#dr strange x reader

[babymangosworld]

When you're reading a smut and suddenly *character* spits in y/n's mouth

[bunnytongues]

MGGHHGGGHGHHHHHH DOCTOR😩

(Please I need him so bad I literally let him hump my ass for free in pregame lobbies while wearing my malice skin <//3 )

[vinamari]

How it feels going to bed after reading some words

It was angst

[gfmaximoff]

America: ARE YOU-

Wong: Fucking.

America: KIDDING ME YOU-

Wong: Fucking.

America: IDIOT?!?

Wanda: …What is going on?

Wong: Stephen banned America from swearing so I’m helping her out.

[achrams]

𝐈𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Dr.Strange's cloak starts acting odd after he comes back from a long mission.

𝐂𝐰: Bondage, getting caught?, protected sex.

What began as a self proclaimed mage meets an actual qualified sorcerer ended up in a tender relationship. To most people’s surprise probably. Sure, most of your time together consisted of one practice session after another but there were moments for tender affection too..er well somewhat. Because as of right now, the last time you two had genuine contact was about 4 months, 2 weeks, 4 days, 7 hours and 12 minutes ago. Oddly specific, right? It wasn’t like someone was keeping track of it, oh totally not.

Ever since the beginning of that timer the both of you have been rather busy with work. While Dr. Strange was dealing with world class missions with some collective he'd been hesitant to work with, his own words ask him, while you were gaining magic experience little by little. Mostly boring paperwork and some acts here and there. On the off chance you actually got to put your powers to the test, you did not hold back for a moment. Gauging your own success and celebrating it all the same. It was your time to shine, your time to show people you could be trusted with future issues. So far you had a clear record, not a single thing had gone wrong on your little pieces of work.

---

Currently sitting in Sanctum Sanctorum, you sighed in relief when another paper on the neighbourhood issues had finally been finished. Setting your pens down, you turned around to look at the view outside, nearly night time already. How many hours have you done this again? Three? Seven? Turns out the ‘one more report’ turned into another and another until a pile formed. Who would have thought you'd get fixated on paperwork instead of gaming videos.

Just when you were about to leave for your nightly routine before bed, a sudden portal popped up and in walked the one and only. “Haven’t seen you in a while.” You smiled softly, not mad, not disappointed. Just glad that your Stephen was safe and sound, after all getting together with a hero had its own fair share of rules as well as difficulties in the distance department. Though, after such a long time this had become the norm. At least now things could go normal, as normal as they could anyways.

“It's not been that long.” He said, the usual tinge of sass in his dialogue yet despite his words he still walked over to you like a tired pup after playtime. Hands falling around your middle while his forehead met your shoulder with a sigh. It was his silent way of asking for a bit of affection, backpedalling on his words without having said anything. A silent language only you knew. To which you just sighed and pulled him closer and prepared to press a kiss to his forehead before a sudden force yanked you two apart.

Raising an eyebrow you questioned, “Uh, is everything alright?” Expecting a clear answer turned out to be impossible since Stephen was just as perplexed as you were. “Mostly.” He said, suspicious but not wanting to put any ideas out there just yet. Finding the game of letting you figure it out rather fun. Needing more concrete proof of his ‘theories’ before he'd take action. “Alright. Well, do what you need to, I'll be going to bed. Goodnight hun.” A simple goodbye for the night since the two of you had different sleep routines.

The next morning, however, when you had expected to have a warm morning with Stephen, after a long time apart, it was cut off by a disturbance again. Having walked to the kitchen, the hot coffee poured into two mugs by Stephen as you wrapped your arms around his middle. Face buried into his neck while you sighed in relaxation. You didn’t have the time to press a kiss to Stephen's neck before a shattering sound came from the room over. Rushing in came the infamous cloak. Latching itself against Stephen before pulling him out the room. “Huh..?” You muttered out, now standing alone in the kitchen. More confused than you’d ever been.

The same thing kept happening over and over again. If you thought it was a coincidence at first then there was no denying that it was purposeful now. Every single time you and Stephen got affectionate with one another, that damned cloak managed to butt itself into the tender moment. Ruining it. For example, cuddling while watching tv? No, the cloak wiggled itself between the two of you. Going on a walk together? Nope, the cloak started pushing Stephen forward twice as fast as you could even walk. Even holding hands was difficult with how the cloak curled its sides inwards to prevent it from happening. Something was seriously off.

Day after day it grew into a few weeks. Annoying, long weeks without being able to touch your lover at all. This must be modern torture. Sitting before Stephen, you clasped your hands below your chin. “Sooo, I've noticed your cloak dislikes me.” You said while keeping your voice low in fear of the cloak listening in and somehow ruining this moment too, without ever managing to figure things out on how to fix it. “Finally. I was beginning to think you were actually stupid.” He said with a proud smirk, crossing his arms over his chest as if he had won some lottery.

“Right, then..why? It didn’t have a problem with me before.” You said, leaning back in your chair with a deep sigh. “Think about it. You go to another side of the world for a long while with someone. You bond, grow your friendship and suddenly it's time to go back. Would you want to leave your friend?” Stephen asked, finding some neat pleasure in playing mind games with you, seeing you follow his instructions. The good ones that were supposed to give you new perspectives to think about. Another thing he could feel proud about teaching you.

“No, I'd want to keep the friendship going.” You said, serious as ever while looking over at Stephen who had already fixated his gaze on you with an expectant glint. Urging you to piece the puzzle together on your own without him having to reveal it. It took you a few moments before you laughed a soft sound between surprise and disbelief, “Wait- Don’t tell me your coak grew jealous. Of me?” As funny as the idea was, it happened to be exactly that. Going on a mission with Stephen had left the cloak longing for more time alone with its owner.

“Honestly, I'm as surprised as you are. Never have I ever thought to see a jealous relic.” Stephen said then stood up to move closer to you. Leaning down to whisper into your ear that you guys should show this piece of fabric that it shouldn’t come between the two of you anymore or else it might walk in on something it probably wouldn’t like. The whole plan was easier than expected since you had no trouble getting handsy. It had been quite a long time afterall.

Waiting until midnight before getting to work. Or rather getting all up in each other's business. It started off as a simple make out, slowly adding hands that travelled. Your one hand was gripping the back of Stephen's head while the other pulled him closer by his hip while Stephen's hands were desperately pulling you close by your clothes. Hearing the racking coming from down the hall, you were sure it was going according to how you guys discussed. Maybe even better than anticipated given you have only just begun.

Sensing the heat grow, you pinned Stephen to the bed, smothering his skin with one kiss after another, leaving the occasional bites while your hand slid down to cup his growing erection. Smiling against Stephen's skin when you heard him sigh with need, bordering on a whine. A gentle teasing tug and you had him buck his hips up into your hand, it made you happy how easy you could make him crave you. Letting your lips find his once more you began making out again, all while your hands got busy with peeling off his clothes one by one.

The pile scattered over the bed. He was finally bare and vulnerable below you, oh so pretty just for you. Flushed and heaving from those gentle kisses that wet his skin and caressing hands that knew all of the hidden erogenous zones by heart. Melting this respected sorcerer to a puddle of neediness. Smiling down at him, you cupped his dick, slowly, teasingly jerking him. Wanting to make him cry and arch into your touch with barely contained whimpers before you’d give him the speed he wanted. Thumb purposefully pressing the underside of his dick, just below the leaking crown. Sensitive and perfect.

“You know-..oh shit…you know you don’t have to hold back, right?” Stephen breathed out, stopping his sentence each time you played into his weaknesses. Soft caresses, longing looks and that damn lustful look on your face. With a smile you leaned over him, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth before whispering, “I’m not..but if you want something, you’re gonna have to say so clearly.” Your hand, still busy with jerking Stephen off in agonisingly slow movements. This was Stephen’s way of getting what he wanted without losing his pride, you knew that yet you wanted to hear him voice his own needs rather than twist the words. Seeing as you wouldn’t budge from your plan to deliciously torture Stephen, he grew a bit overstimulated.

“Come on- just..fuck me already!” He suddenly groaned, his dick leaking pre all over your thumb by this point. Though as much as you would have liked to memorise this moment of Stephen breaking under pleasure, it had been a blur of orange lights and banging on the door. Oh yeah, you’d forgotten why you were doing this in the first place. The cloak. It had escaped its cage and came tumbling down the hall to barge in but with how needy Stephen had got, there was no way he was letting anything come between you two. Hence the sudden magic, the room filled with a few portals and through them he had forged his glowing whips. The initial idea had been to use them to block out the cloak from entering but seems like the sexual frustration had doubled the effect.

The door had been completely blocked off by a net of whip parts, all messy as they lasered the room like fairy lights. That was not all, in the middle of this mess of magic the whips had tied themself around your body. Hands behind your back, together at the wrists then around your torso, to pin your arms to your sides. Turns out that your Stephen might be a bit more a freak than he lets on, a side he only shows in desperation. He did not care that things might be all over the place, all he was focused on was getting you inside him. You tensed up a bit at the sudden bondage but seeing Stephen so eager was turning you on more than you’d like to admit. Despite the awkward thrashing you could hear from the doorway, it seems the cloak really didn’t like this but knowing that nothing could be done about this moment made it leave. You didn’t notice when but at least it didn’t feel like you were being burned by an invisible gaze.

“Good..fuck- you were driving me insane you minx.” Stephen chuckled out and moved his arms to pull you down onto the bed by the whips. Almost puppeteering you with how crowded the bed suddenly felt. He wasted no time in clawing off your pants to get his hands on the prize, you could see the silent relief in his when he saw you hard and twitching against your abdomen. Seems like you did truly want this as much as he did. He held you in his hand jerking you eagerly for a moment before slipping a condom over it. You didn’t notice how or when he’d got his hands on it but it’s not like it mattered. You were about to reach heaven really soon.

With barely contained eagerness Stephen crawled over, straddling your hips to line himself up with you before sinking down. “Perfect..now that I’m in control..I’m going to do what I want.” He declared with a smile and forced himself harshly down with a needy bounce. His head falling back from the pleasure, making him clench around you like fist. A sigh left his lips before he gained a good momentum, hands neatly holding the whips steady while he lost himself to the pleasure. 

You could only watch as this genius of a man was fucking himself dumb on your dick, hair rocking along with his eager grinding, eyes closed in bliss, hands tightening around the ropes to keep you pinned all while his insides perfectly squeezed you dry. You, too, were having a difficult time holding back, each bounce from Stephen felt so ethereal that one might mistake it as a massage for your mind. He was so perfect for you, despite the fact he was keeping to his own rhythm, not letting you take charge for the night. Pleasure and desperation mixing into a deadly potion of lust.

Even when Stephen was reaching his peak, he refused to speed up, keeping a consistent tempo. A knowing smirk on his face as he felt his core tighten up, threatening to clutch around your twitching dick so hard it would make you see white. “Hun..please..just a tad faster?” You begged while barely being able to keep your eyes open, mouth fallen open and soft groans escaping every time Stephen took you deep into his body. Your voices worked together perfectly to create an orchestra of sounds. “Noo..after you teased me..I think you deserve this.” He replied with a whine of his own, legs shaking from how greedily he had been fucking himself on your dick.

“Please?” You begged again, louder this time since the peak was so close for you. Just a smidge more and you’d be able to feel the euphoria wash over you. Stephen only moaned in response, cruelly ignoring the plea for a good minute before he harshened his bouncing. His inner walls clinging to your dick like a leech before he pulled you under with him. A shuddering climax rushed over the both of you, drawing out loud cries of release. Both of you felt your bodies give into exhaustion with how backs were arched and muscles that were tensed.

Taking a breather, Stephen finally let go of his magic, falling forward to lie against your chest while your hands surrounded him in a comforting hug. “Dear lord..you were perfect..” You whispered out, pressing a kiss to his temple before shuffling against the bed. Groaning when your dick twitched in Stephen, feeling cozy in the warm cavern. “I was just giving you a piece of your own medicine.” He sighed and visibly relaxed against you, eyes shut as he muttered something about cleaning up later.

You gladly agreed and let Stephen fall asleep in your arms. Smiling to yourself at the sight of an unusually soft Stephen. It made your heart soar. With a grin you looked at the doorway where the cloak had been previously seen. “Take that.” You whispered and by the sound of an upset clank downstairs, the cloak had sensed you talking shit. It would get over it soon enough, it had to. Stephen was your boyfriend afterall, there was no way a cloak was going to get between you two.

[unearthlyeclipse]

Hii! If you have the time could you make dr strange p links? Please and thank youuu

STEPHEN "VINCENT" STRANGE :: DR. STRANGE P! LINKS // NSFW/SMUT

A/N: So far, the requests I've been receiving are some that I've been working on, THIS IS SO FUNNN!!!! Strange is my beloved so this one made me pretty giddy as I worked on it!!! Hope you enjoy it, my first post after I graduated!!!

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, smut, fingering, squirting, cunnilingus, face riding, edging, slight size difference, p in v sex, creampie, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69ing/position, thigh jobs, teasing, dirty talk.

Stephen was longing for you because he's been so busy.

Stephen working his magic fingers on you.

Being tied and bound while Stephen pummels your cunt with his digits.

Getting thanked by Stephen for being such an amazing assistant.

Stephen would gladly die between your thighs.

Stephen trying to teach you how to hold your orgasm, but his thick fingers were already making it hard enough.

Stephen had just come home from a mission and was quick to press you into the mattress. Perhaps he was hexed...

After having such a rough day, Stephen had offered to fuck the problems out of you.

Stephen unloaded within you and watched you play with yourself with hunger.

Being held down by Stephen, his tongue wet with your juices while groping you desperately, he wanted you terribly.

Stephen didn't disappoint when he went down on you after you were waiting for his arrival in his luscious bed.

Giving Stephen a break from his studies.

You were feeling so overwhemled, considering Stephen's cock was in your mouth while his tongue was delved in your heat.

You had on your best lingerie to surprise Stephen for your anniversary; you can tell he adored it.

Stephen claimed he wanted you to relax after a long day, but he truly making you melt and crumble beneath his touch.

A stingy, greedy Stephen trying to touch you however he can.

[midniqhtt]

miscellaneous marvel characters

masterlist • marvel • 06/19/25

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs

tony

𑣲 sky rockets and robots I @amethystarachnid

Y/N's ex left her when she got pregnant, Tony is a softie here

steve/ loki series

𑣲 remember pt2 pt3 pt4 pt5 pt6 pt7 pt8 pt9 pt9.5 I @bonky-n-steeb

Bored after staying on Asgard your entire life, you decide to sneak on earth. But what happens when Steve falls irrevocably in love with you, the Queen of Asgard, wife of Loki

sam wilson

𑣲 the futures overdue I @aquaticmercy

A year after breaking up with Sam Wilson, he shows up at your doorstep.

peter quill

𑣲 homesick I @rose-gold-bullet

You're sent on a mission to another planet and catch the attention of your ally.

𑣲 say yes (please?) I @mcondance

stephen strange

𑣲 we can’t be friends I @brunchable

Your relationship with Stephen Strange has been strained to the breaking point by his constant absences and mystical duties. Despite Stephen's attempts to mend your fractured bond, you decide to seek a more permanent solution.

𑣲 no other way I @/brunchable

stucky

𑣲 double trouble I @lostalioth

steve and bucky would follow you to the ends of the earth. one call of their names and they’re at your service. they’re obsessed, only problem is you aren’t theirs, not yet anyways.

𑣲 i met them and now im their queen I @mercurial-chuckles

𑣲 accidents happen I @myfictionaldreams

You were visiting a friend when you were accidentally hit in the face, leaving behind a cut across your cheekbone. How will Steve and Bucky react when they see their girl injured?

𑣲 between the pages of a journal I @crazyunsexycool

You had been in a relationship with Steve and Bucky up until the time they went off to war only to lose them both. Years later when Steve and Bucky have reunited the receive the letters and journals you had written. Through them they learn about your life without them.

𑣲 a soul for a soul I @jamesbuchananxsteviegrant

reader dies when collecting the soul stone with steve, and bucky finds out in the final battle against thanos

𑣲 we lost I @/jamesbuchananxsteviegrant

Reader Was In Space With Tony When Thanos Snapped And Is Later Reunited With Bucky And Steve

joaquín torres

𑣲 his secret I @writingdumpster

Joaquin has always wanted to keep you separate from his avenging, but when Sam and Bucky pay him an unexpected visit he can’t anymore.

𑣲 vuelve a mí pt2 I @nathanbatemanfucker

you and joaquin confront the cause of the end of your relationship.

thunderbolts* (multi)

𑣲 cumming in their pants I @lovebugism

𑣲 fake dating I @/lovebugism

𑣲 interrupted/getting caught I @/lovebugism

𑣲 nothing’s gonna stop us I @starktonyx

An attempt at homemade cookies, ridiculous requests to Valentina and a karaoke night will have you finding out you have a hidden singer in your team.

𑣲 seeing you in lingerie I @webslinger-holland

𑣲 the thunderbolts watch you get ready for a date that's not with them I @/webslinger-holland

[bimrwolf]

Sex with a Ghost

stephen strange x reader words: 11,583 warnings: minors DNI, smut, will they wont they, commitment issues, sex sex sex summary: Stephen and you have a strange relationship. A casual friendship turned into a casual affair. Your heart takes a different turn concerning the superhero. You learn the hard way of his lack of emotional intelligence. a/n: this is an old fic i wrote..... decided to put it on my blog... pls ignore me. im trying to get over benedict i really am...this is 2 years old pls forgive me

His rough long fingers traced your bare skin as your back pressed against his stomach. Your hair was a tangled mess that fell in front of your eyes. A giggle escaped your lips when you felt him pull your hair out of the way so his warm cupid bow lips could find their way beneath your ear. You had just woken up after an… eventful night to say the least. 

You hadn’t seen Stephen Strange in a few weeks. You weren’t upset or anything. It was your arrangement the pair of you had. One of you had a bad day? You could call them. One of you had one of the best days ever? You would call them. If one of you was incredibly horny… well you get the picture. 

Last night, Stephen hadn’t called you for any of those things. You were a bit shocked to hear from him considering the last time you were together ended in an argument. But when you answered the phone he talked to you like nothing had happened. Like he had never told you he never wanted to see you again. You had to bite your lip when he sputtered out that he needed your help.

You were going to tell him to suck a fat one and fuck off, but when he sensed you were about to hang up the phone, “Y/n, please.” The begged tone that came out of his mouth made you shiver. It seemed like as soon as you hung up the phone you were at his door. It didn’t take long for his problem to be long forgotten and he had you bent over a desk, hands on your hips as he took long thrusts inside of you. 

You didn’t exactly remember how things began between you. You were roommates with Christine in University and introduced the pair to one another. You didn’t even have feelings for him until years after they had broken up; however, it was clear the two still had feelings for each other. It was when Stephen came back from the blip that things had been different. Christine had met someone, and they were serious. He had shown up to your apartment, asking you a million questions about Charlie until you had enough of it and kissed the former surgeon to make him shut-up. You found yourself sprawled on your couch with your sundress hiked up and hands clenching Stephen Strange’s hair as he devoured you. 

You flipped over so you could look at the dark haired blue eyed man. His hand returned to your torso, his thumb massaged into your skin. “I missed you.” 

A lump formed in your throat when he said this. He didn’t mean it. He never did or he would make more of an effort to see you.  You weren’t sure how to respond. You had missed him too, but you couldn’t help but still feel the wound he left in your heart the last time he saw you. You already felt weak enough that you slept with him. 

His eyebrows furrowed when he noticed the look on your face. “Y/n, about last time-”

You kissed his lips softly. “We don’t need to talk about it.” 

“But you should know-” 

“Stephen, it’s okay. We don’t have to bring it up.” You nipped at the soft spot of his neck. You smirked when you heard a pushed back groan from the back of his throat. You continued to trail nips and kisses down his body. You would occasionally look up to see his reaction but his face was stoic. You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness. It didn’t matter though, because his hard member told you that he was enjoying it. 

You climbed on top of the superhero and stretched so that he could get a good view of every curve before him. Stephen bit his lip as his hands trailed up and down your thighs. “Y/n.” He begged. You felt him twitch, as he tried not to devour every inch of you.

The sun started to bleed through his curtains. The beams shone on his face, his sharp cheekbones glowed. You couldn’t help but be in awe of the magnificent man underneath you. You loved him. Your eyes pricked with tears. Those words infiltrated your head again. It was unwanted like ants at a picnic. You took a deep breath as you pushed yourself off of him and got out of the bed. “I have to go.” 

Stephen was confused. He hoisted himself up with his elbow as he watched you try to find your clothes that were scattered around the room. 

“You said last night you didn’t have anything to do today. Hence why you stayed over.” 

“Um, yeah. I forgot. I have a thing.” 

“A thing?”

“Yeah.” You groaned. Where the hell was your shirt? 

“Y/n, does this have to do anything with-” 

“Oh my God, Stephen. Can we please just drop it? I don’t want to talk about it.” You snapped. 

“But Y/n, you said you love me.” 

Right. It wasn’t a secret. The last time you were together, you were making coffee for both of you. He made a joke you have forgotten by now, because you only remember the embarrassment of letting those cursed words roll off your tongues as you laughed. 

He stared at you for a moment before standing up to walk away. You begged him to say something, but he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to acknowledge it. 

“Well, you didn’t say it back. ” Tired of looking for your shirt that you’re certain is now lost in another dimension, you grabbed one of his on the floor. You tried to remember if it was the one he wore last night.  “I’ll mail it back to you.”

Stephen had crawled out of bed by this time and put his boxers on. He walked towards you while you buttoned the shirt. Stephen grabbed your hands. “Y/n, stay.” 

You remembered asking him to do the same thing. Tears streamed down your puffy cheeks. You wanted him to stay and talk it out. You had finally had enough and told him that if his lack of response was because of Christine, he needed to get over it. You told him Christine and him were over and she didn’t love him anymore. 

You had never seen Stephen angry before. His nose flared, and his eyes narrowed. He didn’t yell, or curse you. He simply said he never wanted to see you again. But his words were like a venomous snake, striking you hard. 

You realized why had called you tonight. He was lonely and unhappy. What else was there to do than to call the only other lonely unhappy person that he knew. It always had to be him to make the shots. 

You snatched your hands out of his grasp.  “You know what your problem is, Stephen? You’re still so far up your own ass even after everything you’ve been through. I don’t know what was going through my head coming over. I don’t know what went through my head being involved with you. All of this has clearly been a mistake.” 

“You think our time together was a mistake? All of it?” Stephen crossed his arms. 

You pressed the bridge of your nose, unsure what to say. Of course you didn’t think it was a mistake. You enjoyed every moment of it, but you couldn’t help feeling resentment in his commitment issues. You hated that you allowed yourself to fall in the same trap he set up for Christine. You were a little mouse and he taunted you with cheese, hope and a future, but instead you were trapped and left to die with no rewards. 

“Stephen, I love you.” You couldn’t look him in the eyes. You couldn’t let him see that vulnerability like the last time you had confessed to him. 

“I know, but Y/n… you know I… I can’t.” 

“I’m not finished. I love you,” you repeated. You looked him in the eyes, and hoped to see that glimmer that maybe he would say it back. He opened his mouth; however, he shut it quickly. “But I love myself more. I can’t keep letting your stunted emotions hold me back.” 

You left the room before he could say anything more. You knew he could easily open a portal to catch up to you. He could get on his knees and show you he felt the same, but he didn’t. You wanted nothing to do with him ever again.

You went three months without hearing, seeing, or talking about Stephen Strange. You missed him. You thought about him every day and at least once a week… okay maybe more… you would draft a text message to him that you were thinking about him. You would delete it before the temptation of pressing that send button overtook your stubbornness. He would ignore it like other messages anyway. Always leaving you on read until he was ready to see you again on his time. 

Saturdays were always a lazy day for you. You hadn’t left your bed except to use the restroom. You mindlessly scrolled on different media platforms to waste time and avoid getting up. You jumped when your phone started to buzz and ring in your hand. You furrowed your brows when you saw who it was, but nevertheless answered. 

You felt a little grouchy that you had agreed to get lunch with Christine on your day you vow not to leave the apartment unless for emergencies. If it weren’t for the fact you had barely seen her this year, you would have rain checked. 

She was at the café first. Her strawberry hair was down in loose curls and she wore a yellow sundress. When she saw you, she smiled and stood up to hug you.  

“I’m so happy to see you!” 

“Same. We haven’t done one of these in a while,” you commented. She had already ordered your food, you noticed. You were grateful because you were starving and not sure if you could wait any longer before devouring a sandwich. 

“Between the hospital, Charlie… and the engagement. I guess I’ve been busy.” Christine took a bite of her pasta salad. 

“Yeah, It’s been busy for me too… wait engagement?”

Christine set down her fork and showed her right hand that you didn’t notice had been in her lap the entire time. An elegant diamond ring glimmered on her slender finger. “We’ve been keeping it hushed for a few months now. But since we have a venue and date ready I thought it was time to come clean!” You couldn’t help but feel envious. Christine looked so happy, her smile reached from ear to ear. You wondered if you would ever feel that one day. “Also, I have been trying to find the best time to ask if you would be my Maid of Honor.” 

“You want me?” 

“Of course! We wanted a small wedding party, and you’re the first person I could think of. ” 

The pang of guilt made your chest tighten. You realized all this time you hadn’t been honest with Christine. You had been sneaking behind her back with your casual affair. “Christine, I’m honored. I really am, but I don’t think I’m the right person.” 

“You’ve always been there for me, Y/n. I want to celebrate my happy day with you by my side.”

Your eyes made their way to the sandwich on your plate with only one bite. The hunger you felt earlier vanished but you felt it threaten to come up. “I haven’t been a good friend.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. If you tried to speak any louder you might croak. 

“Is this about you and Stephen?”

You snapped your head up eyebrows furrowed. You were confused how she could possibly guess that. “How?” 

“You didn’t think I’d notice you two sneaking off together at my Christmas party?” She didn’t look hurt or angry. Her lips were tugged into a smug look. She had been waiting for this moment to talk about you and Stephen. I guess you weren’t the only one holding secrets. 

“Well, it’s over anyway.” You poked at a pile of sliced pickles on your plate. 

“That dumbass.” 

“Who said it was his fault?” 

“It’s Stephen Strange we’re talking about.”

You two shared a fit of giggles. It felt good to laugh. She made you feel like you weren’t crazy or clingy or stupid. For the past few months you thought you had been alone. It was a bit narcissistic when you thought about it, because there was one person who understood— probably more than you. 

The next three months you were too busy helping plan Christine’s bridal and bachelorette party that you had no time to think about your love life. You had convinced yourself to forget about the arrogant superhero— until his name was on the list of invitations. 

You tried your best to ignore it. You skipped over his name numerous times when stamping and sealing envelopes. You contemplated if you should spray your perfume on the invitation, or add a message. You wanted to do something to make him miss you. Being the bigger person, however, sucked. 

Christine wanted to do one thing for her bachelorette. Get wasted. 

She didn’t have many other girl friends due to her busy schedule, but she insisted on inviting a few girls from work and her fiancé’s sister. You had to convince her co-worker free booze was involved and they were all in. 

It didn’t take long for everyone to be wasted. They were all middle-aged women and giggling over the dick shaped objects you had bought for the party. 

“How big is Charlie?” Cathy, one of Christine’s co-workers asked. 

“Ew, please don’t answer that.” Charlie’s sister, Moriah, fake gagged. 

Everyone burst into laughter while Christine blushed and covered her face. 

“My mother always told me, if the shoe doesn't fit just right, don’t buy it!” Cathy howled at her joke. 

“Mmm, I bet some of those surgeons at the hospital know exactly how to work their hands.” Another co-worker, Minnie, replied. “Spill the beans Christine, was Dr. Strange as wonderful in bed as everyone assumes?” 

You choked on your “Cumcoction” that you had made out of different alcoholic beverages and juices. You received curious glances as you tried to clean up a few drops on your chin. 

“I don’t think about him and our past anymore.” Christine was trying to be polite and considerate of your feelings. You gave her a look to tell her it’s okay. “Besides he seems to have his hands busy with other things.”

The girls didn’t seem to catch on what she was insinuating. “Ah, yes. He’s probably too busy saving the world to be worried about a relationship.” Cathy commented. “I bet he he has a pretty dick, though”

“He does.” 

Everyone’s eyes snapped towards you. You covered your mouth quickly, as if doing that wouldn’t make them suspicious of you. You tried to sputter out excuses that you meant you thought so too. But the girls weren’t buying it, and Christine wasn’t helping. She was too busy trying not to laugh at your confession. 

“Y/n, are you sleeping with Stephen Strange?” Minnie asked. 

“Not anymore!” You proclaimed. “We… it wasn’t anything serious.” 

“Yeah, right! She’s in love with him.” Christine rolled her eyes. 

“You’re okay with it?” Cathy questioned. 

“Why wouldn’t I be? I don’t own either him or Y/n.”

“Okay, girl, then why are we not with him anymore?” The question was directed at you this time. 

You racked your brain for a reply. But it felt like the words floating around were squiggles that you couldn’t decipher. “I… we’re different.” 

“How so?”

“This party is about Christine, we should talk about something else.” You coughed. When no one budged to change the subject you sighed. “It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t miss me or anything like that.” 

“Why do you say that?” By this time the alcohol is pumping in your bloodstream you don’t even know who’s the one talking. 

“Hee… hasn’t texted me to check on meee.”

“Girl, you have to do something to make him realize he misses you. This is your apartment right?” 

You nodded. 

“Come on!”

You believe it was Cathy who led everyone to your bedroom. She asked you where you kept your undergarments. You led her to your dresser and pulled out a drawer. She peeked inside and shook her head. “No. We need something revealing but not too much.” 

“What about this?” You asked, picking up a white button up shirt. 

“That is the opposite of what I meant.” 

You giggled. “It’s his. I stole it.” 

Everyone knew immediately what you needed to do. 

You found yourself laid on your bed in a pair of black bra, panties and Stephen’s shirt. Turns out, Charlie’s sister is a boudoir photographer and was in charge of setting up the scene. She undid most of the top buttons— enough to have your bra and breasts exposed. Moriah instructed you to arch your back and put your hands stretched above your head. If there wasn’t alcohol in you there would be no way you’d let strangers see you like this. 

The girls cooed and giggled. Christine kept repeating how hot you looked. You tried to keep a neutral facial expression like Moriah commanded, but it was hard not to blush at the drunken compliments.

When Moriah was done taking the photo she gave you the okay to relax. Your phone got passed around like it was show and tell. They kept squealing at the photo. You weren’t sure how a simple photograph could cause such a reaction. There wasn’t anything special about you. 

Minnie handed you the phone with an approved smile plastered on her face. 

Your eyes widened as soon as you saw the screen. You looked… sexy. Your sultry body language made your toes tingle. You looked up at the girls in front of you as they gave you a are-you-going-to-do-it look. You smirked and began to type out a message that you believed was well constructed enough to make Stephen Strange teleport into your room as soon as he saw it— he’s done it before. 

There was no need to ask if it was acceptable. After you pressed send you turned your phone to show them. They all gathered around to see that you sent the photo along with the message “I’m trying to give back this shirt to its rightful owner, could you help?” 

Their laughter almost covered the sound of your phone ringing. The sudden vibrations in your hand scared you, which caused you to throw it on your bed. “Oh my god.” You whispered. It was him. You looked at the girls, begging for help. You realized you weren’t being that serious. It was a joke, and now the joke went further than expected because he was responding. “Oh my god.” You cried out. You felt like you were going to throw up and it wasn’t because of the alcohol. 

“Answer it!” Christine encouraged. 

“What would I even say?” You put your hands on top of your head. 

Christine rolled her eyes, picked up the phone and handed it to you. “Start off by saying hello.” She looked at her friends and motioned her head towards the door to give you privacy. 

The phone rang again and you felt your lungs rip out of your chest for a moment. Your shaky thumb betrayed you and accepted the call. “H-hello?” 

“Y/n?” His cool voice made a shiver roll down your spine. You missed his voice, his soothing words that triggered the hairs on your arms to stand up. You missed his fingers when they trailed your goosebumps followed by those sweet kisses. 

“Yeah.”

“Er, I received your text.” 

“Right, that silly thing. I was joking.” 

“Joking.” He repeated out loud. 

“Yep.” 

“What a shame I really miss… that shirt.” 

You let out a breath of air. “I think this shirt misses you too.” Your finger trailed over a loose thread on your comforter. “Unfortunately, you would have to rip it off of me before I gave it up. I’ve grown quite attached to it.” 

You smirked when the sound of his breath hitched in his throat. 

“I can imagine it now. You have one hand wrapped around my neck so you can feel my pulse while the other hand tears the shirt off my naked body. I’m wet just thinking about it, Stephen.” 

“Y/n.” It sounded like a warning. If you said anything more he would come undone. 

“Sadly, I’m preoccupied with other endeavors. I guess the rest of this conversation can be left for the imagination. Talk to you later!” 

You heard him call out your name as you removed your phone from your ear. You felt so much power once you hung up. You had hoped he would send a stream of text messages or would try to call again. You even hoped he would be in your room by now, but after about five minutes of silence you came to terms none of those would happen. Disappointed, you got dressed back into your previous clothes and joined the party again. 

Everyone left about two in the morning. Cathy was so drunk that Minnie volunteered to let the woman stay with her. Christine thanked you for the exciting night— it made her feel like they were in University again.

You were practically sober when you closed the door to your apartment, but the inevitable pressure started to push against your skull. Luckily your apartment wasn’t that messy. It was nothing you couldn’t handle in the morning. 

You felt tired, but not enough to lay in your bed and go to sleep. You settled on trashy reality while you laid on your couch, an ice pack on your forehead. This was the consequence of drinking a lot tonight when you rarely drink at all. You were surprised you didn’t end up like Cathy, stumbling around sputtering nonsense. But you were drunk enough to send a risque photo to your ex-lover who will never love you back. 

You groaned and sputtered out curses. If you could, you would kick yourself. So much for holding your ground and never talking to him again. You would have to see him next weekend, but it was different because you didn’t initiate it and it would be easy to avoid him. If he tried to come towards you it would be just as easy to  turn the other way. 

Another example would be if he were to knock on your door at two-thirty in the morning, it would be easy to slam it in his face. But what if he was standing there, wearing a blue cotton t-shirt with grey sweatpants? His hair disheveled and fell in front of his eyes. He looked like he had been trying to sleep, but couldn’t. 

You should just slam the door. You should, but you didn’t. 

Stephen walked inside your apartment scanning the remnants of the party. “Ah.” He said. He seemed to acknowledge what you were doing tonight and there was no need to ask further questions. 

“What are you doing here?” You knew why he was here, and that’s probably why you closed your door, locking it. 

“I told you… I really missed my shirt.” 

You bit your lip. He wasn’t looking at you and it was making you mad. You wondered if he’d notice if you started making goofy faces at him. “It’s in my room. I can go get it for you.” 

When you came back out of your room, Stephen had made a spot on your couch. He sat upright hands in his lap. The only light came from the TV as the blue tint glowed on him. 

“Didn’t take you as a Kardashian fan.” Stephen called out, unaware of your presence. 

“It helps me sleep at night.”

“That’s what melatonin…” He looked over at you on the other side of the couch. His mouth fell agape. It was like the photo you had sent him came to life before his eyes. “I thought you said you were getting my shirt for me. Not wear it.” 

You strutted towards him. His eyes never left yours as you got closer. “I told you Dr. Strange,” you said. You were now in front of him. “You’ll have to tear it off of me if you’re wanting it back.” You wiggled his knees apart and slipped between him. Your fingers ran through his unkempt dark locks. You were always fascinated with the silver streak and found yourself twirling it around your finger.

His hands stayed on his thighs. They hadn’t budged at all as if he was forcing them down with weights. 

“You’re not touching me.” You stated. Your left hand left his hair and came to his cheek. “Why?” 

“I’m only granting your wishes.” 

“My wishes?” 

“You said this was over.”

You smirked and leaned over to his ear. “Stephen, if you were granting my wishes you wouldn’t have answered the phone.” You looked into his icy eyes polluted by darkness. “You can tell me to stop.” He wouldn’t tell you to. That’s why he let your fingers trail to his lips. Your thumb grazed from  top to bottom, allowing you to have an opening to place your own lips on his. 

Hot breaths exchanged between you like you both were trying to suck the oxygen out of one another. You needed to take a breath of air— as if you had been underwater and gasped for life. The only thing that told you were alive was the sound of your heart beating out of your chest and the blood pumping in your veins. 

You stole another deep kiss, nipping his bottom lip. He hissed, but you quickly shut him up by putting your thumb in his mouth letting his tongue graze the digit. Your other fingers placed underneath his jaw as you pressed down to open his mouth. 

You had never really taken control like this before. It had always been him bending you over, making you whimper, making you beg for him. 

He still refused to touch you. It was pissing you off, but you refused to say anything. Instead, you pushed his hands away and sat in his lap. You bucked your hip to force a soft moan to escape his lips. 

He shifted, allowing you to feel the hardness through his sweats. He placed his hands on your hips to pull you closer allowing more friction between him and you, the pressure relieving the ache trapped beneath. He grabbed the back of your neck to bring you into a passionate kiss. His other hand found itself wandering underneath your — his— shirt. That damn shirt. 

He had had enough. He picked you up slightly and threw you on the couch. He climbed on top of you, hungry kisses attacked your lips. You pushed the hem of his shirt up to help him take it off, throwing it on the ground. He came back down and started kissing your jaw down to your neck, nipping and sucking pink blooms all over.

You placed your hand on his chest. You loved the feeling of his muscles under your touch. You felt him shudder as they trailed down his body to the hem of his sweatpants. However he was quick to dodge her eager fingers from exploring further. “Patience.” He growled. 

“I haven’t been with you in months, can you blame me?” 

“And whose fault is that?” 

You had to bite your tongue. You were too incredibly horny to try to argue with him. He slid down, eyes never breaking yours as he pushed your thighs apart. His eyes broke away from yours and he was now focused on what he could see between your legs. You had gone ahead to do away with anything else besides his shirt. He wanted to say something witty, but he used his sharp tongue to lick you instead. A small quiet moan left your lips, making him work faster. You instinctively grabbed the first thing you could think of as you embraced the jolts of pleasure pumping through your body which was Stephen’s hair. He spread your legs a bit further to get a better angle. His tongue pressed a spot that made you gasp and back arch. If he went any longer you might not make it so you tugged his hair, a silent instruction to come back to you. 

He licked his lips that tasted only of you. You wanted him to come back and kiss you but instead he got off of you and the couche. You frowned and thought maybe he was done and wanted to leave. He realized it was another mistake that they were together again after months of silence. But rather than collecting his things, Stephen began to remove his sweatpants, throwing them to the designated clothes pile. Your eyes were wide when you discovered he was not wearing anything under his clothes either. He knew this would happen. Smartass. 

He returned on top of you. He looked at the shirt covering you. His impatient fingers began to pick at the buttons to free your body. He struggled to get them undone, a small vein popped at the top of his forehead from frustration. 

“Here let me help.” You offered, bringing your hands towards the buttons. 

Stephen pushed them away and hooked his fingers between the gaps, pulling the fabric. A few buttons flew across the room, but neither one of you cared. He began kissing your inner thigh, up your leg, your stomach. He relished the sight of your bare breasts before he took one in his mouth while the other was being massaged. The blue tones from the TV cast shadows on his face, exaggerating his cheekbones. 

“Stephen, I need you.” Your voice was shaky. It felt like you had forgotten how to speak. 

He looked up at you to see the plea in your eyes. Sitting up on his knees, he took your legs and wrapped them around his waist. You adjusted yourself to help him find your entrance. You moaned in unison as he entered inside of you, your walls welcoming him as they pulsated like a heartbeat. It was a mixture of relief and pleasure as he took long slow thrusts inside of you. He wanted your body to crave the feeling until it begged for more. 

Stephen placed his chest flush against your breasts. One hand rested on your hip as he nuzzled his face into your shoulder, his warm breaths tickled your bare skin. His pace began to pick up a low groan rattled in his throat that sent tiny vibrations into you. He slid out of you almost completely then sank back inside you, hitting a spot that made you cry out in satisfaction. 

“Stephen,” you called out. Your nails dug into his back. 

He moved his lips to your neck, running his tongue over your pulse as he buried himself inside you again. Each thrust harder and faster than the last, sending waves of electricity through your core and nerves. You closed your eyes, the pleasure seemed almost unbearable. You felt the heat in your core begin to bubble like a teapot boiling water, the steam begging to be released. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him deeper. His hips snapped forward granting your body’s needs.

 “Fuck.” He groaned. 

His voice melted into you, pushing your climax over the edge. Heat pulsated through you hot, burning, blazing, tearing through you. Your walls hugged him as you released. “Keep going.” You sighed. 

He continued unrelentless thrusts in you. The only words exchanged were whimpers and grunts between stolen kisses as you felt him twitch. He drove himself into you, a final growl escaped his lips, releasing his climax. 

His pace steadied to a halt, his forehead on top of yours. You still felt him inside you, but neither of you moved. You studied each other’s breaths and how they once were erratic. Now, they were steady and back to normal, as if neither one of you were crying out in pleasure just moments ago. 

Every time you were with him you never knew if it would be the last. Each time you told yourself you’d relish and savour every touch, but like tonight, you got carried away. You brushed your fingers through his hair, scared he would disappear if you blinked. You knew nothing had changed, but maybe you were attempting to make a relationship out of nothing. Maybe this was all you’d have with him, and you needed to accept that.

The past few days felt odd. At work, Stephen would text you, asking if you wanted to get lunch or dinner. You didn’t mind, it wasn’t unusual for him to invite you out to eat; however, it had never been a daily occurrence. You didn’t want to question it so you accepted every time, not caring about his intentions. It was a bonus that a majority of the meals were free because the staff would recognize him as Dr. Strange, the superhero who helped defeat Thanos. 

What was even weirder was when he came to your work after you got off to walk you home. If you had already ate lunch, he would fuck you as soon as you got to your apartment, and if you had dinner plans he would fuck you before and fucked you after. You don’t recall having that much sex in a week but Stephen found a way to break your personal record. Not that you were complaining about the sex either. 

No, the sex was amazing as always, and the food delicious, but every day you couldn’t help but feel sick to your stomach. He would stay over at your apartment. You swore he put his toothbrush in your bathroom the second night. It was all you ever wanted out of him, a domestic relationship. But why did you feel unfulfilled every time you looked over at him sleeping peacefully in your bed? 

It was Thursday, two days before the wedding, tomorrow being the rehearsal dinner. You managed to decline lunch with Stephen, begging Christine to meet with you. You hadn’t seen her since the bachelorette party. You couldn’t make the next two days about you, but you needed advice. 

Christine’s schedule was busy to help tie up work at the hospital before her week-long honeymoon. She asked if you could have lunch at the hospital and if you hadn’t been under desperate measures you would have said never mind.

“I’m so happy you asked to meet. I needed a chance to catch my breath.” Christine told you, taking a sip of her tea. 

“Been a busy day, I guess?” 

“Working my ass off this week and the future in-laws are in town. I don’t think I’ve been able to relax or have fun on the week of my wedding.” She raised an eyebrow. “You on the other hand… look like you’ve been having fun.”

“What?” You asked. 

She scoffed, reaching over the table and pulling the collar of your shirt so it could reveal a bruised love bite. “I do hope you plan on covering that for Saturday.” 

You brushed her hand away, embarrassed. “I guess I’ve been a little carried away… this week.” 

“Wait, all week?” 

You put your face in your hands in shame. “Every. Single. Day. But it’s not the sex that’s bothering me. He’s treating me like we’re in a relationship.” 

“What’s wrong with that?” 

“Christine, we’re talking about Stephen Strange here. He doesn’t do relationships.”

“Well you don’t do just sex. Y/n, you’re in love with him and he’s using that to his advantage.”

You wanted to snap at her, because it was her who started this mess. If Christine hadn’t gotten her friends involved in your love life, then maybe that photo would had never been taken and then maybe he wouldn’t have come over and had sex with you on the couch and on the kitchen counter and the shower… it was definitely Christine’s fault. But then again, Christine knew Stephen maybe better than you did. You were only his booty call whenever something was bothering him. Except, you didn’t know anything that might be bothering him besides maybe your love confession. Your brain was hurting trying to figure it all out. 

“I can’t wait for this wedding to be over. I didn’t think monster-in-law was a real thing.” Christine said out loud, scrolling on her phone. 

Then it clicked. No wonder Stephen was acting like it was the end of the world. 

After your lunch with Christine you went back to work, but you couldn’t focus on anything. You had finished your reports earlier this week since you would have tomorrow off. Time seemed to drag. Every time you looked at the clock on your computer nothing seemed to change. 

You had two hours left of your shift before asking your boss if you could leave early. He wasn’t strict or high maintenance if you did your job right, and you always did. So, he had no issue with you leaving for the rest of the day. You were certain he probably wouldn’t notice you were gone tomorrow. 

You always felt nervous arriving at the sanctum, especially since it seemed like Wong was the one who always greeted you when you walked in. 

He always gave an all too knowing look when he would tell Stephen he had a guest. 

“Surprised to see you, Y/n.” Wong said as he walked through a portal, carrying a box. 

“Really?” 

“No. Strange, your girlfriend’s here!” Wong set the box down and walked back into the portal. 

“He’s not my boyfri-“

A voice interrupted you. “Y/n, I was just getting ready to come pick you up.” 

You didn’t question that he hadn’t corrected Wong. But you did raise an eyebrow. “Two hours early? I thought you just opened your portal thingy right before I got off.” 

“He does, it just takes him two hours to pick out an outfit.” Wong said, bringing in another box, grunting as he set it down. “You know, it wouldn’t hurt to help.” He looked at Stephen, who rolled his eyes in return. 

“You’re the Sorcerer Supreme. Not my job.” 

You giggled. Wong and him always had to make jabs at one another when it came to the subject of Sorcerer Supreme. That was actually one of the many reasons Stephen would call you upset. Which reminded you why you were there. “Stephen, could we talk?” 

“Yes, of course. Want to talk over dinner? I’m starving. I know a great restaurant about two blocks from here.” 

“Actually, I was thinking we could talk somewhere… private.” You bit your lip. 

“Really? Strange, I’d rather not hear you and your girlfriend talk about engaging in coitus while I’m here.” 

“He’s not my boyfri-“

“I don’t think that’s what she meant, Wong.” Stephen moved his hands in a circle. There were a few sparks as he opened a portal. He held out his hand for you to take. You waved goodbye to Wong as the two of you walked through. You took in the salty air as Stephen closed the portal so it was just the two of you. He had brought you to a secluded beach. There seemed to not be any sign of inhabitants within miles. “Where are we?”

“A deserted island. One of my favorite places to come when I need to think.” 

You looked at the man beside you. Most of the time he was arrogant and unbearable to be around, and that’s probably why you enjoyed his mouth being preoccupied elsewhere. But there were moments he shared with you that maybe you could find hope being with him. 

You took off your shoes so your feet could sink in the sand, it was also much easier to walk alongside him.

“So, what was so important that you took work off early?” He asked. 

You felt your words lose their way when you tried to speak. “I… um… I think we should stop. For real this time.” 

He didn’t budge, nor was there a change in his expression. 

“You’re not going to say anything?” 

“What is there to say, Y/n?” 

“I don’t know. Just something.” Your voice was soft, covered by the sounds of waves crashing the sand bank. 

“We’ve done this a thousand times, Y/n. One of us tells the other we’re done, but the next day we’re back to how we were.” 

“Well, I’m tired of feeling trapped in that cycle. This week, I thought I finally made a breakthrough. But I realized nothing was different. I realized you were using me like you had before. You’re sad, Stephen. You’re sad that Christine is getting married on Saturday, and you’re trying to use my emotions as your outlet to avoid it. I always thought if I begged for you, and I had more sex with you, then maybe you would see how much I truly love you and you would give it back to me.” 

He finally stopped walking so he could look at you. You tried your best to not look him in the eyes. You knew if you saw his reaction, you would cry. “Y/n…” He tried to speak but words failed to come out. 

“I’m done feeling like I need you to make me happy.” You felt your words choke on the sob rolling up your throat. “I don’t think I’ll ever make you happy.”

“I’m not sure how to respond.” Stephen admitted. His hands were at sides, you could see them twitch as if he wanted to do something but restrained himself. 

You wiped a tear that finally escaped, turning your back to him you were unable to face him any longer. “Just take me home.” 

He let out a heavy sigh before a portal to your living room opened in front of you. Without another word or glancing back at him, you stepped through. In all honesty, you wanted to turn around and ask him to forget everything you had just said. But you couldn’t fall back into the pattern. You needed to break it for both of you. Turning your body slightly, you watched as the portal closed, a few sparks were left until it became nothing, and you were staring at your mundane apartment once again as if nothing had been there. 

You debated on telling Christine you had a stomach bug and you couldn’t do the wedding anymore. The thought of seeing Stephen on Saturday made you want to throw up. You knew you couldn’t let her down. So, at the wedding rehearsal, you made sure to leave all of your problems at the door— these past two days were not about you. You did pretty good avoiding all of your issues, grateful that Moriah didn’t acknowledge the other night when she spoke to you. 

The wedding on the other hand… you knew he would be there. You had mentally prepared yourself when you would inevitably see him. When it was your cue to walk down the aisle, the best man arm linked with yours, your eyes immediately scanned the many guests. Although it was the back of their heads you could identify his silver streak. You gulped as you passed him, feeling his eyes bore the back of your head. 

As soon as you took your place, the pianist began to play Christine’s entrance. Everyone stood and turned to look at her as she walked in. Your focus was on her and you couldn’t help but let the anxiety wash away with happiness, watching your closest friend look extraordinarily beautiful. You noticed Charlie, tearing up as the two looked at each. To them, they were the only people in the room. Your eyes flickered to Stephen as Christine made her way past him; however, he only looked at her momentarily with a half-hearted smile before looking back in your direction. You pretended not to notice, but the heat on your cheeks told you otherwise. 

This went on the entire ceremony. You could feel his gaze on you, watching every single thing you did. Every breath you took his eyes were on the rise and fall of your chest to your slightly opened lips you occasionally licked. You wished you had your own superhero power like mind control, then you could tell him to fuck off. 

You made sure not to make eye-contact with him as you followed Christine and Charlie after they kissed and ran down the aisle. You swore you could hear Stephen whisper your name, yet, you refused to turn your head. 

At the reception you saw multiple times he attempted to approach you but by the grace of God, someone would jump in front of him to bombard you with questions about the wedding. It seemed being on your feet constantly was the only thing you were able to do. One point you snuck off to a secluded hallway, a glass of wine in your hand and sat down on a red cushioned window seat. A long sigh escaped you looking out at the city through the window. Passersby made their way past the building. None of them knew they walked by two people who vowed their love to one another. None of them knew how happy you were for your best friend. Yet, you couldn’t help feel the tight pang in your chest that held the feeling of jealousy and yearning. They were blurred together where it was hard to distinguish which one was which. 

The room temperature wine tickled your tongue. The bittersweet liquid always made you pucker your lips the first sip. 

You had just finished your maid of honor speech about Christine. It had been the most difficult part of the entire wedding in your opinion. Trying to write about a subject you weren’t exactly a professional in made it hard to come up with words. Sure you knew how to love, but when writing you realized you never knew what it felt to be loved. You saw the way Christine tucked her hair behind her ear whenever she shyly spoke about Charlie. But there was a different reaction when he did something romantic or said something sweet. The twinkle in Christine’s eyes sparkled bright. 

You looked at yourself in the reflection of the glass. You tried to imagine anybody treating you that way— you tried to imagine Stephen. You hated to admit that him staring at you the entire wedding made your heart skip a beat in your chest. You guessed it wouldn’t have been that terrible if he had come over and talked to you. There was nothing said to him that the two of you couldn’t be friends… right? You took another sip. Time to go back to reality. 

The band started playing a slow song once you entered the reception hall. Couples, including Christine and Charlie, were dancing. Heads placed on shoulders as they swayed to the tranquil music. You told yourself not to do it but your eyes betrayed you as you searched for him. It didn’t take long to find the tall superhero standing near the balcony, his own eyes scanning the crowd. Your heart stopped beating momentarily when his blue irises locked with yours. You said curses under your breath when he began walking in your direction.  You turned sideways to pretend like you definitely had not just eye-fucked him and downed the rest of your wine. 

“Y/n.” His voice was loud and clear beside you, but he still managed to say it low enough that it sent a shiver down your spine. 

You turned to face him. “Stephen. I didn’t know you were still here.” He gave you an unimpressed look because you both knew you were lying; however, he didn’t correct you. “Beautiful wedding, wasn’t it?” 

His eyes drifted down and looked over at the newlyweds before focusing back on you. “Yeah, it was. I’m glad she’s happy,” 

“Are you happy?” The words came out of your mouth unexpectedly. You wished your wine glass wasn’t empty. 

Stephen’s lips pursed. “Christine asked me the same question.”

“Well, what did you say?”

“Dance with me.” He blurted. 

His hand reached towards you but you pulled away from him. “You didn’t answer my question.” 

“I didn’t have an answer.” He reached for you again, this time succeeding in taking your free hand. You felt the tingles of electricity move through your fingers, much like the first time you had held hands after a month of seeing each other. You subconsciously grazed your thumb over the scars on his knuckles. You remembered when he winced the first time you touched them, but now it was one of his favorite things you did to him. Stephen leaned over. His lips nearly touched your ear. “Dance with me, and I’ll have an answer.” 

You shook your head, slipping your hand from his. “You know I can’t.” 

“Y/n I…” Before he could continue a loud crash came from outside the building. A few people noticed and ran towards the balcony to see the commotion of screams. Stephen looked at you with an apologetic look before running that way himself. You watched as he leaned over the rails. His shoulders dropped from a long sigh. Without hesitation, he swiped his hand in the air changing into his infamous Doctor Strange attire. You swore his cape gave you a small wave before Stephen flew over the ledge. 

You probably had the worst date of your entire life. You were going to kill Christine once she came back from her honeymoon next week. Who even takes a three week long honeymoon? I guess someone who rarely gets a vacation. You needed a vacation after the events of tonight, that's for sure. 

Before the wedding was over, Christine pulled you aside and demanded you tell her what was wrong after watching your interaction with Stephen. She noticed something was up since the rehearsal. 

You tried to tell her not to worry about it, but she insisted. So you told her you made a declaration not to see Stephen Strange in any intimate setting ever again. Christine seemed upset, the first time you had seen her frown on her wedding day. A pang of guilt crept inside. That was precisely why you didn’t want to talk about it with her. 

“Y/n, I wish you saw the way he looks at you. He’s holding it back. He just needs a little push.” 

You bit your bottom lip, trying to prevent any tears. “I’m tired of carrying all the weight of pushing.” 

Christine gave you a sympathetic smile. Her hand placed on your shoulder. “I’m proud of you. You deserve only the best.” 

Apparently the best was Charlie's semi-attractive second cousin, Simon. You shuddered thinking about him. For one, he was twenty-three minutes and twelve seconds late to the movie— which you paid for everything. After the movie you went to a café and the entire time he talked. It wasn’t a bad thing, but you believe the only thing you were able to get out was how your day had been. Then his phone rang and rang and rang until you finally told him to answer it. Turns out, Charlie’s second cousin, Simon, is going through a divorce. Yet, he’s still sleeping with his future ex-wife. Information you had wished Christine had told you before you wasted five hours of your Saturday. 

You debated on taking Cathy’s advice last Tuesday when you had lunch with her and Minnie. “Girl, get Tinder!” 

You’ve had it before, and you had plenty of suitors, but there was always that queasy feeling of not knowing anyone’s true intentions. For nearly a year you’ve felt like an object of sexual desires and relief. All you wished for was something real. As pathetic as it sounded, you wanted a boyfriend. You wanted someone who would greet you with a kiss. Someone who would hold your hand as you walked down the street as you pointed at ridiculously priced objects in stores that you would buy if you were a millionaire. You wanted someone who would take you to gatherings with friends and let you sit on their lap as you talked. You wanted someone who would talk about the possibility of marriage and kids while sitting in your sunshine mimosa bubble bath. You wanted it all. Worst of all, you wanted it with Stephen Strange. 

You groaned at the large thunderclap followed by the pitter patter of rain splashing on you. Passersby put up their umbrellas. Guess you should look at the radar more often. Damn the New York mentality that it’s not far of a walk instead of taking a cab. The rain started to pick up and it was difficult to see. 

By the time you made it to your apartment, you were drenched head to toe. Your clothes clung to your body uncomfortably. A nice hot bubble bath sounded amazing. As soon as you closed and locked your front door you started to kick shoes off. You unbuttoned your blue jean shorts so you could shimmy out of them. You barely got the zipper down when you realized a figure stood outside your balcony. 

At first you were scared and ducked behind your couch to call 911, but the longer you looked at the person, the more you recognized them. Stephen slouched over the railing. A charcoal gray shirt clung to his body along with dark navy blue trousers. If it had been any other person you would yell at them to get out, yet you found yourself joining him outside, leaning over the railing and  avoiding eye contact. You were thankful the rain was blocked from the awning above you. 

“I heard how you saved the world, once again.” You bit your bottom lip, chewing it lightly. 

He grunted. “I wouldn’t really call it that.” 

“Then what would you call it?” You turned your head so you could see him. His hair was slicked back and face clean shaven. It kind of made you upset he didn’t look like shit. Maybe he didn’t miss you as much as you missed him. 

His eyes didn’t meet yours as he looked off. “It’s my job.” 

“One hell of a job, then. Do you get health insurance? Is there an underground superhero hospital?” 

Stephen let out a laugh. A real laugh that formed in the pit of his belly all the way up. He turned to you, leaning on his left arm against the railing. You couldn’t help your eyes that flickered to a sliver of his exposed skin as his shirt rode up. “Yes, I passed Thor Odinson getting a colonoscopy.” 

You snorted. “Do you miss it?” 

“Miss what?” His furrowed eyebrows unwrinkled when he realized what you meant. He glanced down at his right hand.  “It’s always hard to let go of something you love.” 

You didn’t answer him but you agreed.

“I guess that’s why it’s difficult to let go of you, Y/n.” His statement was casual and smooth like honey. You scoffed, turned away from him and shook your head to face him again. 

There was no hesitation as he looked you in the eyes, a serious look painted his face. Did he get closer? Or have your bodies only been inches apart this entire time? There was hope he wasn’t able to hear your heart pounding against your chest as if it were trying to escape your chest. “That’s not funny.” The words came out barely a whisper. 

He tilted his head, giving you a pointed look. “I didn’t tell you a joke.” 

“I think it’s time for you to go home, Stephen.” The prank he was trying to pull was the lowest of lows. He has used you for months and now he was trying to make awful attempts to toy with you. You wondered if he was a sociopath with no consideration of how his actions made you feel. Or maybe he was a psychopath and knew, and got off on it. Either way, you made a promise to yourself that you didn’t intend on breaking. 

“We have a kid.” This man sounded insane. You should probably run inside and block him from everything, but then again, he’s battled aliens. Him saying you have a child with him was not the craziest phrase that has come out of his mouth. “Technically two. A boy and girl. Also, technically in another multiverse.” He shrugged. 

“You really are testing the waters.” You turned around to go in. “Just go home. I don’t want to hear it.” 

“Their names are Adalina and Ben.” He called after you. Stopping dead in your tracks, hand hovering the doorknob you took a sharp breath in. There had only been one conversation about children between the two of you. It only contained two sentences. In one sentence you asked if he wanted to have children, and the second sentence he answered no. The subject was dropped and never brought up again, until now. So how the hell did Stephen Strange know two names you’ve always wanted to give your children if you had any? Turning around, you crossed your arms across your chest. Your face told him to continue but he was on thin ice. 

“I became a surgeon because I believed I loved saving people. But, an old friend of mine made me realize I never wanted to save them in good heart. I loved having life at the control of my fingertips and every move I made manipulated it into the outcome I wanted.

“It was easy because those people were only part of a game to me. It didn’t matter if they lived or died because it only meant I got better at my job. In a way it’s the same with having super powers. But, if I cared enough about a person… if I love them. What would I do if they were gone forever? I can’t stop death and it terrifies me. It terrifies me if I lose you, especially since I’m in love with you, Y/n.” 

A tear rolled down your cheek. Never in your time you’ve known him have you been able to crack his surface. There were a million questions racking your brain. “There’s another me in another universe?” 

He nodded. “Every single other me has made the mistake of not recognizing your value. I came here tonight, Y/n, to tell you that I need you.” His voice cracked. He stepped closer to you. “I wasn’t sure what loving someone felt like. How could I love when I don’t feel worthy of it myself? Yet, when I’m away from you my heart stops.” There was only enough room to put a ruler between the two of you… one of those bendy rulers you used to beg your mom to buy for school. 

“What does your heart do when I’m around?” You asked, batting your eyes ever so innocently. 

Stephen softly grabbed your hand, pulling you closer. He placed it on top of his chest. His heart greeted you as it thumped rapidly against his chest. “I’ve tried to ignore that for a year. I’m sorry.” He whispered. 

You slid your hand from his chest to his cheek, placing your lips tenderly onto his, letting him know you forgave him. 

“I love you.” He muttered onto your lips. It tingled like those words were laced with electricity and shocked you. He placed his hand at the back of your neck and pulled you into a long fervent kiss. Both your hands explored their way to his hair, which you tangled around your fingers, messing it up. Lightly tugging, he released a moan from the back of his throat. You bucked your hips, feeling the hard member forming. Quick feverish kisses trailed the side of your face to the nape of your neck. “You’re wet.” 

“Not yet, but I’m getting there.” You groaned. 

He chuckled. “No, I meant your clothes are drenched.” 

“Oh, right. I was going to change…” You tried to finish your sentence but he had pushed you against the door, his leg between your thighs allowing it to rub the right spot. His hand slipped under your drenched shirt and grabbed your breast, a gasp escaped your lips.

“I need you, Y/n.” He sighed. 

“Out here?” You moaned as his teeth latched your exposed collar bone, sprouting a rosy bloom.

“We’ve done it everywhere else, why not?” 

You rolled your eyes in disbelief. “You just proclaimed your love to me and now you believe you can show it to me on the balcony… where my neighbors could see us? Not exactly romantic.” 

“I plan on a lifetime of showing you.” He took both of his hands to your ass and picked you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist, lips meeting once again. “But now, I need you right now.” With one arm wrapped around you, Stephen pulled your shirt off. He carried you to a reclining deck chair you had out there where he sat down so you could straddle him. Fortunately, the chair was all the way down from the last time you laid on it. 

Between kisses, you helped him take off his shirt. New fresh cuts were formed on his chest. You assumed it was from his recent adventure. He let you examine the wounds, carefully running your fingers over them. Your hand fell down and began palming him. In the meantime, Stephen leaned forward to nuzzle his face in your neck. His heavy hot breaths tickled you, giving you goosebumps. He unclasped your bra sometime because his fingers pinched your nipple. “Take your pants off.” The order came unexpectedly from you, nevertheless, you moved out of the way so you could help him pull his pants down and discard them. You frowned that he had decided to wear underwear this time. No time to pout. Your hands rushed to the waistband of his underwear. Stephen moved back out of your reach. “Why do you always do that?” 

“Why are you always impatient?”

“Usually guys don’t refuse blowjobs from me.” You crossed your arms to sulk. 

He ran his fingers through his hair. “My dear, only if you could imagine what you do to me.”

“I could say the same to you.” 

“Yes, but there’s a major difference between the two of us.” He began unbuttoning your shorts, shimmying them down your legs so you stood in your purple lace panties. He looked up at you, licking his lips. “You are able to come undone.” He thumbed you through the fabric, smiling as you let out a sharp breath. “And undone…” He leaned over to kiss your hip while still massaging you. “Your pretty mouth around me wouldn’t let me last twenty seconds.”

You reached for his boxers again. “Then give me nineteen.”

He allowed you to pull them off, springing free, throbbing at the sight of you. You gripped his bare thighs to allow your body to kneel in front of him. His eyes were dark and dangerous as he watched you grab his base, twitching under your fingers. Your lips tenderly kissed his shaft making your mouth to the head, carefully popping it in. Stephen hissed as your head bobbed up and down taking him in and out. Your mouth, hand and tongue worked together to explore every inch of him. By reflex, he bucked his hips from the relief, making him push further into your mouth. His hand gripped your shoulder, most likely will leave a mark for tomorrow. You took as much of him in as you could until you couldn’t breathe. Looking up, you saw his head thrown back as if he was begging God for mercy. Low rich moans escaped his cupid bow lips. They looked delicious. 

You released him from your mouth. He looked down to see why the sudden lack of warmth. However, he didn’t have to ask since your lips that were once around him now attacked his own in a deep heated kiss. He slowly pulled you down on top of him. “That was only seventeen seconds.” 

“Didn’t realize you were keeping count.” His fingers curled the band of your panties, helping you slip out of them. You straddled him, grinding your hips to revel in the satisfaction as you caused friction to your swollen clit. “Don’t worry, I plan on making up for the lost time.” You both knew you didn’t mean the two seconds. 

You reached down to grab him, guiding it to your entrance. From your soaking core and the slick salvia still on him, you slid onto his length with ease. Groans slipped both of your lips as you lifted yourself up and sank back down. Many times before, you’ve wanted to savour every thrust, kiss, touch. It always felt like there was no promise you two would be flush together the next day. This time, however, felt much different. Knowing he loves you sent a thrill of electricity into your core as you two worked together to bury himself as far as possible inside you. He pulled you in, leading a kiss with his tongue, sliding it in your open mouth. His moans as you ground your hips vibrated your body, digging your nails into his chest as you pushed yourself up to change the angle. 

Stephen propped himself up with his right hand and ran his hand up your thigh so he could grab hold of your hip. “Why were you dressed so nice today?” 

You angled forward— a small cry came from both of you. “Does it matter?” He narrowed his eyes, bucking his hips so he could hit the right spot when he thrusted into you. You whined when he slowed his pace, punishing you for not telling him what you did today. “I went… on a date. Don’t give me that look. It was terrible. He didn’t even buy dessert.” 

Stephen rolled his eyes, palming your breast as he picked the rhythm back to the way it was before. “I can get you dessert after this if you want.” 

“Are you really asking me on a date while inside of me?” He started to hit that spot again. Your eyes began to water as the overwhelming currents of pleasure and relief pumped through you. 

“Is that not what boyfriends do?” He was being arrogant, a smug look on his face that you wanted to smack off of him. 

“Since when did you become my boyfriend?” He directed you to turn around, and so you did. The new angle and direction gave him access to hit the spot in a new way. 

His arm wrapped around your chest and cupped your breast. You guided his other hand to rub the sensitive area between your folds. Your moans became louder. “When you became my girlfriend.” 

You were glad you faced away from him so he couldn’t see your bashful face. Yet, it didn’t matter, because he knew. He let out a small chuckle and placed a tender kiss on your shoulder. You reached behind to place your hand on his head, leaning your own in his neck. Your throat now exposed and vulnerable he nipped and licked a tender spot, over and over until you sighed his name. “Y’n, I’m…” His moans sounded agonizing. If he didn’t release himself now, he would die. 

You bit your lip, picking yourself and dropping onto him. “Fuck, Y/n.” He muttered into your ear.

Your walls tightened against him, you couldn’t take it anymore. “Oh my god…” One last thrust and your core swelled like a balloon and popped all over him. Your head fell further back as you cried out from the heated pressure you released. You panted as you felt him twitch, filling himself inside you. 

Stephen slipped out of you, but continued to hold your bare body, placing kisses up and down your arm. “I know a great frozen yogurt place a few blocks away.” 

“I don’t think I’ll be able to walk.” You flipped back around so you could drape your arms over his shoulders, soft playful pecks on his face. “Do they have toppings?” 

“Lots.” His hands ran up and down your back. 

“Do you think I have time to take a bath? I was going to take one when I got home, but I got sidetracked.” 

“Take all the time you need.” He hummed into your lips. 

You got up from your spot, trekking back into the apartment. You glanced over your shoulder, watching him put his underwear back on. A smile painted his face from ear to ear. You turned back around and looked at yourself in the reflection of the window. Your hair tousled and still wet from the rain, rosy blooms sprouted over your neck and breasts. Things you’ve seen before after a nice time with Stephen Strange, but there was something different. Now, there seemed to be a twinkle that shone in your eyes.

[greengoblinswifey]

Never thought I would be foaming at the mouth over defender strange's corpse but hear me out...

[skelswritingcorner]

Marvel Rivals Characters + Reader w/ Endometriosis (Dr. Strange, Iron Fist, Human Torch, Jeff the Land Shark)

Greetings, Marvel Rivals fans of Tumblr. This somewhat comprehensible word soup is based on something I often do when I get invested in something I like enough: Make characters (especially male characters) witness the horrors of endometriosis. I have this condition myself, and these fics are written as a way to both practice my writing and to help bring awareness to this condition.

If you suspect that you or someone you know has endometriosis or a similar condition, please consult an OB/GYN. I am not a medical professional, just some combination college student and Vtuber who has the condition. It's what your blorbo would want.

These can read as either platonic or romantic. Except for Jeff, his is to be read like a cat who knows you're in pain and is barreling into you to give comfort.

DISCLAIMER: This is written under the assumption that these characters are cisgender, and therefore don't have first-hand experience with menstruation.

Warnings: Menstruation, endometriosis

DR. STRANGE

Being a former surgeon, he likely performed a hysterectomy at least once. And likely knows what an endometriosis-ridden body looks like (Look it up on your own risk, it looks… just yikes). Because of this likely experience of his, he knows about the impacts endometriosis has on the body. And he is concerned.

Dr. Strange will likely have you stay at the Sanctum Sanctorum for the time being, so that he can keep a close eye on you.

“I’ve once operated on someone with your affliction,” he places a cup of herbal tea on the table next to you, “I’ve seen how the body is affected. And yet, this is the first time I’ve witnessed someone being affected by it.”

And that wouldn’t be a lie. As he was a surgeon, he rarely saw the symptoms of the patients he operated on. He knew that they were being affected, but only the body. Witnessing you curled up in fetal position, trying your damndest to not audibly sob from the pain, it breaks his heart in a way he never expected it to break.

While Dr. Strange can’t assist medically, he can at least give emotional support. Be there for you. Need menstrual products? He’ll open up a portal to the store to get some for you if you need any. Bats will be there too for extra emotional support. Sometimes, you just need a pet for comfort. Even if the comfort is coming from a ghost dog.

Dr. Strange will keep you with him for at least a day or two. If anyone asks? “They’re suffering, and I cannot in good conscience leave Y/N alone with their pain. Especially when I’ve seen how their condition affects their organs firsthand.”

When you’re recovered enough that he no longer needs to keep a consistent eye, Dr. Strange will try to persuade you to go to a medical professional if you haven’t already. And if you have and they dismissed your concerns? Go to another one. He likely still has some connections to people in the medical field, so he might be able to find an OB/GYN for you.

IRON FIST

When he sees you in pain, he is originally confident in his ability to help. “Don’t worry Y/N, I’m the Immortal Iron Fist. This is nothing!” He says, not knowing what he’s doing at all. Whatsoever.

It’s likely that he didn’t have many people close to him that menstruate, so he’s just floundering around while keeping up a confident facade. Said facade quickly breaks, as he confesses that he genuinely does not know what he’s doing within an hour.

Even though Iron Fist does not know what to do at first, he at least tries to help. Then proceeds to call Luna Snow to ask her about what he should do, because this poor man does not know what to do. He thought he could figure it out by himself, but he quickly realizes that he doesn’t know dick or shit regarding menstruation or endometriosis.

With some pointers from Luna, he gathers stuff that might be able to alleviate the pain or distract from it and proceeds to put you in a blanket burrito to the best of his ability. In reality, he just dumps several blankets on top of you.

Most of Lie’s logic around what he does to help is based on what he knows helps him with his pain, or whenever he got sick when he was younger. Brewing an herbal tea, making you Luo Song Tang (Shanghai-style red vegetable soup) if he has the time, if not just egg drop soup of some variety. Over time he gets better, but for now he’s confused.

Once you’re able to explain your condition, he just frowns. Can he… punch the endometriosis out with his Iron Fist powers? Actually, no, that’s ridiculous. Guess Lin Lie has to settle on helping you every once in a while.

HUMAN TORCH

“Hey sweet stuff, are you ready for sOH GOD WHAT IS GOING ON?” is the first thing that comes out of this twink’s mouth when he sees you. Then he quickly zooms over to you to see whatever’s going on. When he realizes that you’re on your period, he’s going to tilt his head. He’s seen his sister on her period, and she was never in that much pain. Johnny makes the connection that something’s deeply wrong, but he likely says nothing other than “Stay there, oh who am I kidding you’re probably stuck there, I need to call someone.”

Who does he call, you may ask? Sue Storm. He just calls his sister. Who else was he gonna call, Reed? Reed might be his brother-in-law, but he doesn’t have the first-hand experience that Susan does. Susan, for the record, answers all of his questions. Likely secretly proud that her little brother cares enough about someone that he’s seeking advice.

When he gets the advice from his sister, he kicks into high gear to get you whatever you need. Fire may be involved, but he will resist the urge to flame on. Pads? Tampons? Ibuprofen? Blanket hoard? He’s gotchu. He’ll even use his hands as a makeshift heating pad if you’re cool (heh) with it.

He’s gonna call you a ketchup packet, but he does so affectionately. Unlike Moon Knight, who says it like an insult. Fuck you, Marc.

Once you aren’t in bedridden pain, Johnny’s going to barrel a bunch of questions at you. Mostly about what in the world could cause cramps that painful. When he finds out that it’s because of a condition affecting the uterus and other organs, his face scrunches. “Shouldn’t there be a cure for that by now?” he asks, and when you say that there isn’t, he just says, “Bummer. There should be one. Maybe I can ask Reed, he’s smart. He could find one in uh… a month?”

He is being 100% serious with this, by the way. Even if you say that it wouldn’t be necessary, he’s probably gonna do it anyway. First, he’s going to focus on taking care of you. Then he’ll ask his brother-in-law if he can find a cure for endometriosis.

JEFF THE LAND SHARK

He might not be able to speak to you without someone else to translate on his behalf, but the moment he sees you… he knows something is wrong. Jeff is a shark, he knows the smell of blood. This little dude will jump to your side, likely try to use some of his healing powers on you. It doesn’t do much other than make your face wet. Quickly, he realizes that this isn’t something he can heal. So the most he can do is give you emotional support in this very sucky time.

Jeff will approach with a mrrrr, like he usually does, and plop himself on your stomach. Or on your head. Or place himself on your side. If you try to move him away, or if someone tries to coax Jeff to leave you, he’s going to growl. He’s not leaving you unless he absolutely has to.

He even follows you to the bathroom whenever you need to use the toilet or change menstrual products. He even investigates the products by sniffing them if you allow it.

Given enough time, Jeff might be able to tell when you’re about to start your period based on smell alone. When he figures that it’s near, he starts clinging to you more and more, and when it arrives he’s essentially locked at your hip. With the few people he knows can understand him, he likely informs them too. Jeff is just a good boy all around.

~~~

Bluesky | Twitch (on hiatus) | Kofi | Vgen |

[babymangosworld]

Me when y/n is acting like a little fucking child for male validation

[duvetfawn]

Through Shadows and Sorcery

- Masterlist

INTRODUCTION: The Eye of Vortessa was a relic of unimaginable power, sought by a rogue sorcerer threatening reality itself. Doctor Stephen Strange needed your expertise to decode its secrets. What began as a high-stakes pursuit soon blurred the lines between duty and desire, forcing both of you to confront the dangers outside—and within.

PAIRING: Dr. Strange x fem!reader

WARNINGS: SMUT, MDNI, oral sex, vaginal sex, different positions, etc. + fluff and a bit of angst

WORD COUNT: 6k

A/N: Here's the one-shot I was talking about! Thank you for all the likes and reposts of my previous works. Sorry about grammar mistakes (if there are any). Enjoy your reading!

The relic pulsed on the table like a living thing, faint green tendrils of energy swirling within its crystal-clear surface. You could feel its pull from across the room, an eerie hum that resonated deep in your chest. You couldn’t decide if the sensation was alluring or unnerving.

“It’s been centuries since anyone’s seen the Eye of Vortessa in the physical realm,” you said, your fingers itching to examine it more closely. “How did you find it?”

“I didn’t. It found me,” Doctor Stephen Strange replied, his voice carrying that same arrogant tilt you’d come to expect from him. He leaned casually against a chair, his hands folded across his chest, the crimson Cloak of Levitation draped like a king’s mantle over his broad shoulders.

“Cryptic,” you muttered, earning a faint smirk from him.

The two of you were an unlikely pairing. A brilliant, if infuriating, sorcerer who held the title of Sorcerer Supreme, and you—a historian-turned-sorceress from Kamar-Taj, specializing in arcane artifacts. You’d been called to the Sanctum Sanctorum when it became clear that even Strange was struggling to contain the relic’s growing power.

He hadn’t been thrilled to have you there.

“I work alone,” he’d said on the first day, a dismissive flick of his hand emphasizing the point.

“And yet, you called for help,” you’d shot back, meeting his sharp blue gaze with a defiance that clearly surprised him.

Since then, your days had been consumed by long hours of research, deciphering ancient texts, and debating theories with a man who both fascinated and infuriated you.

Over the next few days, you immersed yourself in the Eye’s history. The relic’s carvings hinted at a dark purpose—its ability to amplify emotions and desires was only the beginning. In the wrong hands, it could manipulate entire realities, bending minds to its will.

“It’s a trap,” you concluded one evening, pushing a book across the table toward Strange.

He glanced at the page, his brow furrowing. “How so?”

“It doesn’t just amplify emotions. It feeds on them. The more unstable the wielder, the stronger it becomes.”

Strange’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Then we’ll have to destroy it.”

“Easier said than done,” you replied. “The last recorded attempt ended with three sorcerers dead and the Eye fully intact.”

“Sounds like a challenge,” he said, his tone almost flippant.

You glared at him. “This isn’t a joke, Strange. If we get this wrong—”

“I don’t get things wrong,” he interrupted, his voice sharp.

The tension crackled between you, and for a moment, you forgot the relic, the case, and everything else. His eyes locked onto yours, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

“Fine,” you said, breaking the silence. “But we need more information.”

The answer lay in the rift.

The Eye’s power had created a tear in the fabric of reality, a swirling vortex of chaotic energy that connected to an unknown dimension. You and Strange agreed to investigate, though you couldn’t shake the feeling that the plan was reckless at best.

“It’s like staring into the void,” you murmured as you approached the rift with Strange at your side.

He glanced at you, his expression unusually serious. “Stay close to me.”

You nodded, casting a protective spell as he opened the portal. The sensation was immediate—a rush of power and emotion that made your head spin. It felt like the rift was reaching into your very soul, pulling at your deepest fears and desires.

“Don’t let it control you,” Strange said, his voice cutting through the noise.

Easier said than done. The rift amplified everything—the anger you’d felt during your arguments with Strange, the frustration at his arrogance, and the unsettling attraction you’d been trying to ignore since you’d arrived.

The mission was nearly disastrous. You managed to collect a fragment of the rift’s energy, but the process destabilized the vortex, forcing you and Strange to retreat.

Back in the Sanctum, you collapsed into a chair, your heart racing. “That was insane,” you said, glaring at him.

Strange ran a hand through his hair, his own breathing uneven. “You’re welcome.”

“For what? Dragging me into your reckless plans?”

“For saving your life,” he shot back, stepping closer. “Or did you forget the part where I shielded you from the blast?”

You stood, your frustration bubbling over. “And whose fault was the blast in the first place?”

“You don’t know when to quit, do you?” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

“Neither do you,” you retorted, your pulse quickening as he stepped even closer.

The tension snapped.

Before you could think, his lips were on yours, fierce and demanding. You gasped, your hands instinctively gripping the front of his tunic as he deepened the kiss. His hands were firm on your waist, pulling you against him as the world blurred around you.

The kiss was electric, every pent-up emotion spilling out in a clash of lips and tongues. When he pulled back, his blue eyes were darker than you’d ever seen, his breathing ragged.

“Fuck,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

You were too stunned to speak, your body still tingling from the intensity of the kiss.

“This… complicates things,” he said, his voice strained.

“You think?” you managed, your voice unsteady.

You stood there, your breathing still unsteady, replaying the kiss in your mind. Stephen Strange—the arrogant, insufferable Sorcerer Supreme—had just kissed you. And you had kissed him back.

He was pacing now, running a hand through his hair as though trying to shake off the moment. His eyes flicked to the Eye of Vortessa, still pulsing faintly on the table, as if mocking both of you.

“This is the relic’s influence,” he said finally, his voice strained. “It has to be.”

You crossed your arms, forcing yourself to focus on the case instead of the way his lips had felt against yours. “The Eye may amplify emotions, but it doesn’t create them. If there was nothing there to begin with…”

He froze mid-step, his sharp blue eyes locking onto yours. The silence that followed was suffocating, heavy with unspoken words.

“We can’t afford distractions,” he said at last, his tone colder now, though his gaze lingered on you a moment too long.

“Agreed,” you replied, though your voice wavered.

Still, the moment hung between you, refusing to fade.

Over the next few days, you threw yourself into the research, determined to find a way to neutralize the Eye of Vortessa. But it was harder now, with Strange constantly in your orbit. Every glance, every touch—no matter how innocent—felt charged, as though the relic’s influence was amplifying the growing connection between you.

He was distant, even brusque at times, clearly trying to maintain control. Yet, there were moments when his guard slipped—when his hand would linger on yours during a spell, or when his voice softened as he asked for your input.

The tension came to a head during another late-night study session. The Sanctum was quiet, save for the crackling fire in the corner. You were bent over a text, trying to decipher a particularly cryptic passage, when you felt his presence behind you.

“Find anything?” he asked, his voice close to your ear.

You jumped slightly, his proximity sending a shiver down your spine. “Nothing useful,” you managed, refusing to turn around.

“Let me see,” he said, leaning over your shoulder.

His breath was warm against your neck, and you cursed the way your body reacted. He was too close, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to move.

“Strange…” you began, but your voice trailed off as his hand brushed yours, the touch searing.

“Stop,” he said suddenly, pulling back.

You turned to face him, startled by the raw emotion in his expression. His jaw was tight, his fists clenched at his sides as though he was holding himself back.

“This is getting out of hand,” he said, his voice low. “I can’t think straight when I’m around you.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding. “Maybe it’s the Eye—”

“It’s not just the Eye,” he interrupted, his eyes blazing.

The confession hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you moved. Then, as if drawn by some unseen force, you closed the distance between you.

The kiss this time was slower, more deliberate. His hands cupped your face, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that made your chest ache. You melted into him, your arms wrapping around his neck as the tension of the past few days finally gave way.

He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged. “You’re driving me mad,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t reply, too caught up in the way his hands slid down to your waist, holding you as though he never wanted to let go.

“Tell me to stop,” he said, his blue eyes searching yours.

“I won’t,” you whispered, pulling him back to you.

The path to his room was a fever dream of heat and tension. Every step was punctuated by the press of his body against yours, the scrape of his teeth along your neck, and the firm grip of his hands on your hips. The Sanctum’s corridors blurred around you, irrelevant in the face of the fire that burned between you both.

By the time you reached his chambers, Stephen spun you around, your back hitting the door with a soft thud. His eyes, dark and wild, searched yours, but no words were exchanged. His lips were on you in an instant, claiming yours with a hunger that made your knees weak. His kiss was demanding, almost bruising, as though he’d been holding back for far too long.

His hands slid up your thighs, his fingertips digging in just enough to leave a ghost of a mark. “You’ve been teasing me all damn day,” he growled against your lips, his voice thick with restrained desire.

You smirked, emboldened by the effect you had on him. “And what are you going to do about it?”

His answering grin was dark, wicked, as his hands moved to the sash of your robe. With one swift motion, he untied it, letting the fabric fall away and leaving you bare before him. His sharp intake of breath was the only sound in the room for a moment, his eyes drinking you in.

“God, you’re stunning,” he murmured, his voice almost reverent.

You reached for his tunic, pulling it up and over his head, revealing the lean, sculpted planes of his chest. His skin was pale, faint scars from battles long past etched into his body like a story written in flesh. You traced one with your fingers, marveling at the strength beneath your touch.

“Like what you see?” he teased, his smirk returning as his hands slid to your waist.

You met his gaze, your lips quirking upward. “I’m not complaining.”

His laugh was low and dark, but it was quickly silenced as he bent to kiss you again, slower this time, as if savoring the moment. His hands explored your body, every curve, every dip, every inch of skin that made you gasp under his touch.

Before you could process his next move, he dropped to his knees, his hands parting your thighs with a firm but gentle insistence. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, his gaze smoldering as his lips pressed to the inside of your thigh.

“Stephen…” You breathed his name, your voice trembling with anticipation.

“Say it again,” he commanded, his tone rough as his lips trailed higher.

You barely managed to repeat his name before his mouth was on you, his tongue drawing slow, deliberate strokes that made you cry out. He groaned against you, the vibration sending another jolt of pleasure through your body. His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he worked, alternating between flicks of his tongue and gentle suction that had you trembling.

When he added his fingers—sliding inside you with expert precision—you nearly came undone. He curled them just right, hitting a spot that made stars explode behind your eyes.

“Fuck, Stephen, don’t stop,” you gasped, your hands threading through his dark hair.

He didn’t stop. He doubled down, his tongue and fingers moving in perfect rhythm until you shattered, your cries echoing through the room. Your legs threatened to give out, but his hands held you firm, guiding you through every wave of pleasure until you were left trembling in his arms.

He pulled back, his lips glistening as he smirked up at you. “You taste fucking incredible,” he said, his voice hoarse.

You barely had time to recover before he stood, his hands helping you to your knees.

“My turn,” he said, his voice a low growl.

You reached for him eagerly, your fingers wrapping around him as you stroked, feeling him throb under your touch. His head tilted back, a groan escaping his lips as you leaned forward, your tongue flicking out to tease him before taking him fully into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his hand tangling in your hair. “Just like that.”

You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper, relishing the way his body tensed under your touch. His hips rocked forward slightly, and you steadied yourself with your hands on his thighs, your nails digging in just enough to leave faint crescent marks.

“God, you’re so fucking good at this,” he groaned, his voice breaking as you worked him with deliberate, steady movements.

Before he could reach his peak, he pulled you away, his breaths ragged as he guided you back to your feet.

“Come here,” he demanded, his voice soft but commanding.

He guided you onto the bed, his body covering yours as he kissed you deeply, the taste of both of you mingling on his lips. His hands slid down your body, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. When he finally entered you, it was slow, deliberate, as though he wanted you to feel every inch of him.

You gasped, your nails digging into his back as he set a steady rhythm, his movements controlled but intense. “You feel so fucking good,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours.

The pace quickened, his thrusts deep and deliberate as his name spilled from your lips in a broken cry. He shifted slightly, angling his hips to hit a spot that made your entire body arch into his.

“God, Stephen…” you gasped, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

He flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up as he entered you from behind. His hands gripped your waist, his thrusts rougher now, each one driving you closer to the edge.

“You like this?” he growled, leaning down to kiss the back of your neck.

“Yes,” you cried, your voice trembling. “Don’t stop.”

He didn’t. He reached around to tease you, his fingers working in tandem with his thrusts until you shattered again, your body trembling as you cried out his name.

He pulled you up, your back flush against his chest as he slowed his movements, his lips trailing over your shoulder. “I’m not done with you yet,” he whispered, his voice dark and seductive.

He laid you back on the bed, his hands guiding your legs to wrap around his waist as he moved over you. This time, his movements were slower, more deliberate, as if he wanted to savor every moment.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice soft but commanding.

Your eyes locked onto his, and the intensity of his gaze was enough to make your breath catch. His hands intertwined with yours, pinning them above your head as he moved, his rhythm building again until you were both on the edge.

When you finally fell together, the pleasure was overwhelming, leaving you both trembling and breathless as the world seemed to fall away.

The room was silent save for the sounds of your intertwined breaths slowly evening out. Stephen’s body hovered above yours for a moment longer, as though he couldn’t quite bring himself to pull away. His forehead rested against yours, and his hand brushed a few damp strands of hair from your face.

“You’re… incredible,” he murmured, his voice low and raw. His lips curved into a small, almost shy smile—a rare crack in the confident mask he wore so effortlessly.

You exhaled a breathy laugh, your hand trailing lazily down his back. “I could say the same about you, Doctor.”

Stephen rolled onto his side, pulling you with him so you were tucked against his chest. His arms enveloped you, his hands large and warm as they traced absent patterns along your spine. You could feel his heartbeat still racing against your cheek.

“Did you expect this?” you asked softly, tilting your head up to look at him.

He smirked, his fingers pausing their lazy exploration to brush your jaw. “No,” he admitted, his tone honest. “I’ve spent so long avoiding this kind of… connection. It complicates things.”

“Do you regret it?”

His gaze darkened slightly, not with anger but with something deeper—something unspoken. He tilted your chin up, his thumb brushing across your lower lip. “No,” he said firmly. “Not for a second.”

A comfortable silence fell between you, the weight of what had just happened settling in the air. You traced the faint scars on his chest, following the lines as if they were a map.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, his voice soft.

“That you’ve lived a thousand lives,” you said, your fingers pausing over a particularly deep scar. “And yet you’re still here.”

He caught your hand, bringing it to his lips. “Because I’m too stubborn to quit.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine, and for a moment, the heaviness of the world outside the room seemed to fade.

But reality began creeping back in. The Sanctum wasn’t just a home—it was a fortress, a place of duty. And outside these walls, a threat still loomed.

As if reading your thoughts, Stephen’s expression sobered. He sat up slightly, propping himself on one arm as he looked down at you. “This isn’t over,” he said, his tone serious. “We still have to decipher the relic.”

You nodded, your mind already shifting back to the danger that had brought you here in the first place. “We definitely do.”

Stephen’s jaw tightened, the sharp angles of his face etched with determination. “We will,” he said, his voice resolute. “But for now…”

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was softer this time, less about urgency and more about grounding the moment. His hand cradled your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as if committing every detail of you to memory.

“For now,” he murmured against your lips, “let’s stay here. Just for a little longer.”

And you did. Wrapped in each other’s arms, the weight of the outside world momentarily held at bay, you allowed yourself to exist in the fleeting serenity of his presence. The fight would come soon enough, but for now, you were exactly where you needed to be.

When you woke, the morning light was streaming through the gaps in the heavy curtains of Stephen’s chambers, golden and warm. For a moment, everything felt blissfully suspended, like the world had paused just for the two of you.

Stephen was still beside you, propped up on one elbow, his bare chest catching the soft light. His sharp features were relaxed but contemplative as his gaze lingered on you. You smiled sleepily, reaching out to brush your fingers along the stubble on his jaw.

“Good morning,” you murmured.

He didn’t return the smile. Instead, his expression darkened, his eyes pulling away from yours. The shift was subtle but immediate, a wall rising where there had been none before.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, sitting up slightly, the sheet slipping down your body.

Stephen hesitated, his mouth opening and closing as though he couldn’t quite find the right words. Finally, he exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “This… was a mistake,” he said, his voice clipped and low.

The words struck like a blow, the warmth of the morning instantly replaced by a chill. “A mistake?” you repeated, incredulous. “You didn’t seem to think it was a mistake last night.”

“That was last night,” he snapped, then winced at his own tone. He rose from the bed, pulling on his pants and tunic with quick, jerky movements. His back was to you, the tension in his shoulders palpable.

You felt the heat of anger rising in your chest, cutting through the sting of his words. “So that’s it? You get what you want, and now you’re done?”

He spun around, his eyes flashing. “Don’t make it sound so simple. You know it’s more complicated than that.”

“Do I?” You stood, wrapping the sheet around you as you faced him. “Because all I see is a man who’s so afraid of letting someone in that he’d rather push them away than deal with his own feelings.”

Stephen’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he looked as though he might argue. But then he turned away again, his voice quieter this time. “I can’t afford distractions. And you… you deserve more than this.”

Your heart clenched, his words twisting the knife even deeper. “Don’t you dare try to make this sound noble,” you said, your voice trembling with anger. “If you wanted to push me away, just say so. But don’t pretend this is for my benefit.”

He didn’t respond, his silence saying more than words ever could. Frustrated and hurt, you grabbed your clothes, dressing quickly as tears threatened to spill.

“Fine,” you said, your voice icy. “If that’s what you want, then I’ll go. But don’t expect me to come running back when you realize what a mistake you’ve made.”

With that, you stormed out, slamming the door behind you.

The following days at the Sanctum were agonizing. You threw yourself into your research, determined to ignore Stephen’s presence entirely. The tension between you was palpable, the air in the Sanctum heavy with unspoken words and lingering glances.

Stephen avoided you, retreating into his work and barely speaking unless absolutely necessary. You could see the strain on his face, the shadows under his eyes growing darker with each passing day. But you refused to be the one to break the silence.

When Wong asked if something was wrong, you brushed it off with a forced smile. “Just a difference of opinion,” you said, though the words tasted bitter.

Stephen, for his part, seemed to unravel further. He became more irritable, snapping at Wong and pacing the Sanctum’s halls like a caged animal. You caught him watching you once, his gaze soft and almost apologetic, but when your eyes met, he quickly looked away.

The distance between you was unbearable, but your pride wouldn’t let you bridge the gap. If he wanted to fix this, he would have to be the one to make the first move.

It was late one night when the knock came at your door. You hesitated, your heart pounding as you considered ignoring it. But something in the quiet desperation of the sound made you rise.

When you opened the door, Stephen stood there, looking exhausted and vulnerable in a way you’d never seen before. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, he said nothing, as if he didn’t know where to begin.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

You crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe. “For what, exactly?”

“For being an idiot,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “For pushing you away. For hurting you.”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I was scared,” he admitted. “Of what this means. Of what you mean to me.”

Your resolve wavered at the raw honesty in his voice, but you weren’t ready to let him off the hook just yet. “And what do I mean to you, Stephen?”

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush yours. “Everything,” he said simply. “You mean everything.”

The anger and hurt you’d been holding onto melted away, replaced by a flood of relief and affection. You stepped aside, letting him in, and the moment the door closed, he pulled you into his arms.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmured, his lips brushing your temple.

“I’ve missed you too,” you admitted, your voice muffled against his chest.

He tilted your chin up, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was slow and tender, a stark contrast to the desperate passion of your first night together. His hands cupped your face as though you were something precious, his thumb brushing your cheek as he deepened the kiss.

Stephen’s lips moved against yours with a tenderness that made your heart ache. Gone was the frantic desperation of before; this kiss was deliberate, like he was trying to memorize every second, every sensation. His hands cradled your face as though you were something fragile, something he was terrified of breaking.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breaths coming in shallow pants. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered again, his voice trembling slightly. “For everything.”

You reached up, your fingers brushing against his jaw, feeling the faint stubble beneath your touch. “I know,” you murmured, your voice soft but steady. “But you can’t keep doing this, Stephen. You can’t keep pushing me away whenever things get hard.”

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might argue. But then he nodded, his hands slipping down to rest on your waist. “I won’t,” he said, his tone resolute. “I promise.”

The weight of his words hung in the air between you, heavy with unspoken meaning. Slowly, he guided you backward until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed. His hands were gentle as he lowered you onto the mattress, his body following yours in one fluid motion.

“I need you to understand something,” he said, his voice low as his fingers traced the curve of your cheek. “You’re not just someone I care about. You’ve become… essential to me. And that terrifies me.”

You reached up, threading your fingers through his dark hair. “You don’t have to be afraid,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His lips found yours again, and this time the kiss deepened, the tenderness giving way to a slow-burning passion. His hands roamed your body with reverence, his touch igniting a fire in your veins.

Stephen’s kisses trailed down your neck, each press of his lips sending shivers through your body. His hands found the hem of your shirt, tugging it upward until you lifted your arms to let him pull it off. His eyes darkened as they roamed over your bare skin, his lips curving into a soft smile.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You reached for his tunic, your fingers brushing against the fabric as you helped him pull it over his head. The sight of his bare chest—the lean muscles, the faint scars that marked his skin—made your breath hitch. You ran your hands over him, tracing the lines of his body with a mixture of curiosity and admiration.

Stephen’s lips found yours again as he lowered you back onto the bed, his hands moving to the waistband of your pants. He hesitated for a moment, his gaze meeting yours as if asking for permission. When you nodded, he slid them down, leaving you bare beneath him.

He paused, his eyes raking over your body with an intensity that made your cheeks flush. “You’re perfect,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your hands found the waistband of his pants, and he helped you push them down, leaving the two of you completely exposed. The weight of him above you, the warmth of his skin against yours, made your heart race.

Stephen kissed you again, his hands exploring every inch of your body. His touch was gentle, reverent, as though he was rediscovering you for the first time. His lips trailed down your neck, over your collarbone, and lower still, leaving a path of fire in their wake.

When he reached the apex of your thighs, he paused, his eyes meeting yours. “Tell me what you want,” he said, his voice a low growl.

Your breath hitched, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you. “I want you,” you whispered.

Stephen smirked, his lips brushing against your inner thigh. “You’ll have me,” he promised. “But not before I’ve had you.”

His mouth found you, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes that made your back arch off the bed. You cried out his name, your fingers threading through his hair as he worked, his hands holding your hips steady. He teased you relentlessly, alternating between flicks of his tongue and gentle suction that drove you to the edge.

When his fingers joined the fray, sliding inside you with practiced precision, you nearly came undone. He curled them just right, hitting a spot that made your vision blur.

“Stephen, please,” you gasped, your body trembling beneath him.

He pulled back, his lips glistening as he smirked up at you. “Patience,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

You didn’t have time to protest before he shifted, pulling you up so that you were straddling his lap. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you as you sank onto him, the sensation overwhelming.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head falling back as you began to move.

The rhythm started slow, his hands guiding your movements as your bodies found a perfect rhythm. His lips found yours again, the kiss messy and desperate as he whispered your name like a prayer.

The pace quickened, his hands roaming your body as he met each of your movements with a thrust of his own. You cried out his name, your nails digging into his shoulders as he flipped you onto your back.

He moved over you with a precision that spoke to his meticulous nature, his thrusts deep and deliberate. Every movement, every touch, was calculated to bring you as much pleasure as possible.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice rough as his hands gripped your thighs.

Your eyes met his, and the intensity of his gaze was enough to make your breath catch. His hand found yours, intertwining your fingers as he pressed your hands into the mattress above your head.

“You’re mine,” he growled, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

When you finally fell, the pleasure was overwhelming, your body trembling as his name spilled from your lips. He followed moments later, his body tensing above yours as he let out a hoarse cry.

The room was quiet now, save for the soft hum of your mingled breaths. Stephen’s body was still pressed against yours, his weight comforting rather than heavy. The warmth of his skin blanketed you, and the faint sheen of sweat on both your bodies caught the dim light filtering through the Sanctum’s heavy drapes.

Stephen’s face was buried in the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your skin. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence heavy with meaning. His arms tightened around you slightly, as though afraid you might slip away if he let go.

Your fingers moved lazily across the broad expanse of his back, tracing the lines of his muscles and the faint scars that marked his skin. “You’re quiet,” you said softly, your voice breaking the stillness.

He lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours. The usual sharpness in his gaze was softened now, replaced by something tender and unguarded. “I’m thinking,” he admitted, his voice hoarse but steady.

“About what?”

He hesitated, his thumb brushing absentmindedly over your hip. “About how close I came to losing this. To losing you.”

Your chest tightened at his words, and you reached up to cup his face, your fingers brushing against the faint stubble on his jaw. “You didn’t lose me, Stephen,” you said firmly. “I’m here.”

“For now,” he murmured, his gaze flickering down. “But I’ve learned the hard way that nothing stays forever. People leave. Or I drive them away.”

You frowned, your heart aching for him. “I’m not going anywhere,” you said, your tone resolute. “And you’re not going to drive me away. Not unless you push me.”

His lips twitched into a faint, self-deprecating smile. “That’s what I’m good at, isn’t it? Pushing people away.”

“Maybe,” you admitted. “But you’re also good at pulling them back when it matters.”

He exhaled a soft laugh, his forehead pressing against yours. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s not,” you said, your voice softening. “But nothing worth having ever is.”

For a moment, he said nothing, his eyes searching yours as though trying to find some hidden truth. Then, without a word, he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was gentle and unhurried, filled with a quiet intensity that made your heart ache.

When he pulled back, he shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look at you more fully. His fingers trailed absentmindedly over your arm, the touch featherlight.

“What happens now?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled faintly, your hand brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “That’s up to us,” you said simply.

His lips curved into a small smile, and for the first time, you saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “Us,” he repeated, as though testing the word.

“Yes, us,” you said firmly.

The days that followed were a delicate balance, but there was a new openness between you and Stephen now. He was still Stephen—brilliant, stubborn, and frustratingly closed-off at times—but he was trying.

You caught him watching you more often, his gaze soft and contemplative, as though he were still trying to process the fact that you were there, that you weren’t going anywhere.

Wong noticed the change too, though he said nothing directly. Instead, he offered you a knowing smile when Stephen’s hand brushed yours during a conversation or when you caught him lingering in a room you were in, his presence silent but steady.

The case with the relic was eventually resolved. It was a reminder of the chaos and danger that would always be a part of your lives, but it was also a reminder of why you’d chosen to stay.

One evening, as you sat together in the Sanctum’s library, poring over a particularly complex text, Stephen reached for your hand. The gesture was subtle, almost hesitant, but when your fingers intertwined, he relaxed slightly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“You know,” he said, his voice low, “I never imagined myself capable of… this. Of being with someone.”

You looked at him, your heart swelling at the vulnerability in his tone. “You’re better at it than you think,” you said softly.

He chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “I’ll take your word for it.”

As the firelight flickered across his features, you realized that while the road ahead might not be easy, it would be worth it.

For the first time in a long time, Stephen Strange wasn’t just surviving. He was living—and he was doing it with you by his side.

[vinamari]

me seeing a ship I hate because it has my favorite character in it

like, you belong to the x reader, you OUR fictional character 😢

[space-helen]

Silenced

Words: 1114

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader

A/N: I know this has taken forever but I hope this is ok! (not proof read before releasing)

Request: Could you do something angsty for stephen strange, where he's working on researching some magic thing and his relationship with reader fell to the wayside as he's totally obsessed with whatever he's working on and anyway he gets more and more irritated and tells her to leave him alone and be quiet but for some accidental magic reasons he unintentionally made her mute. Then when everything's settled and his work/research is finished he assumed things would go back to normal but reader still isn't talking to him, he thinks he's getting the silent treatment for ignoring her while he was working but it's been weeks and she still hasn't said a word to him so he tries to talk to her about it and then he realises what he accidentally did and just angst and sadness pls, but like they work things out and stay together - Anon

______________________

"Y/N, please just leave me for a second" the man spoke totally exasperated. He'd been absorbed into new research for a couple of days now. He'd really planned to get it done quickly but with you interrupting consistently every hour he wasn't making as much progress as he'd have liked.

"I'm sorry I just wanted to make sure you were ok and didn't need anything"

"Y/N I love you, I really do but you're making this ten times harder with your constant interruptions. Just leave, It'll get done quicker and then we can spend more time together."

You were slightly hurt by the comment and felt a twang in your chest. You bowed your head "I'll come back with some dinner for you in a couple of hours" with that you quickly left. The man sighed and buried his head back into the book.

As promised you returned, nervous but hopeful the man was in a better mood. You'd seen him grumpy and mad before but He'd never been like this towards you so you knew it was serious. 

You balanced the plate of food in one hand to knock the door before opening it. Allowing it to swing open you politely greeted you boyfriend but before you could say another word he quietly muttered something under his breath and absentmindedly gestured his hand towards you. You thought you saw some orange sparks but couldn't be sure. 

Approaching his desk you placed down the plate but he continued to read the pages in front of him. You opened your mouth to say "here's the food I promised" You realised not a single sound came out. Tears instantly brimmed in your eyes and you turned on your heels to leave. 

You'd seen him jokingly mute people before but quickly unmute them. But this? It felt like a punch to the gut. Had you really annoyed him so much that he'd done it to you? He'd promised from day one to never use magic on you unless it was to save your life yet here you were. Mute and unable to speak because of him. 

Heading to your bedroom you sat on the edge of the bed. Somewhat still in denial that he'd done it you tried speaking to yourself but heard nothing. Letting the tears roll down your cheeks you lay down. He didn't mean it. He couldn't have. Yet he had been annoyed at your talking. 

You’d busied yourself for the rest of the day. Hoping he’d be done soon and would come and find you to undo his magic. Walking through the corridors you could see the man in the distance talking to Wong. You gazed at him hopeful before he quickly spoke “Y/N it’s an overnight trip. We’ll be back in the morning.” and before you could even react he’d disappeared with Wong.

Defeated you sighed a noiseless sigh and continued on your way through the sanctum towards the bedroom. Sluggishly you moved around and found yourself resting your head on your pillow for sleep.

The next day was spent moving around the sanctum trying to busy yourself, thanking yourself that you’d pre-booked time off work because you didn’t know how you’d function without being able to speak. You knew Stephen had arrived back in the early hours of the morning but you’d continued with his wish and stayed out of his way.

What you hadn’t realised was the longing looks from the man every time he saw you move around that day. He was still busy wrapping things up but wanted nothing more than for you to interrupt him, and save him, from Wong.

Eventually the day was coming to a close and he made his way to bed. He could feel his muscles relaxing as he made his way to you. He’d wanted nothing more all day than to see you and hold you in his arms.

Coming into the bedroom he could see that you were reading, what was unusual though is that you didn’t look up from your book, like you usually would, when he came into the room. Plodding around the room he quickly got changed before pulling the covers up and getting into bed. 

He sat for a moment before adjusting to get comfy. Not a single word from you? “Thank you for being patient with me. I’m sorry.” he moved to give you a kiss on your cheek but you moved away quickly and turned away from the man. Closing your book you went to put it on the nightstand.

His heart dropped, the silent treatment. He was seriously getting the silent treatment and it’d been that way all day and he hadn’t realised. He kicked himself internally.

“I’m sorry Y/N I really am but I promise not to be that way with you in the future. I just had Wong breathing down my neck about the work and how important it was and the emergency at hand. I understand if you’re giving me the silent treatment. I love you, I know I messed up.”

You turned back to the man and tried to reply in the heat of the moment, forgetting about the fact that no volume would come out. 

The man looked at you confused for a second. “Say something again.”

You did as he wished and you could see his features tense up “Someone muted you?” he quickly moved his hands and undid the spell. “You weren’t giving me the silent treatment? Who did this? What happened? Who do I need to go and speak to?”

You could see the anger bubbling up within him but you just stared at the man puzzled. “Wait.” the man stopped and looked at you “do you seriously not know?”

The man gave a very small and slight shake of his head.

“You did. When I came in yesterday to give you food.”

His eyes widened and he froze “I’m so sorry.” his words were slow and he brought his eyes to yours and found your hands with his “I’m so incredibly sorry. I didn’t even realise. I promise to never do it again. If something like that happens you have to come and let me know.”

You nodded, you could see that the man didn’t truly mean it and you couldn’t hold a grudge against him. “It’s ok. Just promise to actually communicate with me next time as well instead of just telling me to go away.”

He nodded and brought your hands to his mouth to place a gentle kiss to them. “Anything Y/N. Anything.”

With that you happily accepted his embrace when he opened his arms to you.

Tag List: (open)

All: @perasperaadastrawriting @asgards-princess-of-mischief @trippol-threat @captainsophiestark

MCU: @coffeeandcrimeshows @spunky-89 @heyitsaloy @captainsophiestark @discocactusblogs @butchers-girl

[mystrangeadd1ct1on]

If you want me, im yours.

Pairing: f!reader x Stephen Strange

Summary: Y/N got into trouble twice and he saved her, TWICE. They soon enough become close and eventually...

Warnings: a little bit of angst, but mostly fluff<3

Words count: 4k?

A/n: hii so this is my first fanfic, hope you like it🖤 (please excuse how bad it is written by times)

You quickened your pace, your heart racing as an unknown man behind you called out again.

“Hey, come on, sweetheart. I just want to talk to you.”

You ignored him, keeping your head down and clutching your bag tighter. The streetlights cast long shadows on the pavement, and the people around seemed oblivious to your discomfort.

“Don’t be rude now,” he said, his voice closer this time. You felt a cold wave of panic wash over you as his hand brushed your shoulder unexpectedly.

Before you could react, another voice cut through the tension, calm but firm.

“Is there a problem here?”

You turned to see another man standing a few feet away, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp. He was tall, dressed in a dark coat that billowed slightly in the breeze.

The man hesitated: “No problem. Just talking to her.”

“Doesn’t look like she wants to talk,” the stranger replied, his tone steady, almost conversational. “Why don’t you move along?”

The man scowled, muttering something under his breath before turning and walking away, disappearing into the shadows.

You exhaled shakily, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. The stranger turned his attention to you now, his expression softening slightly.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

You nodded, though your hands were still trembling. “Yeah, I think so. Thank you. I didn’t know what to do.”

He studied you for a moment, his gaze not invasive but observant. “It’s New York,” he said with a faint, wry smile. “Unfortunately, things like this happen too often.”

You managed a small smile in return, still trying to steady your breathing. “I guess so. I just… wasn’t expecting it tonight.”

His eyes flicked to your hands, noticing the way they gripped your bag. “Do you need someone to walk you home? Or somewhere safer?”

You hesitated. He seemed genuine, but you didn’t know him. Still, something about his calm demeanor reassured you.

“I think I’ll be okay,” you said after a moment. “I live a few blocks away.”

He nodded, stepping aside to give you space. “Alright. Just stay aware of your surroundings. And if you ever feel unsafe, don’t hesitate to call for help.”

“Thanks,” you said again, your voice steadier now. “Really.”

He gave you a slight nod, his expression unreadable. “Take care.”

As he turned to leave, you couldn’t help but call out, “Wait! I didn’t get your name.”

He glanced back, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. “Stephen,” he said simply before walking out of your sight.

***

The air felt electric, thick with tension as you pressed yourself against the cold wall of the alley. You couldn’t believe how the day had spiraled. One moment, you were grabbing a coffee, the next, you were being dragged into a hostage situation by a masked figure wielding some sort of strange, glowing weapon.

The villain stood in the middle of the chaos, ranting about power, control, and the destruction of some "order" you didn’t understand. You were now in some alley of the villian, unable to move due to the rope wrapped around you, great.

“Alright, that’s enough,” a deep, calm voice echoed.

Your eyes widened as a man in a flowing red cloak and blue robes stepped forward. He didn’t look like any superhero you’d seen on TV. No flashy gadgets or masks—just an air of authority and… magic?

The villain scoffed. “And who do you think you are?”

“Doctor Strange,” he simply said, his voice steady, almost bored. His hands moved in a fluid motion, golden sparks trailing through the air as glowing symbols formed around him. “you’re wasting my time, let's just get this over with.”

You couldn’t help but stare, torn between awe and confusion. Who was this guy? And how was he doing… that?

The villain lunged, but Strange was faster. The air seemed to ripple as portals and shields materialized out of thin air. His movements were precise, calculated, as if he already knew how the fight would end.

In moments, it was over. The villain was bound, the glowing weapon disarmed and disintegrated. You stayed rooted to the spot, your eyes fixed on Strange as he turned to you.

“Are you alright?” he asked, stepping closer. He began to gently untie you.

“I… I think so,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze softened, but there was a flicker of something else—recognition?

“You look familiar,” he said slowly, tilting his head as he studied you.

You blinked, suddenly remembering. “Wait… Stephen?”

His eyes widened slightly, and a hint of a smirk tugged at his lips. “The woman from the street,” he said, his tone carrying a trace of amusement.

“That’s you?!” you asked, gesturing vaguely at the cloak and the sparks still fading from his hands. “You’re a… sorcerer?”

He shrugged, the smirk growing. “Basically, yes.”

You let out a breathless laugh, still trying to process everything. “Wow. And here I thought you were just some overly observant guy.”

“I can be both,” he replied, his tone light but his eyes scanning you for any signs of injury. “Are you sure you’re okay? No injuries?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you assured him, still slightly dazed. “Just… a little overwhelmed.”

“That’s normal,” he said, his voice softening. “It’s not every day you’re caught in the middle of a magical showdown.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his attempt to lighten the mood. “So, uh, do you do this often? Saving random strangers?”

“More often than I’d like,” he admitted, the smirk returning. “But I seem to be making a habit of saving you specifically.”

You laughed, the tension easing slightly. “Well, I appreciate it. Again.”

He nodded, his expression unreadable for a moment before he spoke again. “You should head home. Stay safe.”

“Right,” you said, starting to move but hesitating. “uhm.. thank you.” you said sincerely.

His gaze softened again, and he gave a small nod. “Take care, Y/N.”

You froze. “Wait—how do you know my name?”

His smirk returned, and with a flick of his wrist, a portal opened behind him. “I know more than you think,” he said cryptically before stepping through, leaving you standing there in the alley, questions swirling in your mind. Will you even ever meet again?

***

It had been a few weeks since you’d last seen Stephen, or rather, Doctor Strange, and you still couldn’t quite shake the surreal feeling of that encounter. The way he’d casually saved you, then vanished without a trace, had left you with more questions than answers. Was he really a sorcerer? And if so, what was he doing in New York, saving random people?

You hadn’t expected to run into him again, especially not like this.

It was a quiet evening, and you’d decided to take a walk through the park, hoping to clear your head. The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange, and the park was mostly empty. The crisp autumn air filled your lungs, and for a moment, you felt at peace.

That was until you heard a familiar voice.

“Didn’t expect to see you here.”

You turned, your heart skipping a beat as you saw him standing near a bench, hands tucked into his coat pockets, looking just as composed as the last time you saw him.

“Stephen?” you asked, your voice a little too surprised for your liking. “What are you doing here?”

He smiled, a knowing glint in his eyes. “I could ask you the same thing. It’s a park, Y/N. People come here to walk, think, enjoy the quiet.”

You scoffed and narrowwed your eyes, not sure whether to laugh or roll your eyes. “I know what a park is.”

He chuckled, stepping closer. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You both stood there for a moment, the awkwardness lingering, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just… unexpected.

“So, uh… how’s life?” you asked awkwardly, suddenly realizing you didn’t really know anything about him outside of the fact that he could do magic.

“Busy,” he replied, his tone light but his eyes scanning the park. “You know, saving the world, fighting evil, all that.” He paused, glancing back at you. “And you? What’s your life like now?”

You shrugged, trying to sound casual. “Same as usual. Work, life, avoiding being caught in hostage situations.”

He raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a half-smile. “That’s good. I’d hate to think you were getting into trouble again.”

“I’m trying to avoid it,” you replied, smiling back at him. “But you never know with New York.”

There was a brief silence, both of you just standing there, the sound of distant laughter and rustling leaves filling the air. Then, Stephen stepped closer, his expression a little more serious.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, his voice softer than before. You looked up at him as he was towering over you. The slight breeze flying through his and your hair.

You met his gaze, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. “I’m glad you’re okay too.”

For a moment, it felt like the world had slowed down. The noise of the city faded, and it was just the two of you standing there in the park, sharing a quiet connection.

Finally, you broke the silence. “So… do you do this often? Just run into people you’ve saved?”

He smirked. “Not really. But I’m glad we did. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see you again.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of the moment. “Well, I’m not that hard to find.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, just stating a fact.”

He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Good to know. Maybe we’ll run into each other again soon, Y/N.”

“Maybe,” you replied, feeling a little more at ease. “I’ll keep an eye out.”

With a final glance, Stephen turned and walked away, disappearing into the park as you stood there, a strange sense of anticipation lingering in the air. Maybe this wasn’t the last time you’d see him after all.

A few days passed since your unexpected meeting in the park, and Stephen Strange hadn’t left your mind. It wasn’t just the mystery of him—or the fact that he’d saved you twice now—but something about him lingered, like a song you couldn’t quite forget.

It was late one evening when your phone buzzed. You frowned, glancing at the unknown number flashing on the screen.

“Hello?” you answered cautiously.

“Y/N.”

You froze, recognizing the deep, composed voice immediately. “Stephen?”

“Good guess,” he said, his tone carrying that familiar hint of amusement.

“How—how did you get my number?” you asked, a little incredulous.

“I have my ways,” he replied, his voice too calm for your liking.

You rolled your eyes, though a smile tugged at your lips. “That’s not creepy at all.”

“I thought you’d appreciate it,” he countered smoothly. “You did say you weren’t hard to find.”

Touché.

“What do you want?” you asked, trying to sound casual, though your heart had started to race.

“I was thinking,” he began, his voice dipping slightly, “we never really finished our conversation the other day. I thought it might be nice to… change that.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the directness of his words. “You want to… talk?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of dinner,” he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “Unless you’re too busy avoiding trouble.”

Your cheeks warmed, but you managed to keep your tone steady. “I think I can make time.”

“Good,” he said, sounding satisfied. “Tomorrow night. Seven. I’ll text you the address.”

Before you could respond, the line went dead. You stared at your phone, equal parts annoyed and amused. Who just hangs up like that?

***

The next evening, you found yourself standing outside a small, tucked-away restaurant in Greenwich Village. The address Stephen had sent you led here, and you couldn’t help but wonder how someone like him—mystical, larger than life—chose such a low-key spot.

Inside, you spotted him almost immediately, sitting at a corner table, looking far too composed for someone who’d just asked you out of the blue.

“So you came,” he remarked as you approached, standing to pull out your chair.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” you shot back, taking your seat.

He smirked, settling across from you. “I'm not. Just impressed.”

The conversation flowed easier than you expected. Stephen was sharp, quick-witted, and surprisingly easy to talk to when he wasn’t throwing portals around or saving the world. You found yourself laughing more than you had in weeks, his dry humor balancing perfectly with your own.

At one point, as the waiter refilled your drinks, Stephen leaned back slightly, studying you with a curious expression.

“What?” you asked, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.

“You,” he said simply. “You’re different.”

“Different how?”

He tilted his head, as if considering his words carefully. “Most people I meet are either intimidated or overly curious. You’re neither.”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Maybe I’m just used to people like you.”

“People like me?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“Arrogant,” you grinned

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Fair enough.”

The night passed too quickly, and before you knew it, you were walking out together, the cool night air wrapping around you.

“Thank you for tonight,” you said, glancing up at him. “I had a good time.”

“Good enough to do this again?” he asked, his tone light but his eyes serious.

You smiled, nodding. “Yeah. Good enough for that.”

He returned the smile, and for a moment, you could’ve sworn there was something softer in his expression.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said, stepping closer. “But next time, I’m choosing the place again. My way of keeping you out of trouble.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’ve got your work cut out for you, Doctor Strange.”

He smirked, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he stepped back. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Stephen,” you replied, watching as he turned and walked away, his figure disappearing into the night.

You stood there for a moment longer, a strange mix of warmth and anticipation settling in your chest. Maybe this wasn’t the last time you’d see him after all.

Recently you found yourself thinking about Stephen more often than you cared to admit. Your conversations had become almost routine now, with texts or brief phone calls between his missions, but something about those moments lingered in the back of your mind. He wasn’t the easiest person to get to know, but the more you spoke with him, the more you saw a side of him that few people ever would.

Tonight, however, things felt different. He had invited you to the Sanctum for what he called a “quick catch-up,” but you had a feeling it wasn’t going to be as casual as he was making it sound.

You arrived at the Sanctum, the heavy door creaking as you pushed it open. Stephen was sitting at the long table, scribbling something down on a piece of parchment. When he looked up, a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Y/N, you’re early.”

You shrugged, walking over to take a seat across from him. “Better than late.”

There was a long silence between you two, a comfortable kind of stillness that had settled over your conversations in recent days. You found yourself just watching him, noticing the subtle tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers tapped rhythmically on the edge of the table.

You decided to break the silence. “You’ve been… busy, huh?”

“Always.” His smile was half-hearted, and there was something in his eyes that told you he wasn’t entirely present.

You frowned, tilting your head. “You’re still working on that spell?”

“No,” he said, sighing softly. “Just thinking, I guess.”

“About what?” you asked, leaning forward.

He met your gaze for a moment, his eyes holding a depth that you hadn’t quite seen before. “My hands,” he said quietly, his voice almost distant.

You blinked, not expecting that. “Your hands?”

He nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to the table as if the words were hard for him to say. “Yeah. They’re… they’re not what they used to be.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You knew about his accident, of course—the rumors and whispers about how he’d lost his career as a surgeon. But no one ever really talked about the aftermath, the emotional weight of losing something so central to his identity.

“Stephen,” you started softly, unsure how to approach this, “I know you used to be a doctor. You must have been amazing at it.”

He looked up, his gaze meeting yours, and for a moment, you saw something in his eyes that wasn’t the confident, detached sorcerer you were used to. There was a flicker of something raw, something that made your chest tighten.

“I was,” he said quietly. “I was good at it. I saved lives. I helped people. But now…” He trailed off, shaking his head, as if saying it out loud made it more real. “Now, my hands… They aren’t steady enough. I can’t do what I used to. I’m supposed to be able to heal, but…” He swallowed, his voice catching for just a second. “But I can’t even heal myself.”

The vulnerability in his words struck you harder than you expected. He wasn’t just a sorcerer; he was someone who had poured himself into healing, only to be stopped by something so simple, so… physical.

You didn’t say anything at first, just watching him, letting the silence stretch between you as you processed his words.

Then, without thinking, you reached across the table and gently placed your hand on top of his. The touch was soft, almost tentative, but his eyes flickered up to meet yours, and for the first time, you saw something different in his expression. A softness, an openness.

“You don’t have to heal everyone, you know,” you said quietly, your voice gentle but firm. “You’ve already done more than most people could dream of.”

He let out a small, dry laugh, a sound that held no real humor. “Maybe. But I can’t help feeling like I’ve failed. My hands were my identity. Without them, what am I?”

“You’re still you,” you replied, squeezing his hand. “You’re still the person who saved me that day, the person who showed me kindness when I needed it. You’re more than just your hands, Stephen. You’re the person behind them.”

There was a pause, and you could see him wrestling with his thoughts, as if your words had hit him in a place he hadn’t expected. He exhaled slowly, his shoulders dropping slightly as the tension seemed to ease just a little.

“I didn’t expect you to understand,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Maybe not,” you said with a small smile, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

His gaze softened, and for a moment, he simply watched you, his fingers still resting under your hand. It was a quiet moment, but there was something in it—something raw and real that neither of you had expected to find in each other.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he suddenly said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, pulling your hand away, but just enough to let your fingers brush against his in a quiet acknowledgment. “I’m glad I’m here too.”

***

Tonight, there was a shift—a tugging feeling in your chest, as if the pieces of the past were coming together in a way you hadn’t fully realized before.

“You remember when we first met?” you asked quietly, your fingers tracing circles on the back of his hand. You sat on the couch and he was by your side.

Stephen’s gaze softened, and he turned his head slightly to meet your eyes. “How could I forget? You looked terrified.” He smirked, but it was warm, full of affection. "I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look at me like that. You were practically shaking in front of that guy."

You chuckled softly, the memory still vivid in your mind. The fear, the uncertainty, the way he’d stepped in without hesitation. “I thought I was done for. But then you showed up, and... everything kind of stopped. I didn’t even know who you were, but you were there. And you saved me.”

Stephen didn’t respond immediately, just let the words sit between you. It wasn’t often that he allowed himself to reflect like this—on the past, on how far you’d both come. But tonight, it felt different.

“I never imagined I’d be here. With you. Doing this... whatever this is.” You gestured between you both, a small smile on your face, but there was an edge of uncertainty in your tone.

He studied you for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly as though he was piecing together something you hadn’t said. “I never though I'd be so.. drawn to you.”

“and I was definitely a little 'scared' of you. You were this mysterious... sorcerer guy. And I didn’t know anything about magic. You were so... confident. But at the same time, I felt safe around you.”

His eyes darkened for a moment “I didn’t want to be your protector, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to be there for you.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “And now? What are we now, Stephen?”

For a moment, there was silence, as if the answer was too big, too important to rush. He took a deep breath, leaning in closer, his forehead brushing against yours. “I think I’m here. And you’re here. That’s enough.”

“But...” you began, but he cut you off gently.

“I don’t need to label this. I just need to be with you. Whatever that means.”

His words, simple and unadorned, made your chest ache in the best way. You’d gone from a terrified woman, lost in a city, to someone who was here with him, in this moment. You’d gone through pain, loss, fear... and yet, here you were. Together.

“I’m glad we’re here,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around him.

“Me too,” Stephen whispered back, pulling you closer.

And in that moment, nothing else seemed to matter. The world beyond the Sanctum could keep turning, threats could keep coming... but for now, you had everything you needed in this moment. Together.

Stephen pulled back slightly, his piercing gaze meeting yours, and for a moment, the vulnerability in his expression was almost startling. His lips parted as though he was about to say something, but he hesitated.

You tilted your head, your voice soft but firm. “Stephen... what are we doing? I don’t want to keep dancing around this.”

His jaw tightened, his hands still resting on your waist. He exhaled deeply, his thumb brushing over your side as if grounding himself. “You’re right,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “I’ve been avoiding putting this into words, but I think it’s time I stop.”

Your heart raced, your hands gripping his shirt lightly. “Then say it.”

He looked at you, his expression softening into something almost tender. “I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about anyone,” he said slowly, deliberately. “You’re not just someone I saved on a street, or someone I’ve spent time with. You’re... everything. And I don’t want to keep pretending this is casual or undefined.”

Your breath caught in your throat. The weight of his words settled over you like a warm blanket, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond.

“You mean that?” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

“I don’t say things I don’t mean, Y/N. I want this. I want you. And if you want me, I’m yours.”

A small laugh escaped you, a mix of relief and joy. “Stephen Strange, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

His lips curved into a rare, genuine smile. “I suppose I am.”

You grinned. “Then yes. I’m yours. And you’re mine.”

His arms tightened around you, pulling you into a warm embrace. “I guess it’s official now,” he murmured, his voice laced with a mix of amusement and affection.

“Finally,” you teased, resting your head against his chest.

He chuckled softly, the sound rumbling through you. “Took us long enough, didn’t it?”

“Indeed,” you replied, your smile widening.

And with that, the uncertainty that had lingered between you melted away, replaced by the steady, undeniable truth: you were his, and he was yours. You felt happy like never.

[lokidokieokie]

Change is Never Easy

Summary: The two of you called it quits a month or so ago...and then Y/n faints during a shift. Change is never easy.

Pairing: Surgeon!Strange x Fem!Nurse!Reader

Warning(s): ex-lovers, exes to lovers(?), fainting, unexpected pregnancy

The atmosphere at General-Metro had quickly become thick with tensions ever since the breakup. Dr Stephen Strange and Nurse Y/n L/n had officially called it quits a few weeks ago, and the lingering awkwardness between them was impossible to ignore.

Navigating the hallways was like tiptoeing through an emotional minefield.

Y/n, nursing her wounded heart, did her best to keep up appearances during her shifts. She tried to focus on her tasks and avoid any unnecessary encounters with Stephen.

The air of the hospital was constantly charged with unspoken words and unresolved emotions; and the slightest interaction left both of the medical professionals on edge.

On one fateful day, while Y/n was basking in her lunch-break, the build up of the emotional strain proved too much. In the break-room, surrounded by the hum of vending machines and the distant chatter of her coworkers, Y/n collapsed.

Panicked voices echoed through the room as her coworkers rushed to her aid.

---

The current events of Stephen Strange's ex did not reach him until later on in the day, courtesy of one Christine Palmer, who had intercepted him in the bustling hallway.

"Stephen, have you gone to check on Ella? Something happened to her during her shift, and I haven't had to opportunity to see her yet," Christine whispered urgently, concern etched into her voice.

Stephen's brow furrowed in confusion. "What? No, I haven't. Is she alright?"

Christine briefly briefed him on the situation before she got paged to another emergency, prompting Stephen to abandon his current path and seek out Y/n.

When he found her, lying down in a quiet corner of the hospital, seemingly alright, the relief on his face was undeniable.

Slowly walking over to her, he brushed a stray hair out of her face. "What happened to you?" Concern prominent in his voice as he dragged a chair over.

With a flutter of her eyes and a shaky smile, Y/n greeted him. "Hey, Stephen. I don't really know what happened. I just felt incredibly dizzy, and then everything went black for a moment. I'm probably just dehydrated, I'm sure everything is fine."

Stephen raised his eyebrows, and his professional instincts kicked in. "People don't just faint for no reason, Y/n. I'm going to order a few tests to make sure."

Before calling in others, Stephen quickly did an examination, asking her about her symptoms and taking note of her vitals.

As Stephen focused on the exam, Y/n couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. Their interactions were once filled with warmth and familiarity. Now, they were tainted by the awkwardness that hung in the air like a heavy cloud.

She was broken from her thoughts by Stephen's sigh of relief. "Physically, you seem find. I'm still getting other tests done to be thorough."

Y/n nodded, appreciating the concern emanating from her ex-lover. "Thanks, Stephen. I appreciate it."

---

It was probably about fourty-five minutes later when Stephen was given Y/n's test results. His eyes scanned the report, his expression changing from professional concern to surprise. Y/n, being curious and anxious about what he had seen, couldn't help up speak up.

"Stephen, what is it? What's on the report? Am I okay?" she pressed, her eyes searching his chiseled face for answers.

Taking a moment to compose himself, Stephen finally spoke, his voice a mix of disbelief and realisation. "Y/n, you're...pregnant."

Time seemed to still as the revelation hung in the air. Y/n's eyes widened, mirroring Stephen's astonishment. The awkwardness of their recent breakup was momentarily forgotten as they processed this unexpected twist of fate.

"Pregnant?" Y/n repeated, the word feeling foreign on her lips. "But we were careful?"

Stephen's mind raced, still processing the news. "Well, it seems we have to blame the twisted mind of the universe for this."

~~~

A/N So...I'm back from the dead 🙃 Sorry for another hiatus, Uni sucks, but I'm on break now :) Hopefully I can write more...but I'm me sooooo, please don't get your hopes up. BUT, there will be a part two of this that I have already pre-written so...

taglist (lemme know if you want to be added or removed) @thewaithfuckingannoyme @evelyn-kingsley @moonlight-ee @fall-myriad @ironstrange1991 @asgards-princess-of-mischief

sorry if you weren't added and had asked to be, I lost my taglists :(