Stephen and Christine have a falling out, and she tries to make him jealous by going out with that Nick guy (you know Nick, that one guy who hates Stephen in the movie pff) The scene involved all 3 of them at a cafe or restaurant or something (and Wong tagged along too, for emotional support) and Christine just like starts French Kissing, Nick for a long time, making moaning sounds, again, to make Stephen jealous. And Stephen is just like faking a smile, with a slight head tilt the whole time but getting made the whole time. And Wong’s just like 😬 cringe.

•(More spice 🥵🥵) Stephen likes “hey guys, let’s go to an opera!” All 4 go, and Stephen gets Christine by herself and apologizes and says he’s sorry and maybe that he loves her too, Christine is like “I just want you to make love to me.” They have mind blowing sex during the opera, somewhere haha. (They both climax during the final epic dramatic opera note!!! 🎶🎶) (Stephen gets the very tongue-y, wet French Kiss & moans this time)

• (this fits more with the Opera sex tbh) Stephen “Since I’m sure that you know so much about the human body, being a nurse. Am I doing this right?” Christine “Yes, you are” (idk what they’re doing but they’re both enjoying it haha) (on second thought, he’s probably fondling her, they’re probably fondling each other TBH) Kissing each other’s bodies, all that good smutty stuff!

•During all this, Wong and Nick are just sitting together in silence, Wong tries his best to start a convo, they’re both wondering where the heck Christine & Stephen went and why it’s taking so long (idk this needs SOME humor)

•Obviously Christine breaks it off with Nick and her and Stephen end up back together. Wong’s like “how did your talk go?” Stephen is just all post-sex blissed out is like “Great”, Christine “We’re great”. Wong, under his breath “I’m sure you are” Stephen, gives him a quick side glare. They both had to fix themselves up pretty good after the amazing sex they had, they manage to look like nothing happened)

• Maybe Christine & Stephen get into a fight and break it off for a bit, because Stephen tells her that he’s actually a Sorcerer. And idk she gets cause he didn’t trust to tell her (after he proves it). But he only lied to her because he didn’t want her to get hurt. After they get back together, he freely shows her his magic and she loves it.

•I feel like Christine would wear this dress

• Mordo exists now (since I guess he’s the main Doctor Strange villain so far) or Nick too?? Maybe? I feel like Mordo will find out that Stephen cares for Christine a lot and use that to his advantage. Feel like he can kidnap Christine and be like “You’re very beautiful, and very much Strange’s type. I can see why he’s been protecting you.”

•Mordo would probably confront Stephen first (forgot if Mordo still has sorcerer powers too, he hasn’t been on screen in awhile haha 😬) but maybe he reads Stephen’s mind and he’s like “Who’s this…Christine?” Stephen: “She’s nobody of your concern.” Mordo: “For someone who isn’t of my concern, she sure occupies a lot of your mind, some would say, your every thought actually.” (Then maybe they fight or Stephen gives him a very proper threat idk)

[thedaredevilsgirl]

False God

Priest!Stephen Strange X Reader

Warnings: Small discussion, SMUT: sex without a condom.

Hi, this is Ray. In this short excerpt we have Father Strange so in love with one of his devotees, since a little forbidden love never hurt anyone. This excerpt was taken from a story I've been planning for some time, inspired in Thou Shalt Not Covet by @daydreamtofiction and the song False God by Taylor Swift. Please let me know what you think and if you think I should start posting the first chapters of this story. I hope you enjoy it. -Forgive any grammatical errors, English is not my first language-

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... "I need an answer, God," the priest says, now on his knees, begging the Lord to respond and help him with his dilemma. "I just need an answer."

It is at that exact moment that Strange hears the heavy church door opening and closing, rising to look at the candlelit hallway that highlighted a silhouette so familiar to him.

Stephen feels his breath falter; the vision before him, walking toward him, was wicked and sinful for his thoughts, yet still seemed deliciously divine.

You were there, soaked from the heavy rain falling outside, the dress you had worn earlier at the festival now clinging to your body.

"It’s late," Stephen says, after gathering the courage to finally speak to you. "What are you doing here? You should be home by now."

"I need to confess," you explain, your voice trembling, perhaps a little nervous.

"It’s past midnight, the church is closed, come back tomorrow," he didn't mean to be harsh, but thought it was the only way to get you to leave quickly, though he was wrong.

"I need to confess," you repeat, making it clear you wouldn’t leave until you got what you wanted. "God’s house doesn’t close to a believer, no matter the hour. You, of all people, should know that, Father Strange."

Being called Father Strange by you hurt. Just days ago, you were close, perhaps even friends. He had grown used to hearing your sweet voice calling him Stephen, until he had given in to temptation during the trip to New York. Hearing you be so polite with him now reminded him of how greatly he had erred.

"You’re right," Stephen knew he would regret it, but he already felt so guilty for everything he had done with you that he couldn’t deny your wishes any longer.

The two walk silently to the large confessional in the corner of the church. He could hear everything even through the wooden wall, listening to your trembling breath as you prepared to speak, watching through the small window as you made the sacred sign of the cross.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," you begin.

"Tell me what happened, and we will decide your penance."

"I am engaged," the small reminder of this fact made Stephen’s heart ache in his chest. "And he is a good man, a really good man, but I don’t love him. In fact, I feel like I’ve never truly loved him, but my family adores him, and this union would be great for everyone."

"The church does not support a marriage built without true love," the priest says, trying to hide from both you and himself that, in reality, he was more than pleased to know of your lack of love for that idiot your family had chosen for you.

"I know, I know, but I must marry him; it’s what everyone expects of me, what they’ve always wanted for me, and I simply cannot ruin their plans," the pain in your voice and exhaustion was palpable, trying to be the perfect daughter and feeling like you had to carry the world on your shoulders. "So I must marry him, try to love him, respect him, and be faithful to him," you take a deep breath before continuing. "But that’s the problem, Father. I’m in love with another man. More than that, I lay with this man, and forgive my words, but damn, I loved every bit of it."

Stephen says your name in a warning tone. "I think we’d better not talk about this," he doesn’t have time to finish reprimanding you, as you quickly interrupt him.

"But the next day, he left me. He said the best night of my life had been a mistake that couldn’t be repeated, said we should stay away from each other. Suddenly, I lost a faithful friend, a confidant, and he broke my heart."

"Stop, please," he pleads.

"And I should be happy about that," your tone rises, emotions overwhelming you. "I should kneel before God and be thankful, go back to living my life as if none of this had happened, but I can’t."

"Stop," Stephen repeats, not knowing what he could do if this went on.

"I can’t, because all I can think about is him, his voice, his advice, his touch," the sound of your footsteps in the booth is audible. "And I don’t know what to do anymore. I find myself in the middle of the night wishing he were there with me, craving his kiss, touching myself wishing he would touch me that way, desiring every part of him, desiring you."

The priest felt he might explode at any moment, give in to his temptations, and worst of all, he wanted it. He had wanted it for a long time.

The curtain on his side of the booth suddenly opens, and he finds himself face to face with you, panting, still wet from the rain, tears streaking your face.

"So tell me, Father," you move closer to where he was sitting, "tell me what I should do when all I want is you?"

"This...this isn’t right," it was the first time in years Stephen found himself stammering with nervousness.

"I KNOW, DAMN IT, I KNOW," you shout, unable to contain yourself any longer. "But I can’t, I can’t resist anymore. I’ve tried, I’ve been trying since the day I met you, and I know you’ve been trying too. Don’t lie to me."

Your hand rests gently on his face, making him sigh. He had missed your touch so much in the past weeks.

"Please, don’t do this," Strange whispers, looking at you, his beautiful blue eyes now darkened by his dilated pupils. He does nothing to pull away, one of his hands moving directly to your waist.

"Tell me to leave, and I will. I’ll only step into this church again on my wedding day, and then you’ll never see me again. But I know you want me here, I know you want me."

He couldn’t resist anymore, not now, not ever.

Stephen pulls you tightly by the waist, guiding you to sit on his lap, finally kissing you again. This time was different; it wasn’t gentle. Instead, he poured all the longing he had felt into that kiss, aggressively holding you tightly as if you might slip away from his arms at any moment, his hand moving up the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair, deepening the kiss even more.

"I missed you," you whisper between kisses.

"I don’t think I could put into words how much I missed you."

His other hand slides down one of your thighs, removing the friction of the wet fabric of your dress from your body. The only thing you could feel in that moment was the immense pleasure of his body’s heat against yours, sighing in pleasure as his finger neared the wetness already forming in your panties.

You are quick to unzip his pants and touch his already hard cock.

Everything happens quickly, both of you burning with desire, just wanting to feel each other and quench the longing that had consumed you for weeks.

He doesn’t even bother removing your panties, just pushing them aside and making you slide down onto his cock, a long moan escaping your lips, tears of pleasure welling up in your eyes.

You move, experimenting with the different position, holding onto him even tighter, watching him and unable to contain your sounds of delight with each new movement.

Stephen feels himself nearing the edge, and he doesn’t care if he’s coming too quickly. All he could think about in that moment was how beautiful you looked riding him, the most divine vision he had ever seen in his life. If he were to go to hell for this, it didn’t matter—it was worth it.

He wraps a finger around your necklace, with its silver crucifix, pulling you in for one last kiss as the two of you reach your climax.

You rest your head on his shoulder, recovering, feeling his arms holding you tightly.

"Don’t leave me, Stephen, please," you whisper. "I need you."

"I won’t, not ever," his hand gently caresses your back, comforting you. "I promise you."

⋆ ﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏❂﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏⋆

@ironstrange1991 (You commented that I could tag you in the posts about Stephen, so I hope you like it )

Let me know if you want to be tagged in my next stories 💞

[youlightmeupriorson]

Smart Mouth | Stephen Strange x Fem!Reader 18+

a/n: so this little fic stems from a dream i had a couple nights ago that went just like this... note to self. don't take a melatonin and read spicy strange 😋 or do if you want to wake up the following morning in quite a sweat 😅🦋

warnings: spicy strange, hint of choking, Strange is def a dom while reader is a sub, no full-blown smut but enough to tease, and Wong being comedic relief

“Why are you hiding from Strange?” Wong asks from his spot at the table in the library. You lift your eyes to stare at him, pretending that the book in hand occupies your attention. 

“I’m not hiding from him.” You huff. 

No, you most certainly were hiding from Stephen. You had annoyed him earlier during a training session to the point that you had the audacity to question his skill. And he was a man who never wanted to be tested, especially by the likes of you. 

“I heard you screaming at him earlier,” Wong whistles. 

“Wong,” you mutter with a warning shot behind your tone. 

“Yes?” he responds with a snort. 

Huffing, you roll your eyes and return to the book. Of course, it was a book you’ve read many times before in the past, one that if Stephen finds you reading will judge you immensely. They were words that you simply glanced over, the meaning behind them not in the least of your worries. You just wanted to get away from him. But now you regretted coming to the library because you knew Wong loved to tease you about your unbridled attraction to Stephen. 

“Stop staring at me,” you can feel the intensity of his eyes on the side of your head but he did that all on purpose. He chortles, tsking you as he flicks to another page. He knew it wouldn’t be long before you and Stephen broke one another. He just loved witnessing the buildup. He claimed that you and Stephen’s interaction was far more interesting than a soap opera on television. As you slide further into your seat, your ears catch the faint flickering of what could only be–

“What are you doing?” Stephen demands, stepping out of the portal. His dark red cloak – which you nicknamed Cloaky to get on Stephen’s nerves – whips with the movement. 

“She’s hiding from you,” Wong belly-laughs but quiets when you send him a death glare. 

“You’re hiding from me?” Stephen approaches you. “You should be learning.” he takes the book from your hands. “Why is this here? This is Twilight.” 

“Is it?” you answer defiantly, pretending that you had not one ounce of care in your bones. Which at this moment, you didn’t. “Huh. Guess vampires like mystical arts too, yeah? Can you finally tell me why Edward Cullen sparkles in the sunlight?”

Wong snorts from behind you, this time Stephen delivering the fatal glare. 

“What is wrong with you?” he demands, crossing his arms in that judgemental way he only knows how to. 

“Nothing, Master Doctor. Nothing.” you shrug her shoulders. Stephan pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Can you go away now? I was really enjoying my read.” you pluck the hardcover out of his hands. 

“You didn’t look like you were enjoying your read. You looked like you were hiding from him.” Wong continues to play both sides.

“Stay out of it!” You and Stephen both announce at the same time. Stephen looks down at you and huffs. 

“Come on,” he slams the book shut and tosses it in Wong’s direction. “We’re trying this again.”

“No, we’re not.” you shake your head at him. “You got your balls twisted because I told you that I could do better than you. Maybe drop your ego and listen.” you cross your arms over your chest.

“You know what your problem is? That mouth. It constantly runs. No wonder you can’t learn anything. When you should be paying attention to someone greater at the arts than you, you’re running your mouth! Do you have an off-button?” Stephen hisses.

You snarl. “Sure do. But it’s in a place you’ll never touch,”

Stephen grows heated by your words. Wong wished he could summon popcorn because his daily soap opera was on and boy was it getting good. His eyes look back and forth like he’s watching a tennis match, seeing how Stephen would possibly react to the strong-willed nature of you. The elder draws in a sharp breath hands resting on his hips. You scoot your chair back, wood scraping against the floor, and stand before him. 

“Well? Anything else before I’m dismissed?” you smile.

He underestimated you incredibly. You take another dangerous step closer and rest your hands on his wrists. “Or is this the part where we kiss and makeup and I promise to do better?” you pout, bottom lip dramatically pushed out. Stephen’s blue eyes appear much more like blue flames. The heat of his body radiates, almost pulverizing your resistance to not try and tear his clothes off. 

“We can’t keep doing this and you know it,” Stephen lets down his resolve only slightly but it was far too much because you sneakily took the sling ring off his hand and in one quick motion, opened a portal to the outside of the sanctum. You had at least managed that art. You giggle as you toss the ring back to him, the portal collapsing shut, the only fragments left being an amber-colored spark. 

“Oooh, she’s good,” Wong comments. “She got you real good, Strange.” 

“Wong!” Stephen growls. “Who’s side are you even on?” 

Wong shrugs his shoulders. “Right now? Hers. Stealing your slingy and opening a portal to escape through? Smart girl.”

Stephen looks down at the ring in his hand.

“I can’t believe she stole my slingy,” he mutters before shaking his head and opening a portal to chase you. You’re happily walking down the sidewalk in front of the sanctum, the loud beeping of car horns informing you that Bleecker Street is very much alive. 

You whistle, unknowing of the consequences that are about to find you. You take the next corner and walk just beneath an oak tree when out of nowhere, a portal opens and Stephen is darting out in front of you. 

“Oh crap,” You skid to a halt, turning around and racing in the other direction. He was walking like prey after their meal, blue eyes bright like an incoming iceberg. Only this time, you were the Titanic about to be struck. 

You quickly speed-walk, whispering incoherent sentences in your mouth. You glance over your shoulder and see that he’s disappeared into thin air. Maybe the city was on fire. Maybe Bruce decided to throw something at someone’s car. Maybe Thor–

“Where are you going?” Stephen’s voice is loud and right in your face. A gasp flees your mouth as Stephen’s tall stature looks even bigger when you’ve been caught. You swallow and look up at him, his body inches from yours.

“Away,” you say, attempting to duck out from under his arm but it was useless. Stephen entraps you against the yellow parked taxi cab, hands bracing the hood. You can only peer so many inches above his muscular forearms. His chest rose and fell in a steady pattern but his facial expression told the story. With a clenched jaw and twitching hands, you had royally ticked him off. 

“Are you mad because I took your stupid ring, made a portal, and ran away from you?”

“Actually, yes. Yes, I am.” Stephen grumbles. “You’re inexperienced. That was stupid.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh so now I’m stupid?” 

Stephen grimaces. “Women… No. You’re not stupid. But what you did was stupid. You could’ve opened a portal to a different place where I would’ve had to save you instead of punishing you.” 

You chuckle, observing him under your lashes. “Whatever. You’re not gonna do shi-” 

Your words are cut short and your breath is strangled when Stephen suddenly wraps his hand around your throat. He presses the entirety of his weight against your body and for a moment, you can feel every ounce of heat radiated from beneath his robes. He glares at you with a sinister look in his eye, his hold on your throat making you experience a head rush. 

“You listen up and listen well, darling. That little game you played? Irresponsible. You’ve made me very upset, but do you understand what that means? It means you’re deserving of a punishment, and oh darling am I going to punish you… I’ll have these pretty little cheeks all damp with tears, this aching core of yours dripping with my cum. I’ll have you so spent you won’t be able to train tomorrow morning. You’re my toy tonight and I’m not going to stop playing with you until I’m satisfied. Do you understand?” 

Your body develops chills. He turned you on so badly. You lick your lips and nod your head as he presses his thumb over your pulse, feeling the sudden ramping of your heart rate. 

“What does a good girl say to the man who owns her?” Stephen’s warm breath fans your lips. 

“Yes sir,” you gasp, feeling his grip loosen. He lets your throat go and you cough, working to catch your breath.  “Good girl,” Stephen grips your hand and opens a portal– one that leads you directly into his bedroom for the punishment of your life.

[pinkthick]

Hands on the window

18+ MINORS DNI!!

Pairing: Surgeon!Stephen Strange x Fem!Reader

Summary: “This is such a fantastic view.” You muttered not excepting Stephen to hear.

He replied, looking only at you “Sure is.” and Stephen gently pulled your hair back, kissing your shoulder sweetly. “Now, put your hands on the window.”

Billy just dropped you off and you entered the elevator quickly and pressed the lobby's button then leaned back to the wall — opposite to the elevators door, waiting for it to close. You sighed heavily, feeling utterly exhausted after a long day at work. You looked up at the numbers on the screen above the elevator door, watching them slowly tick upward as the elevator made its way to 12th floor.You closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the brief respite from the chaos of your day at the hospital. As much as you loved your job, sometimes it felt like you were running on fumes. When the elevator dinged, signaling that you had arrived at her floor, you pushed yourself away from the wall and stepped out into the hallway. You fished your keys out of your pocket and trudged down the hallway to Stephen’s penthouse.

Thoughts of Stephen being at least asleep since he had the day off crossed your mind as you opened the door and entered, but they were quickly dispelled. Here he was, wide awake— Stephen was in the kitchen waiting for the microwave to finish heating up his meal, the TV running in the background. Idiot. He quickly turned to face you, grinning, and moved closer. “Long day?”

“You have no idea.” You said as you kicked off your shoes and struggled to take off your coat. To your surprise, Stephen held his arms out and said “Let me take this for you.” You gratefully handed over your coat, bag, and shoes, feeling a weight lifting off your shoulders. Stephen hung up your coat on the nearby rack and set your bag and shoes neatly by the door. Hmm, something isn’t right. He isn’t usually this thoughtful.

Before you could bury yourself in any other thoughts, Stephen suddenly pressed his lips against yours. Ah, right. His tongue probed your mouth and you opened your lips right away, moving both your hands to his neck to intensify the kiss as you allowed your tongues to meet. The kiss was fervent but still passionate and he grabbed your waist to pull you closer, even though that was barely possible anymore, and the two of you could feel the heat running through your veins as the kiss deepened.

You two were almost running out of air when the microwave beeped suddenly and you seperated from eachother. “I missed you Y/N.” he whispered and then took ahold of your hand.

“Oh come on, I was only gone for about 9 hours Stephen.” You said as you panted and followed him through the kitchen.

“Mhm. Too much.” He replied as he adjusted his pants without much shame.

He took the plate of food from the microwave and you raised an eyebrow at him “You should start to eat healthier” and Stephen rolled his eyes at you as you pulled away from him finally, moving to the island in his kitchen and pulling out one of the stools to sit down as he spoke. “By the way I saw a documentary about Henry Norman Bethune and let me tell you—“

“Stephen.” You groaned in frustration as you reached for a strip of bacon.

He chuckled, that beautiful baritone voice making your knees melt “I did relax today.” he stated as a matter of fact.

“You were supposed to rest.” You pointed out as you took a bite of the bacon.

“I did!”

“Uh huh.” He just smiled, walking around the counter to come behind you and wrap his arms around your body, pressing his nose into your neck and breathing you in. “I did rest today. Y/N, I really did.” You turned your head to look at him shaking your head at him, but you still gave him a soft kiss as he tightened his arms around you.

Without a warning Stephen grabbed you by the hips and placed you up on the island. The neurosurgeon caught the lobe of your ear between his teeth and bit down gently. Your breath hitched, and your hips jerked as he moved himself, now your hips being pressed together. You could feel his hardened cock and Stephen’s hand moved into your hair as both of you tilted your heads to deepen the kiss.

But you pulled back as you said “Can we go somewhere else?” You asked as you tried to catch your breath “Whenever we do it here my back hurts afterwards.” Stephen gently nipped at your bottom lip as he let out a chuckle. “Sure” and you giggled quietly at his simple response. Stephen grabbed your hips again as you brought your hand against his toned chest.

The two of you were tangled together, limbs and hands and hips connecting and rubbing and feeling. Your kisses were bruising, rough, and sloppy. Wet. Pictures hanging on the walls fell with a crash, and stacks of books tipped over as they bounced around the hallway. Both of you tore at each other’s clothes, stumbling further into the flat. You thought that you’d end up on the couch, but to your surprise Stephen went past it. “Stephen?”

But he didn’t respond as he let you down for a little bit. You felt a little self-concious since you were literally naked in front of the large windows. But Stephen just smirked as he wrapped his arms around your waist once again and pulled you gently towards him. You couldn't miss the insistence of his erection prodding your back. You tried to focus on your breathing as you gazed out at the spectacular view. The city skyline sparkled in the night, a sea of lights that seemed to stretch on forever. You had always loved the view from here, the way it made you feel small and insignificant, yet connected to something larger than yourself. “This is such a fantastic view.” You muttered not excepting Stephen to hear.

He replied, looking only at you “Sure is.” and Stephen gently pulled your hair back, kissing your shoulder sweetly. “Now, put your hands on the window.”

“What? But Stephen—“ you looked shocked at him as he interruped you.

“Put your hands on the window.” He repeated himself. You raised an eyebrow but did as you were asked to and slowly placed your hands on it. “Good girl.” He brushed his fingers over your hip and towards your clitoris – and gently circled it. You gasped; then moaned. “S—Stephen.”

“Don’t you dare take your hands off the window.” The doctor murmured as in the window’s reflection, you met his gaze and smiled.

You responded to his touch immediately and Stephen finally slid one finger into your pussy. You shifted and gasped, wanting more from him.

“I’ll fuck you against this window.” And he slid another finger into your deleciously hot and wet pussy as he continued “Who knows if someone will look at us?”

You didn’t reply but you got wetter and that didn’t go unnoticed by Stephen.

He smirked “Atta girl, getting excited over the fact that someone could watch us.”

“I don’t—even know why it does.” You stammered, a blush covering your whole face as Stephen pushed you against the window harder, your breats now full on display for anyone who would look into the direction’s of the windows. The neurosurgeon piled up your hair in his hand and slowly started fo kiss your neck. You started to grind a little against his fingers and finally he angled you into a position, lined his cock up to your glistening pussy and he wasted no time to thrust in hard with a groan of satisfaction.

You found yourself plastered against the window because of the thrust and you closed your eyes for a little bit. You just didn’t understand why you were so turned on by the fact that someone could see the two of you having sex.

Just imagining someone coming home to just see the two of you in front of them, being fucked, hard, from behind. Your full breasts bounce with every thrust. Your head is thrown back, and your mouth is open. You’re moaning. Or screaming. You didn’t know anymore.Just to think that someone could jerk off because of your little adventure..fuck. You gasped when you felt Stephen’s hand press onto your stomach, feeling how he was sliding in and out of you. It was such a turn-on for both of you, each movement he made was sweet, relentess tourture. “Stephen—I’m going..to come.”

Stephen kept up with his thrusts, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “No, you’re not.” The doctor didn’t even sound like he was out of breath, that fucking bastard.

Oh fucking hell — you were so close. You would have probably rubbed your own clitoris, if it wasn’t for the fact that you couldn’t remove your hands from the window. And really sometimes you would cherfully wrap your hands around his throat and just—

Stephen changed his angle and thrust up against your g-spot.

You whimpered loudly then begged “Please!”

“Please, what?” He asked as he kept his pace up.

“Please, sir!” And he just chuckled at how pathetic you probably sounded.

“No.” He replied with a smirk and you could see his eyes glittering in the reflection. Okay, that’s it.

You screwed your eyes shut and breathed in and out — it’s that how he wants to play.. then be it and you contracted your vaginal muscles as hard as you could.

“Fuck!” He stuttured, losing his rhythm. You did it again, holding it just a little bit longer this time and that made Stephen lose his mind.

“Christ…” he began to speed up and you finally heard his breathe start to labour.

“Please, I want you to fill me up.” You whispered and that seemed to turn a switch in Stephen’s brain, even if you weren’t very good at dirty talking —it just made you feel too self-councious — so this would have to do. It was bringing you to the brink of an orgasm again, so you just prayed that Stephen was also losing control.

“I know what you’re doing, woman.” He said as he bit into your shoulder and you left out a loud moan, but you contracted your muscles again and he swore loudly and you continued “Don’t you think it will feel good when I’m filled to the brim?”

“Fuck you.” He moaned and his cock pulsed stream after stream of come inside. You, at last, gave in into your orgasm. Stephen held you very tightly against him as you both breathe hard and he took your hands off the window slowly and kissed then softly. You looked at the window which was a bit..dirty. Both of your eyes locked through the reflection of the window again and Stephen’s gently brushed his fingers along your waist which sent a shiver down your spine but you couldn’t help but smile as you playfully asked “Who will clean the window?”

And Stephen chuckled as he gently guided your face with his hand towards his mouth and he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips “Don’t worry about it. You should rest. How does a bath sounds?”

And you murmured against his lips “Sounds heavenly.”

Notes: Trying to get out of my writer’s block. Promise I’ll try to take requests soon.

Tag list: @strangesgirls @paola-carter @hamandchickensandwhich @captainannamerica @ivyheliotrope @lilithskywalker @yumeillu @winter-cant-decide @andlizeth @mintssanctuary @strangesslut @rotindselain @herseraphwings @kujosux @alahmorah @sa-filonzana @kety25jhosson @alchemxx @lucimorningst4r @dragonqueen89 @rinacreateart @clockblobber @quillweavianstuff @k1mikoz @mynamehasbeentakenbysomeperson @crazyhearttragedy @bobateadaydreams @darlingxgirl @crushingonfreddie @cloudedfairydust @robertdowneyhiddlesbatch @cemakkilic @d0ct0rstrangewife @annabelloki @allie131313 @paola-carter @annemarielovesbeenjuice @hamandchickensandwhich @strangelockd

[iamsherlocked1479]

Happpy New Year

Stephen Strange x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: explicit content 18+, slut shame, chocking

Description: Stephen doesn't like that you recived a compliment, he doesn't like that somebody would even consoder they had a chance with you.

——————————

Most people are drunk right now, you’re not denying that you were, of course nobody leaves a Stark party completely sober. All beat it, most of the guests haven’t left yet, they were currently counting down to midnight last you heard the ball will drop in 10 minutes, but you couldn’t care right now. You’re currently pressed up against the padded wall of what looks like a gym, technically you hadn’t left Stark Tower yet, with your legs neatly parted over Stephen's shoulders as his tongue glided through your slick folds. 

“Oh fuck steph- we’re gonna miss the countown, we have to- shit.” Your eyes squinted shut and your hand tightened in his hair as he drew you closer to an orgasm. Your statement was thoroughly met with a grunt and a quick “I don’t care sweetheart” as his tongue continued to lap its way around your clit.

This had all started because Thor complimented your dress, he meant no harm of course only stating that you should belong with the Asgardian gods. But like always Stephen was jealous, he hated that a man would even consider himself worthy of being able to see you the way he did, a goddess in your own right. So after that one incident, at exactly 11:49pm Stephen had enough of the looks you were getting, even though you only had eyes for him, and proceeded to pull you into the nearest empty room and show exactly how only he could make you feel.

“Shhh, sweetheart, don’t want anyone hearing those sweet sounds you make for me.” He said, snaking his hand up your body to cover your mouth as you came. He lifted your legs off his shoulder and pinned you between him and the wall. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he kissed you, your hands continued to work on the buttons of his shirt as they had done earlier before he dropped to his knees for you. “Ah, ah sweetheart” he grabbed your wrists and moved your hand to his tight trousers where you palmed him through his clothes, “we gotta do this fast, i want all the others to see me kiss you at midnight.” He purred as he spun you around, tracing his cock between your folds before pushing you against the wall with a deep thrust. 

You didn’t like jealous stephen, but you loved the way he fucked, he was normally so gentle and kind making sure to touch and kiss you everyway possible before slowly drawing out orgasm after orgasm. But jealous Stephen, he fucked hard, he wasnt one for yelling or arguing, so he would take out his frustrations by pounding into you, he wanted to prove how fast he could make you cum how only he could make you feel that good. 

“You’re mine you know that right?” He purred as he sucked and nibbled at the pulse point on your neck leaving a purple mark for all to see. His cock had the perfect curve making it rub right against your g-spot in this position.

“Steph- please, i know im yours, fuck” you cried as his hand snaked around your neck bringing your head to his. He squeezed slightly, not enough to make it hard for you to breathe, but enough for your hand to clamp onto his wrist and walls to clench around his cock.

“Did you like the way Thor looked at you?” He moved his free hand to pull your dress down just enough to expose your tits to the world. “Did you want him looking at these?” He groaned with his cock twitching inside you. He grabbed on one of your tits, roughly massaging it in his hand and pinching on the nipple. “You know you’re so beautiful, I know you know every man smart enough wants you, admit it you like the attention.” He hissed, kissing your neck and thrusting even harder causing a pile of weights to tumble to the floor. “Tell me sweetheart, do you enjoy the attention?”

“Ye- shit, yes stephen. Fuck.” You moaned, your legs shaking at the overstimulation. He spun you around so that you could see yourselves in the mirrored walls, one hand gripped your chin and pointed you towards the mirror, while the other clung around your abdomen holding you in place as he kept himself inside you.

“Look at you.” He hummed in satisfaction, you looked at what you saw, your dress creased, tits popping out over the top of your dress, mascara running down your face, legs shaking, “look at us” you looked at him through the reflection, eyes darkened, hair stuck with sweat to his forehead, shirt falling down his shoulders and his trousers down only just enough to get his cock out. It was a sight to see, yet a sight you and stephen both loved to see, he loved showing you what he can do to you, and you loved that stupid dumb sarcastic smile of his. 

His arm that wrapped around your waist slid down to your clit as he continued pushing inside you, his fingers played with your clit using his precum that dripped from you as a lubricant, adding to the pleasure. You squeezed your eyes shut as you could feel that knot tightening, threatening to break as your insides fluttered. Stephen moaned at the sensation of your walls clenching around him.

“Open your eyes” he demanded “I want you to watch as I make you cum, i want you to realise you’re a slut, but you’re my slut.” He grunted as he felt himself drawing closer to his release, his fingers now frantically swiped up and down your clit and with his cock still hitting your g-spot, the sensation became unbearable and the knot snapped, this felt different your felt yourself dripping onto him and creating a small puddle on the hard gym floor. Your knees buckled and you melted to the floor where Stephen set you on all fours, still making sure you can see yourself in the mirror. He kept himself inside you as you slumped, trying to catch your breath

“You see that, that's how good I can make you feel. Tell me what you are.” he said, giving you a single hard thrust causing the sound of skin on skin to echo through the dark room.

“Yours.” you said through breathless moans, this landed a firm yet satisfying slap on you ass as he sped up his motions.

“My what?” he said “speak up” he said moaning, following his own ecstasy

“Your slut.” you cried out, holding yourself up as you could see in the mirror that he was completely lost in the chase for his own orgasm, so you angled yourself that you were pushing yourself onto him every time he entered you. “I’m your slut stephen, yours and yours alone, my pussy is made for you.” your words only encouraged him as he moaned with the satisfaction that the lesson he had been trying to teach you had finally sunk in. 

“That's right sweetheart, your mine” His trembling hands practically vibrated as he gripped the fat of your hips turning his knuckles white. You looked in the mirror, the smell of sex filling your nostrils, you looked at the sight behind you, his biceps straining through the sleeves of that white dress shirt you loved so much, his muscular chest shining with sweat. That was the man you fell in love with, every inch of him, even his salt and pepper temples he hated so much, you loved him.

“Say it again sweetheart.” he begged, he was so close.

“I’m your slut Stephen. I want you to fill me up, make your slut drip with your cum Stephen.” you called out with a victorious smile as he came, strengthening his grip on your waist. His body caved on top of yours as he littered your shoulder with kisses.

“Did you fuck out that atitude?” you asked with a giggle

“I don’t have an attitude.” he stated, sitting back on his knees and watching his seed drip from you. “I just like to make my opinion clear.” he smiled when you jolted as he pushed his cum back into your sensitive hole.

“I think you did.” you got up and put your underwear back on, which had been left at the door, the face he pulled when he realised you were just going to keep his seed inside you almost wanted to make you do it all again, but you did have a deadline to meet. You watched as he buttoned up his shirt and tucked himself back in place. “You know I love you and only you right?” 

“Of Course i do.” he walked over and kissed your forehead “i just wished other people understood that.” he clicked his fingers and your makeup and hair neatened themselves up like nothing had happened and linked his arm into yours.

“It was just a compliment Stephen, Thor didn’t mean anything by it.” you laughed to yourself as the hum of the party grew near

“You don’t know that for sure.” Stephen joked back as he grabbed two glasses of champagne and handed one to you.

“I know you’re jealous.” you looked at him and he rolled his eyes

“So what if I was?” he smiled “Sometimes i think you prefer it.”

“So what if I did?” your brow quirked, he opened his mouth to say something when you were interrupted by the rest of the guests beginning to count down and stephen lead you to the balcony where the others where

“3… 2… 1… Happy new year!” Stephen pulled you towards him and locked his lips with yours with a passionate kiss, you had to grip your glass so that you didn’t drop it on impact, he pulled you closer to him, allowing you to rest on his chest before finally parting.

“Happy new year sweetheart.” he smiled and gave you another peck

“Happy new year.” you smiled back

“Now correct me if i’m wrong but we need to go home, i haven’t seen you naked since last year.” he pulled your wrist

“That joke wasn’t funny last year and it still isn’t” you gave him a pity laugh

“Then why are you following me?”

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A/N: I have to say i might have gotten a little carried away with some of the language there, but im not appologising, this was based of a dream i had a few weeks back and i thought i'd turn it into a lil end of year gift for you all because in january i will have bneen posting for two years which is crazy to me because this year we have grown from around 50 followrrs to 250! which is even more crazy so, hope to get back into the swing of things next and hope you all have a great new year love ypu all sm! <3

[just-a-strange-boy]

a helping hand

part one

part two here

masterlist

Unable to use his hands after the accident, Stephen is in desperate need for some help. And who are you to refuse?

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader (GN)

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), questionable sexual proposal, handjob, edging, orgasm control

A/N: IT'S TIME! buckle up bc this is shameless... and tbh who wouldn't love to help our poor Stephen in need

"Of course I'll help out", you had said, thinking that you could spare some time, to sporadically take care of Christine's friend, determined to offer a hand whenever you could.

It was a clear arrangement – whenever she couldn't be around to help, you'd be the one to step in for the time being. Keep an eye on him, help him around the house, and make sure he won't do anything stupid that might hurt himself.

And you had just been fine with that. It wasn't an issue for you to pop by once in a while. You had flexible work hours and being the reliable person that you were, Christine knew you'd definitely jump in when needed.

What you hadn't expected was kind of getting stuck with helping, something you had most definitely not signed up for, to the point where you found yourself regularly on duty during your free time. Not that you didn't like to help out – there were worse things you could have imagined and there must have been a good subconscious reason why you kept agreeing to it.

You just hadn't planned to get so wrapped up in it.

Instead of simply sparing a couple of hours for Christine's friend because you could and thought helping him out was a good deed, you had ended up agreeing to an entire week on duty at his apartment, because someone had the audacity to leave for a medical congress, letting the task of caring for him fall into your hands and not missing the opportunity to instate you as a personal watchdog.

"Yeah, don't worry about it", you had said, though her request initially confused you.

Why was she asking you to stay around his apartment for an entire week? Not even Christine stayed around him for that long, knowing fairly well how insufferable his behavior was sometimes, glad she had the distraction of leaving for work and getting out of the house once in a while.

Maybe you wouldn't have had to agree to staying at his apartment all week. A couple of hours would have sufficed and you couldn't even quite explain to yourself why you still put yourself up to the challenge.

Perhaps it was because Christine always had the tendency to put on that kind of tone and expression on her face that expressed 'Please do it for me or else I won't be able to get rest'.

Being the worry wart that she was, she wouldn't have let it go until you caved – which was exactly what you had done, agreeing to her request anyways and accepting you would just have to pester the man in question with your presence.

He probably would have been happy to stay on his own for a bit, with no one around to constantly get on his nerves. You often felt like this was exactly what Christine and you were doing.

He would have been fine, probably, because it wasn't like he was incapable of taking care of himself. Yes, he was in a vulnerable position, his last surgery hadn't been that long ago and his hands were still in some state. There were things he couldn't do on his own, he needed to rely on help with certain things, but he wasn't a child needing to be coddled.

Christine's friend, Stephen, had gotten into a fucking wreck of a car crash, leaving him unable to use his hands, which had taken the most damage. You had heard plenty about Stephen Strange before all that happened, considering he had been good friends with Christine ever since she had gotten employed at the Metro General. But you had never had the pleasure of truly getting to know him until you began helping him out.

Plenty of people probably knew, as did you, that Stephen used to be a truly brilliant neurosurgeon, who would obviously not be able to continue to work in that field since his hands were pretty mangled. Which of course was really frustrating him to the point where he had refused to accept help from outside, all alone in his stupidly huge apartment, relying on not another person in the world but Christine, who was pretty much the only friend he had.

And now he had you too, since Christine (understandably so) also needed a break from Stephen sometimes and had pulled in you, her sibling, for help.

At first Stephen had been mad at her for even bringing someone else around for something as ridiculous as being cared for, claiming he didn't need to be pitied by another person, as pity was all he had for himself and his lost career.

But once his frustration was out of the way, he had warmed up quickly to you. It might have been because he had quickly learned how snarky you were, unashamed to speak your mind and comment on his occasional dickish behavior, volleying his little jabs and teasing him right back.

Or perhaps, it was simply because you weren't throwing him a pity party, while never once belittling him for the amount of help he actually needed.

By all means, Stephen should consider himself lucky that someone put up with his shit.

It was a given that Christine helped him out, considering they'd been pretty close friends for years and colleagues as well, she was aggressively caring for those she loved, and since Stephen didn't have a lot of other people to rely on, she fit the role perfectly.

You also quickly began to understand why she had wanted to split 'Stephen duty' with someone else though and being family, you were apparently the only reasonable choice.

She could be certain that he wasn't going to dismiss you or else he would have to endure the wrath of Christine – and she sure had a temper people knew better than to mess with.

So had he though.

He truly was the perfect match for butting heads with on the regular. Sometimes you were convinced he was just being a cocky and arrogant ass out of spite, to rile you up, to get on your nerves as a payback for getting on his, to have some fun because he was getting sick of his recovery at home.

Sometimes you acted out of spite too, placing things out of his reach, screwing on bottle caps extra tight, rearranging his cupboards, to the point where he was forced to ask for help (which he hated doing), but this, as much as most of your comments, was all meant in good humor.

You were sure that Stephen got it. He didn't seem to mind that you were head-strong and speaking your mind, didn't seem too bothered by the harsh things you said sometimes or the not-so-friendly tone you tended to use when it was necessary.

He even seemed to find it rather amusing sometimes, making for playful banter, and in a way you were almost certain that he liked having someone to argue with, even if only for his entertainment.

It offered him some sort of distraction he desperately needed, after things going dastardly wrong, after all this suffering due to his own stupid lapse of judgment, letting himself be distracted while driving and leaping down a cliff.

There was a lot of pent up frustration within Stephen, a lot of sadness, and desperation. Things he didn't necessarily show, but obviously felt anyways. So whenever you managed to put a smile on his face with your gentle, friendly teasing, you were relieved to see him in a different mood.

You liked Stephen quite a bit, no matter how much he was irking you on some days – and no matter what it was, you were always there to help. So maybe staying at the apartment all week wouldn't be as bad.

Surprisingly enough, Stephen hadn't resented the idea either, though of course dropping the occasional comment about not wanting to be under supervision 24/7.

While you were not one to coddle, going after your own work on your laptop and giving Stephen some space during the day, you were insistent on taking care of his basic well-being, as usual.

You did care for Stephen, and not just because of your sister. In some sort, you considered him your own friend as of now, wanting to make sure he was having a reasonably pleasant recovery, fully aware how much it must suck to go through all of this.

How far you were willing to go though? No one, not even you, would have been able to tell.

"You can either eat the food I make for you or go back to wasting your money on shitty takeout", you had set pretty clear the first evening, scolding him like he was an insolent child not wanting to eat his greens, staring him down at the kitchen table when he wouldn't bother touching the dinner you made, "But I sure as hell won't let you miss out a meal."

Whenever you had stepped in prior, you were trying to make sure Stephen ate properly and regularly, because you knew the man occasionally refused to take a meal altogether, which usually ended in an argument. When arguing with Christine, she tended to give in.

While you were really fed up with his stubbornness sometimes, you had always accomplished getting at least some food into Stephen and this time was no different.

A mere two days later, you had been quietly working on your laptop in the living room, waiting for Stephen to finish up his shower, when you heard a thud and a loud "Fuck", thinking that perhaps the shampoo bottle had slipped out of his hands. It didn't sound like a dangerous bang, so you weren't sure whether you needed to check on him or not, but just in case something bad had occurred...

You still got up, caught a peek into the bathroom and rolled your eyes hard when noticing that it hadn't been his shampoo, and dear Lord, Stephen had apparently managed to slip, the spray of the shower still raining down on him while he was sulking on the tiled floor.

"Did you hurt yourself?", you asked instead of 'Are you okay?', because you knew that Stephen felt far from okay the way things were. He was obviously ashamed this had happened, any other person would have been too, but accepting of the situation itself, accepting that he needed help.

He didn't dare to look at you then, but you could tell there was defeat written all over him and it probably wasn't helping his embarrassment that he was stark naked – which wasn't the first time you had seen him like this, as you had assisted a few showers before and gotten into plenty of awkward situations whereas you'd seen a bit more than asking for, but still... the two of you sure could have imagined a more comfortable setting.

Though you were rather unafraid to touch him, which was a good thing. How else could you have possibly helped?

You touched Stephen all the time. Helping him get dressed? Done that. Combed his hair? Yup. Shaved his stupidly handsome face? Also yes. Changed the dressings on his hands? A given. Assisting him in holding as much as a spoon without dropping it? Daily. Tucking him into bed at night? Okay, maybe not that one, but you sure would have, if he had asked you to.

"It's hard to fall down gracefully without using your hands to help yourself", Stephen sighed, but turned out to be unharmed by his tumble, though he would likely still get away with some bruises from the impact. Coming round the shower cubicle, you could see his knees seemed to have taken a lot of the brunt, not too mention he had cracked the skin of his elbow open, trying to not use his hands to ease the momentum.

"This is ridiculous. Slipping in the shower like some seventy year old sod”, he grumbled.

"I slipped in the shower once as a child and that's how I lost two of my teeth. It happens, Stephen", you tried to ease the mood, momentarily seizing the spray, so you could aid Stephen to get back up without getting too wet yourself. You casually looked him over – he seemed fine enough to continue. At least he hadn't banged his head or something. Still, you decided to stay nearby for the rest of his shower, making sure he was able to get out unharmed.

"What were you even doing? Were you feeling dizzy?", you inquired, helping him towel off his hair, quietly acknowledging how long it had gotten since meeting him for the first time and especially how the gray on his temples had begun to spread.

"No, just unaware of my surroundings for a moment, didn't think and... there I went", Stephen answered, but you weren't sure if that was the whole truth.

You accepted it though, continuing to help him dry off. Situations like these brought an uncomfortable awareness to your mind - he was putting so much trust into you, letting you help him like this, and you had never really managed to find a good answer as to why he was allowing you do all of those things for him.

All the signs of trust were obviously there. He was letting himself be vulnerable with you, being in situations that were so deeply intimate without refusal or much shame.

Stephen was allowing you to touch him too, aiding him with getting dressed, letting you check his newly won bruises today – and as usual, quietly accepted your care for his hands, his sore point, tender and heavily scarred, so that he mostly kept them hidden beneath a layer of bandages, ashamed of having anyone see them.

Sometimes, only sometimes, you even got the impression that whenever your hands were on him, it seemed to ease the tension out of his shoulders, never minding the undoubted awkwardness of the moment.

You weren't one to judge. Maybe he did want a bit of comfort after all and therefore didn't mind being taken care of sometimes, even though always pretending that he didn't need any help or tending to.

Everyone needed someone. Even him.

Stephen was a very lonely person. He would have never admitted to it, but all the fame and the glory from his neurosurgery days hadn't really ensured stable friendships and people being actually interested in him on a personal level. On the contrary, a lot of people had dropped Stephen rather quickly. But not Christine.

And thanks to her, you wouldn't anytime soon either.

You grew aware of Stephen's actual issue, when your work was interrupted for another time that same day. Finally coming to actually work on a commission that had been prompted weeks ago, setting the final touches to the project, tapping away on your graphic tablet, you took note of the noises coming from Stephen's bedroom.

Somehow you tried to make sense of it as moans of discomfort, anguish, perhaps he was having a nightmare, perhaps he was in pain, perhaps he was just frustrated he couldn't sleep, a reoccurring problem he had described to you before.

Whatever it was, it did appeal to your little helper syndrome and you at least felt like you needed to look after him, figure out if anything was going on that might require your help.

So you went to check on him, no regard for personal privacy, quietly opening the door to the bedroom, about to inquire what was going on and whether he was okay.

"Stephen? Is everything... oh..." Shit. Okay.

You had barely crossed the threshold to the room when you took note of what exactly was happening. Because the noises of frustration weren't rooted in trouble sleeping, but as it seemed in sexual desperation – and apparently the man had been trying to get off, unable to take care of his evident erection, pulling the blankets over himself immediately once noticing that you were standing in the doorway.

Awkward.

Standing like a deer in headlights, you wondered which one of you would have rather wanted a hole to open in the ground and swallow you whole to avoid the complete embarrassment.

"God, fuck, I'm so sorry", you apologized after overcoming the initial full-body freeze, not sure whether to leap out of the room, cover your eyes or just act bluntly about it. Logically it would have been best to not make a big deal out of it, because it wasn't, not really.

Just a private moment you had interrupted. Nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone had needs.

"I was... uh... I was worried something was the matter and...", you tried to explain then, going on stuttering and noticing that nothing you were about to say was going to save the awkwardness of the situation.

"Well, you know what's the matter now", Stephen sighed, barely illuminated by the soft lamp light from the bedside table, though still turning away from you in plain shame, continuing on with the sort of self-pity you had never experienced so strongly from Stephen before.

"I'm pathetic. Can't shower without help, can't live without help, I can't even jerk off without help, because of this stupid fucking car crash and these stupid fucking hands and I can't even blame anyone but myself for it."

It wasn't all too often that the man voiced his own hurt so intensely, clearly on edge, emotional about what had and, in that case, what hadn't happened.

Understanding of his evident frustration, but unsure what to do with him now, in this state, you contemplated. Things were already awkward enough and it didn't help you remained standing there while Stephen was wallowing in self-pity, and you weren't really sure why the idea of helping him out even crossed your mind in the first place.

Sure, helping around the apartment was no big deal, attending to Stephen's needs was okay, but taking care of this rather specific issue... you didn't want to push his boundaries too much after all.

And yet you were so bold as to ask, "So, are you in need of a helping hand?"

"Fuck off, now is not the time to make fun of me", Stephen groaned, probably ready to smother himself (or you) with one of the pillows, "Life already mocks me enough. I don't need to have you ridiculing me because of this."

"I'm not... I'm not mocking you", you assured him, finally moving, closing the door shut behind you as you went over to the bed, watching his cowered figure, "I'm just... I'm not pitying you. It's just...me... requesting like... a favor for a friend in need? I'm sure I could help you out some way? If you wanted me to, that is."

"Why would you even offer that?", Stephen asked, though appearing neither dismissive nor exceptionally shaken about what you were suggesting. A little in disbelief perhaps, but that wasn't surprising since you were clearly deciding to cross a boundary for the two of you here.

"Because life's been shit for you and I guess you could need some relief. Since you can't seem to get off on your own, I'm offering to help you with it", your answer seemed to make him consider and you planted yourself down on his bedside. You reached out and touched his shoulder, trying to find out how he would respond to you initiating touch.

"Maybe it will help you unwind and relax?"

Stephen turned to look at you. "We will never speak of this ever again", he hummed in agreement, "And not a word to anyone. Especially not Christine."

"Promise", you agreed – this was definitely not something you were meaning to boast about. You just wanted to help and the decision to do this for Stephen had been surprisingly easy to make.

A normalcy had kind of settled over the situation, which however didn't mean that you weren't feeling some type of way. You were a little jittery as you slid into bed next to Stephen, making sure not to cuddle up to him too much, because you weren't sure how he would feel about any unnecessary affections.

This was just about a quick hand job and that was it. It already must have taken a lot for Stephen to even accept the offer. Not to mention, a lot of desperation too. But he trusted you. This was a friendly gesture and nothing more. It didn't have to mean anything, let alone be a big thing between you, something that might never be mentioned ever again.

Gently pulling back the blanket, you probably held your breath as much as he did, reaching out, making sure to touch Stephen where his sleep shirt had ridden up at first, your hand finding its place on his stomach, letting him get accustomed to your touch, which wasn't entirely new to him – this time with a little different intention than usually, which made it all the more exciting.

The man drew out a shaky breath, agitated even, and his muscles were tensing up before he was even thinking of relaxing. Looking at him, you could see there was concentration on his brow, his gaze averted to the ceiling, neither daring to look at you nor at where your hand was resting.

"Okay?", you asked.

"Yeah", Stephen said, barely a whisper. His consent urged you to go on, your fingers brushing over his abdomen, following the trail of hair down his navel, fully aware that his pants were still bunched down somewhere around his knees, and you could have reached for him right away. But you didn't, sliding your hand past his arousal, stroking along his thighs instead, bracing yourself to make the next step and touch him more intimately.

But even your hand on him alone was seemingly enough to awaken all sorts of things within Stephen and he sucked in a sharp breath as your hand skirted his inner thighs. He was warm, his thighs firm under your touch, and you gently squeezed them in reassurance.

"You're a damn tease", he muttered.

You thought replying something witty, but you knew better and just bit your tongue this time, curiously watching his face, not meaning to stare at his genitals. It wasn't like Stephen didn't seem to like it. He had closed his eyes, seemed concentrated, small breaths were slipping past his lips, and he swallowed hard.

As you continued to carefully caress his thighs, you could most certainly feel him squirm, tensing again, but not because he was uncomfortable. He was aroused, you had no doubts, and his words just made it all the more evident he wanted you to go on.

“Please don't make me wait”, he requested, so quiet as if he was speaking a forbidden thought aloud.

You didn't, fingers trailing the path up his thighs, enjoying the little huff that escaped Stephen when you brushed past his balls, reaching for the half-hard member, responding to your touch with a twitch, stirring in interest. Wrapping your fingers around him, you grabbed the base of his cock in a tight hold.

"God, I feel like I'm about to burst already", Stephen groaned in anguish as his breathing almost turned labored instantly, pressing his head back into the pillows, and the notion alone encouraged you to be a little more bold in your advances.

"Well, we can't have that, can we? Spilling your cum all over my hand and I haven't even really gotten to touch you?", you chuckled, unsure how Stephen would react to your words, but unable to hold them back. He didn't seem to mind the dirty talk though – if anything, it seemed to rouse him even more. You could feel the warm flesh throbbing in your hand, practically begging to be touched, already craving some release.

But maybe you didn't have to make this as quick as you had planned for initially, only allowing him slow movements of your hand, gently tugging on his cock, drawing out soft moans. And dear lord, he sounded wonderful. It was entirely entrancing and you found it hard to choose where you'd rather look – at the subtle emotions passing Stephen's face during your ministrations or his erect cock. With utmost interest, your eyes flicked back and forth.

You made sure to touch all of him, from the base all the way to his tip, thumb gliding over the glistening cockhead, a satisfied smirk coming to your lips when you noticed how much precum he was already leaking, circling his glans, before stroking down again, tracing the veins on his length, making sure to give special attention to those spots that made him buck his hips when touched.

No wonder Stephen was responsive and desperate for it. You had no idea how long it might have been since someone had touched him, intimately most of all. Stephen didn't have anyone, wasn't partnered and you doubted that your sister was that sort of friend. His own hands wouldn't do, which had caused you two to end up like this in the first place. Touch-starved like this, there was no doubt Stephen deserved someone to take proper care of him – and you had made it your mission to do so.

Unfortunately for him, you weren't all that nice to just give everything to him right away.

So as the man tried to thrust into your hand, wanting to chase his own pleasure, needing more, you eased the grip of your fingers around him, almost letting go off him, stopping any sort of movement altogether, earning a huff from Stephen.

"Oh, fuck off", he groaned with evident frustration, fully aware you were doing this on purpose.

"Do you want me to stop then?", you asked, with a grin Stephen didn't see as he still kept his eyes closed, and loved the power you held over him - you could have just taken your hand away, walked off and left the man even more desperate than before. Of course, you would have never been so cruel to actually do this, now that you had already gotten started, but the thought was amusing.

"No", another groan followed, "I want you to go on, you asshole." Then a pause. "Please", he added then.

"As you wish", so you tightened the grip around him again, jerking him at a slower pace, gently at first, before beginning to move your hand a little quicker, knowing very well that the change of rhythm, the change of pressure applied, was going to keep Stephen more on edge than anything else. You knew how, in some ways, it was more than cruel to tease him like this, in his position no less, but if Stephen was seeking release that badly, you might at least make the best of it and draw it out as much as he could.

You'd make sure to give him an exceptional orgasm.

So whenever you felt Stephen tense up, his breath quickening, his moans increasing, his words more pleading, brows furrowing, biting down on his bottom lip, when he might have been just on that threshold to achieving an orgasm, you stilled any movements again, sometimes taking your hand off him entirely, sometimes only abandoning his cock for a moment, though always long enough for a looming orgasm to be ruined entirely. It was a torturous game to play, trying to bring Stephen close to the edge each time, only to deny him pleasure the last second.

It didn't take you much to drive him to madness with fleeting touches, promising release, not quite allowing him to get it, and then doing it all over again.

The sight of Stephen was wonderful. He was squirming, erratically breathing, his sweet moans turning to frustrated groans, his words reaching from "God, please, just let me come" to "I hate you for doing this to me", but still welcoming your hand whenever it returned to touch him, each time a little more.

You didn't even want to imagine how much his balls must have been aching after minutes of being edged and denied, but of course you decided to take pity on Stephen eventually. You weren't that heartless after all and when you finally gave into him chasing his pleasure, allowing him that sweet relief, guiding towards the long awaited orgasm, it was absolutely worth it.

For the last few strokes, you even let him thrust up into your hand, gently guiding him through his orgasm as it struck. A long and shaky moan escaped his throat, a sound of relief coming from deep within, his body completely tensing up, before that concentration finally left his brow and was replaced by a look of ease, surrendering to the sensations altogether.

You could feel his cock pulsing, thick cum spilling all over your fingers and it didn't even seem to end there. He really was bursting, arching his back off the mattress as he was coming loads and loads, his entire body was trembling, sweetly groaning.

You doubted anything could have ruined the moment for Stephen now and thoroughly enjoyed how he was seeming to enjoy himself, jerking him through the remaining throes of passion, until his body just slumped.

Noticing his orgasm had passed, you eventually took your hand off his cock, gently placing it on his lower stomach instead, both sticky with cum anyways. You smiled to yourself, following the movement of his chest, still breathing heavily, and decided to wait for him to calm down again, allowing him another moment of comfort, allowing him to have another presence near, someone warm and caring.

He deserved it.

Though it wasn't like you weren't doing this at least a little bit for your own gain. You had enjoyed doing this for Stephen, had drank in the sight of him, this intimate moment forever etched inside your brain. And now that you thought about it, you wondered about whether you could still only consider this a friendly favor or if perhaps you wanted things to change between you.

You had never really questioned the kind of feelings you harvested for the man. Or could see yourself potentially having for him, if there was any sort of potential at all. Of course, you had come to consider him a good friend – but good friends didn't just randomly pay each other sexual favors, did they? Not like you were counting on this being more than a one time thing... well, unless he wanted to perhaps.

"Jesus... that was kind of... mind blowing. I mean I haven't come for weeks, but I don't think I have ever come that hard in general...ever", Stephen commended you, interrupting your train of thought, still a little out of breath, "Fucking hell, where did you even learn to give handjobs like that?"

"Years of studying", you joked, deciding to definitely not give him an honest answer to his question, looking at him to find him curiously eyeing you in return, "Sorry for being a tease. Can't say that I didn't enjoy it though."

"So did I. As you can probably tell", Stephen sighed, seeming a lot more content, showing you one of his rare smiles, "Though I'm probably going to need to wash up again now. I'm sticky and sweaty."

"It was my pleasure. Make sure to tell me if you ever need assistance again", you patted his stomach and leaned in to give him a quick peck on the cheek, before withdrawing altogether, trying not to smear any of the sticky fluid on your hand anywhere else it wasn't supposed to be, deciding to flee the room quite fast after realization hit that you had just jerked your sister's friend off. You had made your own friend, a man relying on your help day by day, come the hardest in his life ever.

Though perhaps it didn't matter, for this was only going to be a one time thing and you'd accomplished to help him out, only because he needed it. The moment was gone now and it had been good while it had lasted. That was the most important thing.

Stephen's voice stopped you in the doorway when he spoke your name. "Thank you. Not just for this. For everything you do for me.”

You turned your head back for a moment, gave him a reassuring smile, acknowledging his gratitude, and left anyways.

[ironstrange1991]

His Medicine

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Stephen has a nightmare and when he wakes up he seeks comfort in your arms.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: SMUT: Possessive sex, oral sex with male and female receiving, deep throat, fingering, unprotected p n v sex, hair pulling, creampie, cum eating, slight male domination. A bit of angst if you dig too much.

A/N: I was missing writing the good and classic smut with og Stephen so here it is. Hope you guys enjoy it and have a good reading. - Any typos or grammar mistakes you see in this, pretend you didn't ;)

You woke up to the movement of Stephen tossing and turning next to you in bed. Your first impression was that he was irritated at not being able to sleep, after all you knew that Stephen had been struggling with insomnia since the accident. Before, he used to sleep really well, according to him.

You closed your eyes again to try to go back to sleep, but he continued tossing and turning in bed so, sighing, you turned on the lamp to finally look at him. It was then that you noticed that he was sleeping, but his body was sweaty under the blanket and he seemed to be struggling against something invisible. You had never seen Stephen have nightmares like that and for a second you wondered if you should wake him up, but before you could make the decision he sat up abruptly on the bed gasping for air and running his hands over his face.

"Stephen..." You sat next to him, touching his shoulder lightly so as not to scare him.

He held your hand tightly and sighed heavily.

"Are you okay? You were having a nightmare."

He nodded. "I haven't had one of these in a long time." He confessed, his voice shaking a bit. "Christ, it was like being there again."

You put your arm around his shoulders and to your surprise, he laid his head on your shoulder seeking comfort. Stephen was extremely affectionate with you, but it was always the other way around, it was always you looking for comfort in him. The change was welcome, but not in that circumstance.

 Automatically your hand searched for his hair and you started stroking it.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

His arms wrapped around your waist and he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

"The accident. It's always the accident. I thought I had left it behind me, but it still haunts me in my sleep."

You held him in your arms as if that way you could protect him from all the evil that had affected him or that could still affect him. You just wanted to keep him safe there within your reach.

"It was an extremely traumatic experience and you dealt with it alone. Maybe you should consider seeking help..."

He shook his head "I don't need therapy. I already have everything I need."

He said lifting his head and searching for your lips.

You kissed him softly, but disagreed, "I can't save you from the ghosts of your past, Stephen, as much as I want to help you, I don't know how."

He sighed, running a hand over his face again. "They're just dreams. What harm can they do?"

You shook your head. You had been together for almost two years and you were still surprised by how headstrong and stubborn Stephen was. "Disrupting what little decent sleep you have is already something to worry about." You pointed out. "You've barely been sleeping lately, always worried about everyone except yourself. Someone needs to take care of you while you're taking care of everyone else, don't you think? Being ill you don't help anyone, sweetheart."

Stephen sighed and you took that as a sign that he agreed with you, at least a little.

"You're stealing my pet name." He said, changing the subject in a not-so-subtle way. "I gave it to you."

You smirked running your fingers through his hair absentmindedly. "You gave it to me and I can use it however I want. It's extremely cute if you ask me and it suits you. Especially when you're clinging to me like a koala because you had a bad dream."

Stephen hummed knowing full well that you were teasing him but he didn't give in, he continued cuddling with you, it was as if he couldn't bear the thought of moving away from you for even a second.

"Promise me you'll see a doctor." You pressed and he groaned knowing full well that you wouldn't give up on the subject so easily. "Stephen..."

"I know every neurologist and psychiatrist in New York, I can't see any of them."

"Well then go to Europe, use your amazing ability to open portals for something that benefits you for a change."

He pulled away enough to look at you. "I love you." He muttered.

You cupped his cheek "I love you too, Stephen, but sometimes you're as stubborn as a mule and it makes me really angry."

He chuckled "I'm sorry."

He caressed your face and placed his trembling hand on the back of your neck and pulled you in for a hard kiss. The intensity surprised you, but you let yourself be pushed gently against the mattress as Stephen positioned himself on top of you, his knees making room for him to settle between your legs.

When your head hit the pillow, he took your lips again while with one hand he held yours on the side of your head and the other he slowly moved between your legs. You moaned involuntarily when his fingers touched over your pajama shorts, tracing circles there, teasing you as he grinded himself into your thigh.

"You're the only one who can give me what I need to make me feel better and you know it." He confessed in your ear and then licked your ear making your body shiver. "I love you so much, sweetheart, you are my medicine."

You couldn't help but giggle, but then a loud moan escaped your lips as his fingers pulled your shorts to the side and began to play with your folds.

"We can't fix everything with sex." You tried to rationalize with him, but you could feel reason quickly giving way to desire in your brain.

"No, but I'm not talking about sex, I'm talking about the way you make me feel when I'm in your arms, when you stroke my hair or massage my hands. I'm talking about love. Your love is my medicine and it’s all I need."

You felt your heart flutter in your chest hearing those words, but at the same time your hips started to move against his hand as if it had a life of its own. It was very difficult for you to separate sex from love with Stephen. Before him the line was thick and visible, but with him it simply disappeared. The two things seemed to complement each other so well.

"Stephen...make love to me." You asked, giving in to your desire and abandoning reason once and for all.

He bit your lower lip lightly before taking your mouth in another hungry kiss. "I thought sex didn't solve things..." He teased you with a smirk while grinding his erection into you.

"You just said it's not about sex..." You tried to say, but shook your head, changing your mind when he stuck two fingers inside you. "Fuck...need you."

Stephen buried his face in your neck, stifling his giggle, but his fingers curled inside you with precision to reach your g spot and he moved them quickly. You held his face in your hands making him look at you. "I love you... oh yes... I love your fingers even more."

He kissed you again giggling and knelt between your legs.

"I think there's something you love even more." He teased, "But first..." He snapped his fingers and your pajamas disappeared with a glimpse of orange light. "Open wide for me..." He licked his lips dramatically which made you laugh softly. You loved that about Stephen. You loved how he could make you feel so good and at ease with him. Even though you had been together for so long, it never stopped enchanting you.

"Or maybe a combination of the two." He announced before diving between your legs and entering you again with his fingers. Your hand grabbed the pillow and the other grabbed his hair and you allowed yourself a loud moan, not giving a damn if Wong would hear you or not. In fact, it had been a long time since you stopped caring about Wong's presence at the Sanctum and perhaps because of that he almost never spent the night there.

Stephen hummed contently, delighting between your folds, taking turns licking them with the tip of his tongue and sucking your clit while his fingers moved nimbly to stimulate your g spot.

He was so good, perfect, surgical when it came to giving you pleasure and as much as you knew that that night he was using sex to escape the current problem, you couldn't resist, you always fell into the same trap.

But it wasn't just to distract you from the subject that he used sex, but also to distract himself from all the problems and fears that afflicted him. He wasn't kidding when he said you were his medicine, and you might even feel flattered by that if it weren't worrying. The man never allowed himself to feel. Always trying to be in control of everything, especially his own emotions and there was nothing Stephen controlled better than sex. He had simply mastered that art so well that he was able to make you forget your own name with just a touch of his fingers.

"Steph... gonna make me cum..." You murmured, giving in to the delicious pleasure between your legs, but keeping your eyes wide open to look at him and see him eating you. There was nothing more mesmerizing than Stephen going down on you because you knew he took pleasure in it and he was so lost in his need for you that he started rubbing his erection on the mattress while eating you and that vision, Stephen so lost in his pleasure , that's what made you finally get there, moaning his name loudly and creaming his fingers.

He emerged from between your legs with a proud smile on his lips and you ran your hands over his face to clean him of all his fluids and pulled him to your lips, delighting in the taste of your cunt in his tongue.

"You're not going to be able to change my mind about you needing to see a therapist. Not even after such a wonderful oral." You warned and he smirked.

"I guess we can talk about this later." He said, running his lips on your neck and placing little kisses on your skin and finally nibbling on your earlobe.

"Later when?" You rasped.

He grabbed one of your hands and brought it to his cock, slipping it inside his pants. "After you take care of this."

You grabbed his cock and started pumping him up and down. "But this is a full time occupation. It really seems like you're always like this." You said pulling him to your lips.

He groaned when you tightened your grip on his cock. “Is this a complaint?”

"Never." You said gently pushing him to the side and straddling him. He let himself be moved easily and you ran your lips down his neck, making a point of leaving a clearly visible hickey just below his chin, your nails went down his chest, scratching him lightly as you took one nipple and then the other in your mouth, circling your tongue on the sensitive skin and feeling him pulse beneath you.

"Sweetheart... please..." His voice was so beautiful when he begged.

"Please what?" You teased, running your lips down his belly, giving small bites.

"Fuck me... with your mouth. Please."

You lifted your head to look at him and couldn't keep the cocky smile from your lips. Your hands grabbed both sides of his sweatpants.

"Since you're asking so nicely."

He lifted his hips, letting you take off his pants and you were treated to his beautiful, hard cock. It's no exaggeration to say that your mouth always watered at that sight.

You held him upright by the base and licked him from the base to the tip, finishing with a suck on the tip that made him see stars. His legs shook and he moaned outrageously loud.

"Oh yes... please take it in your mouth sweetheart, give this delicious mouth to me."

You smiled mischievously, taking your hands up to your hair to tie it into a bun tied with your own hair and Stephen grabbed his cock by the base, gesturing with the other hand for you to take it. You let him lead, opening your mouth for him to put his dick in and letting him thrust all the way in.

"Fuck yeah!" He praised taking his cock completely out of your mouth, saliva dripping down your chin. You took the opportunity to swallow some. "Open for me really big" He ordered and you did as he asked letting him go deep again and gagging around him which made him moan even louder. He loved that.

Stephen loved seeing you gagging on him because it inflated his ego, he knew very well that he had a huge cock, but he liked seeing you suffering to take it all in, it made him hard as a rock and when you cried, when he saw tears streaming down your face he loved it even more. You were sure he could cum from just that.

"Gonna let you take me however you want now." He said taking his hand away which was quickly replaced by yours. "Just keep making me feel good" He asked and you took the lead pumping his cock and sucking him in perfect synchronization. The wet noise his dick made moving in and out of your mouth filled the room.

"So good... fuck sweetheart it feels so good."

He grabbed your hair and without holding back he began to push your head so that you took him entirely. Stephen never gave up control completely and he was obsessed with deep throat, he was only satisfied when your nose was against his pelvis and his cock was deep you’re your throat.

"Taking me so good. Always taking me so good, sweet..." He moaned loudly and his cock pulsed hard in your throat making you gag.

"Wanna cum in your throat, please let me cum in your throat..."

You hummed positively and relaxing your head and throat, breathing through your nose and letting go of the control completely, letting him use your head to get off.

He thrusted up a few more times and then held you tight against him and began to cum down your throat. "Oh yeah... fucking take it, love. Oh yeah... fuck... take all of it... take all of my cum."

When he finally let go of your head and you took him out of your mouth you were gasping for air. Your face was soaked with tears and your chin was dripping with saliva, some still clinging to a thread connecting your mouth and the head of his cock that was soft, but not completely flaccid.

"You always take me so good. Always accepting what I give you. Such a sweetheart indeed." He patronized.

You wiped the spit off your chin with your hand and moved to straddle him.

"Yeah? Now you're gonna fuck me with the same harshness that you fucked my mouth and you are going to make me cum again. Hard."

"And isn't it always hard when I make you cum? Always writhing and moaning my name, thanking the gods that is me fucking you so good." He teased grabbing his cock and giving a couple of jerks before entering you.

You moaned loudly, letting yourself sink into his cock and started riding him fast and hard, placing your hands on his chest for balance.

"Yes... oh yes I love to have you inside me. Feels so big... you always fuck me so good... such a good lover, Steph..."

You leaned your head back and placed both hands on his thighs, moving your legs forward and allowing the new position to give him a better view of where you joined.

Stephen placed a hand on your clit, circling it and stimulating it deliciously, increasing your pleasure, which made you moan so loud that anyone in that house could hear it.

"Just like that, sweetheart. Give it to me."

You kept moving fast on top of him, letting your body move instinctively in search of your release, but Stephen had other plans. Quickly, he moved you under him, getting lost between your legs again, sucking your clit and licking your dripping folds before patting your leg and ordering, "Turn around and lift that ass for me."

You did as he ordered, but not satisfied he slapped your ass cheek and ordered again. "Higher." He gave another slap and when he was satisfied with your position he entered you again, fucking you with surprising ferocity. That was one of the things you loved about Stephen, you never knew what sex with him would be like. Sometimes it was soft and other times it was like that. Hard and delicious.

Stephen was so big that his body covered your entire body, his weight made it impossible for you to move and when he fucked you like that you were completely at his mercy and that was fucking hot. You loved being dominated by him, you loved knowing that your man had complete control over you.

"Fuck yes Stephen... take me, use me, I'm yours. Fuck me harder. Show me I am yours and no one else's. Prove to me that you own me… my owner."

Stephen groaned at your words, grabbing the headboard and increasing the strength of his thrusts as the bed creaked beneath you.

"Gonna make me cum, Stephen, uh? Want me to cum? Tell me, wanna hear you saying it."

He grabbed your hair with one hand and started using it as a rein, pulling you against his thrusts, which became increasingly irregular and strong.

"Gonna cum for me, sweetheart. Wanna see you fucking cum in my cock, come on, give it to me, cream my dick."

You moaned loudly feeling the knot threatening to break in your stomach.

"Yes Stephen...please."

"Come on, love. Let go for me. Cum... Cum on my dick."

And so you did. You came hard feeling your whole body shaking with the force of your release and your legs gave way making you fall face first into the pillows.

"There you go. Such a sweetheart doing as you're told." He groaned the words as he continued thrusting.

"Now you're going to let me use this pussy to get off. What do you think, uh? Letting me using you like this. I know you love it."

You groaned positively, but your groans were muffled by the pillow.

"What is that, uh? Can't hear you, love."

"Use me..." You tried to say, but your voice came out hoarse, but it was enough for him to hear.

He kept thrusting hard into you searching his own high.

"Want me to use you, sweetheart? That's what I am doing and you feel so good. So fucking amazing. Pussy feels so warm and wet and delicious, gonna cum so fucking hard inside you, fill you with my milk, it’s that what do you want?"

"Y-yes, please." You begged and he moaned loudly, placing his hand on the headboard to increase the strength of his thrusts.

"Yeah? Want my milk inside this warm little hole? Then tell me, ask for it."

"Please Stephen, cum in me, cum inside me, want your cum so badly, please."

Stephen groaned loudly and gave two more hard thrusts and then began to cum. He kept thrusting, pushing his cum inside you until he was finished.

"Oh fuck, fucking take it." He groaned in your ear and finally rolled onto his side, his breathing ragged and rapid.

You buried your face in the pillow trying to compose yourself, but a fit of laughter invaded you.

Stephen wrapped his arms around you and began tickling your hips giggling with you.

"Okay, okay, please... I can't..." You begged, gasping for air from laughing so hard. He let go of you and you rolled to the side finally looking at him. The worry, the fear that you saw on his face had disappeared and in its place was the most beautiful smile in the world.

"You’re feeling better." It wasn't a question, but an observation.

He nodded confidently "I told you. You're like medicine to me."

You smiled, dragging yourself closer to him and he wrapped you in his arms letting you lay your head on his shoulder. "You get different sometimes when you're horny."

He let out a small laugh.

"I'm serious. You get a bit rough. I like it."

He cupped your cheek making you look at him and kissed you softly. "It must be because I love you so much. You do these things to me."

You smiled feeling your heart flutter in your chest again. "I love you too, more than anything."

"More than chocolate?" He joked and you grimaced.

"Not that much."

He giggled, squeezing you against his chest and the two of you were silent for a minute. It was you who broke the silence first, determined to return to the subject he was avoiding.

"Promise me you'll seek professional help to deal with these nightmares." You insisted.

He sighed heavily. "You know what they say about therapy. You start it for a reason and the next thing you know you're digging up all the dead bodies on your floor."

You knew exactly what he was talking about and what he was afraid of, part of you always knew it was much more than the accident. You just didn't know how to broach the subject with him. It was something so deeply hidden within him that he didn't even want to talk about it, but you knew this was the moment.

"I know you're afraid to deal with your feelings about your sister, Stephen, but these nightmares are your unconscious telling you that you need closure."

"I'm not afraid..." He said, staring at the ceiling. "I just don't think it's beneficial to go over things that happened so many years ago. I'd rather forget."

You rolled your lips. "But you can't forget, that's the truth. No matter how hard you try, it's all in there and you're just trying to distract yourself from the pain. It was like that with medicine and then at Kamar Taj and now with me..."

"Is not the same thing." He interrupted you. "Medicine was a way to prove to myself that I could be more. Kamar Taj was my salvation when I had lost all hope. You... you are the love of my life. I'm not with you to get distract from my problems, I'm with you because you gave meaning to my life, you made me happy."

You nodded, stroking his chest absently.

"But I'll do it if it's what you want."

"It's not for me that you have to do this, but for you, Stephen. You need to think about yourself sometimes."

He chuckled dryly "I've been called a narcissist, you know? Arrogant. Prepotent. It was when I stopped thinking about myself that I became a better person, they say."

"Fuck them. This is not true." You cupped his face making him look at you. "You've always been a good person, you've always done good even when you did it for selfish reasons. Now I'm asking you to dedicate some of your time to yourself. Please."

He smiles reassuringly at you. "Okay. Consider it done."

You allowed yourself a relieved sigh.

"I liked the 'you're my owner' thing. A little possessive, but I liked it." He teased, changing the subject again and again without any subtlety.

You smirked "We talk and do unimaginable things when we're horny."

"Yeah? I like making you horny, I love seeing how you transform at my touch. It's fascinating to me and I never get tired of it."

You pulled him to your lips and kissed him lingerly, pulling a hum from his throat.

"No man has ever made me feel the way you do. I love everything about you, Stephen."

He rested his forehead on yours and smiled proudly.

"And I love everything about you, my sweet… sweet... sweet... sweetheart." He said separating the words with kisses.

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing ;)

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[vickiee-mcmuffin]

Just a little lie

Word count: 3k

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Stark female reader

Trope: Explicit smut, Daddy kink, Age gap (18+ warning, minors dni)

Summary: You join the mystic arts after your dad, Tony Stark, suggested the idea. You hated the idea until you met your teacher, Doctor Stephen Strange.

A/N: Hope you like this fic…

You were in your early twenties and had never really been one for hobbies. Most of the time, you felt pretty content just laying on your bed, your phone in hand as you scrolled through app after app. But your dad seemed to be obsessed with pestering you about doing something. Anything. To go outside, to maybe help him and the other Avengers, or to just try anything different. Truthfully, you never really paid all that much attention to him.

And it was a day just like any other when he entered your room, sighing when he got sight of you. “You’re not gonna stay in here all day, are you?”

“Hm?” you let out, your eyes stuck on your phone.

“I think you spend far too much time in your room.”

You shrugged. “It’s a nice room.”

“Y/N…” He placed a hand on your phone before pulling it from your grasp. “I have an idea. You might not like the sound of it, but I really think it’ll be good for you.”

Frowning at him, you slowly sat up. “What is it?”

“I want you to try something different.”

“How different?”

“Does the mystic arts interest you at all?”

“The mystic arts?”

“I may know a very good teacher. It took a bit of convincing, but he told me he’s willing to teach you if you want to try it out. Don’t you think it’ll be fun? You’ll learn a lot?”

Slowly, you laid back down on your bed. “I don’t know. What kind of whack job teaches mystic arts?”

Your father let out a little chuckle. “He’s a very reliable whack job. What do you say?”

You snatched your phone out of his hands and gave him a little shrug. “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it, I guess.”

You could hear your father sighing at that, but your eyes were quickly back on your phone, your focus on the video you had been watching before he came into the room. Mystic arts sounded more strange than fun…

******

There was a knock on your door, and you looked up from your phone with a raised eyebrow. Your father stood there with a sly look on his face.

“Yes?” you asked.

“There’s someone here who wants to meet you.”

“And who might that be?”

“Your new mystic arts teacher.”

Your eyes rolled. “I don’t feel like meeting him.”

“Please,” your father pleaded. “Just do this for me. And if you aren’t interested, I’ll leave you alone. Okay?”

You blew out a breath of air and lifted yourself off the bed. “Alright, okay. Since you asked so nicely.”

“I’ll wait for you in the meeting room.”

You moved extra slowly, already fully convinced that your father was wasting your time. But when you walked into the meeting room, you almost stopped right there in your tracks when you got sight of one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. Tall and dark-haired with grey streaks tucked behind his ears, the man tilted his head as he looked at you. You couldn’t help it when you smiled at him, noticing how he sent you a small smile right back.

“Y/N, this is Dr. Stephen Strange,” your father said, gesturing between the two of you. “Strange, as you know by now, this is my daughter, Y/N.”

“Yes, Stark, I know who she is, because you wouldn’t stop pestering me to teach her,” Stephen said, rolling his eyes before he focused all his attention back on you.

All of a sudden, the mystic arts sounded a lot more interesting.

******

It had been a whole month since Stephen Strange had become your teacher. And he was a good teacher indeed. Thorough and clear and communicative, but there was something else he was much, much better at. Something you couldn’t tell anyone about, especially your dad.

There just had been something about Stephen that you couldn’t get enough of. His voice, his touch. The way he looked at you. It all drew you into him, and before you knew it, the two of you had more than just a student-teacher relationship. It became something better and wilder and dirtier and forbidden. You fell for him hard and fast, and you had spent the past few weeks lying to your dad when you left the Avengers compound. You’d tell him you were going to hang out with your friends when really, you were darting over to the New York Sanctum to meet up with Stephen so he could take you and make you all his.

It was what you were doing at that very moment. Looking over your shoulder, you gave your dad a little wave. “I’m going to meet up with the girls now!” you called out. “I don’t wanna be late for dinner!”

“Have fun, sweetheart!” he replied.

After quickly opening up a portal right to that familiar building in New York, you stepped inside, instantly spotting Stephen.

“Hey,” he said lowly. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” you said with a little giggle.

He stepped over to you and quickly closed the gap between the two of you. “I need you so bad.”

Still giggling, you tilted your head at him. “You only saw me a few hours ago…”

“That’s too long.” Stephen laughed, pressing his lips to yours. He gave you a long, deep, wild kiss, his big hands on your hips. “What lie did you tell your dad today?”

“I said I was going out to dinner with friends.” You pressed your lips to his again, loving the feeling of Stephen gripping your hips tighter. He pulled you up against him and it was like he couldn’t get enough of you, like he was just as eager to have you as you were to have him. Your legs wrapped around him as he carried you, and you knew exactly where he was taking you. It was a place you had been to many times before, and that was his bedroom.

Stephen threw you to the bed before covering your body with his own. He was all big and broad as he pressed his lips to yours, his tongue darting right into your mouth as he grabbed your hands and pinned them to the bed. You could feel him getting hard from behind his pants as he ground into you, your hunger for him growing so fast. Your lips and tongues were clashing together as you pushed your hands through Stephen’s locks, tugging at them as you felt yourself getting wetter and wetter. God, you wanted him. And from the feeling of his hard cock pushing up against you, you were pretty sure he was craving you just as bad.

“Please, Stephen,” you said when you pulled away from his lips, making sure your voice was light and teasing. “Please, I want it.”

He let out a deep grunt above you. “You want it, sweetheart?”

“Mhm.”

“What do you want, huh? What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to take me,” you whispered. “I want you to take me and make me all yours. I just wanna be yours. Please. Please, Daddy.”

And you knew that nickname was gonna make him lose it. A second later, his hands were on your top, pushing it over your head before he tossed it to the side. Eager, big hands yanked your jeans down, leaving you in nothing but your panties.

“God, you’re so gorgeous,” Stephen said, tilting his head at you. “Such a gorgeous fucking girl.”

“Please…”

“I’ve got you.” His hands found your panties before he gave them a harsh tug down your legs, and then you were completely exposed for him, every part of you utterly on show. “You’re so fucking beautiful. Mm, what would your dad say if he saw me staring at you like this? He’d be so mad if he knew I was looking at his daughter all naked for me.”

“Yeah, he’d be pretty angry,” you said with a little chuckle.

He ran a thumb against your slit, moving it up towards your clit where he gave the little bud a rub.

“Very angry,” he continued. “Especially since I’m your teacher. Your much, much older teacher. Ooh, that feels good, doesn’t it?”

He was working your clit just right, rubbing and rubbing as his eyes scanned all over your body. You wanted to feel him, wanted him to fill you up already, but you let him circle his thumb against your clit, your toes curling as your hands yanked and pulled at his sheets.

“So close,” you whispered. “So close, Daddy.”

“Cum for me. Cum for me right now.”

You were pretty sure only Stephen could make you cum on demand. You writhed underneath him as your orgasm took over, pure pleasure and heat taking over your body as Stephen undressed before you. Soon, he was all bare, his hard cock on show as he pulled you right onto his lap, your pussy hovering right over his tip before he pulled you down onto him, the swollen head pushing into you with ease thanks to how soaked you were.

“Oh my God,” you let out, your eyes quickly shutting. “God, feels so good.”

“Good girl. Take it. Take my cock,” Stephen murmured below you. His hands landed on your hips, holding you in place so you could work your pussy along his length.

With shaky hands, you rested them against Stephen’s chest. Pleasure was already pumping through your body as you lifted yourself up and firmly pushed back down on his cock, letting him fill you up to the brim.

“Oh, Stephen,” you cried out, your nipples hard and your pussy soaked, and your need to cum once again rising.

“That’s it. Ride my cock,” Stephen said. “Your poor father is back at the Avengers compound, waiting for you to get back to him, huh? But here you are on my cock screaming out my name.”

You gasped as you began to bounce on his cock, that swollen tip hitting that sweet spot so deep inside of you. You threw your head back as you worked your pussy up and down, up and down. It all felt so good. So filthy and bad, but so good at the same time.

“Feels so nice, Stephen,” you let out. “Your cock feels so nice.”

“Yeah? Keep riding it. Don’t stop until you cum around my cock. Come on. Don’t stop.”

You whimpered and worked your pussy up and down his cock faster, letting out little squeals every time the swollen head of his cock hit that spot so, so deep inside of you. Your pussy was stuffed with his cock, your little hole all soaked and dripping as Stephen pushed his cock so deep inside of you.

“I’m so close,” you said with a whisper. You could feel your orgasm blossoming. The delicious feeling that you were chasing. It was right there for you to grab as you bounced more and more, your nails almost digging into Stephen’s chest as he thrusted into you deep and hard from underneath. It was too much for you as you came around his cock right then and there. “Daddy, fuck. Oh, God. Please don’t stop.”

“I’m not gonna stop. I won’t fucking stop until you cum.”

“Mm, Stephen. Please. Please, please, please.” You weren’t even sure why you were begging or what you were begging for. All you knew was that Stephen felt so good buried deep inside of you. He always took you so good. Every single time. But you were always taken aback by how well he knew your body.

“Good fucking girl.” Stephen’s teeth were clenched as he flipped you both over, his cock pulling out of you. His scarred hands found your hips as he turned you around, your stomach on the bed. He grabbed at your hips, maneuvering your body so that you were on your hands and knees. “There we fucking go,” he said. “You think I’m done? Not even close.”

With that, you felt the soaked head of his cock brush up against your entrance, and then he was slamming his cock into you a second later. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you felt him stretch you out, the sensation drawn out and oh-so-delicious. It was filthy, but you couldn’t get enough of him.

“You feel so good, Stephen,” you said as Stephen pushed into you from behind. Deep. He was so deep. So deep you could feel every inch of him, his heavy balls pressed right up against your pussy. Your fingers clawed at the sheets beneath you, desperate to cling on to something as he took you and made you all his. “Feels… Feels so nice, Daddy.”

“I know. I fucking know,” Stephen muttered. “Mm, your dad would be so mad if he saw you like this, huh? He’d be so pissed off seeing you bent over with your ass in the air like this. With you taking my fucking cock.”

“He’d be so mad,” you said with a little sigh. “He’d be so angry if he saw what you were doing to me.” 

“Yeah, he’d be real fucking pissed, wouldn’t he?”

“Mhm,” you said, your eyes half closed.

You were getting lost in the pleasure of it all. Stephen was pumping his cock into you deep and fast and hard and rough, stretching you out so perfectly and taking you in a way only he could. He was balls deep inside of you, your little hole completely stuffed to the brim with his cock as he pulled out and slammed back into you with a deep, masculine grunt.

“Stephen,” you whined. “Mm, you’re so big.”

“Yeah?” he muttered. “You like that big, hard cock, sweetheart?”

“I… I do. So much!”

“That feels so good, doesn’t it?” Stephen mumbled. “I want you to cum for me. I want you to cum right around my cock. You’re so close. I can tell you’re close.”

He was right. You could already feel yourself clenching around his cock, that pleasure growing inside of you so fast you could barely take it. He kept sliding his cock deep inside of you, fucking you so deep that you were certain you could feel him in your stomach. Eyes rolling into the back of your head, you let him fuck you. You let him take you and make you all his, his length stretching you out and the swollen tip of his cock hitting that spot again and again. The feeling was so intense and wild, your pussy dripping wet and your need to meet your peak growing by the second. Your shaky fingers grabbed the sheets below you as you desperately cried out, your pussy being fucked and stuffed and pounded from behind. It was all too much. Too good. You couldn’t hold on much longer. You could feel how close you were, how wet you were, how hungry you were to cum.

“Stephen,” you cried out. “So close. I’m so… I’m so…”

“Cum for me,” he muttered from behind you, his fingers digging into your ass. “Cum for me. Cum right around my cock. Do it. I know you wanna do it. I know you’re close. Just fucking cum for me.”

It was with one more deep, long thrust of his cock that you lost all control. It just felt too good and soon you were cumming right around his cock, your pussy gushing and soaking his length as he carried on pounding into you from behind. You screamed out his name and fell to the bed, and then a second later, you heard Stephen let out a deep grunt as he pushed into you hard and fast. He was cumming too. You could feel him emptying himself inside of you, the liquid hot and sticky as he coated your walls with his seed. It was filthy and wrong. You both knew that. Stephen was so much older than you and he was one of your dad’s friends, but God, you just couldn’t help but love being so raw and dirty for him. You were pretty sure he loved it just as much as you did.

“Mm, Stephen,” you said softly. “So good.”

He was panting from behind as he flipped you over and got you settled on your back. Your mind was all hazy as he moved into the bathroom and came back with a washcloth, cleaning you up gingerly. It was funny that he could be so rough and animalistic when fucking you but then so sweet and gentle when it was all over and done with.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he got into bed, sliding up next to you.

You nodded. “I’m okay. Tired, but okay. Who wouldn’t be tired after all of that?”

He pulled you close to him, your head on his broad chest and his arm wrapped around you. You laid there in pure silence, with you listening to the sound of Stephen’s heartbeat in your ear. It was a comforting sound.

“You know, your dad would kill me if he saw you in bed with me like this,” he murmured. “He’d strangle me himself, or set his entire team onto me.”

Looking up at him, you gave him a playful roll of your eyes. “You say that all the time.”

“Well, he’d be pretty mad, don’t you think?”

Craning your neck, you gave him a little kiss. “Well, we better hope that we never get caught. That won’t end too well.”

“No, it won’t.” He laughed before his eyes landed on the clock. “How long do we have until you need to get back home?”

You followed his gaze to the clock. “Um, about an hour.”

“So, that means we have enough time for round two then, huh?”

Giggling, you looked back into his eyes. “At least let me get a little bit of rest first.”

He hummed and held you closer, and you couldn’t help but nuzzle your nose into his neck as you got lost in the feeling of him. He was right about your dad being pissed. There was no way he’d approve of you being with Stephen, but at that moment, you told yourself to forget about the consequences and focus on the wonderful feeling of being there in Stephen’s arms. You were pretty sure there was nothing better than being tangled up with him.

[geeky-politics-46]

Kinktober 2023 - Day 6

Sex Tape with Doctor Stephen Strange

"A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words"

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Summary: You are feeling self-concious & down on your appearance, but Stephen has an unconventional idea of how to make you realize how sexy & beautiful you really are.

Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - body image issues, voyeurism & exhibitionism via photo & video, dirty talk, swearing, pet names, oral sex, creampie, vaginal sex, slight daddy kink, a bit of fluff & a little angst.

You weren't even sure what had triggered your self-image issues at the moment. Honest to God, you were just sitting in bed watching a YouTube video, pursuing the sidebar recommended videos when you started comparing yourself to other people.

It didn't matter if it was just a random ad or a promo for a TV show. You started sizing yourself up to all the actresses, models, and even some normal people. No matter who it was, you felt you couldn't compare.

Your stomach was too big. Your butt was too small. You were too short. Too plain looking. Hell, sometimes you weren't even sure how you compared to average. You didn't think you were hideous, but you forever felt like the ugly duckling. Like the potential to be beautiful was there. It just never blossomed. Or, like you sabotaged being pretty by not having enough restraint to eat better or lose weight. 

For once in your life, you wanted to be the bombshell. You were too weird to be the girl next door. You always fell into the quirky/cute and funny category. People fell for you once they got to know your personality, but you knew that never once had you stopped a guy dead in his tracks across the room. 

In an effort to make yourself feel smaller, you dug around for your massive old sweatshirt. The one you wore whenever you were feeling sad. The material had piled up in places, and it was starting to get holes in others, but the super stretchy material still felt just as big and cozy as if it was brand new. The dark eggplant purple color was also somehow soothing compared to the mostly blacks and grays of your daily wardrobe.

You had settled back in, deep in your own thoughts, when your partner entered the bedroom. You had been with Doctor Stephen Strange for a while now. Long enough that you had more or less informally moved into the Sanctum. You got to spend more time with Stephen and didn't have to pay rent. It was a win-win. The only downside was that you couldn't hide from him when your inner demons reared up. 

You didn't even realize he had been talking to you as he changed out of his sorcerer's robes and into his sweats for bed. It wasn't until he sat down in front of you and lifted your chin up to look directly at him that you realized you weren't paying any attention to a thing he was saying. 

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

You hated the genuine concern on his face. He spent his days literally saving the universe, and here you were trapped inside your own spiraling thoughts. 

"Nothing is wrong."

You said it while staring down at your hands. You were never good at hiding things from Stephen when you were face to face.

"Even if I wasn't a brilliant doctor, MD, and PhD, I know that's your 'I'm sad' sweatshirt. So something is definitely wrong." 

You closed your eyes and shook your head, trying to jiggle loose the thoughts that were waying you down. Not wanting to waste Stephen's time with your shallow worries. Yeah, he was your boyfriend, but he had plenty more vastly important things to do than talk you off a self-image cliff.

"It's stupid, Stephen."

"Don't care. You've listened to me say stupid stuff plenty of times. This just makes us one closer to even."

You rolled your eyes at him, and you knew he wasn't about to give up. Stephen was the most stubborn person you had ever met. In fact, his stubbornness was part of why he pursued you for so long before you finally agreed to go out with him. If he was set on finding out what was bothering you, nothing would stop him until you told him.

So after another moment of trying to get him off the topic, you finally relented and told him what had you feeling down. Shrinking down farther into your sweatshirt as you spoke, fumbling for the right words. Letting the cozy fabric serve as its own kind of armor.

"I don't even know what got me thinking it, but I'm just feeling down on myself. That there just isn't anything about me physically that is special. I don't think I'm ugly, I just don't get why you bothered to even give me a second glance. Let alone what keeps you interested. You are the great Doctor Strange. You are so hot, Stephen, and I'm just me. I'm just plain. I'm chubby with stretch marks. You are gorgeous. You could literally be with the most beautiful women in the world."

You could see him almost flinch when you called yourself plain and that you doubted how enamored he was with you. Even if he knew it was only a passing thought, he never wanted you to question his love for you. Ever.

When it took a few moments for him to say anything in response, you immediately started to take it all back. Not wanting to drag him down into your funk with you.

"See, I shouldn't have said anything, I'm just having a bad night and -" 

Stephen cut you off with a passionate kiss. The kind of kiss that could make you forget your own name. Cupping your face in both of his hands before pulling away from your lips to place several more small kisses on your forehead and in your hairline. Gradually adjusting so he could pull you closer and wrap his arms tighter around you.

"First of all, I love you so much you don't even know. So don't think for one second I would rather be with anyone else. Second of all, I know that you don't necessarily see what I see when you look in the mirror, and you don't even have to believe me, but you are gorgeous. Do you not see that half the other guys practically trail you around like puppies? Rogers turns bright red when you smile at him, and it's a wonder Barnes and Wilson haven't followed you home like strays yet."

That made you laugh. You did know Steve had harbored a crush on you before you started dating Stephen. Tony had let that spill one night after a party. Both Sam and Bucky were such flirts all the time with everyone. Of course, they always acted sweet on you. You assumed it was just them or their way of being nice. You would have to pay better attention next time you saw them, though. Just to see. 

"If one of them does follow me home, can I keep him?" 

You squinted your eyes and pouted your lips at Stephen. You loved giving him a hard time, and he loved giving you one right back.

"Absolutely not. Even if they scratch and howl at the door all night long. I'm the only one who gets to keep strays, and that only applies to America. On a good day, maybe Parker."

You giggled and shook your head in agreement. America was definitely a great addition to your little family. It did lift your spirits a little thinking about all of that, but it still didn't leave you feeling better about yourself. 

Stephen could see the way you were picking at the skin on your hands. Like you were trying to pick away the self-consciousness or what you felt were imperfections. It was a habit he noticed you fell into when you were extra hard on yourself. So, in an effort to distract you and stop you from picking at your skin, he took one of your hands in both of his.

"Do you remember the day you held my hand the first time? Do you have any idea how terrified I was? I was terrified that you were suddenly going to realize how broken and ugly my hands are. How damaged I am, and realize just how below your own league you were dating. Still are, by the way, so maybe I shouldn't say anything. You are the sexiest most beautiful woman I have ever met, inside and out. Every inch of you is incredible and perfect to me. I thought that before you even said a word to me, and getting to know you, and falling in love with you has only made me more sure. There is no one in this universe I could ever find sexier or more special."

"Tell you what, I have an idea..." 

Stephen stood up from the bed, moving over to shut the bedroom door. Throwing the lock, too. Now that you had a teenager running about the Sanctum, it was better safe than sorry. Then, he pulled his phone from his pocket. Setting it on airplane mode as he walked back over to you.

"How about I show you what I see? Give you some actual physical proof of how beautiful you are? A picture is worth a thousand words. I imagine some more revealing, naughty photos would be worth even more."

You chuffed at him and raised a questioning brow at his suggestion. 

"Stephen, are you seriously suggesting that I let you take naked photos of me as a way of making me feel better about myself? Are you sure that isn't just gonna make you feel better?" 

His signature cheeky grin was plastered on his face, and his bright blue eyes were twinkling with mischief.

"Can't it do both? Besides, you know I've asked before for something I can enjoy when I can't have you with me, and I think you look perfect right now. Already in our bed. Already cozy and dressed for bed. Few layers to take off. This is the you I want to see when I'm not here with you."

He came over to where you were still sitting on the bed. An extra swagger in his step and a grin because of the blush you were now sporting. He started to pull teasingly at the hem of your sweatshirt with the hand he didn't have his phone in.

"Come on, take this off. I want you to see how sexy you are. I promise I will let you delete them if you want, although I certainly wouldn't mind keeping a couple for myself, but I want you to see how you look when it's just you and me. Right here, in this bed. The version of you that only I get to see, at least I do hope it's only me. A woman who puts all those supermodels and Playmates to shame. Even first thing in the morning. A goddess if one ever existed, even with bedhead and morning breath." 

Layer by layer, you let Stephen slowly strip off your clothes and arrange you on the bed. His fingers and lips adoring every new inch of skin that he exposed before proceeding to take picture after picture. Lovingly caressing every spot you deemed less than perfect. Letting him talk you through pose after pose. Some were simple and basic, normal poses. Some a bit more sultry with little left to imagine. The less clothing remained, the more bold he got with your poses. 

As your impromptu photoshoot went on, he also tried to distract you from feeling self-conscious about your body coming into view. Sometimes, by making you laugh. Sometimes, by getting a goofy look on his face as he just kind of stared at you. Almost awestruck. 

"You really have no idea how much I fantasize about you, do you? How much of my day I spend trying not to think about you? How when we first started dating, I felt like a teenager trying to control his raging hormones because all I could think of was this. What it would be like if I got the privilege to get this beautiful, incredible woman naked in my bed. That I swore if I got you here, I would never let you leave. I hate that someone ever made you feel like you are anything less than gorgeous, whether in your ratty sad sweatshirt or all dressed up. Although, this, no clothes at all, is definitely my personal favorite."

You tried not to tear up at his genuine sweetness. You could feel your cheeks blushing at his statement, too. You buried your face into the pillow you were holding before softly turning and peeking out at him from the side. Only to find him waiting for the moment you locked eyes with him to take a photo. 

In a sudden burst of confidence, you bit your bottom lip and rolled onto your back. Letting the entirety of your body be on display. Laying back and resting your head on the pillow and stretching your arms up overhead, your legs spreading on their own. You closed your eyes and arched your back as you inhaled deeply. Like you were a cat basking in the warmth of the sun. 

Your mind was completely clear of all thought until you heard a stuttered breath from your lover. It was a sound you had never heard Stephen make before. It sounded like he was looking at a priceless piece of art or one of the seven wonders. He sounded like he was in awe. Like he was in awe at the sight of your body and your beauty.

You were about to dismiss his, what you were sure had to be, over embellished praise, but then you opened your eyes. You were rendered speechless by the look of utter wonder on his face as he let his cerulean blue eyes wash over every inch of you. For possibly the first time, you saw him really seeing you, and it melted any remaining self-doubt you had in that moment.

You immediately reached out to pull Stephen to you. Wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him sweetly. Rubbing your nose against his and whispering loving thanks against his lips.

"Thank you, Stephen. I love you, and even though I don't necessarily see what you see, you always make me feel beautiful. Why don't we take a few pictures together, or maybe a video or two? Maybe I want something for when you aren't here too." 

Stephen's eyes darkened at the suggestion. You had your suspicion that Stephen had a bit of an exhibition kink. You had sent each other pics before, a short video clip or two, and sexted all the time. You knew the idea of filming the two of you fucking would intrigue him. A wicked smile found it's way to his face. 

"Oh sweetheart, you have no idea how many times I've thought of you asking that or that I've thought of asking. Are you really okay with filming us fucking? Of course it's just for the two of us. Sorcerer's honor. " 

Stephen started trying to fiddle with the phone, trying to figure out the best way to set it up to film the two of you. Finding it hard to concentrate after you started leaving kisses on his neck. Stopping to bite and suck at the spot just below his earlobe before continuing to whisper his darkest desires in his ear.

"Well, Stephen, actually the idea does get me a little hot. Maybe if the video turns out really good, a few seconds or minutes can get leaked to a naughty site or two. Anonymously, of course. I don't want to share you with any other woman, but I wouldn't mind showing off all the ways I worship you. Let everyone see how lucky I am. Maybe get some outside opinions of how we look together." 

Stephen's eyes practically rolled back in his head at the thought. He never would suggest it himself, but he kind of loved the sound of that. Of the world getting to see how good the two of you looked together. Of seeing how well you both fit together. How your bodies were made for each other.

He scrambled off the bed using the pile of books on the dresser to create a tripod to set up the phone. Hitting record and making sure the bed was centered in the frame before coming back to join you in the sheets again. He used his magic to strip himself of his clothes. If you two were going to make a sex tape, he was gonna put some extra showmanship in it.

You couldn't help but giggle as you reach your arms out towards him. Stepben didn't waste a minute before he started crawling up your body. Teasing and nipping at your bare skin and making sure to snuggle and rub his goatee against you. Your hands immediately grabbed in his dark brown hair, loving how soft and full it felt in your fingers. 

As your lips connected, you both groaned in pleasure. Your bodies grinding and rubbing. Letting your hands roam all over Stephen's body now that you had plenty of him to touch. You could feel Stephen's cock already erect between you. Truth be told, taking those photos of you had essentially acted as foreplay for him. He was ready to go by the time he was setting up the camera. 

You moaned when you felt his hard shaft slide against the crease of your hip, so close to your sex that was starting to ache for him. Your legs reflexively spread even more on the large bed, and your nails scraped down Stephen's sides. 

"Is there something you want, baby? Tell Daddy what you need."

A sly smile on his face as he spoke. Loud enough to make sure the camera heard. Descending back on you and starting to kiss your neck. Sucking a patch or skin into his mouth hard enough to ensure you would bear a mark the next day.

Your brain finally coming back into focus when he playfully bit the same sensitive spot. His bright blue eyes met yours, and he gave you a cheeky wink. 

"Come on, pretty baby. Don't get all shy on me now. Not after you let me take all those naughty pictures of you. Plus, this part was your idea, after all. So you better speak up."

A soft groan pulled from your throat as you arched your back and ran your hands up his strong arms. Letting your fingernails scrape along his shoulders. Leaving little red scratches marking him as yours. 

"Want you, Stephen. Want you to fuck me. Pretty please, Stephen. Fuck me like only you can, baby."

He rewarded you with a deep kiss, letting his teeth nip at your bottom lip before he started working his way down your neck. Stopping to whisper a "that's my good girl" in your ear before continuing down to your collarbones. Raising his voice once again so it would be audible on the video when he started speaking again.

"You know you are the only one I want to fuck right? This is the only body that gets me this fucking hard. Your's is the only pretty little pussy I dream about filling up every chance I get. Want you full of my cum all the time. Want everyone to know you're mine." 

You felt over the moon as Stephen started to kiss his way down your body. Stopping and spending a little bit of extra attention every time he hit a spot that elicited a gasp or moan. Making you arch your back to give him access to every inch of bare skin you could.

He momentarily popped back up to kiss your lips. Suddenly taking your hand in his and lowering it so you were cupping his hard length. Letting his hips rut forward as you started to eagerly massage his hard cock. Already moving to sit up, anticipating taking him in your mouth, only for him to push you back down on the bed.

"Nope, I'm not done with you, baby, lay back. Just wanted you to feel how hard you got me. Feel how much taking those naughty photos of you turned me on? And they are all mine to enjoy, just like my cock is all yours to enjoy."

With that, he promptly began working his way back down your body. Coming to rest between your thighs, pulling your legs up over his shoulders. Leaving small nips on the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh and rubbing his facial hair against your skin to tease you.

A soft "Stephen, please!" escaped from your lips as you impatiently waited for his lips and tongue to work their magic on you. Feeling your hips thrust on their own when you felt him blow against your wet cunt. Making your sex flutter and clench. One of his favorite sights. 

"Make sure you don't hold back any of those pretty noises darling, want to make sure everyone can hear. Look at the camera as I eat you out, baby." 

You followed his instructions and let your head turn to the side. Keeping your eyes open as you stared into the lens. Trying to fight the inkling of self-consciousness tugging at the back of your mind. 

Those thoughts vanished completely the moment you felt Stephen's warm tongue make its first pass through your folds. All you could focus on was the feeling of his mouth on you. The scratch of his goatee against your most sensitive spots. He was taking his time. Lavishing your cunt with long licks and sucking kisses.

Stephen was a perfectionist, and that translated into every aspect of his life. Including sex. His photographic memory helping to make sure he knew exactly what way to lick and suck at your pussy to bring you to climax in record time. Only using his fingers on occasion. He could get you there with his mouth alone. Tonight was clearly going to be one of those nights.

Your back arched as he suckled on your clit. Keeping your gaze locked on the camera lens. Making sure to give Stephen the sights and sounds he wanted for your video. A long moan falling when you felt his tongue thrusting in and out of you. Hitching your legs up higher and farther apart so he could go deeper while letting your hips start to rut against his face.

As soon as he could feel you getting close to orgasm, Stephen pulled away and pounced on you once again. Wasting no time before he started to slowly thrust his hard cock into you. His lips biting at your neck.

He growled when you whimpered at the feeling of his cock bottoming out inside you. Holding perfectly still and letting you start to squirm beneath him. Wanting you to beg him to move. 

"Tell me what you want. Want you to say it again. Say it to the camera, sweetheart. Tell them why you're whimpering."

Your face now contorted into a pout as you tried so hard to get any sort of friction. Stephen's hips pushed flush to yours, holding you firmly in place.

"Want you to fuck me, Stephen. Need you to fuck me hard. Make me feel good, daddy. Please make me cum. Please."

He smiled and kissed you deeply. Bringing his hands to cup your face and giving you another moment of sweet intimacy before he gave you what you wanted. Pulling away and pulling your legs up over his shoulders. Scooting you just a little so the camera would be able to see his cock stretching and filling you. Once he had you right where he wanted you he began thrusting. 

"You asked for it, sweetheart. You turn me on so fucking much. This is just gonna be the first time I make you cum tonight. I'm not gonna stop until you feel like a goddess. My goddess." 

You reached up to intertwine you fingers with his as he started fucking you harder. Leaning forward so your ass was slightly lifted up off of the bed and his tip was pummeling that sweet spongy spot on your front wall. Making you clench around him each time he hit it. Your voice coming out in little squeaks and the sound of skin slapping punctuating Stephen's movements. 

You could already feel your orgasm building when Stephen moved to bring one hand down to begin rubbing at your clit. Pulling his cock out long enough to smear some of your wetness on the swollen bundle of nerves. Your cunt immediately clenching around him as he started tracing small circles there with his thumb. 

"That's it, my love. Can feel you getting close. You better cum soon because I'm not gonna be able to hold on much longer. Wanna fill you up every day. Mark you as mine. Inside and out. Fuck, baby, I'm gonna cum."

Stephen's own dirty talk getting the best of him. His head dropping down to watch his cock slamming in and out of your drenched cunt. Your pussy gripping tight around him sending him over the edge. His thrusts getting faster and his fingers on your clit mirroring his hips.

He let out a deep groan as he started cumming inside you. The feeling of his warm thick cum filling you triggering your own orgasm. Your cunt drenching his cock and his cum filling you completely. Your moans mingling in harmony with Stephen's. Your hands that were still clasped gripping each other tighter. 

Stephen's body falling onto yours and your lips meeting for slow, sweet kisses as your highs continued to ebb and flow. The sensations slowly fading as you came back down together. The feeling of Stephen's weight on top of you lulling you closer to sleep. All worries and neuroses disappearing and receding back into the depths of your mind. 

You were with Stephen, and Stephen loved you exactly as you were. He only had eyes for you, and he would love you no matter what. Even on days when you couldn't see your beauty, you knew he would help you to see it. Even when you didn't love yourself, he would give you enough love for both of you.

Eventually, Stephen rolled to the side and pulled you with him. Settling you under the covers and holding you close. Pressing kisses all over your face as you floated in the twilight space between waking and sleep. Not moving or pulling away until your breath settled into a steady rhythm that told him you were close to sleep.

Then Stephen stood up and went over to the phone. Stopping the recording and bringing the phone back over to the bed. Setting it down on his nightstand and purposely not setting his usual morning alarm. He wanted to sleep in with you tomorrow. He would deal with Wong later.

You were too exhausted to review the products of your photoshoot right now, but the next time you were feeling down or self-conscious, Stephen would be ready to show you just how beautiful you really were. If you still didn't believe him, maybe he would bring up the idea of an outside opinion like you suggested. You would have the world drooling over you, and he would get to gloat that you were all his.

--------------------------------

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Stephen Strange Taglist: @starkiller-queen @glitterylokislut @verycollectivecreator @chatampr @maskmare931 @lovecleastrange @wheredafandomat @mkixx @evelynrosestuff @katefullerrr @littlepinknightmare @foofarny @stygianoir @moonroyalt @saturnsbabe69 @blaxdet @blackrose-92 @ironstrange1991 @ghxul-x @nancy-thompsons @wolfatheartandsoul @dangerouslittlefairy @n0obmaster-69 @oliveoilthoughts @onebatch--twobatch @yourmajesty13 @blondekel77 @lil-sweater-slut @gwephen @taramaria @sinceimetyou @slashersrus @coeurgrenaty @cc13723things @just--a-magpie @supervengerslock @strangelockd @dont-feel-so-good-peter @kingsmanperfecthartwin @ghost-lantern @inlovewithloki16 @thefalconandthewinterwidowshield @itssmaugtheterrible @katherinemaximoff @veryfancydoilies @cute-angi @mochacake2016 @prix19 @alexfanficnook @anotheroddfish @namor-is-the-way @xourownsidee @baes-x @dreamingsmile @negar77rd @imaginesfreetotake @ppatricia34me @rougepetale @tis-vereon @divinearchangel @sherlux @hiddlechive @ginnykate @thatesqcrush @friendofplenti @yuugenmomo @holdmyowos @the-royal-petals @lokislov3 @captaincarmel164 @lucimorningst4r @mydearalmira @petalcranberry @singhfae @emotionsareforuglypeople @trappedinlimbo15 @veryladyqueen @icytrickster17 @kentucky-criedfricken @briefhandsstudenttoad @calamityismyspecialty @sinisterstrange616 @patbrdac @trojanaurora @azu21 @massivehahaao3tree @strangesgirls @tobios-shawty @evelyn-kingsley @rmoonstoner

[biblicallyaccuratemeat]

Placebo

MDNI!!!!

A/N: Yeah…this is fucked. I apologize in advance. I love Stephen with all my heart, but I believe the man has the emotional capacity of a brick. He has the potential to be a great boyfriend but he is stubborn and dumb as fuck! I’m also trying to be a bit more introspective with my writing style so I hope I pulled that off! Stephen Strange x female reader, mentioned/past Stephen x Christine, hurt no comfort, possibly unrequited love, rough fucking, dubcon, dead dove: do not eat, Stephen is a piece of shit in this, fingering, p in v sex, rough fingering, biting, scratching, dacryphilia, mean dirty talk, no aftercare, godawful relationship dynamics at play here, friends with benefits, this shit is depressing and horny.

Word count: 5.8k

The first time it happens, you’re justifiably pissed. Because you know she exists and you know he still loves her. But he never talks about her, never mentions her, she’s a ghost as far as you’re concerned. You know he compares you to her. That eidetic memory cataloguing each reaction and cross referencing it with hers. It makes you feel sick and disgusted and used. The worst possible feeling, under your skin and visceral. You don’t say anything. You don’t bring it up. You act as if he didn’t even gasp out that soft, “Christine.” In a voice far more tender and wanting than he’s ever uttered yours.

The second time, you just feel numb. Because it is happening again and somehow it’s even worse this time. Why are you even surprised at this point? So, you screw your eyes shut and try to just focus on the feeling of him impaling you on his cock. Move on with your life and come. 

It happens again and again. You don’t even care anymore, not really. At least that’s what you tell yourself when you’re lying in his bed and his seed is drying between your thighs. You can feel the ache radiating off him, you can taste his yearning. It’s bitter and acrid and burns your tongue. And your stupid little heart just falls even more in love with him. Can you really be angry if you’re willingly putting yourself into this situation? Fool you once, shame on you. Fool you twice, you’ll still let him fuck you on every available surface of the Sanctum.

Like clockwork, another Saturday night and another text from Stephen, inviting you over. Inviting is really a generous term, his texts are brief and straight to the point just like the rest of him. So, when your phone buzzes with a ‘ Come over.’ you all but scramble to your feet. You’re long past trying to impress him, trying to earn his favor or a compliment. So, you head to the Sanctum dressed in a casual outfit consisting of sweatpants and some old t-shirt. The cab ride isn’t long and you find yourself outside 177A Bleecker Street, a weird pit sinking into your stomach.

You let yourself in as always, expertly navigating the winding hallways of the old building. You find him in his study, standing by the window, staring out at the dark New York skyline. The city lights flickered and danced, reflecting in the glass and casting an ethereal glow across his chiseled features. He took a sip of whiskey—his drink of choice, even if it did little to numb the ache in his chest.

He heard the door open behind him and knew it was you. The soft click of the latch, followed by the gentle swish of fabric as you entered the room. A part of him wished to turn, to greet you with warmth and affection. But he remained still, feigning disinterest as he gazed into the night. It wasn't that he didn't care for you. In truth, you had grown close—intimately so. Nights spent tangled in his sheets, lost in the throes of passion and physical pleasure. But Stephen could never quite give his heart away, no matter how much his body craved your touch.

You deserved someone who could love you wholly and completely. And though Stephen admired your strength, your intellect, your unwavering loyalty—he could not give you the one thing he knew you yearned for. A majority of his heart still belonged to Christine—trapped in the past, frozen in time. He finished his drink, setting the glass aside before finally turning to face you. His eyes raked over your form, taking in the curves he knew so well. The swell of your breasts, the dip of your waist, the way your hips swayed as you approached him.

“I wasn’t sure if you'd be coming over tonight." His voice was low, tinged with a hint of something almost resembling tenderness. But his eyes remained guarded—shielded, as if daring you to press for more.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at his cool demeanor, this was the game, the chase, if you could call it that. Was it really a chase if you’d willingly throw yourself at his feet if he so much as asked? You clear your throat, stepping further into the opulent room, running a fingertip along some old leather-bound tome perched on one of the many bookshelves lining the walls. “You asked me to come over, so I did,” You say, carefully neutral, not daring to toe the line yet, “I can leave, if you want…?”

You sneak a glance at him, praying to whatever God that was listening that you didn’t sound and look as pathetic as you feel. He’s not even looking at you anymore, fuck. Taking a deep breath you step closer, maintaining a somewhat respectful distance. You learned early on, you have to let him come to you. Maybe he preferred initiating, maybe it was the way you approached it. Your traitorous mind begins to wander, what was it like with her ? Did he let her take the lead? Probably.

He took a step towards you, closing the distance between your bodies. Bingo , he was close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off his skin. Stephen reached out, his fingers brushing against yours as he removed your hand from the book. His thumb lingered on your knuckles for a moment before he let his hand fall away.

"Leave?" He echoed, his gravelly voice dripping with disbelief. "Why would I ask you to come over if I wanted you to leave?"

It was a rhetorical question—one Stephen didn't expect an answer to. Instead, he took another step closer, invading your personal space as he loomed over you. His eyes searched yours, looking for any hint of doubt or dissatisfaction. But he saw none. Only tentative playfulness and a spark of something deeper—something Stephen refused to acknowledge. His heart belonged to Christine, and you knew that. You were his confidante, his lover, his outlet—but never his partner in the way that truly mattered.

“Stay." It wasn't a request, but a command. Firm and unwavering, just like everything else about him. "You're not going anywhere. We both know you don't want to."

His hand found your waist, fingers splaying across the curve of your hip as he held you against him. Stephen's other hand tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, the brush of his fingers against your cheek sending a shiver down your spine. You melt in his arms, preening under his attention like a flower in sunshine. You wish it was easier to resist him, that you could put on the same aloof act and leave him wanting, but you can’t. It’s not in your nature and you’re sure you’d never say no to him, never deny him. He could hurt you, break you, shape you into something, someone unrecognizable. And you’d stay, you’d let it happen, you’d fucking thank him.

You tilted your head, gazing up at Stephen with an ideally playful smirk that played at the corners of your lips. "You’re infuriatingly bossy," you murmured, your voice a low, teasing purr. "Good thing you're utterly gorgeous, or I swear your arrogance would drive me up the wall. As it is..."

You trailed off, letting your words hang in the air between you. You couldn't deny the way your heart raced at his proximity, or the heat gathering between your thighs. Stephen had a certain magnetism, a charisma that drew you in. And you’d never get enough of him, you were addicted. The high you got from his praise, his touch, his attention…it was your own personal drug, heady and just for you. Your small hand came up to rest against his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt. You bit your lower lip, glancing away briefly before meeting his gaze again with a wry, almost challenging smile. "No one else could get away with being so damn bossy. But you? With your pretty eyes and gray hairs?"

You reached up to wind your fingers through the gray locks at his temple, your nails lightly scraping against his scalp. Leaning in closer, you nuzzled your nose against his jaw, breathing in the scent of his cologne—a mix of sandalwood, pepper, and something undeniably magical.

"Guess that's why I keep allowing you to invite me over."

As you spoke, your hand drifted lower, fingers splaying across Stephen's stomach. You could feel the hard planes and ridges you’ve come to know so intimately. Your touch lingered at the waistband of his pants before drifting back up to hook a finger in his collar. "And the real question is, Doctor Strange, what are you going to do with me now that you've got me here?" you asked, your voice a breathless tease. You arched a brow, awaiting his answer with anticipation simmering in your eyes.

You’d never met Christine, but you saw her in the news occasionally and once you found a picture of her in Stephen’s nightstand. She was gorgeous, because of course she was, and you picked up the vibe that she was witty like Stephen. So, you try to play it coy, teasing and flirty, hoping he’ll get off on it the way he got off with Christine. If he does, maybe, just maybe he’ll love you as much as he loved her, if not more.

Stephen's eyes darkened with unconcealed hunger as they roamed over your curves, his gaze lingering on every dip and swell. Your teasing words and playful touches ignited a fire within him—one that could never be entirely quenched, no matter how many nights you spent tangled in his bed. Admittedly, he had always been drawn to you—your intelligence, your wit, your unshakable spirit. On the nights when the darkness threatened to consume him, he sought solace in your arms. Found a different kind of escape in the way your body moved beneath his, in the breathy moans that slipped past your lips. But Stephen could never quite bring himself to cross that invisible line. To bare his soul completely and lay it at your feet. A part of him remained closed off, forever locked away in the past. Still bound to Christine, even as his hands explored the soft skin of your thighs. Your finger in his collar drew him back to the present, and Stephen caught your gaze with a look that spoke of unbridled desire. In the space between your bodies, he could feel the air crackling with tension, heavy with promise.

His hand slid from your waist to the small of your back, pressing you flush against him as he leaned in to nuzzle your neck. Stephen's lips brushed against your pulse point, his breath hot against your skin as he inhaled your scent—sweet and floral, with a hint of something uniquely you.

"If you wanted a man with subtlety, perhaps you shouldn't have come to me," Stephen murmured, his voice a low, husky rumble that sent vibrations through your body. "But since you're here..."

In one swift motion, he swept you into his arms, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as he carried you towards the bedroom. Stephen kicked the door shut behind him, leaving you both alone in the dimly lit space. He lowered you onto the bed, his body covering yours as he settled between your parted thighs. Stephen's eyes held yours captive, his gaze intense and consuming. There was no tenderness in his expression—only a raw, fierce hunger that made your heart race. His hands began to wander, mapping out the curves he knew so well. Stephen's fingers danced along your ribs before cupping the heavy weight of your breasts. He kneaded the soft flesh, his thumbs brushing against the peaks of your nipples until they strained against the fabric of your bra and your shirt. Stephen leaned down, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck as he began to trace a path of open-mouthed kisses from your collarbone to the lobe of your ear. He nipped at the tender flesh, soothing the sting with his tongue before whispering, "Now, I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight. Until my name is the only word you remember."

His words go straight to your pussy, hot and gooey and slick. The butterflies in your belly fluttering downwards. It was a promise and a threat all in one, delivered in the same low, gravelly tone that never failed to make your toes curl. Stephen's hand drifted lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your sweatpants to cup your cunt through your panties. He could feel the damp heat of you, could sense the way your body responded to his touch. You wish you could be embarrassed by how soaked you were, how needy and pliant you became whenever he shoved a hand down your pants. And you knew that he would gladly take advantage of your weakness for him, he’d do it without a second thought or your permission.

"This is my pussy to wreck, and wreck it I will."

It wasn't a request. It wasn't even a question. Stephen knew you would give yourself to him—mind, body, and soul. And though he could never reciprocate the depth of your devotion, he would take what you offered and give you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams. With a low growl, Stephen captured your mouth in a searing kiss—one that demanded surrender and promised ecstasy. His tongue delved deep, tangling with yours in a dance as old as time. Stephen's hands never stilled, continuing to stroke and tease, to knead and caress every inch of exposed skin until your body was aching with need. It was unfair how easily he worked your body, like an instrument only he knew to play. On the rare occasions you went down on him, took his fat dick in your mouth or gave him a hand job as you crouched under his desk, he barely gave you a semblance of a reaction. You couldn’t get a read on him, didn’t know if he liked it or hated it, if he wanted more or for you to stop. His face was impassive, save for the occasional twitch of his eyebrow or that little vein in his temple popping. Whereas you were maybe too enthusiastic, too loud. There was a part of you though, that’s glad you don’t know what’s going on his mind, because you’re almost certain you wouldn’t like it.

You arched your back, a breathy moan escaping your lips as Stephen's hands and mouth worked over your sensitive skin. Under his expert touch, you could feel your body melting, growing pliant and eager. Your tits heaved with each ragged breath you took, nipples straining against the flimsy fabric of your lacy bra. Stephen wasted no time in divesting you of your top, yanking it a bit too roughly over your head as his impatience got the better of him. Cool air hit your flushed skin and you shivered, goosebumps erupting across the expanses of your flesh. Stephen's eyes darkened as he drank in the sight of you, hot and hungry, taking in every dip and curve.

"Stephen..." You gasped out, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. And it was a prayer, just as much as Stephen was your god, cruel and benevolent all at once. Your fingers clenched in his dark hair, fingernails scraping against his scalp as you held him to your chest. Stephen's mouth found your nipple, his lips wrapping around the rosy peak before he sucked hard through the lace of your bra, sending jolts of pleasure-pain straight to your core. You could feel the heat gathering between your thighs, core clenching and fluttering around nothing. Stephen's hand dipped lower, fingers brushing against your panty-clad mound. He could no doubt feel the embarrassing damp patch darkening the fabric, could sense the need that throbbed in your veins.

"Please," You whimpered, hips rolling instinctively into his touch. "Please, Stephen..."

You knew you should feel self-conscious and you wish you would, splayed out beneath him like a feast for the taking. But all your idiotic brain could focus on was the way he made you feel—consumed, alive, undone. Stephen owned every piece of you in that moment, and you knew he knew it.

You feel a bit helpless as your breathing grows heavier, strands of hair plastered to your damp forehead. You gazed up at him with hooded doe eyes, your nose just inches from his. You looked young, innocent even— a far cry from the experienced woman you had become in his bed. But right then, all you wanted was for Stephen to take you, to fill you, to make good on all his promises. Though he knows he shouldn’t, Stephen can’t help but silently compare your reactions to Christine’s. It’s second-nature at this point and his eidetic memory is a burden in moments like this. He always, always, always compared the memory of her to you. The way the pitch of your laugh is strikingly similar to hers, the way your skin flushes in different spots under his gaze than hers did, the taste of your cunt, the way you feel coming apart on his cock. You’re a pretty distraction, not necessarily a cheap substitute, he made sure of that. He took his time, ensuring there were plenty of differences, many ways you were nothing like her at all. 

Stephen's heart clenched as he listened to the desperation in your voice. The way you gasped and arched beneath him, your body surrendering to the pleasure he inflicted, stirred something deep within him—some instinct to possess and conquer. He knew he should be gentler, should cherish and worship your body with the reverence it deserved. But Stephen was consumed by a hunger that far outweighed simple appreciation. If you wanted to be worshipped, you would have gone to a different kind of man, but no, you came to him. And he needed to ruin you in the most basic, visceral way imaginable.

Icy eyes raked over you, drinking in every inch of exposed skin. The way your tits heaved and strained against the confines of your bra, begging to be freed. Stephen's shaky hands made quick work of the clasp, the scrap of lace falling away to reveal the perfect globes of your flesh. He couldn't help but compare them silently to Christine's, as he always did. Not that it mattered—not with the way your nipples pebbled under his searing gaze, begging for his touch.

Irreverently, Stephen's mouth found your nipple, engulfing the rosy peak as he sucked hard. He groaned against your breast as he felt the dampness of your arousal grow tenfold, your body already so eager and ready for him. Stephen circled your clothed slit, feeling your hips buck instinctively into his touch. The way you whimpered his name, the breathless desperation in your voice, only fueled his own desire.

Stephen's cock throbbed insistently against the confines of his pants, straining towards you like there was some kind of magnetic pull between your flesh. He was achingly hard, painfully aroused—every fiber of his being focused on the stunning creature splayed out before him. With a muttered curse, he practically ripped your panties from your body, leaving you bare and exposed. Stephen settled between your parted thighs, the thick ridge of his erection nestling perfectly against your soaked, swollen folds.

He captured your mouth in a bruising kiss, swallowing your gasps and whimpers as his fingers dipped between your legs. Stephen's digits slid through your slick arousal, stroking and circling your sensitive clit until your hips began to grind urgently against his hand. He settled over you, the scorching heat of his bare skin searing yours. Stephen's lips found the tender spot on your neck, his mouth open and hungry as he suckled and nipped at the delicate flesh. He thrusted his fingers deep into your hot, clasping pussy. Stephen pumped in and out of your channel, curling and stroking that spot within you that made your toes curl and your back arch off the bed. His other hand drifted down to the straining bulge in his pants, palming his cock through the fabric before finally freeing it from its confines. Stephen knew you could feel every thick, throbbing inch of him as he ground against you—could sense the way his body ached to be buried inside you.

You’re in raptures, trembling and arching and writhing beneath him. His mouth on your tit and fingers on your cunt could probably make you come right now if he tried. But you know he won’t, he lived for the build up, for the opportunity to show you how well he knows your body and how desperate he can make you. You moan eagerly, spreading your thighs wider to accommodate Stephen, “Yes, right there,” You sigh out dreamily, eyes fluttering shut and arching into his hand and mouth. You can hear the shlicking of his other hand, wet from your cunt, wrapped around his dick as he strokes it in tandem with his fingers. He groans, fuck he finally makes a fucking noise, and you whine in response, pussy leaking in delight.

“Fuck, Christine,” he grunts around your tit, and he’s committed to it, not even hesitating to murmur out that name. You freeze, your heart plummeting into your stomach, the fever Stephen was stoking beneath your skin doused in cold water. Your hands in his hair drop, sitting uselessly by your side as you try to swallow what feels like shards of glass. 

“What the fuck?” You whisper, voice thick, trying to stave off the tears of shame and hurt welling up in your eyes, “Are you fucking for real?” You wanted to sound angry, but it comes out small and pathetic, almost whiny. Your cheeks burn with shame as you gaze at the man above you, silently begging for an explanation that won’t shatter your heart into a million irreparable pieces.

The utterance of Christine's name slipped out before Stephen could stop it—the ghost of her memory still lingering, even now. He cursed himself for the slip, watching the color drain from your face as you stared up at him with wounded eyes. In that moment, Stephen felt a pang of guilt, a twinge of regret. But it was quickly replaced by something darker—the frustrated rage of a man who had lost control. Lost control of his heart, his life, his very identity.

Stephen surged forward, his fingers plunging deeper into your dripping cunt as his cock jerked angrily against your thigh. He could feel the way your silken walls clenched around his digits, hear your gasp of hurt morph into a moan of reluctant pleasure. You didn’t want to like this, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction or let it slide that he just fucking moaned her name. His touch turned rougher, more demanding. Stephen's palm ground mercilessly against your clit as he finger-fucked you with sharp, brutal thrusts. He could feel the wet, obscene slap of flesh against flesh as he violated your cunt.

"Stop being ridiculous," Stephen growled, his voice a low, furious rumble. "You think I don't know what I want? You think I can't tell the difference between you and..."

He trailed off, swallowing the rest of Christine's name as if it left a bitter taste on his tongue. Stephen's eyes flashed with anger, his expression tight and unyielding as he loomed over you.

"And who else would I be calling out to, sweetheart? Who else would I be begging for? Certainly not you," he taunted, punctuating his words with a particularly harsh thrust of his fingers. Stephen knew he was being cruel, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. You whimper at his words, bottom lip trembling. You’re going to fucking cry, you know that much, and you’ll probably come too. His other hand drifted up to wrap around your throat, not squeezing, but firm and possessive. Stephen's thumb brushed over your racing pulse, feeling it jump beneath his touch.

"You are the one in my bed, sweetheart. You are the one spreading your legs for me, begging me to fill you. So stop your whining, and take what I give you." It was a command, not a request. Stephen's voice was rough with barely restrained lust, his eyes burning into yours with a fierceness that made your heart stutter. You feel a mixture of terror, anger, hurt, and traitorous arousal. Damn him, damn his silver tongue, his gorgeous face, damn Stephen Strange. Most of all, damn the fact that you hadn’t met him first. It was unlikely and nearly impossible that you would have, but you’d like to imagine if you had…He’d love you, you’d be married, three kids, white picket fence. The whole nine yards and you wouldn’t have to exist with this fucking rain cloud looming over you.

He pulled his fingers out of your dripping cunt, bringing them up to his mouth. Stephen licked them clean with a low moan, his tongue swirling around the digits to lap up every drop of your arousal. Then, positioning himself at your entrance, Stephen gripped your hips bruisingly tight and thrust forward— burying himself to the hilt inside your perfect, velvety heat with one ruthless stroke. Hot, bitter tears slipped down your flushed cheeks as you lay there, frozen beneath Stephen. Your heart felt like it was being carved out of your chest with each ragged breath. It hurt, God did it hurt, knowing you were just a poor imitation in his eyes. But despite the anguish clawing at your throat, you found yourself arching your back, hips tilting up to take him deeper.

You couldn't explain it nor did you really want to acknowledge it, but some dark, masochistic part of you reveled in the brutal way he wrecked your body. As if proving he could still want you, even if it was just for the physical act. You bit your lip hard, tasting blood, as he began to move. Each violent thrust sent waves of reluctant pleasure radiating through you, making you clench and quiver around his pistoning cock. You kept crying, pathetic and stretched out, lost to the sensations, to the heartbreak.

"I hate you, I hate her, I hate this whole fucked up thing," You whimpered brokenly, even as you wrapped your legs around his waist. You clung to him, fingernails digging into the bunched muscles of his back, anchoring yourself against the overwhelming sensations. More insults spilled from your lips between hitching sobs and choked moans. Apologies for not being her. For failing to live up to some unattainable standard only Stephen could see.

But even through the pain and the tears, you submitted to his brutal pace. Your body betrayed you, surrendering to the searing slide of Stephen's cock splitting you open. You could feel every thick, throbbing inch of him, stretching you in ways that edged pleasure and agony. The wet, filthy sounds of your cunt filled the room, a perverse symphony of slick skin slapping against skin and strangled cries etched with despairing ecstasy. You fought an internal battle, torn between not wanting to come, not wanting to give him the satisfaction and the bone deep, all consuming burn of needing to do just that like you needed oxygen.

Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts, but your body sang with a life of its own. Stephen owned it, possessed it, fucking you with a single-minded intensity that stole your breath and shattered your composure. You were just a vessel for his lust, a set of holes to pour his frustration into. And God help you, but some dark, secret part of you liked being used like this. Needed to be punished, to feel his fury and his hate and all the things he could never put into words. You buried your face in his shoulder, biting down hard on the corded muscle to muffle your sobs. The taste of his skin, the scent of him—pepper and smoke and something uniquely Stephen—flooded your senses. You inhaled deeply, drowning in him, even as you wept for the woman you could never be. You felt so fucking tired, so utterly exhausted down to your very soul. But your body was a liar, writhing and bucking beneath his brutal assault, chasing an impossible climax. You knew you were going to come harder than you ever had before and the fact left you feeling mortified.

"Fuck you," You choked out, voice raw and ragged. "Fuck you for making me feel like this. For reducing me to this...this thing. I love you. I fucking love you."

You didn't know if you said it out loud or just screamed it in your head, trapped in the hell of your own making. All you knew was the searing ache between your legs, the cruel twist in your guts, and the overwhelming, inescapable truth that you were hopelessly in love with Stephen Strange. A love that consumed you, body and soul, even as it destroyed you.

Stephen got off on your anger, got off on your tears, it spurred him on and he couldn’t help but continue to moan Christine’s name, each one raising in volume. You were an ache, an appetite, a means to an end for him. Nothing more, nothing less. Stephen ignored your anguished sobs and hateful words, lost in the silken heat of your body as he pounded into you without mercy. He could feel your nails raking down his back, your legs clinging desperately to his waist as he split you open on his throbbing cock.

Each brutal thrust sent jolts of reluctant pleasure coursing through you, your cunt clenching and fluttering around him like a vice. Stephen groaned at the exquisite sensation, his hips snapping forward with brutal precision. He was fucking you with a single-minded intensity, determined to ruin your body utterly and completely. Even as he lost himself in your cunt, memories of her haunted him—the way her voice would catch on a moan, the hot stickiness of her cunt around his cock. But you were here now, writhing and mewling beneath him, taking everything he gave you without a word of true protest.

Stephen tangled a hand in your hair, wrenching your head back to bare the slender column of your throat to his hungry mouth. He bit and suckled at the tender skin, marking you, claiming you as his if only on a superficial level. His other hand drifted down to where you were joined, fingers finding your aching clit and rubbing merciless circles over the swollen nub.

"That's it," Stephen growled, his voice a dark, sinful rumble against your throat. "Take it all, you little slut. Take everything I give you."

He could feel your body drawing taut, could sense your impending orgasm building like a storm deep in your belly. You tried to stave off the impending ecstasy, screwing your eyes shut and whimpering but that only encouraged him. Stephen pistoned his hips faster, fucking into you with sharp, brutal thrusts that struck sparks off his nerve endings. Lost in a haze of lust and longing and bitter, twisted memories, Stephen thought he heard you whisper that you loved him. But it couldn't be—that must be some cruel trick of his imagination. He was too far gone, too consumed by the tight, velvet grip of your cunt to pay it any mind. Instead, Stephen lost himself in the debauched symphony of skin slapping against skin, of your strangled sobs and gasps. He chased his pleasure in the slick, fluttering heat of your pussy, the way your body opened and surrendered and begged for more.

You come harder than you ever have in your life, body convulsing uncontrollably as you sob and hiccup beneath Stephen. Tears stream down your flushed cheeks, dripping off your chin and onto the sweat-slicked sheets. You weakly push at his chest, still reeling from the intensity of your climax, anger and overwhelming heartache coursing through your veins. You try to regain some semblance of composure. Your hair a wild, just-fucked mess around your blotchy, tear-streaked face. You feel utterly wrecked, inside and out, your soul laid bare and your body defiled by his brutal fucking.

“I love you, you arrogant, infuriating bastard. I must be out of my goddamn mind…”  You whisper hoarsely, the words torn from the depths of your shattered heart. Your fingers curl into the sweat-soaked sheets, craving something—anything—to anchor yourself to reality. With a harsh, guttural moan, Stephen came hard and deep—his cock pulsing and jerking as he spilled himself inside you. He flooded your womb with his hot, thick seed, his hips rocking shallowly against yours as he rode out the waves of his release.

In the aftermath, Stephen collapsed against you, his weight crushing you into the mattress. He could feel your tears soaking into his chest, hear your choked, trembling breaths as you fought to regain your composure.

But Stephen didn't offer any words of comfort or reassurance. Instead, he simply rolled over onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, his chest heaving and sweat glistening on his skin. Silently, he cursed himself for letting Christine's memory intrude, for reducing you to this weepy, pathetic thing. But Stephen knew, with a dark and twisted sense of satisfaction, that he would fuck you like this again. He would use your body for his pleasure, would make you cry over and over until there was no question of how either of you felt.

“I'm going to leave.” The words left your chapped lips in a hoarse whisper, your voice ragged from your sobs of anguish and moans of rapture. Part of you prayed, foolishly perhaps, that Stephen would reach out and ask you to stay. That he would pull you close, whisper that he did, in fact, love you too and he could finally forget all about Christine. But you couldn't linger here, not with the bitter taste of tears still fresh on your tongue and the lingering ache of his possession throbbing between your thighs. You needed to escape this gilded cage before the cruel whims of his desire trapped you forever. 

So you pushed yourself up on quivering arms, the silk sheets tangling around your thighs as you levered your form off the bed. You didn't dare look back at Stephen as you gathered your scattered clothes, fingers fumbling to tug your t-shirt back on. You couldn't bear to see the surface-level hunger in his eyes, the flickering ghosts of a love long lost. Or worse, the apathetic indifference. And he doesn’t call out, he doesn’t stop you, he doesn’t say goodbye. You know as much as you know the sun will rise tomorrow, that when he beckons you once more, you’ll come without question and relive this all over again.

[leviathanspain]

he’s got that fire

doctor strange x reader

synopsis: you have an unusual relationship with your mentor/boss, and when he asks you to be his date to an important awards ceremony, you can’t help but relish in his fire

a/n: stephen strange is so lana del rey coded omff, so heavy sad girl vibes. i haven’t proofread and it’s longer than any of my usual works i think.

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he always told you how much of a gift it was for him to choose you. it was always like that, he chose you, like some god. that he had made your life better by choosing to be in it. he repeated that to you whenever you became ‘insubordinate’.

you never really argued though. you knew that it wasn’t ever the right thing to do, especially with someone so arrogant, you’d be wasting a breath and your career if you did so.

but you learned to live with his narcissism, he was the best surgeon in new york, and arguably in the states. his credentials are why you’ve never argued back.

this day was not any different.

“i said that we should do the shunt.” stephen stared at the films. he was cross, had been since the morning and was now profoundly irritated but hadn’t stated why.

“you’ll kill him. think about it, what if we do another approach in a few days? give him enough recovery time so that when you actually do the surgery, he won’t die on the table.” you explained your decision, but stephen had already stopped listening. he was shaking his head, clearly none of this was going as he wanted.

“stephen-“ you closed your eyes, already preparing to apologize for undermining him, when he shushed you. “i-“ you scoffed but didn’t say anything else.

“we’ll do it tomorrow. it’ll be the first surgery of the day, i want it to go well.” he recycled your idea, and turned around with a nod, “get me dr. palmer. i want her to be in there.” he demanded.

you looked up from your notepad and raised your eyebrows, “you don’t want me in there?” you were his student, his resident, you were assigned to scrub in on all his surgeries-

“no. i want dr. palmer. that is final.” he stalked over to the door, pulling it open and letting it shut behind him without another word.

you couldn’t lie and say you were disappointed. you had hoped that after last night, that you and stephen had finally come to an understanding. but this had just proved that he wasn’t capable of listening. and that he was still hopelessly in love with christine.

“dr. l/n.” a nurse had stopped you as you walked around, moping about stephen kicking you off the surgery. she handed you some papers, “dr. strange has requested you in his office. and he needs to sign these papers for the patient in 203.” she smiled thinly, clearly making you do part of her job.

you shoved the papers back, and stalked off.

you had swiped a salad on your way to his office. you had learned from the first few times that stephen requesting you in his office was like attending a lecture, all about him. and you wouldn’t starve if you were going to be stuck there.

you knocked on the door once before pushing it open. stephen was sitting at his desk, an untouched piece of salmon and greens was in front of him. he didn’t even look up when you walked in.

“what’s up?” you set your salad down, including some of your patient files. you took the chair opposite of his, and cracked open your salad.

“i hate it when you speak like that.” his eyes remained glued to his computer screen.

you looked up, rolling your eyes, “one of the nurses said you requested me? might i inquire why or are we just going to stare at each other and pretend like last night didn’t happen?” you were angry.

he could tell.

your voice shook with a twinge of rage that only he could be the reason behind. it was always the same twinge, it was the same twinge earlier when he had requested christine for the surgery.

his eyes broke away from the screen for the first time since you had walked in. he stared at you, as if trying to calculate this moment in his head. he paused, silence taking the both of you as he stared into your eyes.

“i- i didn’t want to have to do this-“ stephen sighed, “we’re at work. when we’re working, i’m your boss, you are my resident. we can talk about us, later.” he sounded so professional that if you didn’t know him so well, you’d probably throw yourself on the floor and beg for forgiveness.

“just tell me why you picked her over me. that’s all i want to know.” you challenged, your eyes boring into his.

stephen scoffed, “i chose dr. palmer because she is a more experienced surgeon than you. you would just-“

“fuck it up?” you finished his sentence and rolled your eyes, “if you don’t have faith in me than that is a reflection on your abilities as a teacher, as my mentor.”

“no it is not. because if you actually did what you were told, you would be on your way to making an incredible surgeon. but you aren’t. you’d be mediocre at best.” his words cut hard. he hadn’t blinked, and you didn’t dare to look away.

it was weakness to look away. you had to be able to continue to stare him down, if he was going to listen to you.

“i do exactly as i am told. last night was the perfect example of that, wasn’t it, doctor?” you raised your eyebrows and incredibly, stephen broke the eye contact.

“get out.” he returned his gaze to the computer screen and you were taken aback.

“what-“

“i said get out. get your shit, and get the fuck out of my office.” stephen didn’t hesitate to yell at you, which made you want to cringe.

you stood up, sighing as you collected your things, you had almost made it out when you stopped, hand lingering on the doorknob, “this is why christine left you. you’re a fucking asshole, and no one will ever love you.” he had turned, but you had already left before he could yell anymore.

you knew you shouldn’t have slept with your boss. clearly, as you sat at home instead of scrubbing in on a surgery, that it wasn’t working out well.

you had left the hospital after your little outburst with stephen. your pager kept going off, but you had ignored it since they were all from, unsurprisingly, stephen. you tossed and turned in your bed, not having the energy to do anything else.

he had ruined you. he had ruined you from the moment you had entered the program.

but yesterday, he had really ruined you. he ruined whatever perfect balance the two of you had. you knew him, and he knew you, but now you were too involved, too emotionally attached.

you couldn’t even curb your jealously. it wasn’t about your abilities or her abilities, it was the fact that he wanted his ex-girlfriend to scrub in with him, and not you.

stephen stared at the wall. he had been staring at it since you left. assumingely, you had gone home. all of his pages went unanswered, and he knew that he had really, really fucked up.

there was a knock at the door and stephen turned, “come in.” he had hoped it was you, but he never had to welcome you in. you’d always just waltz in, carrying food and random case notes.

“i’ve been looking for your resident all day. i heard she’s the expert on the case?” dr. palmer had graced his office for the first time in a long time. stephen didn’t have the best poker face when it came to surprises, and he couldn’t hide this one.

“uh-“ he laughed slightly, blinking as he focused on her, “yeah she wasn’t feeling well today. she might’ve gone home but the case is at the nurses station.” he didn’t smile, he never did at her anymore.

christine nodded, “hey, stephen.. why did you ask me to scrub in with you? if you already have a perfectly capable resident-“

stephen shook his head, “i- i just wanted you there. i don’t know why- but,” he shrugged, “i cant trust residents, can i?”

christine laughed awkwardly, her attempt at trying to get out of this was already shot to the ground, so she just exited.

you wanted to quit. you had spent all night practicing how you’d do it. you were going to go to his office, set the resignation letter down on his desk and walk out without saying anything.

but you couldn’t even gather the courage to print your letter out. you had left the paper jammed in your printer, half inked, as you left to go to work.

“good morning.” stephen greeted you at the nurses station. it was time for the early mornings rounds. you nodded, but didn’t say anything as you walked off.

stephen chose to ignore the fact that you ignored him, and walked after you, “i am going to need any and all case notes on that patient today.”

you scoffed, “why? you never read any of my notes.” which was true. he always thought your notes were just annoying little scribbles.

“they’re for dr. palmer. she requested that she get any notes relevant to the surgery today.” he responded.

“oh, okay. i’ll drop it off at your office along with all the respect i have for you.” and you turned a corner, leaving him in the dust for rounds.

you were sitting in the cafeteria, head in your hands over your tray of food, you hadn’t even noticed the people gathering around your table.

“dude- long time no see.” you looked up to see one of your old friends that you had met during your internship, thalia. before all of this, before him.

you smiled, a real one in a long time, “we’re residents. we’re lucky if we even have clean underwear.” you joked. she smiled, “i heard you’ve been working closely with dr. strange. how is it? he’s got the hands of a god, you know.”

you blinked, almost happy to be able to get through a conversation that wasn’t plagued by stephen strange.

you blinked, hesitating with your words until it all came spilling out. “we slept together. multiple times.”

thalia’s jaw fell, practically hit the floor as she stared at you in disbelief.

“and we’re fighting right now so i’d really love it if we could just move on-“

“dr. l/n.” you turned at the sound of that voice, abruptly ending your conversation with your friend, you couldn’t hide the shock on your face to see stephen standing in front of you.

he never came to the cafeteria. he was always too good for it, and it was evident that even just his presence was shocking enough. all other conversations seemed to quiet down to complete silence.

“stephen-“

“you’re scrubbing in. dr. palmer has another surgery that will run late so-“

you nodded, “understood.”

your unwillingness to say anything more was evident, and stephen would not open that can of shit right in the middle of the cafeteria for all the underachievers to hear.

he nodded, leaving as quickly as he came.

you stared at his hands moving gracefully in the patient. he was a god, it was clear in his work, that’s why he was the way he was.

“suction.” you immediately brought down the tube in your hands, sucking at whatever he pointed at.

his glove caught on the tube, the air trying to suck up his finger. he pulled back, just as you pulled the tube away.

“oh my go-“ you stared at the tube, and turned back to stephen. he raised his eyebrows just as you dipped your head back to laugh.

stephen looked around at the rest of the staff but didn’t say anything as you finished laughing by yourself.

you let out a sigh, your laugh turned into a quiet chuckle, even as you met his eyes, you still couldn’t stifle it.

“i’m sorry.” you apologized, “that was unprofessional and it won’t happen again.” you blinked, head bowed as you waited.

but stephen didn’t say anything, he looked up to stare at you once before going back to work.

stephen asked you to meet him in his office after the surgery. you had to practically throw yourself up each step to get to his office, exhaustion weighing heavy on your bones.

you didn’t even bother to knock this time, you just pushed the door open and dragged yourself in. stephen was sitting at his desk, but he had the case files in his hands.

he looked up once he saw you, and you took a seat across his desk. “you wanted to see me?”

stephen nodded, throwing down the case files, “this is good stuff.”

you blinked. hardly did stephen ever freely give compliments. you had thought you were the worst resident until he had called you “okay” once during an assistive surgery. another surgeon had said that meant you were good.

clearly stephen knew what you were thinking, and he grimaced, “christine suggested i read them.” you hummed in acknowledgment, “and she also told me to apologize.”

you looked at him expectantly, eyebrows raised.

“i am sorry for not calling you, or texting you after..” he mumbled off, “and im sorry for kicking you out of my office, it was rude and i am so-“ he faltered and you sighed, standing up.

he watched as you strode over to his side of the desk, hips swaying in your tight scrub pants. your hand gripped the leather of his desk chair, pulling it back as you positioned yourself on his lap.

stephen watched you carefully, watched as you dragged a finger across his cheek, smiling coyly, “i accept your apology, stephen.” you hummed again, “and i am sorry for what i said.”

stephen held your hips, his large hands tightening around them so you wouldn’t fall. “it’s okay. it’s okay.” he assured you, hands moving to caress your neck, he planted a kiss on your collarbone, just underneath your scrub top.

you shivered at the contact, but you were eager for more. stephen was hardly affectionate, especially at work. it made you wonder how it all even happened in the first place, as he was always so clipped with you.

stephen kissed your neck, sucking hard on the skin that you were sure they’d bruise.

“come away with me.” he whispered, “put on a slutty little dress and come away with me tonight.” he gripped hard on your hips, and you laughed, “what? where?” you were surprised he hadn’t mentioned anything about a trip to you.

“i was nominated for an award in california. the ceremony is tonight and i was hoping that you would accompany me.” he didn’t smile, but there was a hint of one.

“publicly?” you drew your brows together, hand on his shoulder as you looked into his eyes.

“well- people would only assume that we work together. but yes, publicly.” he nodded, and you felt your stomach drop to your ass.

“uh-“ you scoffed, “yeah. sure, i’ll go.” you couldn’t hide your hesitation. the last person that stephen ‘worked’ with was christine, and people would notice.

stephen nodded, “okay. i’ll see you tonight, kid.” his lips brushed past yours as he planted a kiss on your cheek. “tease.” you commented, gripping his shoulder as you hopped off his lap.

“i’m the tease?” he grabbed your wrist and you looked at the tent in his pants. a laugh escaped you, even as you strutted out of his office.

waiting was unbearable. you found yourself glancing over to the clock hoping hours would roll by until it finally did, and you were gathering your things to head home and prepare.

stephen said that he had arranged a private flight to california, and that he and a driver would be at your apartment by 8.

“are you out of here?” thalia, standing at the end of the hallway, broke you out of your thoughts, “i heard you’re going with strange to that ceremony?” you nodded, as you met her at the end, you couldn’t hide your smile.

she nudged you, smiling, “aw im so happy for you. especially after we all thought dr. palmer would go with him.”

your smile fell immediately and you stepped back, “what? why would you think that?”

thalia shrugged, “because he asked her. i heard them in the attendings lounge, when i had gone to find my-“ she continued to ramble on but you had stopped listening. you walked past her and slammed the double doors open. she called your name, but you were already in the wind.

all you could do was practically run out of the hospital, dashing past the front desk and out the doors. you panted, feeling the ache of a sob in your chest. you walked now, breaking down in tears on the way to your car.

how could he have asked her, before he asked you?

you realized you couldn’t go home now. stephen would be there soon to pick you up, to take you to an event that you weren’t supposed to be at.

stephen paced the apartment lobby. your doorman said that he hadn’t seen you since the previous morning. your car hadn’t been parked in its designated spot either, evident of your absence.

“fuck..” stephen muttered, his fingers breezing on the screen as he tried to call you. thing was, you always called him, never the other way around so he couldn’t remember the numbers to even dial.

he scrolled through his call list but it was a sea of unknown numbers, and stephen didn’t remember the last time you called.

stephen walked back up to the doorman, “can i go look in her apartment?” the doorman raised his eyebrows and stephen sighed, “i’m her bo-“ he paused, unsure of what to call himself, he grimaced, “i am her colleague. i just-“

the doorman nodded, there was a look on his face as he looked at stephen up and down, “yeah..i know who you are.” as he spoke stephen realized that it was disdain that this doorman held for him.

but as the doorman let stephen up, he didn’t even care how you talked about him, it was that you talked about him at all.

the apartment was messy. of course it was. you were a fifth year resident who clocked in more hours at the hospital than all the combined time spent at home. but it wasn’t dirty messy, it was a barely moved in, hadn’t had time to unpack messy. the stack of broken down boxes in the corner was evident. he pursed his lips at the sight, but continued in.

your bedroom was close, he could see the edge of a mattress through a cracked door. it was barren, besides the bed and dresser, it was filled with packing peanuts and a box of hospital scrubs. he hummed, stepping out and deciding to check out the next room.

he pushed the door open, revealing a very organized office space. there was a long desk along the wall, a chalk board took up the entirety of another wall, medical scrawl was all over it. pictures of anatomy were hung up, including unknown jars of specimen.

stephen was more than intrigued, he was impressed. the rest of your apartment was messy, barely lived in, but your work was your life, and your office was clear of that.

he trailed towards the desk, a dim light shone from your desktop, and he nudged the computer mouse to turn it on.

dear stephen,

i am writing to formally tender my resignation as a fifth year resident under your tutelage…

there was a mix of worry in his mind that he hadn’t felt in a long time. the rest of the letter was just professional bullshit on your decision to leave him. you weren’t leaving the hospital, you were leaving him.

but he had to get the truth.

it had been hours since the award ceremony. hours since it would’ve started at least, looking at the clock, you knew that it was time to return home.

stephen probably didn’t even make it to your house, since you hadn’t received a single call. the area you had gone to, outside of the city, still got decent cell service, so you knew he didn’t even try.

you no longer felt the rage of being overlooked in your career and in your relationship, all you felt was the regret of believing him. you tightly gripped your steering wheel, and silently drove back home.

stephen waited silently. he had looked through your pantry, trying to find something to snack on until your arrival; he knew he’d be there all night.

but didn’t take anything, deciding that he wasn’t even hungry, just restless and angry, and as soon as he heard keys jingle at the door, he stood up.

“stephen.” you were breathless, your hand was clutching hard on your doorknob as your bag hit the floor. it landed upright, but you pushed it to the side with your foot. stephen didn’t move, watching as you cautiously stepped forward.

“what- what are you doing here?” you swallowed thickly, hands feeling clammy against the rough fabric of your hospital scrubs. you looked at him up and down, eyes lingering on his sharp suit, hands positioned at his side. “i’ve been waiting for you.”

you nodded, “i’m sorry if you missed the award-“ you felt your voice shake, afraid of how this confrontation would proceed. you kept your eyes glued to the floor, afraid to look again into his striking face.

“you think this is about that?” he scoffed incredulously, his eyes narrowing at you. you could just feel the edge in his voice, it was the same edge that had haunted you nearly all of your residency.

he took your silence for shame, and continued, “i found your letter. when were you planning to hand it in? hmm? after you assisted on a major surgery or after i was presented with an award with you by my side-“ it was your turn to scoff. you looked up, walking towards him at a speed that had you now nose to nose.

“you think that i’m proud of being second choice?” your voice broke, and you sighed, knowing just exactly how this would end. stephen’s face fell, and he looked speechless at your emotion.

you inhaled a breath, trying to calm yourself down as you fought to say your piece. “i- i had to hear from thalia, of all people, that you had originally asked christine to be your date tonight.” you felt a tear fall down your cheek, “you come in here, into my apartment, look through my things and accuse me of what? riding your success?” you spat, your voice still wavered, but you carried on, “i’ve had to be second to the greatest love of your life. and i will not continue to be.” you sniffled, looking at stephen right in the eye, “i quit. i don’t ever want to see you or that fucking hospital again.”

stephen was absolutely wordless. he didn’t even know what to do with it, and as he watched you strut down the hallway to your bedroom, he found himself following you.

you sniffled, and noticed he was right on your trail, “get out, stephen. get-“

he stayed firmly planted, and instead raised his eyebrows, “christine is not the greatest love of my life- i thought she was.” you rolled your eyes, not wanting to hear his speech, “until i met you. and i’ve been selfish. i’ve been keeping you from your potential. so you should quit, be a better surgeon under someone who-“ he faltered, and his features softened, “who doesn’t love you.”

you felt your face get hot as you tried to speak. stephen strange just told you he loved you…

“it’s okay.” he stepped forward and you found yourself stepping into his embrace. he kissed your forehead, “it’s okay.” he repeated, assuring that it in fact, was okay.

as bittersweet the moment was, you had to release all of the truth, even if you knew it would only hurt him more.

“i love you, too.” you whispered, hands gathering up his suit fabric, gripping it tightly you didn’t want to let go. but he didn’t say anything, the two of you continued to hug until you practically fell asleep in his arms.

[daydreamtofiction]

Malicious Compliance // Surgeon Strange x Reader

Masterlist | Request a Fic

Summary: After a brief meeting with the world renowned neurosurgeon Doctor Stephen Strange, he plans to make you his latest conquest. He’s only interested in one thing, but that’s okay, because so are you. (female reader)

Word Count: 4.6K

Warnings: Strong language, explicit sexual content, pre-sorcerer Strange (arrogant, cocky). Smut: no strings attached, dominance & praise, oral sex (receiving), light choking, unprotected sex (sort of?). Readers must be 18+

A/N: Just a quick lil oneshot for you all. I literally thought of this today and the whole thing poured out of me in one sitting lmao. I like it though, hope you guys do too!

His eyes are glaciers. Cold, hard, yet always moving. They flit towards the window, sunlight turning them the crispest blue, then back down to the notebook on the table in front of him. They warm slightly when he looks over to Doctor Palmer, roll languidly whenever Doctor West speaks. But in the end, they always seem to settle back on you.

He’s as hubristic as you’d expected; leant back in his chair, elbows on the armrests, taking up as much space as his body will allow. He corrects a colleague when they call him Stephen. It’s Doctor Strange, he says, voice so deep and rich it’s almost tangible. 

He watches as you press your finger to the inner corner of your eye, trying to rub away the tired itch beginning to take root there. You wonder how offended he’d be if he knew you fell asleep reading one of his published papers last night, how you woke up in your hotel room this morning with your cheek pressed to page seventeen of The Strange Palmer Method. It would make his blood boil, you think, to know his work had been used as a pillow. You resist the urge to tell him. 

Coffee burns the roof of your mouth. You wince and place the cup back down on the boardroom table, sift through the pile of papers in front of you as the room waits for you to speak again.

“Honey,” says Doctor Strange. 

“I’m sorry?” you reply. 

He points to your mouth. “It’ll help with that burn.” 

You stare at him for a moment before shaking your head. “Oh I didn’t- It was just a little warmer than I expected. Thanks, though.” 

The corner of his mouth curls and he turns to look down the length of the table, the flecks of silver at his temple catching in the light.

You clear your throat as you find the document you were looking for. “So, pending approval from the ABMS, we would like to roll out training for the Strange Palmer Method in all of our hospitals.”

“What about my new technique for stent placement?” asks Doctor West. 

“Oh please, Nic,” Strange scoffs. “We’re talking about actual revolutionary surgical procedures here.” 

Doctor West’s back straightens, you open your mouth to speak but he gets there first.

“Excuse me, my stent technique could drastically cut down the amount of time a patient’s brain is open on the table! Do you even realise-” 

“Mhm, why don’t you go win some awards and make national news, then maybe we can talk.” 

Doctor Palmer’s head falls into her hands as the other surgeons groan and shift uncomfortably in their seats. You’ve met your fair share of asshole surgeons in this job; travelling up and down the country stroking egos and exalting god complexes. But this man sitting across from you is, without a doubt, the victor of them all. 

“The stent technique is very interesting,” you say, easing the tension in the room. “But we would need to see the results of a study or trial of some kind before taking it any further.” 

“Very diplomatic of you,” says Strange. 

“Not diplomatic. I just know a promising procedure when I see it.”

“Hm. Are you a doctor?”

Your gaze turns to a glare. “I am.” 

“Where do you practice?”

“I don’t anymore. My job is to keep other doctors at the top of their game. Hence why I’m here right now with all of you.”

He’s almost smirking, head cocked slightly, twiddling a pen between his fingers. It’s fitting, you think, to see a surgeon take such pleasure in getting under people’s skin. 

You hate that you find him attractive. That you’ve managed to fall victim to a charm buried so deep beneath layers of pure arrogance that you have to dig to find it. If he wasn’t so beautiful on the outside, you’re almost certain you wouldn’t bother fighting to find something redeemable within. But the way your body reacts to him; the warmth, the buzzing deep in your belly, it must be there. 

The meeting finishes and you remain at the table, straightening the wad of papers in front of you and slotting them back into your binder as everyone filters out of the room. When you’re alone, you stand and walk to the large window, taking a moment to gaze out at the view. Your eyes skim New York City, admiring the blend of old and new; small stone buildings wedged between tall skyscrapers, the late afternoon sun glinting across metal and glass, pockets of green peppered amongst brick and mortar. You wish you got to come here more often. 

You pick up your briefcase and drape your jacket over your arm as you make your way out of the boardroom. The corridor is bright and quiet, but the bustling of the hospital is a low hum. You close the door behind you and begin to walk, unfazed by the sight of a figure leaning against the wall up ahead. 

His arms are folded over his broad chest, dark blue scrubs doing little for his tall, robust frame. His legs are crossed at the ankles as he rests his weight back against the wall, head stooped slightly, but his eyes are on you. 

“Doctor Strange,” you say with a polite nod as you continue past him.

He smiles, allows you to pass, but you feel him move behind you. 

“You don’t really think Doctor West’s procedure holds any merit?” he asks, catching up to walk at your side. 

“I do.” You furrow your brow. “You don’t think there’s merit in improving the efficiency of existing surgeries?” 

He shrugs. “Just not all that exciting when you compare it to what I’m doing.” 

“You mean what you and Doctor Palmer are doing…” 

There’s a chuckle deep in his throat, like he enjoys the back and forth, watching his opponents fight for their lives while to him it’s just a sparring match. He quickens his pace to slip in front of you, turning to face you and forcing you to halt in the middle of the corridor. 

“Be honest,” he says. “You’re impressed.” 

“Of course we’re impressed. Why else would the board have sent me here?” 

“No I mean you, specifically.” 

You glare up at him, hiding your amusement with an eye roll. “Yes, Doctor,” you say slowly, your words empty and biting. “I am very impressed.” 

His cupid’s bow deepens as his lips curve into a self satisfied smile, lines forming in his cheeks and the corners of his eyes. He knows you find him infuriating, but it only seems to encourage him. There’s a moment of silence, long enough for his gaze to trail the length of you, just once. 

“You know, I’d love to talk more with you about it,” he says, looking down at his obviously expensive watch. “Maybe over dinner. Have you eaten?” 

You draw in a deep breath through your nose, letting it out in a sigh as you begin to speak. “I don’t need your superficial attempts to woo me, Doctor.” You reach into your briefcase and pull out a pen and a business card, scrawling on the back of it and handing it to him. “This is where I’m staying. Come by around eight.” 

You’re certain he’s going to protest, pretend he actually wants to go to dinner, talk, that he was ever interested in anything that didn’t involve the removal of your clothes. You wait in suspense as his eyes flit down to the card in his hand, then back up to your face.

“I prefer to fuck in my own bed,” he says bluntly. 

A wave crashes in your stomach, rushing down into your core, the sensation so strong and unexpected that your knees almost buckle. This isn’t the first time one of your work trips has ended in you going home with a surgeon, but the way this one doesn’t try to feign the ‘nice guy’, doesn’t pretend to want anything more from you than your body, that’s new.  

“Unless I’m on vacation, of course,” he adds with a cocky smile. 

“Of course…” 

He flips the card over and plucks the pen from your hand. You watch as he scribbles on it and hands it back to you. 

“So this is where I’ll be tonight,” he says. “You said eight works for you?”  

You press your tongue to the inside of your cheek, unsure if you’ve ever met anyone as imperious as this. You slip the card into your pocket and move to walk past him, stopping as your shoulders brush and looking up at him. 

“I hope your dick is as inflated as your ego.”

He smirks to himself, remaining quiet as you continue to walk away. 

Your skirt is riding up your backside. You reach back to yank it down for the hundredth time before pressing the buzzer on the wall of the apartment building. The setting sun is just a glow beneath the horizon but the streets are still busy, the air warm with a pleasant breeze. You lean back to stare up at the building, the mirrored windows stretching so high you can’t see an end to them. You wonder which one is his. 

There’s a scratching sound on the intercom, followed by a deep voice. “Yeah?” 

“It’s me,” you say, glancing over your shoulders as if you’re on some kind of secret mission, scared of being seen. 

He doesn’t speak again, instead there’s a quick buzz followed by the click of the heavy front door. You let yourself inside, heels clacking against the glossy marble floor as you hurry towards the elevators. When the doors slide open, you pull out your business card, punch in the floor number he’d scrawled in the bottom corner. It begins to ascend, making your already swirling stomach turn. 

You pull down the back of your skirt again as you step out into the hall, peering down the length of it in search of his apartment. The door is tall and wide, dark timber and a heavy metallic handle. You knock but your knuckles barely make a sound, the dense wood swallowing the echo. 

Still, he comes. You regard him quietly as you step inside, the snug sweater and tailored jeans, a pair of sneakers making you feel entirely overdressed. He’s already grinning; a smug, confident smile that reignites the ire in your chest. You ignore him and walk further in, eyes wide in awe at the vast, industrial space.

You walk over to the window that stretches the length of the apartment, floor to ceiling, wall to wall, framing a perfect snapshot of the city. 

“Now I understand why you make the women come to you,” you say. 

“Hm?” 

“This place. It’s impressive.” You glance over your shoulder at him. “That’s the point, right? You like to impress. To show off.”  

He laughs quietly and makes his way to the kitchen area, opening the extensive liquor cabinet. “You want something to drink?” 

“I have rules,” you say abruptly, turning around to face him from across the echoey room.

He straightens. “Go on…” 

“Nothing that happens here can be used for any type of professional leverage, good or bad, by either of us.” 

“Of course-”

“This isn’t a date. I don’t spend the night, I don’t keep in touch, I don’t call when I’m back in town so we can do this again. This is just tonight. And it’s just sex. Understood?” 

“Understood.” He returns to the cabinet and takes out a bottle. “So, about that drink…”

You’re already gone, wandering off through a door at the rear of the apartment in search of the bedroom. 

You find it. It’s a dark, cave-like space, large curtains draped across another huge window, only the faintest glow of the sunset fighting through the fabric. It’s clinical, just as you’d expect from a surgeon; sleek furniture void of any clutter or knick knacks, exposed brick walls with the occasional piece of art - no photographs. There’s a full length mirror, a small couch, and a bed so large you could sink into it and disappear. You wonder just how many women have delved beneath those sheets before you. 

He appears in the doorway, looking you up and down. “You’re eager, little one,” he teases.

You roll your eyes, watching as he closes the door behind him and approaches you. You reach up to touch him, to kiss him, but instead he takes your wrists in his hands and lowers them back to your sides. 

“Mm, not yet.” 

You scoff in dispute, eyes following him as he strolls across the room and switches on the wall sconces, illuminating the area above the bed in a dim, warm light. 

“Look,” you say. “If you’re just going to mess with me then-”

“Well actually, after you left the hospital this afternoon, I got called to consult on a patient and ended up having to stay late. I just got home around fifteen minutes before you knocked on my door. So if you don’t mind, I would like to take a shower first. Is that alright with you?” he finishes sarcastically. 

You settle down, composing yourself and relaxing your shoulders. “Of course.” 

“Make yourself comfortable.” 

He pushes open a door to the right and you catch a glimpse of the luxurious, marbled master bathroom as he steps inside. The door closes behind him, leaving you alone again. You stand there for a moment, listening to him whistling to himself, his belt buckle unfastening and hitting the floor. Water bursts from the shower, the sound like soft static, and you immediately rush over to the mirror. 

You examine yourself carefully; fix your hair, press your nose to your skin and clothes, shift your underwear so it sits smoothly and undetectable beneath your skirt. Then you sit down at the foot of the bed, knee bouncing impatiently. You change your mind shortly after, moving to the small couch opposite the bed instead. 

Ten minutes or so pass, but it feels like an eternity. You picture him drawing it out on purpose, working the lather into his skin one section at a time, scrubbing at his hair for much longer than necessary, just to make you sweat. The water shuts off and you listen to him singing to himself, the hum of his voice through the door. When the door finally opens, steam escapes into the bedroom, the rich smell of citrus and cedar filling the air as he walks out, still humming quietly. 

You glance over at him, mouth falling open slightly to find him completely naked, your gaze falling immediately to the pronounced length hanging from his body as he pads across the room. You look away quickly, rolling your eyes and huffing with indignation. Of course he’s naked, you think, he likes to spar, and you’ve willingly stepped into the ring.

Droplets sit on his shoulders and roll down his torso as he moves around the bed. He climbs on and lays down right in the middle, hands resting behind his head, propped up slightly on the headboard. His hair is still damp, half-coiffed, the grey at his temples darker than it was before. His body is solid, the mystery beneath the scrubs now revealed to you in all its glory. His arms are thick as they flex either side of his head, divots of muscle creating shadows across his torso, cock resting proudly on his thigh as he parts his legs in wait. He’s exquisite, and you can’t help but bask in the sight. 

“So,” he says casually. “Are you just going to stay over there looking at me? Or are you going to come and sit on my face?” 

You glare at him, unamused. 

“What?” he shrugs gently. “You’re the one that said this was strictly sex. Forgive me for abiding by your rules.” 

“There’s a word for that, you know,” you reply. “Malicious compliance.”

“Mm, is it really malicious if I’m offering to eat you out?”

“Depends how good you are at it.” 

“Come here and find out.”  There’s no humour in his tone, but it’s still playful, like he’s goading you. 

You stand up and take a step towards the bed. 

“Clothes,” he demands. 

You stop, pressing your lips together tightly. His eyes never leave you, remaining locked on yours as you kick off your shoes and untuck your top from the waistband of your skirt. 

“They should study you,” you say. 

“Study me?” 

“Yeah.” You lift your top over your head and throw it to the floor, reaching down to unzip your skirt. “Look into how one singular person could possibly be such an ass.” 

“Clearly there’s a part of you that likes it, y’know, since you’re here… taking your clothes off for me.”

“What can I say? I’m partial to a surgeon. Think it’s the hands.” 

The skirt pools at your feet and you step out of it, extending your arms as if to say ‘ta da’. He smiles. 

No one has ever looked at you like this. So intense, like he’s studying every inch; relishing in every freckle and blemish, every curve and crease, mapping out the places he plans to touch, taste, explore. 

You continue towards him but he raises his palm, halting you again. “You haven’t finished,” he says. 

You glance down at yourself, then back up to him, letting out a grumbling sigh as you reach behind you to unclasp your bra. It pops open, the release of pressure on your skin as soothing as a deep breath. His gaze darkens as you slide the straps off your shoulders, watching your nipples harden as you reveal your bare breasts to him. 

“These too?” you ask, hooking your thumbs into the waistline of your underwear. 

“Mhm.” 

You take them off as gracefully as you can, shimmying them over your hips and thighs and kicking them away. His cock is hardening, swelling and rising towards his stomach. Your mouth twitches with a triumphant smile, but you suppress it as you climb onto the bed, crawling up to meet him. 

You lean down and press your lips to his, feeling your skin prick, arousal kindling in your core. His mouth is smart, but it’s also divine. The feeling intensifies, spreading through your belly and pounding between your legs as you sweep your tongue into his open mouth, feel his restraint wavering as your hot breaths mingle. You let your chest press against his, the feeling of skin on skin making you burn with need. 

You bring a hand up to his face, he brings his to your throat, bracketing it gently and peeling his mouth from yours. 

“I didn’t tell you to kiss me,” he says quietly. “I told you to sit on my face.” 

You pull back a little more, making eye contact, breathless as a million comebacks shutter through your mind. But in the end you say nothing, letting out a soft huff and slowly shifting your body up the bed.

You hold the top of the extravagant headboard with both hands and swing one leg over him, straddling his shoulders as his fingers reach up behind you to the small of your back. His touch is electric, lips searing as they plant a kiss on your inner thigh. A soft whimper escapes you in a breath, as though anticipation is its own foreplay. 

He wraps his arms around the backs of your thighs and pulls you down onto his mouth. Your grip tightens on the headboard, fingernails digging into the soft, cushiony fabric as he parts his lips against your centre, sucking softly on your already throbbing clit. Your head falls back when his tongue drags up the length of your slit, moulding itself to every pucker and groove, lapping you up like he adores you, and you wonder how many women have fallen for him in these moments. 

You groan quietly, closing your eyes as you focus on the flicks and strokes of his tongue, the sucking and swirling, the hums deep in his throat and he devours you. Your clit is sensitive, making you shudder, the pleasure so intense you can barely stand it. Your body raises up instinctively, but he tightens his hold on you, spitting on your clit and returning his mouth to the place that both aches and sings, somehow at the same time. 

You gasp in response, eyelids fluttering as you swear under your breath. He releases one of your thighs and you glance over your shoulder to see his hand wrapping around his cock. He begins to stroke it forcefully, working himself to the rhythm of his mouth, and you almost fall to pieces. 

“Oh my god,” you moan, slumping forward and pressing your forehead to the headboard. 

Your thighs clamp around his head, but it only spurs him on, making him bury his face deeper, and you can’t remember the last time he came up for air.

“I can’t,” you whisper. 

The nerves in your clit are screaming, dancing on the precipice between pain and pleasure. He continues to lap at your centre, pushing you to the edge until you’re clinging on for dear life. Pressure swells in your core, flooding you with a tingling heat that softens your bones and turns you to liquid. Until finally you’re there, falling, melting. 

He growls as your body begins to shake, working his tongue over you one last time before releasing you from his grasp. You collapse next to him, sliding down the pillows until you’re lying at his side. You’re breathless, chest rising and falling heavily as you stare up at the ceiling. 

He rolls onto his side to face you. “You’re quiet when you come,” he says, placing a kiss into the crook of your neck, another at the dip of your collarbone.  

“I’ve spent the past two years practically living in hotel rooms,” you reply. “I’ve learned to be inconspicuous.” 

“Hm.” He props himself up on his forearm and leans over you, his other hand trailing softly down the side of your body. “Let’s see if we can do something about that.” 

Before you can reply, he’s kissing you. His mouth is slick, it tastes of you. Your body is spent, limbs heavy, yet still you find it responding to his touch. He shifts further onto you, spreading your legs with his hands and settling himself between them. You can feel his cock nudging your centre as he rocks his hips, sliding along the soaking wet mess he left there and brushing his head over your clit. It’s sensitive, raw, makes you gasp. But he swallows the sound with a heady kiss.

He’s big. Thick. Hard. Maybe that’s where he stores his arrogance. He continues to tease you, soaking himself in the mix of spit and slick as he wraps his hands around your neck, kisses you so deeply you can feel him drawing a moan from your throat.

He pulls away and looks down at you for a moment. “Condom?” he asks casually.

You’re on the pill. Have been since you were seventeen. But still, you know you should say yes. Yesterday, this man was a stranger; a face you only knew from TV and the medical articles you’d read.

“No.” You shake your head and reach down, gripping his cock and directing it into you.

He chuckles, the sound deep and low. “What a good girl.” 

You sigh as he teases at your entrance, pushing the head of his cock in and out but never breaking all the way through. 

“Were you thinking about this today in the meeting?” he taunts softly. 

You groan and buck your hips, desperate for him to take you. 

He eases back slightly and tuts. “I saw you squirming in your seat. How hot and flustered you got when I looked at you. Tell me how much you wanted this.” 

“What I wanted,” you begin quietly. “Was to wring your neck.” 

The corner of his mouth curls into a smirk. “Really…” 

“Really.” 

He squeezes his fingers gently around your throat and you exhale softly. The desire is almost painful, your core throbbing, pussy aching. 

“Funny how things work out,” he says. 

You let out a stifled moan as he sinks into you, filling you so completely you’re certain you can’t take it.

“That’s it,” he mutters as he looks down, watching his cock disappear all the way to the hilt. 

You whimper and tighten around him. He sucks the air in through his teeth, returning his gaze to your eyes with a mischievous smile. 

“I’m gonna need you to not do that,” he says. “You’ll have me finishing in seconds.” 

“Are you telling me the great Doctor Stephen Strange lacks self discipline?” You contract your walls again, this time on purpose.

He bows, forehead resting on your chest, and growls deep in the back of his throat. Then suddenly, without warning, he draws his hips back and buries himself in you again. You gasp, fingers digging into the blades of his shoulders as he repeats his thrusts, building to a firm, steady rhythm. 

A small cry escapes you; a sound you’ve never heard yourself make before. He hums in response, keeping you pinned to the bed with his hands around your neck as he snaps his hips, punishing you from the inside out. 

“Wrap those legs around my back,” he demands. 

You do as you’re told, locking your ankles and gasping as he sinks further, the head of his cock kissing the deepest parts of you and sending jolts of pure electricity through your stomach. 

“You’re going to break me,” you whisper.

“Not this time. Maybe later,” he replies, still so arrogant it makes you want to reach up and slap him. 

But your hands are stuck to his back, nails digging into the smooth, taut flesh. Another unfamiliar sound falls from your lips, somewhere between a grunt and a hum. He likes it, you can tell in the way he closes his eyes to compose himself.

“Jesus,” he hisses.

His movements begin to stutter and he rests his forehead against yours. You feel his cock throbbing, your pussy growing wetter until it’s dripping. He lets out a long, satisfied groan and begins to slow down, every rock of his hips like the promise of another climax. 

“Don’t stop,” you whisper desperately. “Please don’t stop, I’m so close.”

He doesn’t open his eyes, but still he obliges; continuing to stroke into you as you squirm beneath him.

“Oh god,” you groan. “Harder. I need- harder.” 

He grunts, screwing his eyes shut tightly, and begins pounding his cock into you with such force you can feel your body shifting up the mattress. You know he already came, you know how sensitive he must be. But somehow, knowing that makes this all the more delicious.

The electricity builds again, every thrust like a lightning strike through your core. Your legs begin to shake and you finally let go, giving in to the current and letting it course through you. Your orgasm is intense, sharp and tingly, making you shudder, body stiffening until it passes. 

He slows to a stop, resting his full weight on top of you. You welcome the pressure, like a weighted blanket; warm and grounding, soothing the ache beginning to settle in your limbs. 

After a few moments, he slides out of you carefully, rolling over to lie at your side. “You want that drink now?” he asks. 

Hair sticks to your forehead with sweat, you brush it back, sucking in deep breaths as you stare up at the ceiling. “No, I’m good.” 

Silence envelops you, neither one of you speaking again until your hearts stop thumping. 

“So… I guess this means you’re going to approve the training for my method,” he says. 

You turn your head, glaring at him in stunned silence. 

“I’m kidding,” he says with a smile, greatly amusing himself. 

“God, surgeons are assholes,” you mutter.