Stephen - Tumblr Posts

Imagine suddenly belonging to Sinister Strange… Would he treat you any different than any of his other fuck buddies? With that in mind, this little idea of a story happened…

Rather than the usual where I post the beginning of something and then ask if you’d like to continue, this time I ask would you like to know how they both got to this… climax? 👀🤫

18+ smut

“Look at me, Princess…” Stephen placed a shaky hand against her cheek, gazing up at her with his lips parted and jaw jarring each time she moved over him, “I want you to see all the pleasure you cause me when you drive yourself so mercilessly until you come apart all over my cock…” His voice held within it the tellings that he wasn’t far off reaching his own climax.

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My Doctor

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mention of severe concussion, no graphic description of injury. Just absolute tooth-rotting fluff and Steph being a worrywart over his girl <3 Timeline? Canon? Never heard of them.

Word Count: 2,150

Reading time: ≈ 8 mins.

A/N: cutesy and fluffy for your reading pleasure. not super long, but i hope you all enjoy :)

You swatted away the hand of yet another nurse, causing her to give you a very serious glare. You glared right back, no remorse. She was old and catty and kept trying to manhandle you. You didn’t need to be manhandled. You needed to be at home, in your bed, asleep.

“How many times do I have to ask you to call my emergency contact? Is that not standard practice?” You bite out to a much sweeter nurse standing just outside the confines of your curtained ER room

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but your emergency contact is listed as a Doctor Stephen Strange?” You saw an unmistakable flush cover her cheeks— likely one of Stephen’s previous conquests— ugh, “That’s just not possible—“

“What do you mean not possible? His phone number— both his phone numbers are listed!” You’d been having this same argument with every nurse in the damn hospital for the past hour, you had half a mind to call the cops, “Either call Stephen or I’ll track down wherever the hell you out my phone and call him myself.”

“You’re severely concussed, Sweetie. You just aren’t thinking straight.”

“Call. His. Number.” You grit out, “Or I swear I’ll start screaming bloody murder. I don’t want to be here and you don’t want me here, you have other patients to worry about. He used to work here so I’m certain you’re well aware Doctor Strange is more than qualified to handle a little concussion.”

“We’re not calling a fake contact!” The crotchety old nurse snaps at you, “Entirely inappropriate to have one listed. We ‘ought to call New York’s finest ourselves and let them know a crazed fan is after the flying man in a cape.”

“It’s a Cloak.” You huff, “And it’s not fake— okay, you know what? Go ahead and call the second name on that list. Wong.”

The nurse looks it over and sighs, “Does Wong have a last name?”

“Yeah… Wong.” You roll your eyes

“His name is Wong Wong?”

You burst into a fit of laughter that’s sure to make you seem crazier than they already believe, but you are so beyond caring at this point. You were going to have Stephen rip whoever was in charge of this shit show a new one. You did not need to be hit by a falling tree limb and then trapped in the damn hospital for an hour afterward. You were furious and tired and they wouldn’t let you sleep.

“Yeah, sure. Wong Wong.” You agree, “But he prefers the first Wong over the second.”

The old nurse gives you a stern look that has you rolling your lips together to hide a smile. The other nurse heaves a sigh but picks up the phone on her cart, typing in the number and being answered almost immediately.

“Hello is this Mr… Wong?” There’s a pause before she continues, “Good. I’m Nurse Grant at Metro General Hospital. We currently have a Miss Y/L/N with us—“

There was promptly a screech from Nurse Grant as a giant glowing portal opened beside her, a commotion breaking out in the hospital around you. You just sat back and smiled smugly as Stephen walked through, uniform and all, his eyes immediately falling on you as he rushed forward. Wong stood just inside the portal and raised a brow at you, you waved a hand and he nodded, snapping the portal shut.

“Sweetheart, what happened?” Stephen asks, gently jostling Nurse Crotchety out of his way as he knelt by your side, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, but they wouldn’t call you.” You tattle-tale, “They told me I was going crazy because I was concussed and my emergency contact couldn’t possibly be Doctor Stephen Strange.” You bat your eyelashes at him and pout, “You aren’t a figment of my imagination, are you?”

Stephen sends a glare to Nurse Grant who’s still recovering from her shock and murmurs, “No, Sweetheart, not a figment. But I am about to become someone’s worst nightmare. Where the hell is Christine Palmer?”

“S-she—“ Grant stutters, “she’s in OR five at the moment, Doctor Strange, sir.”

“Right. You’ll be discharging Miss Y/L/N to me immediately and you can tell Doctor Palmer to contact me about your conduct when she’s out of OR. If she doesn’t call me, I will call her, and I promise you don’t want that. Are we clear?” Stephen glances to the mean old biddy behind him and you see her visibly shrink under his stare

“Yes, sir.” Nurse Grant replies, “We are so sorry for—“

“There wouldn’t have been anything to be sorry about if you’d at least attempted a call as she’d asked you. Instead, you implied insanity and went against her wishes. What if she’d been in critical condition? Dying?”

“Steph…” You murmur, feeling plenty vindicated, “it’s alright. I just want to go now.”

He looks back to you, eyes full of worry, but gives a curt nod. He speaks with Nurse Grant for a while longer about your condition, signs a few forms, and you’re released happily into your lovers’ arms. Quite literally into his arms. He insists on carrying you back through a portal himself. Ever the gentleman. 

When you take a peek at your surroundings you note, “This isn’t my house.”

“No. This is my room. I want you here for the next week or so, I want to keep an eye on you.”

“Oh, Steph.” You sigh, “You’re too busy to be worried about me—“

“You’re all I’m worried about.” He mumbles, laying you down in the bed carefully, “I’m going to go pack a bag for you at your place. Is there anything specific you want?” You shake your head no and he places a kiss on your forehead, “Alright. Give me five minutes, keep those pretty eyes open for me. Can’t have you falling asleep yet. Promise I’ll let you rest real soon though. Just need to run through soon quick questions and we’ll be good to laze away the rest of today. How’s that sound, Sweetheart?”

You nearly burst into tears, “You’re gonna’ stay with me?”

Stephen’s eyes go soft, “Of course, I’m going to, Y/N. I may do a bit of work while you sleep, but I’ll be right here, yeah?”

You grab one of his hands and place a gentle kiss against the back of his palm, “Thank you.”

“What’re ex-neurosurgeon turned sorcerer boyfriends for?” He shrugs

“God, what a mouth full.”

“You’re telling me. You don’t think that’d look nice on a business card?” He teases

You smile lazily, “We’ll work on it while I’m trying to fall asleep.”

“Perfect plan.” He agrees

“Oh, and I have a bone to pick with you!” You exclaim, shooting up from your laying position in the bed. Stephen simply raises a quizzical brow so you continue, “That nurse! You and that nurse did… something.” You huff

“Who? Judith? No, Sweetheart, I’ve never minded older women but that’s a bit too far even for me—“ You pulled a pillow up and smacked Stephen in the face, sending him into a fit of laughter. He grabbed the pillow and placed his hand gently on your shoulder, gently forcing you back down, “Nurse Grant? Maybe. Couldn’t say what or when, but nothing to worry your pretty little head about and no time recently.” He reassures

“Hmph.” You pout

Stephen chuckles and stands from the bed, “I’ll be right back and you can continue to pretend to be mad at me. Give me a few minutes, okay?”

You try to hide a smile as your murmur, “‘Kay.”

“I’m dying.” You moan, rolling to the foot of the bed and staring at Stephen who sits cross-legged in an armchair in the corner

He lowers his book and peers over the top stating, “You don’t look like you’re dying.”

You let your body go lax, tongue rolling out of your mouth, stopping the rise and fall of your chest. You wait exactly ten seconds to see if Stephen is buying it by cracking open one eye to take a peek at him.

“Very convincing, Sweetheart.” He sighs and stands from the chair, walking over to press his hand to your forehead, “Still not getting the feeling you’re dying though.”

“I am dying…” You whine, “of boredom.”

Stephen had been chronically by your side the last three days. You weren’t allowed to lift a single finger. You needed to readjust in bed? He was fluffing your pillow and tucking you in snug. You wanted to shower? He was leering nearby to ensure there was no slipping or sliding. Hungry? He was portaling somewhere to bring your favorite foods. Thirsty? He was bolting down to the kitchen to get you a fresh glass of water. Head ache? He was massaging your temples and whispering sweet words in your ears. He’d been an absolute angel.

Stephen rolls his eyes, “Three more days, Y/N. Then you’re free to get back out in the world… contingent on if you can promise me to avoid any more falling tree branches.”

“I can’t promise that. I also would like to go back into the world before then.”

He shakes his head, “Not happening.”

“But…” You pout, “You won’t even let me do anything fun. Being trapped in your boyfriends’ bedroom usually has much different connotations, you know?”

“And as absolutely tempting as that sounds, and as absolutely tempting as those come hither eyes you keep giving me are, I remain unmoved in that area.”

You glance to his crotch and decide, “Not entirely unmoved…”

“Enough.” He snorts, “How can I help you be unbored, huh? Something safe.”

You ponder a moment before suggesting, “Can we play the song game?”

Stephen cracks a lopsided smile, “The song game?”

“Mhm. I play it more with myself than with you— well, you play too, you just don’t know you’re playing normally.” You smile at him shyly, “I like it when I play songs and you tell me the artist, title, and release date. It makes me smile.”

He chuckles, “You like that?”

You nod eagerly, “S’real cute. I like watching your brain work.”

“That’s awful sweet of you.” He mumbles, trying to hide the flush on his cheeks by looking to the ground, “Do I need to be right here while we play the song game, or can I keep working?”

“You can keep working.” You say agreeably, “That way you can be done faster and put all your attention on me.”

He chuckles and leans down, placing a lingering kiss to your forehead and mumbling, “Alright, Sweetheart. Let’s play.”

And he knows nearly every song you play from his playlists. You start to wonder just how much information it’s possible for him to store in that magnificent brain of his. Does it ever get overcrowded with his photographic memory? How does he have room for all his sorcerer stuff and doctor stuff and silly little things like songs from the sixties and seventies? You lay there on the bed, rolled over on your stomach with a pillow tucked beneath your chin, playing song after song, watching his eyes rove over his books, occasionally pausing if you play a particularly challenging song, a determined look crossing his face and tensing his brow, and you can’t help but feel so in love. What a— no pun intended— strange, wonderful, mesmerizing man.

“Hey, Steph?” You call, tears welling in your eyes

“Yes, Sweetheart?” He glances up from his book and a wave of panic immediately washes over his features. He stands from the chair and comes to kneel in front of you, running a hand over the top of your head, eyes full of concern that you’ve seen so often in the last few days, “What is it, Sweet? Is your head hurting? Do I need to go get you something? You want some food or water? Do you need to take a nap?” He cradles your face in his hands and runs his thumbs beneath your eyes carefully, “Tell me what I need to do and I’ll do it.” He promises

You shake your head and give a sort of choked giggle, “Nothing’s wrong, Stephen. I just love you. Thank you for taking such good care of me the last few days. I’m just… I’m really grateful for you.”

He smiles at you softly and leans forward, resting his chin on the mattress as he runs his fingers through your hair, “Of course, Sweetheart. There’s nothing I’d rather be doing. Spending time with you, no matter what state you’re in, is one of my favorite things to do. And I love you too, you know?” You nod and his smile deepens, “Best patient I’ve ever had, no doubt about it.”

“Mm, you’re the best doctor I’ve ever had.” You return, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose, “My doctor.”

“Always, Sweetheart.”

tag list: @yuu-chan-is-still-a-student12 @fireworksinthesky @cemak @pinkthick @cumbrbatchbenedict @newavenger @evelyn-kingsley @aphroditesdilemma @ironstrange1991 @strangeobsessed @iamsherlocked1479 @vickie-mcmuffin @rmoonstoner @the-royal-petals @avahiddlestonstan @vi0letdaze

If you’re looking for Strange inspo, I’m SUPER thirsty for anything smutty with a bratty reader bc the thought of brat tamer Strange is just 🥵

oh god oh god, yes thank you for asking for this thank you thank y-

your own demise (18+, MINORS DNI)

stephen strange x reader rating: 18+, smut. warnings: jealousy/possessiveness?? just reader being a brat

It’s a game you know you’ll lose, but you start it either way. Or is it him? After so many unnecessary and downright immature quarrels with Stephen, you have lost a sense of who starts what.

What is clear, is who finishes it.

You dont know why you even try at this point, when you begin your little game of icing him out. Stephen automatically knows when he’s in for one of your little childlike tantrums over some stupid thing he said. It flips the switch in his head, makes him chuckle when he asks you “Yeah? Is that what we’re doing?” and doesn't get a single word in response.

And god bless your soul, you always think you have the capacity to live without his touch, his voice or attentions for more than a few days.

And maybe you can, for a little while. But how can you compete against the leading authority in patience? Against the man who has been stuck in never ending time loops of his own creation? Honey, it’s a set up for your own demise.

But if anything, the fact only makes you angrier. The resolve fooling you into thinking that this time, he’ll be the one to give in. Maybe this time he’ll be the one begging on his knees for you to just touch him.

But then, his laugh fills your ears even when he’s standing across the other end of the room. Stephen is chuckling at something a beautiful stranger beside him has said and it makes the fingers of your hand clutch harder against the glass you’re holding.

The poor man making conversation with you thinks you’re paying attention, but he doesn’t know your gaze is empty. That theres only images of Stephen leaning in to the stranger’s ear to whisper a clever remark and them giggling in response.

Like clockwork, your determination starts to shatter over nothing. And then you’re making up any excuse to walk over to where he’s sitting.

Right on cue, Stephen makes eye contact with you as soon as you’re close enough, his eyebrows raising in question. But seconds after, he's eyes are gleaming with amusement when he notices the petulant yet hopeful look on your face.

It would make you want to ignore him for days longer, but only god knows how implausible that is. If your need for him is any indication, it will take only a few hours before you’re succumbing into hopeless desperation.

You need to get him alone, right this second.

“Had enough?” He asks, once you find a quiet room with a lock. Like he cant tell with the way you’re trying to get him to just crash his lips on yours.

“You’re an asshole, Stephen” You breathe, in incredulity. No real meaning to your words since your grip on the hairs at the nape of his neck is relentless.

“So I’ve heard” He adds, the snarky look on his face begging to be slapped off. “But i’m not the one interrupting conversations honey, it was actually getting interesting-"

“Yeah. Sounded real hilarious too” You say, the spite dripping off your voice. Like the poor person back at the party deserves it (they don’t).

Oh fuck. You shouldn’t have said that.

“Excuse me?” He asks, eyes squinting at you. The evil smile taking over his entire face. He knows you were listening in.

“I was just-, You-” You try to speak, yet your voice sounds tiny against the loudness of his stare

“Can’t ignore me even if you tried huh?” He says, not a question. Not even close. Grabbing at your cheeks with one of his hands to make you admit to it to his face.

And you want to say something, scream at his goddamn handsome but incredibly conceited face. But theres only red hot anger fueling your last remaining resolve, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing how he’s got you like putty in his hand.

“I see.” He says, in between a chuckle when all he hears is silence. “This game gonna go on for a while longer then? Might as well go back to-“

“No!” You interrupt, so darn fast it makes your cheeks fill up with red hot embarrassment and shame.

And Stephen smiles, because of course you dont want him to leave. “No?” He repeats, enjoying your little performance for him.

“Please-“ In the uttering of a single word, you’ve lost.

And Stephen is anything but merciful when it comes to retribution. Can’t just flutter your pretty eyelashes at him to make him forget about the scorching thirst he’s had to dismiss for days.

“Try again.” He requests, yet the black in his eyes and the way his fingers are digging so hard against your cheeks betray how much his resolve is also starting to crumble.

“Baby-" You beg, and a slight smirk takes over your lips when Stephen has to stifle a groan in response to the whiny tone in your voice. “Please, just touch me”

And touch you he does, when hes convinced enough.

Even with so many people around the corner and right behind closed doors. His head is dipped between your legs to where you need him most, the scrape of his beard ripping desperate sounds out of you even as you try but fail to suppress them against the skin of your palm.

"Couldn't get you to talk and now you wont keep it quiet" He rasps, deep voice sending vibrations all over your body as it hits against your most sensitive spot.

If you were gonna reply, it ends up being only a shaky sigh of his name.

When he's left you in shambles, and trembling with aftershocks from the hypersensitivity, you've only got half a mind to stop yourself from grabbing at him through his expensive trousers.

"Later" He says, calmly. You would think maybe even unaffected, if it weren't for the slight twitch in his jaw at a particular brush of your palm against him.

"Dont you want me to-" Its pathetic, how you're asking to do somehting for him yet it feels like you're the one whos desperate to actually do it.

"We have all night, sweetheart." His voice has dropped in octaves, as if he's admonishing you for even trying to give him what he so clearly wants. And then his eyes meet yours in a teasing glare. "Be patient for me. Can you do that?"

You never really stood a chance against him.

Unspoken Thing - Stephen Strange 

When i tell you i woke up in the middle of the night to write this, know that im not exaggerating one bit jdjkdjd. Sorry for any grammar mistakes.

Summary: Y/N and Stephen do absolutely everything but admit their feelings for eachother. And then, the snap. This is SUPER angsty but also a bit smutty. As always let me know what you think, this is my first time writing Stephen so im excited!! (gif by the wonderful @thelostsmiles​ )

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I’m going to hell for this.. reader is studying with Stephen, and he’s quizzing her while eating her out 👀

bestie,,, i'll see you in hell! Hope you enjoy this small little drabble, im sorry it took me so long. The MoM hype is getting me really in the mood to write about Stephen uuuuughghgh, i can't wait to watch!!!

stephen strange x reader 18+, MINORS DNI (will block ageless blogs) warnings: smut, oral, dumbification kink

From the start, being assigned as an apprentice to him had chaos written all over it. Within just a few days of you living inside the Sanctum, there was already a tension brewing within the concrete walls. 

The both of you could lie and say that the tension was undetectable to others, but how can it be? When the lingering glances are so loud. When his voice drops to a maddening gravelly tone whenever you’re making conversation with him. When you cant stop yourself from letting out a choked out gasp at his casual touches. 

Above all, how can it be undetectable… when you two cant seem to keep your hands off each other . 

Its borderline ridiculous at this point, to schedule “sessions” with you to practice certain spells or to go over readings and scriptures, since you already know all of them by heart. Stephen was smart, relentless in his search for knowledge. But so were you. 

Still, he finds his way of making it complicated for you. Because of course he wants to feel like he’s in control, of course he wants to remind you, that you are still his apprentice. 

So this is how he knows he’ll make you forget about every single thing in that smart, brilliant brain of yours. To leave you blank, with only his name playing on repeat. 

With his tongue buried inside you, hands grasping at your thighs with such force it indents the skin.

“Gotta admit I’m a bit disappointed” He rasps when you don’t answer one of his questions correctly, his voice so close to your center that it makes you arch your back in hopes of bringing his mouth back where it belongs. 

He chuckles at that, amused at how quickly he’s got you so needy and so dumb for him. 

Your mind is reeling with anger, ready to curse at him for days. 

But it doesn’t last long before Stephen is already erasing those thoughts with red hot need when he attaches his mouth against that most sensitive part once more. Sucking so harshly that it makes you let out a sob that you’re sure can be heard a few doors down. If not by the whole fucking building. 

Shame was no longer in yours or Stephens vocabulary, what with the way you two seem to only be spurred on by the thought of everyone knowing what he’s doing to you. 

"Inside, please-" You whine, brain scrambling to form a single coherent thought when he groans against you and you can feel it all the way to your toes.

Cant even finish a single sentence. He laughs, so fucking condescendingly that it makes you frown and gawk at him. A look he instantly imitates with a smirk as he stands up. 

“Think you deserve it sweetheart?” He asks, but he’s already unbuttoning his trousers, a heavy sigh leaving his lips as your hands fumble with his to help. 

He knows the answer is yes, he knows your answers would be right if you weren’t so goddamn drunk on him. But when he hears your whiny and desperate "i do", he cant help himself from taking things further. 

“See i dont think you do.” He taunts, closing in the space to rest his forehead against yours. “I think theres nothing in that pretty head of yours.” And Stephen relishes the way your eyes go black, how your cheeks flush at the humiliation yet your mouth opens with a broken and desperate plea. 

“Just me” He adds with a pull at your bottom lip, his heart beating a mile a second with the realization of how true it is. 

He wont let you know, but you're the only thing inhabiting his mind most of the time as well.

Under The Mistletoe

Pairing: Sinister Stephen Strange x Reader, Donna Strange

Summary: Your first Christmas together after giving birth, & a little mistletoe reminds you how loved you really are.

Warnings: Not much, mostly fluff. Allusions to smut. Self-doubt, body image issues, & allusion to post-partum depression.

@fanartka did a lovely drawing that matches this story so well. We all seem to share ideas about Stephen & I love that we both did this unknowingly at the same time.

Each and every doorway in the Sanctum had a piece of mistletoe hanging from it. An extra piece dangling from your headboard. That had been the extent of Stephen's interest in decorating.

Ever since the first year you were together and talked him into celebrating, the mistletoe was his favorite part. Ultimately, any excuse for him to kiss on you he would have been fine with, but he could live without all the rest of the sappy hokey holiday stuff.

Well, he could have before, but that was before his Grinch heart grew far more than two sizes. Now he wanted every bit of sappy and hokey he could get. Even if it meant wearing felt reindeer antlers while you danced around him with your bouncing baby daughter on your hip.

He wanted her life to be everything his never was, even though he had created this barren world. He had done something right somewhere along the way to end up with you. He would spend the rest of his days trying to give you both and any other little ones you may be blessed with, anything and everything you could ask for.

He would be everything. A loving and devoted husband. A protective and caring father. The person he never thought he could be. Better than he ever was before. Much better than his father.

So he would happily submit to the hokey singing and dancing if it made your daughter, his daughter, smile. Her tiny little hands clapping and grabbing at the shiny baubles on the tree he had magically created. He may have added just a bit of extra sparkle and shimmer to the lights and ornaments. Just for her.

For you, he still strung the Sanctum in as much mistletoe as he could. Even after you suggested skipping it this year, since mistletoe has the potential to be poisonous to babies. He didn't listen. It was one of your first traditions together, one of his favorites, and it's not like he was hanging it where your baby could randomly find it.

The one she was most able to reach would be the most important, though, the one on the headboard of your shared bed. That one, there was no wiggle room on. Not after you promised him a special naughty present.

You hadn't had much opportunity to get back into your normal sex routine. Before your daughter, hardly a day ever passed without you and Stephen making love. If there were others in the universe you would have been sickening to watch, all over each other all the time.

After giving birth, you both knew your body needed time to heal and recover after what it had gone through. The extra plus of him being a doctor was he knew, or could find, all the rules of how to take care of you post-partum.

Now, your body was physically healed. Mentally, you were nervous. So much about your body had changed. Your body had been through the wondrous yet kind of disgusting and slightly terrifying process of giving birth. He had been there for every minute of it. Hell, he had been the one to talk you through all of it. Thank god for his medical training.

Would Stephen still be turned on by you? Would he still want you like he did before? Would he still find you sexy after seeing your body go through that? Or would he be bored or disgusted by how different you looked now?

You were no longer the shiny new toy from before. No longer the sleek sports car. You knew that all of that was crap. That you were a full and complex human being. A person, not an object like a car or toy, but as you stood looking in the mirror, your mind distorted your thoughts.

The holiday inspired lingerie you had put on was subject to your enhanced scrutiny. It was a simple silky deep green backless short nightie that you topped with a Santa hat. Did it highlight the new extra pooch on your belly? Did it show too many stretch marks? Did it make your boobs look lopsided?

You had lost track of how long you had been standing in front of the mirror. So much so that you hadn't noticed the sorcerer that had come looking for you and was watching from the doorway.

You jumped a little when you caught the set of crystal blue eyes glancing at you through the mirror. A little snort and smirk crossed his face and made the corners of his eyes crinkle.

Back when he had tried to be intimidating, when you first arrived, as much as he tried, he could never make you jump. Even though he no longer wanted to intimidate you, he found it funny that he occasionally managed it now. Only after falling head over heels and marrying you. After having a baby with you, only then could he manage to sneak up and startle you.

You rolled your eyes and reached to grab your robe to cover yourself up on reflex. Turning around to see Stephen walking towards you with a sprig of mistletoe dangling in the air above him with the help of his violet colored magic. His long, scarred fingers reaching to pull the robe from your grasp and toss it over onto the bed. Putting it out of your immediate reach.

"I think I just found my Christmas present. No point in trying to hide it now, darling."

He looked your body up and down, studying every inch of you before pulling you to him and wrapping his arms around you. Licking his lips and winking at you flirtatiously.

"Merry Christmas to me indeed. You look gorgeous, my love."

You tried to hide the slight grimace you made at his compliment, but you could see his brows furrow immediately at your reaction. He let one hand drag up your side, letting his fingertips skim your entire body, bringing his index finger to rest under your chin. Gently tilting your face up to look at him. He could see the insecurity in your eyes and it made his heart hurt.

"What's wrong, my queen? Did I say something wrong? Did I forget something?"

His other hand rhythmically rubbing up and down your back trying to soothe and comfort you. His brain cycling through everything he had said and done over the last couple of days. He couldn't stand thinking that he had done something that hurt you.

You shrugged and tried to dismiss his concern. A tight-lipped smile forming on your lips. Swallowing back your thoughts and fears.

"It's nothing, Stephen. It's just me. It's something stupid. Don't worry about it. Let's just enjoy Christmas."

Your heart nearly stopped in your chest when you leaned in to try to kiss him and he pulled back. Your fears suddenly flooded back into the pit of your stomach. The hurt immediately registered on your face. As soon as he realized that you had taken his response as rejection, he quickly addressed

"If it has you upset, sweetheart, it's not nothing. I don't care if it's stupid. I love you more than you will ever know. You are the reason I look forward to each minute of each day. I want you to tell me everything, anything. Now, what has you upset? Why are you trying to hide from me?"

He kissed your forehead and then nuzzled his face against yours lovingly. He truly hated to see you upset, and he wouldn't rest until he found a way to fix whatever was wrong.

"You know how happy I am that we have Donna now, and I love her and you so much it hurts. It scares me sometimes. Things are different now that we have a baby. My body is different now. It's not the one that you loved so much before. Things are jigglier and not as firm now. It doesn't look like anything like it did. You've seen it do things that are pretty much the exact opposite of sexy... I get scared that you won't enjoy or love me as much or get as turned on by me anymore. I don't know what I'd do without your touch, your love."

You wanted to look at the floor. You wanted to crawl into your bed and hide under the covers. You didn't want to feel Stephen's eyes on you as he was pondering what you just confessed. You tried not to think about how insane you might have just sounded. Or worse, if you made perfect sense and were right.

He silently grabbed both your hands in his and pulled you over to sit in your large shared bed. He crawled into the fluffy bedding, sitting with his back against the headboard tight near the mistletoe. Once he was settled he beckoned you over to him, pulling you to him and scooping you up into his lap. Holding you securely in his large arms and pressing a kiss to your neck once he could tell you found a comfy position.

"First of all, thank you for telling me what you've been worrying about. Thank you for trusting me. Second of all, do you really think I would have mistletoe placed all over this haunted house if I wasn't as attracted to you as I was? I know your body is different now. It's different because you grew a human in there. The only other human in this universe. You gave birth to our daughter. You, and this incredible body, gave me something I thought I would never ever have. A family to love and care for. You gave me what was impossible. You are a miracle to me. A goddess, and I will worship you for the rest of my days. I love you more every single day, and that will never change."

He tilted your head to kiss you softly over and over. Sweet and comforting kisses meant to alleviate your fears. Your body started to relax and melt into his. Letting go of the tension and fear in your body.

"And now, as for your worry about me not being turned on by you… do you really think I would magically create and hang all this mistletoe around here if I didn't want any and every excuse I could find to kiss and love on you? It seriously takes every ounce of strength in my body to keep my hands off of you all hours of the day. How seeing you holding our daughter makes me want to get you pregnant all over again. How I was waiting rather impatiently for my present this evening, and how badly I want to unwrap it. To unwrap you, and make love to you. My amazing sexy wife. Mother of my children. The love of my life and the best thing to happen to me. Ever "

Before you could respond, Stephen captured your lips with his. Using every bit of energy he could to squeeze you tight and kiss you breathless. As if his kiss was the punctuation of his statement.

When he finally separated from you he pressed his forehead to yours, the fluff from your Santa hat trapped between you, letting you catch your breath. He fully intended to not let yourself get carried away in negative thoughts. Not when it was Christmas, and not when you were genuinely the most extraordinary being he had ever met.

"Now, are you going to tell me if I'm on the naughty or nice list? I want my present and I was good and hung up the decorations like you asked, but I want very much to be naughty with you. Also, I am going to throw a Grinch sized tantrum if you aren't my present because I will always want you to be my present."

You had to giggle at him. You had always enjoyed teasing him about being a Grinch ever since your first Christmas together. You pulled the Santa hat off of your head and placed it atop Stephen's. Brushing his gray streaked thick brown hair behind his ears as you adjusted the hat. Somewhat surprised he was still patiently sitting still and letting you.

Once you were finished, you looped your hands around his neck and leaned back to get a better view of him. It was at that moment you realized he had sat down on the bed just shy of where the sprig of mistletoe was hanging from the headboard.

"Well, Stephen, it looks like we aren't quite under the mistletoe directly, but I guess it's close enough. So I guess you earned at least a kiss or two."

He snickered at your response. An eyebrow quirked at your attempt to best him. He loved that you would always tease and poke at him. You never let him win easily. Even when it was all play. You matched him wit for wit, and that was something he knew he would only grow to love more.

A glint in his eye as he pointed upward towards the ceiling of the Sanctum. Following his gesture your eyes tracked up toward the ceiling, your mouth falling open in wonder at what you saw.

Suspended and floating amongst a field of shimmering swirling bits of amethyst hued magic were countless sprigs of mistletoe. All shades of green, some with berries, some tied with red bows, and some even looked like they were topped with snowflakes. All looked like they had been created to look picture perfect.

"I was kind of hoping that would get me more than just a couple kisses. What do you think?"

"I think this may just be the perfect Christmas, and you may be the perfect man Stephen Strange."

That entire night, as Christmas Eve turned into the wee hours of Christmas Day, he made love to you. Granting your every wish and assuaging your every concern. Something he would happily spend the rest of his days doing.

--------------------------------

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HI

You have no idea how thrilled I am to see you've opened your request ls again!

Can I please have a StephenXyounger!reader with a HUGE daddy k!nk?

She's such a stubborn girl, and a bit violent if she gets angry, so one day she beats the f outta some guy who hurt her best friend in kamartaj and gets herself in trouble but Stephen steps in to teach her a lesson.

Rough fvck, dumbification, degrading, just Stephen being an absolute dom😩

Red

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT! BDSM (domination and masochism). DDLG type relationship (use of the name Daddy and Baby Girl, descriptions of specific routines, and forfeited control (from reader). Spanking, choking (collar and hand), fingering, PinV, and slight size kink. Aftercare included ;)

Word Count: 8,568

Reading time: ≈ 31 mins.

A/N: So… I didn’t 100% stick to the prompt I received because this scenario just scram specific kinks to me. If you didn’t, please read the warnings as this fic includes themes that may be upsetting for some readers. This may feel a little more intense than my normal fics but it was the first sort of dynamic that inspired me in a long time! Very much adjacent to Sugar!Daddy!Strange, but not the same couple.

18+ or i haunt you like a ghost from ur past <3!

You’re seeing red. It’s the only color you’ve ever seen, maybe in different shades, varying intensities, but all you’ve ever known is red. All the anger you keep bottled up makes the hue cloud the premises of your vision, all day you sit and wait for someone to test you, someone to give you a reason to evict just a bit of the color from your person. And the second that motherfucker laid hands on the new girl he was done for.

It was her second sparring class for Christ’s sake. Why he thought it was appropriate to put her in a chokehold she had no knowledge to escape was beyond you. Worse than that? He hadn’t let her out when she tapped, and she was clearly tapping. He was twice her size and had twice her experience, though he wasn’t exactly a senior student himself. But he was one of those meatheads that hadn’t learned you had to use a bit of emotional awareness every now and again and give it up when enough was enough.

So you took it upon yourself to show him how it felt.

Face down on the stone ground, one arm twisted behind his back between his shoulder blades, your knee digging into his lower back, your foot on the wrist of his opposite hand to render him immobile. Small rivers of blood were already forming between the cracks in the stone, the liquid slowly dripping from his nose, a deep, dark red. You knew he was asking you to stop, you could hear his pathetic whimpers vaguely between the white noise that filled the rest of your head, but you didn’t care. The jeers of your fellow peers around you didn’t aid you in stopping either. No one liked this guy anyway.

“You think it’s fucking funny to rough up the newbies?” You spit out, shoving his face against the ground, “You think it’s fucking funny now?”

“I- I’m sorry! I didn’t feel her tap!” He stutters out

“You didn’t feel her tap?” You ask exasperated, “Because I sure as hell saw her tapping from where I was standing.”

“B-but she didn’t say—“

“You were choking her, asshat! How the hell was she supposed to say anything? That’s why we tap!”

“What the hell is going on here?” His voice cuts through all the madness, all the jeering, all the whimpers, all the white noise… his voice cuts through the red. You look up knowing exactly what you’ll find and simply grit your teeth and wait. After observing the scene for a moment he demands, “Let him go, Y/L/N.”

You sneer and give the guy’s face one last hard shove against the stone, hoping to leave behind a bit of road rash before standing up, brushing yourself off, and standing at attention in front of Master Strange. You watch as he gives you a once-over before crouching down in front of your handiwork and rolling him over on his side. 

He heaves a deep sigh and asks, “Can you stand?”

“Y-yes, sir.” He says through a sob, causing you to have to force back a smile. He tries to continue on, “Sh-she… I didn’t—“

“Save it.” Master Strange says, “I’ll speak to you both separately before deciding the best course of action. Let me ask now…” Master Strange turns to the by-standing crowd and raises his voice, “is there anyone else who needs to be included in this evaluation so I get the full story?”

The new girl steps forward on shaky legs and says meekly, “Me, Master Strange.”

“Thank you.” He says with a nod, “I will speak to Mr. Druid first, you second,” He spins around on his heels to face you, “and Miss Y/L/N last. You girls go wash up and come to my office promptly. I don’t want to spend all night on this, am I understood?”

“Yes, Master Strange.” The new girl murmurs

“How long can my shower be?” You muse aloud, shocking everyone in the courtyard, “Because it’s hair wash night and I need to shave so like… will your conversation with this asshole take an hour, hour and a half?” 

You see Master Strange’s jaw tense before he says flatly, “You will finish your routine as quickly as humanly possible and report outside my door, Miss Y/L/N.”

“And how long will it take once I’m in there?” You press further, “Because I need to do some laundry and cook some dinner—“

“Miss Y/L/N!” He barks, in two huge strides coming to stand right in front of you, “You will report to my office as soon as possible and it will take however long I decide it should. Until then, I’d like you to keep that smart mouth closed and treat your superiors with the respect they are due. Am I understood?”

And you knew… you could tell he was loving this. Despite the bite in his tone, there was a shine in his eyes. Despite the downturn of his lips, his eyes crinkled in amusement. Everything you needed to know about Stephen Strange could be read in those eyes, and you had learned to read him like a book. Despite the red edging back around your vision you rolled your lips together and gave him a curt nod.

However, this wasn’t enough for him as he repeats lowly, “Am I understood?”

Chills run up your spine as you glare up at him and whisper, “I heard the first time you asked.”

“Then you’ll have no problem answering the third time.” He huffs, nostrils flaring, “Am I understood?”

You weigh your options, feeling all eyes in the courtyard on you before relenting, “Yes, Master Strange. Understood.”

Before he turns back around he ducks his head to whisper in your ear, “Be a good girl and wear something pretty for Daddy tonight.” You lift your eyes to look at him through your lashes as he promises, “You have a long night ahead of you.”

With that, he spins on his heels once more and gestures the guy whose last name is apparently Druid off of the ground. The new girl, whose first name you know to be Melissa scurries over to you, looking up at you with wide eyes.

You shake your head and promise, “You’ll be okay. He’s not as much of a hard-ass as he pretends to be. Besides, you’re blameless. You’ll get off free and Druid will get a slap on the wrist. He should get more— he acted like a damn idiot.”

“You really didn’t have to do that.” Melissa murmurs, as you place a gentle hand on her back and lead her toward the housing halls, “I- I didn’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Believe me, it’s my pleasure.” You huff, “Get your clothes and go jump in the shower. He isn’t as scary as he looks, but he is a stickler for punctuality. You’re better off being ten minutes early than one second late.”

“Okay.” She agrees, “Thank you, Y/N.”

You give her a soft smile and squeeze her shoulder carefully, “You’re welcome.”

The tension was back once more. You could feel it creeping up your back, holding onto your shoulders, eating at your insides. The satisfying feeling of having used it all for some good settled your nerves slightly. But you knew it was there, ready to creep up on you at any moment. It would rear its head at the most inconvenient time and all of a sudden you’d be back in that cloud, constantly wishing for bloodshed. It wasn’t that you wanted to hurt anyone, really. It was just that you were tired of hurting yourself, keeping it all in, holding onto it all, trying to keep control. But that’s what Daddy was for.

You had just sat outside his office when the door opened, Melissa walking out with a large smile, and Stephen close behind. He stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder and she turned to face him.

“Now I’m serious, Melissa. If you have any more issues like this please come directly to me. I will not tolerate situations like that at Kamar-Taj under my watch. This is a safe space for everyone.”

You could see the pink flushing her cheeks from a mile away, and the stuttered, “I- yes, sir. Thank you, Master Strange.”

“Of course, Hun. Now go have a good rest of your night.”  With that, Melissa skipped away. Strange turned and raised a brow at you asking, “What do you have that sour look on your face for?”

“Hun?” You scowl, “And she was grinning ear to ear walking out of the room. What the hell did you two do in there?”

Stephen rolls his eyes and shoves open the office door, using a hand to gesture you in. After a moment longer of stewing in your jealousy you stand and walk in, taking in the surroundings and deciding it looked and smelled too clean for a post-sex room. Strange came in behind you and walked over to his desk, waving a hand so the hoard of books atop the desk stacked themselves. He sat gently atop the desk and gave a nod to you and the chair in front of him. You’d been in this chair so many times now it might as well have had your name carved into the back of it. You’d arrived at Kamar-Taj at twenty-three, and in the first year had found yourself in the chair nearly every day and the year after wasn’t too different. However, over the last year or so the number of times you’d found yourself in the chair had waned— admittedly only due to the number of times you found yourself laid out on the couch or bent over the desk. You walked over and plopped down in the chair, slouching down with a small pout on your lips, arms crossed over your chest, and pushing your tits up… intentionally, of course.

“Now then, what’s your side of the story, Sweetheart?”

“Did you call her that too?” You sneer

“I’m gonna’ need you to fix your goddamn attitude and drop the jealousy act. Green isn’t a good color on you.” Stephen continues, “Just tell me what you did and why you did it and we’ll go from there.”

“I saw Melissa attempt to tap out of her chokehold more than a few times. She was clearly in distress and clearly tapping out but that dickhead wouldn’t let her go. She could have gotten hurt but he was too busy trying to act like big man on campus beating up on a girl half his size. I figured since he was so confident in his ability to subdue the new girl, I would let him try with someone who’d been here longer.”

“Mhm…” He hums, “And how did the bloody nose factor into that?”

“Had to get him on the ground somehow.” You mutter, “Swift elbow to the nose did it.”

“And how long had he been on the ground when I found your little scene?”

“Couldn’t tell you, honestly. Wasn’t really watching the stopwatch.”

“You badly injured another student—“

“To prove a point.”

“A point that made no sense given your whole issue in the first place was his hurting her.”

“But I bet he won’t do it again.” You say stubbornly

He looks you over for a long time before deciding, “You’ll be scrubbing the courtyard on your hands and knees tomorrow until the whole thing looks new.” He raises a hand before you object, “I will not take any other suggestions and will also be supervising. You will wear your robes and you will not strip when it gets hot. You will start at five in the morning and continue until I believe your job is done. Are we clear?”

You smirk and dig, “You sure you don’t want me to wear those black spandex shorts you like?”

“I already told you what you’ll wear.”

“But I’d be so much more fun to watch with my ass and tits out.” You stick out your bottom lip and give your shoulders a slight shimmy. “C’mon, we both know you love me.”

“I’d love you a helluva’ lot more if you could keep that mouth shut and hands to yourself.” He says monotonously, “Now tell me what time you’ll be in the courtyard tomorrow, and tell me what you’ll do.”

“I will be in the courtyard tomorrow at five in the morning, full sorcerer garb, prepared to scrub every inch of it until you’re satisfied.” You can’t help but bat your lashes up at him and tease, “You know I always satisfy, Master.”

“I’d beg to differ. I’m feeling pretty unsatisfied with your behavior at the moment, but that’s alright.” He pushes off the desk and starts circling around your chair. He pauses behind you and grabs your hair, holding his hand out at your side. You hold up your wrist and he rolls the hair band off and around his own. You tilt your head back and he slowly ties your hair off of your face. He trails his hand down and wraps one of his large, slender hands around your throat, his eyes boring into your own as he asks, “You’ve been a very bad girl, Baby. You know I have to punish you, don’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy.” You agree, attempting to hold back a wicked smile at the thought

“Stand up and undress. Leave on your underthings. Then go pick which paddle you want Daddy to use and bring your chair over in front of the couch. Daddy’s going to tie you up— and because you had so much to say while Melissa was on her way out— I think I’ll gag that disrespectful mouth too. Acting like a fucking brat— like I’d ever look at another woman that way.” You pout at the last part. You hated being gagged. You liked being able to vocalize your pain and pleasure. Having that ability taken from you was cruel… and sexy. Stephen just shakes his head at your little sulk and nods to the floor in front of him. “Strip. Quickly.”

He doesn’t bother to stand and watch as you lift yourself off the chair and begin removing your robes. You fold them neatly and place them on a clean stack atop his desk the way he’d taught you. You walk over to the chest in front of the hearth and get down on your knees, sifting through the paddles. You didn’t want the wooden one, it hurt like a bitch, but he was likely to give you fewer spankings if you chose a harsher paddle so the soft leather was off the table. If you just asked for his hand he’d likely give you no less than thirty— that you had learned the hard way. So, you took the even route and selected the rubber paddle with little ridges and grooves across it.

You walk back over to your chair and start dragging it across the floor and Stephen corrects sharply, “I know you aren’t scuffing my floors right now.”

You turn to sneer at him but can’t deny some of the edge of your stare is taken off when you see him already naked, legs spread, arms splayed over the back of the couch, muscles on full display. One thing you appreciated the most about Stephen Strange was his lack of timidity. He had never once pretended to be ashamed of any part of his naked form. The man knew he was built like a god. You lifted the chair and carried it over, setting it directly in front of him. You sat down and put yourself into perfect posture, chin held high, eyes cast to the wall behind him. You didn’t look at him until he said so. 

The paddle sitting neatly in your lap was slowly dragged from your hands and into his own. You heard him give a little hum observing your weapon of punishment and you could tell from the small sound alone he was satisfied. Your breath caught as he reached back out and slowly dragged the paddle across your thigh. It was cold from being in that dark box, the little ridges pulling at your skin slightly and making you tense in anticipation.

“Look at me, Baby.” You dropped your gaze to look at him and he set the paddle to the side, holding up a ball gag instead. You cringed internally thinking about how sore your jaw would be the next day, but that’s what you get for all that backtalk. “If you take everything like a good girl…” He starts, leaning forward and motioning you to do the same, “I might take it off before we finish. But only if you take your punishment for being a bad girl. Understand?”

“Yes, Daddy.” You murmur with a little pout, opening your mouth as he brings the gag up to your face

“Show Daddy what your safe signal is since he can’t hear your safe word.” You snap twice and he compliments, “Good girl.” Stephen’s voice softens as he secures the gag, “You could have gotten yourself hurt. He could have retaliated against you or caught you off guard. You could have gotten hurt and I wouldn’t have been there to protect you. You know how that upsets me, Baby.” You glance up at him, eyes actually remorseful, aware he meant every bit of it. Stephen knew about your temper and while the two of you had broken most of your fighting habits, the red clouding your vision still won out from time to time. 

“You’re supposed to come to me when you’re having a bad day.” You make a small noise of protest and Stephen reads your mind, “I know Melissa could have gotten hurt, but you could have gotten me or another Master rather than taking matters into your own hands.” He sighs, “I would have rewarded you for being so good, but now I have to punish you, Baby Girl.” He takes your chin between his thumb and pointer finger and sighs, “As I said, if you’re a good girl while you take your punishment, I’ll take off the gag. If you act like a brat, it will stay on.” He points the paddle to the couch, “Lean over the back of the couch and stick out your ass. Keep your head up and look at the wall. No hiding your face.”

You do exactly as he asks, arching your back for him as much as possible for him. You spread your knees so he had a clear view of both your ass and pussy. He liked to watch you get wet through the fabric, and tonight the soft baby blue booty shorts with little peach pictures across the fabric would show as you started leaking for him. The top was cut off right below your breasts, hugging them too loosely, the bright white color making the peaks of your nipples glaringly obvious. The soft fabric felt so ice against the taut skin and you liked seeing his eyes track the movement of your breasts in your little tops like this. You and he both liked the comfy nightwear he’d bought you. There were onesies and sleep shirts and cute little sets like this one he had spent countless dollars on. Whenever he asked you to wear something pretty you went straight for those sets. They were simple and you always felt so cute in them.

Your skin prickles as you feel his hand run over your ass cheek, quickly bunching the fabric to expose more of the globes of your ass. Two large fingers tease down your ass crack and around to your slit where you’re already undeniably soaking your panties. Your eyes flutter closed and you hold back the whine that begs to force its way up your throat. It was too soon to give him the satisfaction. Your plan was quickly foiled when his hand cracked down over your ass. You gave a muffled yelp— due more to the shock of the action— the first hits were never hard, he just wanted to bring the blood to the surface so he could start making it hurt.

You grit your teeth against the ball in your mouth and do your best to relax your body, breathing deeply and enjoying the moment. This wasn’t what you’d expected when you came to Kamar-Taj. Yes, you’d been hoping to find some peace and practice self-control. But you thought it would be a spiritual process, you hadn’t expected your Master to introduce you to a sexual one on top of it.

Nor had you expected to fall so madly in love with him either.

The mystic arts were cool, but Stephen was where you had found your peace.

He was strong and stable and confident. He’d known what you needed before you ever told him. He could sense the red blurring your peripheral but never let you drown in it. He was the firm hand, the silent constant you’d been looking for your whole life.

You gave a squeal as you felt the first lash of the paddle against your backside. Your nails dug into the couches upholstery, your body rocking forward. Tears immediately stung at your eyes and you were frustrated beyond belief to not be able to vocalize your pain. But that was part of his rules. If you couldn’t speak to him and others with respect, you didn’t get to speak at all.”

“Twenty tonight.” He rumbles behind you

Watching your pretty little ass flush red had become one of Stephen’s favorite past times. The whimper you’d let out hearing how many spankings you owed him made his cock twitch. And it was twenty hits with the paddle specifically that you owed him. He could punch, pull, squeeze, and tease anywhere else he wanted the whole time. It was his favorite game to play, watching you shiver and moan as he trailed his hands over your body, watching the wet spot on your panties grow darker and wider.

“So fucking pretty…” He murmurs to himself, reaching the paddle beneath you and teasing your clit in soft circles

By the tenth hit you’d been bucking back into his swings wildly, silently begging for more, chin resting on the back of the couch to support the weight of your head as you grew limp. You’d taken your punishment well, stilling when he commanded and biting back your muffled cries when he demanded. He’d decided to take off the gag by swat fifteen. He could deny it all he wanted and train you to consider your choice of words for a lifetime, but deep down you both knew he liked your smart mouth. It kept him on his toes, made him laugh, and forced a smile to his lips. He loved what you considered to be one of your worst qualities… but as you’d asked him to help learn to control it, he would gag you when the situation called for it.

And suggesting he would ever speak, touch, or look at another woman the way he did you was well worth the gag.

“Keep your back arched.” He reminds you, sneaking two fingers down and rubbing at your pussy softly, “God, so wet. Supposed to be a punishment but you love having your pretty little ass spanked red. What a slut.” You give a little moan and Stephen can imagine your pussy clenching around nothing. He brings the paddle down over your left ass cheek and you jump having been unprepared for that swing. “I need to see your face, Baby.”

Stephen raises his left hand and with a simple gesture a rope of golden magic extends, wrapping around your neck, the other end still in his hand like a collar. He yanks on the golden string and your head lulls back, eyes hooded and teary, cheeks tear-stained and flushed, drool wetting your chin and dripping out around the ball gag. Stephen slams the paddle down over your left ass cheek and watches your eyes roll back into your head. He delivers another to the opposite cheek quickly, and you groan the best you can. Stephen steps forward and to provide himself some relief begins to rut himself between your clothed ass cheeks. Dropping the paddle close by on the couch he reaches around you and takes your breasts in hand, pinching your nipples and resting his forehead against your own. Your breaths come in as a short staccato and he was fairly certain your tongue would be hanging out of your mouth if it could. 

“That feel good, Baby Girl?” He teases, “I know you like it when Daddy plays with your body.” You nod at him enthusiastically and grind your ass back against him. “Mm, you feel how hard I am for you? It’s because you’ve been such a good girl. Taking your punishment so well. Daddy’s so proud of you.” Your eyes go all soft as you stare up at him, total adoration in your gaze. “I love you so much Baby Girl.” He murmurs, caressing your cheek gently, “Now, I’m going to take the gag off. I need you to stay as quiet for me until I ask you to speak. Blink twice if you understand.”

You blink twice quickly and Stephen gives a little chuckle, dropping his hold on the makeshift leash, your head immediately lulling forward. Bringing his fingers to the small buckle at the back of your head he makes quick work of the ball gag. He sees your shoulders slump in relief as he tosses the gag to the end of the couch, a shaky breath leaving your lips. Stephen takes up the paddle again and runs it over your backside as a warning. He waits until your body relaxes once more to bring the silicone down over your bottom, more gently than the last few blows. He can hear you choke back a noise, your forehead resting against the back of the couch.

He delivers another blow to the same cheek and instructs, “Keep your head up Baby Girl.” He pulls gently on the leash to right the position of your head. “Now remind me, why are you being punished?”

“Because I got in a fight.” You murmur

Slap, the sound of the paddle coming down over your ass rings through the room.

“And what should you have done instead?”

“I- I should’ve gotten a M-Master.”

Slap.

Stephen gives a hum of confirmation and asks, “And why doesn’t Daddy like it when you get in fights?”

“‘Cause I c-could’ve gotten hurt.”

Slap.

“And does Daddy want to see you get hurt or hurt you?”

You shake your head and answer, “No, sir.”

Slap.

“So why does he spank you?”

“To leave a reminder.”

Slap.

“A reminder of what?” He presses, running his hand over the globes of your ass, the skin hot to the touch

“A reminder to practice self-control.”

Slap.

“Good Girl. Now what do you do?” Stephen asks, wrapping his hand around your throat and tilting your head back, needing to look in your eyes to know whether or not you tell the truth

And he can tell your apology is genuine when you say confidently, “I’m sorry I g-got into a fight and scared you, Daddy. And I’m sorry I back-talked you.”

The last swat of the paddle was always the hardest and always delivered immediately after a genuine apology. So Stephen didn’t scold you when the black silicone landed over your ass with a crack and you let out a cry, pain and pleasure having overwhelmed your system entirely. He threw the silicone paddle to the side with the ball gag and sat on the couch, relaxing back into the cushions with a deep sigh. You didn’t move until he gave his thighs a pat, at which point you scrambled into his lap, straddling him and not so subtly rubbing yourself against his bare erection. 

Stephen kissed your lips, snaking his tongue into your mouth and letting you drink from him as he ran his hands over your throbbing ass cheeks to help soothe the sting. The whimpers you released into his mouth at the sensation made him greedy, his cock impossibly hard and just as red as your ass. You broke the kiss and snuggled into his neck, leaving soft kisses and moving back up to nibble at his goatee. Stephen runs his hands up and down your back, gently rocking you, allowing you to calm down for a moment. You’d had a rough day and he recognized that what you had done was for the benefit of another person, so he didn’t see it fit to treat you too harshly. He just wanted to give you a moment to breathe.

“Did I do good, Daddy?” You murmur against his neck softly

“Yes, Baby. You did so good for me. I’m so proud of you.” He replies, stroking your ponytail softly, making you preen like a happy cat under his touch. “How does my girl feel?”

Stephen knew immediately you had entered your little space. You weren’t as talkative as normal and rather than just shouting to him and everyone else in a five-mile radius about how horny you were, you gave him a shy smile and buried your face in his neck. He cooed at you softly as you squirmed in his lap, looking for friction between your legs. Stephen pulled you farther forward until you were sitting over his erection and rocked his hips up into you gently. You gave a little whimper, your fingers pulling gently at his hair.

“Is my Baby Girl feeling needy?” He whispers in your ear. You nod yes and Stephen pushes, “What do you need from Daddy, Pretty Girl?” You give him an embarrassed sort of whine and Stephen chuckles, reaching up and pulling your face from the crook of his neck gently. He brushes your hair back behind your ear and asks, “Are you feeling tingly?”

You nod frantically, “In my tummy, Daddy.”

Stephen wondered in the back of his mind what had made him like this. Where in his life had he become so obsessed with protecting the innocence of things? What about you in this totally willing, trusting, naive state sent him reeling the way it did? 

He knew your own anger and outbursts were the result of lack of control in your childhood, and this little state hadn’t been something you’d explicitly known beforehand but had described to him. Stephen had been endeared, wanting more than anything to offer the safety and comfort you craved. Not to mention, when he’d found out about your disruptive behavior and desire to change for the better, he went from endeared to head over heels. He knew better than anyone what it took to want to change and to get to play a part in that change was an honor.

And there was the mind-blowing sex attached to it all as the cherry on top.

You felt all floaty and distant. All you could feel was Daddy’s hands on your waist. His deep voice resounded around you and you knew you were supposed to answer him, but you didn’t know how to tell him what you wanted. You just knew that the hard thing below you made the tingling feelings in your special place stronger. You pressed yourself against him harder and buried your face in his neck. Daddy always smelled so good and it just made you tingle more.

“Yeah, Baby? Are you feeling all tingly?” You blush and try to bury yourself deeper in his neck, but he doesn’t like that. He pulls you back so he can look in your eyes, his big hands still sitting on your waist making you feel warm. “C’mon, Baby Girl.” He coaxes, “You tell Daddy what you’re feeling and he’ll help you.”

Shyly you murmur, “Feel weird in my special spot, Daddy.” He lets out a low hum and one of his hands falls to that special spot, his thumb pressing lightly into the place that relieves the pulsating for a moment before it comes back full force. You wiggle your hips toward him and whimper, “Yes, right there, Daddy.”

“Mhm…” He hums, leaning in and licking gently at your earlobe. Your arms break out into goose bumps and you can’t help but giggle at the feeling of his beard against your skin. “I can make you feel all better, My Baby Girl. Do you want me to make you feel better?”

You bounce up and down in his lap excitedly, “Yes, please!”

“You have to promise to be a good girl and do everything I tell you.” He says seriously, both of his hands moving upward and tracing the outline of your hips and waist, all the way up to your chest where his thumbs skim at the outer edge of your breasts slightly

You nod eagerly, “Yes, Daddy. I promise.”

He teases you for a while, his fingertips brushing your underboob hanging out of your tiny top, his eyes looking back and forth between each peaked nipple. You give a shocked little squeak when he suddenly leans down and takes one of the buds between his lips, suckling on it gently over the fabric. The sensation makes you feel even more needy and you give a small whine to express your need. Daddy brings one hand back down to your hip and starts rocking you back and forth slowly. His hard part feels so nice against your special place. His big fingers pinching at your nipples make your whole body shake and the twisting in your tummy turns to somersaults. 

“Lift up your arms and let Daddy take off your shirt, Pretty Girl.” He instructs. You raise your arms and he carefully pulls your shirt over your head, the cold air against your skin making you shiver. He lets out a deep sigh and reclines back against the couch, his eyes looking at your naked skin making you feel special. You like it when Daddy looks at you like that. And you really like it when he tells you, “You are so pretty, Baby Girl. Love these pretty tits so much.” 

He reaches out and pinches one of your nipples making you flinch and chuckles, “You’re such a responsive little thing. So desperate and needy for your Daddy, huh?” You nod and try to place your hand over your special part to rub against, but he stops you quickly and scolds, “Uh-uh. My Baby doesn’t touch herself. Only Daddy touches her there.” He rolls his hips up against you and you gasp aloud, “Use your words instead of trying to touch yourself like a slut.”

“Touch me please, Daddy.” You murmur shyly

He instructs, “Stand up and take off your bottoms for Daddy. Then come sit your bum in his lap.”

You nod and stand up on unsteady legs. You shimmy your shorts down your legs and hand them to Daddy. He folds them and places them to the side before holding his arms out in invitation. You toddle back over and he pulls you into his lap. His special toy sits hard underneath your bum, and his big hands grab at your thighs softly. He spreads your legs, planting one foot on either side of his legs. The cold air makes your special spot tingle, but as Daddy slides his hand over the whole thing your body goes warm. He runs one finger through your slit and you shiver, a little mewl escaping your lips. 

You turn your face to look up at him and plead, “Kisses, Daddy.”

His lips immediately slot over yours and you moan into his mouth. He tasted so comforting, his hands roaming your body felt so safe. He always made you feel so good when he touched you. You moan once more when his fingers prod at your hole, one slipping inside and stroking your walls softly.

“God, you’re so wet but still so tight, Baby Girl. Relax for Daddy. Make room for him to slide into this pretty pussy so he can make you feel really good.” You clench around him and he chuckles, “Yeah? You want Daddy to slide inside and fuck you?”

“Yes, Daddy! Yes, ple—ase!” You cry out as he slides a second finger into your hole, “Wanna play, Daddy. Wanna play.”

“You wanna play with Daddy’s cock, Baby Girl?” He asks, sliding his free hand up to pull and pinch at your nipples. He angels your body differently so he can lean down and suck on one of the taut buds. You cry out, wrapping one arm around his neck and pulling at his hair. You grind back into his erection and he groans into your ear, making your neck break out into goosebumps. “Good Girl.” He mumbles, “Such a good girl. Make Daddy feel so good. Rubbing that cute little ass all over his cock.”

“It feels s’big, Daddy.”

He gives a grunt and sinks his teeth into your neck. You take your free hand and grab his own resting across your breasts. He intertwines your fingers and kisses your temple sweetly. You give a gasp as he removes his finger and using only one arm lifts you up far enough to situate his erection between your legs, his shaft landing against your mound. 

“Reach down and put it inside Baby Girl.” He instructs

You reach down with a shaky hand and guide him to your entrance. You whimper as he slowly lowers you down his shaft, his head stretching you, his slick, soft shaft making you cry out in pleasure as it glides through your hole. When you’re sat firmly over his cock, he reaches under your knees and grabs your thighs roughly, kneading at the skin while kissing over your neck and shoulders.

“Feels so good, Baby. Pussy’s all warm and wet for me. You’re such a good little slut for your Daddy, aren’t you?” You nod and a squeal is forced from your lips as he lifts you up only to let you fall back down, impaling you on his length. He moans aloud and praises, “Yes, so good. Such a good slut for Daddy.” He growls into your shoulder and demands, “Tell me how you feel, Baby. Talk to me.”

“I-it feels so, so good, Daddy. It’s so big inside me.” You whine, “It h-hurts, b-b-but it feels too good.” You stutter out as he continues working you up and down his length, “I love it when Daddy plays with me.”

“That’s right.” He says, dropping his hold on your legs and placing your feet on the couch. He gives your hip a light slap, “Now bounce up and down for me.”

Planting your feet as steadily as you can you start squatting up and down. You loved the way it made you feel being on top of him. He reached so deep inside you it made your whole body shake. If it weren’t for his hands on your hips, you may have collapsed on top of him. He was so strong, it always felt like you weighed nothing to him. So big and strong and sexy.

“S’deep…” You whine, placing a hand over your stomach, “I can feel it in my tummy. It makes me shaky all over. I like it so much.”

You feel his toy twitch inside you at the declaration. Daddy always liked when you told him how big his toy was. He said it was only because you looked so little next to him, but you didn’t think so. He was just a big, strong man.

“That’s good, Baby. I want to make you feel good.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”

He grabs your ponytail and tilts your head back. Your rhythm stutters as he slides his tongue into your mouth. You moan as his tongue strokes your own, your head spinning as Daddy stops your motions and instead holds you still, your thighs burning from the essential workout you just did. You squeal as he begins thrusting up into you slowly. It’s so good but so slow. 

“More!” You cry out, “Need more, please!”

Stephen couldn’t help but hold you tighter… and he had to in order to pound into you the way you wanted. He started jackhammering up into your heat, his own groans mixing with your cries of ecstasy. His third thrust made you shake in his arms and it took all his strength to hold you up. Stephen wrapped his arms around you tight and in one swift motion had you on all fours with his cock buried deep inside you. 

“Oh… Daddy!” You call out, “Yes, right there, please, please, please!”

“Fuck yes.” Stephen hisses as you clench around his cock. Grabbing your hips he starts pounding into you, “Beg for it like the whore you are. My perfect little slut. She loves feeling my cock buried deep in her pussy, doesn’t she?” You whimper, your arms slipping against the fabric of the couch cushions as he rails into you. He looks down at your ass and groans at the sight of your cherry red ass cheeks, so pretty and positioned perfectly for him. “Your little ass is so red, Baby. My handprint on both your cheeks. Love leaving my mark on you. So pretty. You like letting Daddy teach you a lesson and leaving his mark on you?”

“Yes!” You squeal, “Daddy, please! I-I feel so good, it’s so good… I’m gonna- Daddy, I’m gonna—“

“Hold it!” He barks, “Don’t you cum until I tell you to. Do you understand?”

You whine and claw at the couch cushions in front of you, your eyes rolling back in your head as you argue, “Daddy, I can’t! Can’t make it stop!”

He lets out an inhuman growl and reaching forward grabs you around the throat. He tilts your head back and his cock throbs at the image of tears streaming down your face, lips parted, and tongue sticking partway out of your mouth as you pant for air. You looked disheveled and thoroughly fucked and he loved it.

Leaning down, Stephen places his lips against your own and grits out, “Hold it until Daddy tells you, or he’ll have to spank you again.” You peer up at him and shift on his cock, looking for the friction he’d stopped providing. He grunts and readjusts your positioning so you’re on your knees, back pressed to his front. “Say, ‘yes, Daddy.’” He demands

“Y-yes, Daddy. Please.” You whimper at him

As he starts thrusting again, he squeezes your throat gently and your mouth pops open. He takes to licking and sucking at your tongue while fucking into you hard and slow. With his free hand he reaches down to rub at your clit, all swollen and throbbing beneath his touch. You moan into his mouth, your body going limp as your walls start to flutter around him. He opens his eyes and pulls away to watch your own eyes roll back in your head. He looks down and watches your tits jump with every thrust into your quivering cunt. You were right on the edge still and from your desperate whine and your grip around the wrist of his hand playing with your pussy, you weren’t going to last much longer. Luckily for you, neither was he.

“Daddy!” You gasp, whole body shaking once more, “Daddy, stop! I’m gonna’ pee!”

Stephen growled and sunk his teeth into your neck and demanded, “Don’t try to hold it, Baby Girl. Let go. Let go and squirt for Daddy.”  He pounds into you just a tad bit harder and you squeal, your hand trying desperately to pull his own away from your clit to avoid what you feared would be an accident. But Stephen wasn’t having any of it. He barked out, “Yes, Baby Girl! Let go for me, now!”

With one more thrust against your g-spot, Stephen watched as you fell apart in his arms. You let out a scream so loud it would be a miracle if those walking past his office didn’t hear. Your lips plead a mixture of Daddy and his name over and over again as you convulsed against him, squeezing his cock and drenching his hand simultaneously. Your one hand on his wrist grew limp while the one around his neck and in his hair pulled harshly. 

Stephen relented to his own orgasm whispering in your ear, “Take my cum, Baby Girl. Take it deep in this pretty little pussy.”

By the time Stephen stopped thrusting, you were limp on his cock, your body falling back into his own, limbs seemingly incapable of supporting themselves. He heaved a sigh and wrapped you tight in his arms falling back against the arm of the couch, turning you around and cradling you against his chest. You give a soft murmur of something unintelligible and wrap your arms around his shoulders. He places a soft kiss on the top of your head, reaching up and carefully untying your ponytail, and massaging your scalp.

“You okay, Pretty Girl?”

“Yes, Daddy…” You nod against his chest softly

“Are you hurting anywhere right now?”

“My butt.” You pout

He gives a low chuckle, running one large hand over your back, “Yeah? Twenty hits with the paddle will do that, huh?”

“M’yeah.”

“And why did you get the paddle?”

“‘Cause I was a bad girl n’ got in a fight and—“ You’re cut off momentarily by a sleepy little yawn that draws a smile to Stephen’s face, “‘N I coulda’ gotten hurt and that would make Daddy sad.”

“That’s right. What are you gonna do next time you see something like that happening?”

“Get a Master.”

“Good girl.” Stephen compliments, kissing your forehead and saying, “C’mon, Pretty Girl. Let’s go get you in the bath. I’m gonna shower and then we’re gonna get nice and warm and go to sleep, yeah?”

You give him a silent nod in response, eyes already fluttering closed as you rest your head against his sweat-soaked chest. Stephen heaved a sigh and readjusted you so he could wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. Before opening a portal Stephe crouched down and collected the clothes he’d left on the couch, his own robes— pulling his slingy out of his pocket— and your robes stacked neatly on his desk. Holding you tight to his torso with one arm he slide on the sling ring and opened a portal to his room at the Sanctum. When he went to place you down on the bed you whined and hugged his neck tighter. Stephen chuckled and tossed the dirty clothes in robes in the morning to deal with tomorrow.

In the bathroom he leaned down and turned the water as hot as possible, plugging the drain and asking judiciously, “If you let me put you down, I’ll let you pour your own bubbles in the bath tonight.” 

Your head shoots up from his shoulder, eyes wide with excitement. You start wiggling to get down and Stephen sets you down on the edge of the bath with a laugh. Reaching over to the corner where your body wash, shampoo, and conditioner were, he grabbed the bubble bath that perpetually existed for your pleasure. He unscrewed the cap and handed it over, sighing but not objecting when you dumped in nearly half the bottle before handing it back to him, giggling in delight as the fluffy white bubbles fill the tub. 

“Reach down there and see if it’s too hot for me, Pretty Girl.” Stephen asks, always slightly embarrassed he wasn’t able to check the temperature of the water himself first if he wasn’t able to get in with you. You reach down and poke your index finger into the water, withdrawing it and turning the cold water on to run for a minute. After a few minutes, you check once again and give him a nod. “Alright, Y/N…” Stephen gives a little groan as he scoops you up and lowers you into the water gently, “I’m gonna’ get you all clean and then take a shower. After that, it’s bedtime.” 

You pout up at him, “But I don’t want it to be bedtime yet.”

“Well, that’s too bad.” He raises one brow and reminds you, “You and I have to be up extra early so you can start your cleaning in the courtyard.”

Your frown deepens as he cups water in his hand and starts to wet down your hair, “I wish you wouldn’t make me wear the robes. S’too hot in the robes.”

“Part of the rules, Baby.” Stephen says, “Tell you what: we can stay up and talk a bit before bedtime. What do you say?”

You nod enthusiastically and agree, “We talk.”

“Alright.”

You smile up at him, batting your lashes and murmuring, “Thank you, Daddy.”

“You’re welcome, Baby Girl.”

He put you in the bed right after your bath and told you to stay there all tucked in until he came back. You’d wanted to play in the bath with your duckies while he showered, but he told you you had to rest a bit if you wanted to stay up and talk. And you wanted to stay up and talk, you really did. But the longer you spent staring at the warm haze of the bathroom light through the cracked door waiting for him to come back, the sleepier and sleepier you felt. Your eyelids were so heavy you couldn’t even pry them open. With your arms wrapped around your pillow tight in place of him you started drifting off to sleep. 

Still, somewhere in your haze you heard the water shut off and after you couldn’t tell how long the bed dipped, his weight setting in next to you. Your body was too tired to do much of anything, but when his big arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you to him with a little grunt, a small smile formed on your lips. 

You felt the fabric of your shirt collar that you’d been chewing on slip from between your lips and gave a little whine, displeased with the interruption. Stephen soothed your small cry with a soft kiss to your lips… several times. You reached up and thrust your hand into his thick hand of hair and let your fingers fuss with the strands slowly. He gave a contented sigh, his body relaxing next to your own and you took the opportunity to wiggle your arm under the pillow his head rest against. 

“Good night, Baby. I’ll make sure you’re up on time tomorrow.” He whispers oh so softly, the deep gravel of his voice lulling you one step closer to sleep

There’s a brief pause as you try to formulate a coherent sentence in you fogged kind, but all that comes out in return is, “Love, Stephen.”

He chuckles lowly and buried his nose in your hair, squeezing you tighter and replying, “I love you back, Pretty Girl.”

And as you drift off to sleep, there's no red. Only the comfort of the darkness and the warmth of Stephen's body next to your own.

tag list: @yuu-chan-is-still-a-student12 @fireworksinthesky @pinkthick @cumbrbatchbenedict @newavenger @evelyn-kingsley @aphroditesdilemma @ironstrange1991 @strangeobsessed @iamsherlocked1479 @rmoonstoner @the-royal-petals @avahiddlestonstan @rookiemartin @azu21 @meeom @vickiee-mcmuffin @vi0letdaze

Hi! AHHH YOUR REQUESTS ARE OPEN you’re my absolute favourite author on here, it’s literally like Christmas.

So I was wondering if you could do the sex pollen trope where the fem!reader messes with some spell or another and is in so much physical pain with the arousal that Stephen has to step in and help her? He’s been denying feelings for his apprentice for so long, but when they’re both done they both go soft for one another and realise how much they needed it.

Thank you so much (also you’re amazing again)!

Test #4

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT! PLEASE BE ADVISED, THIS FIC REVOLVES HEAVILY AROUND NON-CONSENSUAL/CNC SEX!!! The end of the story reveals that it is in fact totally consensual all along. While the reader does have feelings for Stephen, she has a feigned innocence that he takes advantage of under the influence of sex pollen. DO NOT read further if you are disturbed by this theme. Other warnings include corruption kink, coercion, and breeding kink.

Word Count: 7,460

Reading time: ≈ 27 mins.

A/N: Did I twist this request? Yes. Do I regret it? No. I hope you still enjoy it even if it's not exactly what you requested!

The trauma influenced this one for real. But I love Steph’s dirty talk as always 🤪 Were you able to piece the story together by the end?

18+ or i haunt you like a ghost from ur past <3!

His head was clouded in a complete haze of the most basic primal urge known to man: lust. It had been something in the air on that damned planet, something with a sweet and heady smell, something sticky and yellow that clung to the fibers of his robes and had forced him to throw the Cloak in the washing machine— which it detested and now resented him for.

Stephen resented the fact that from the first whiff of the aroma his cock had sprung to life and refused to die the pleasurable death to resolve the situation. He had gotten so close so may times, but something in his system always resisted. 

He had been grateful no other Masters or students had joined him on the journey, as he almost certainly would have died of embarrassment had anyone seen him in such a state. He had portaled straight into his room at the Sanctum to avoid seeing anyone and immediately stumbled into the shower. His hands had shown improvements over the years in being able to pleasure himself once more, but tonight of all nights they were failing him. At least, he assumed it had to do with his hands.

He had hoped after drying off that the issue might resolve itself, but instead, it only persisted and became stronger. His heart was beating so rapidly it was the only thing he could hear, his chest was heaving and no amount of meditation could calm him, he was so hot he couldn’t bare the idea of putting on clothes— even the silk sheets beneath his back had grown damp in a puddle of clean sweat from his temperature— and not to mention the persistent erection that hadn’t wavered once in nearly five hours now. He was in pain. Only the pain of his hands in the first few days of waking in the hospital compared to this level of excruciation.

And it wasn’t just his physical person either. His mind was torturing him as well. He was thinking unthinkable things, considering unspeakable acts that even in his already tainted and adventurous sexual life were debauched. Even worse, it was you as the lead role in every scene.

Sweet, gentle, shy little thing you were. Stephen couldn’t deny his attraction to you any more than he could deny his arousal at the moment. He’d known you for a year now, learned your fascination with the mystical flora and fauna, and resolutely asked the other Masters to consider giving you free rein of the decaying and ignored greenhouse at the farthest end of Kamar-Taj’s fortress. He spent a good deal of time poking around your business, asking little questions, and slowly opening you up. At some point, he realized with certainty you harbored a crush on him as much as he harbored one for you, but you were too timid and he was afraid acting on his feelings so soon would prove disastrous.

But now? Now in his current state, all he could think about was acting on his feelings. Those very base feelings that he would have never otherwise given a whisper of suggestion to in your presence. The sort of instincts men nowadays try to keep hidden beneath the surface so as to not appear absolute brutes. You, who still blushed when he complimented you on your care of the plants or the way you’d styled your hair. You, who once brushed your hand against his own and entered such a fit of embarrassment he couldn’t get you to look at him for three days straight. You, you were the sole object of his malicious attraction.

He couldn’t think straight, he couldn’t think fair, he couldn’t even think decent. And maybe that’s why he found himself up and out of the bed, toweling off his body once more, attempting to slip into clothes that clung to his dampened skin. Maybe that’s why he opened a portal to Kamar-Taj and shut it before the Cloak could fly through— the morality of the fabric would interfere with his plans. It was late at night, or perhaps very early in the morning depending on how one chose to look at it. Either way the Nepalese sky was black as could be, tiny speckles of silver and a large full moon shedding light on the earth below.

Stephen was hardly in control of his own body as he moved through the night, soundless and determined to find the object of his desires. And he knew all at once he’d found you when he looked over the little balcony he stood on to find the dim lights of the greenhouse still on at this hour. Without a single idea what he was about to do or any consideration of the consequences he set toward the stairs and descended them hurriedly. His erection was still straining, tucked into the waistband of a pair of sweats he had tied far too tight simply to keep his member in place. That, combined with the larger sweatshirt he wore, appropriately disguised any pretense he had for seeking you out.

And there was no denying what his intentions were.

You hummed softly to yourself, wiping over the leaves of your newest plant carefully. You had procured it from a witch who had claimed it was being ravaged by mites of some sort. You agreed to take the plant and nurse it back to health if she promised to give you one-fourth of the fruit it produced once blossomed. The fruit was berry-like, something that could be confused with a blueberry save for its greenish hue. The purpose of the plant was immunity to invasion of the mind for an indiscriminate period of time, which you had only found through research, but upon realizing knew would be an invaluable asset to your sorcerer family one of these days. 

It was late and you should have been asleep, but as so many nights before you had failed to find any rest. Insomnia had taken over your nights recently, rendering you incapable of fading odd into any sort of peaceful sleep. Instead, you tossed and turned for hours, the strangest sense of something missing weighing on your mind. Your body was constantly anxious, searching, almost hungry, but for what you didn’t know!  

So you turned to the one thing that brought you comfort more than anything: your plants. There was something about caring for a living thing otherwise destined to become extinct or struggle to flourish that brought you so much joy. You had always been a natural caretaker and it was the one and only thing you ever let yourself feel overly prideful about. You knew without a doubt you had found what you were born to do when it came to botanicals.

You gently carried the little bush towards the back of the greenhouse where light was scarce even in the day. You had a sneaking suspicion that it had been given too much light due to signs of dehydration, which led to rot, which led to the mites. You set it gently back in the spot you had cleared out for it only yesterday and dusting your hands off on one of the hundreds of rags you kept lying around turned to see what other plants you could dote on. You could have almost scrammed at the fright of turning and riding a dark figure looming in the doorway that you had just come through to the back room.

it stepped forward and a low, deep, beautiful voice floated through the room, “No need to worry, Sweetheart. It’s just me.” Master Strange stepped out of the shadows and into the bright light of a singular moonbeam shining through the roof. He smiled at you widely looking around the room and noted, “It looks beautiful in here. I knew turning this thing over to you was a good idea.”

You wrung the rag in your hands and ducked your head, a blush spreading over your cheeks. You were processing a lot in those two sentences. First, his use of the nickname Sweetheart which he had called you on a few occasions and filled your stomach with butterflies each time. Two, his compliments which always made you feel dizzy. To have someone as talented as he acknowledged you in any way seemed unreal. And three, he looked— well, still handsome as always, the thought only making you blush harder— but something was off. He didn’t look well. His skin was presently flushed redder than your own, his breathing was erratic judging from the fact you could see him breathing in the first place, and his voice carried a certain undercurrent that you couldn’t identify.

You found your voice and managed out, “Thank you, Master Strange, that’s very kind.” Hesitating a moment you then asked, “Are you feeling well?”

“I’m… troubled at the moment.” He admits, stepping farther into the room, “I was on a mission earlier this afternoon and something rather absurd occurred.”

“You aren’t hurt are you?” You ask, your tone likely carrying far too much care for being a mere acquaintance

Or perhaps at this point, he might consider you a friend. You had never asked, always feeling it was a rather silly thing to question after. Men his age didn’t worry about friends and you feared your admission of the wonderment would make you seem so childish. He was a good deal older than you, but even still he had always shown you a kindness you couldn’t otherwise remember. Most people were nice, sure, but they were so rarely willing to spend their time with you. Master Strange always made a point to ask you about classes, offer his opinions on books you might find useful in your studies, and pop into the greenhouse from time to time to see how things were going— which was why his presence despite the hour didn’t concern you all that much.

“It’s complicated.” He says, “Not exactly physically hurt— not really— but… well, like I said, it’s complicated.”

You set down your rag on the table behind you and inquire, “Do you know what’s wrong? Do you have any symptoms?”

Master Strange chuckles and glances at you through the long, dark lashes you often found yourself envious of, “Plenty of symptoms, no solutions.”

“Well, what are the symptoms? Maybe I can help.” You offer eagerly, approaching him quickly, “There’s a solution for almost every ailment in botany, you’d be amazed.”

He takes another step toward you, eliminating almost all the distance between the two of you. You crane your neck upwards to look up at his beautiful blue eyes and find his pupils are oddly large. You take in a sharp breath and in it find a smell that doesn’t belong to any of your flora… it was muskier, darker, and alluring, though it wasn’t the smell of his cologne which you had become rather acquainted with. This was something different that you didn’t know what to make of.

“Would you like me to show you the symptoms?” He murmurs quietly

You nod dumbly, suddenly at a loss for words in such close proximity. You’re more than a bit surprised when you feel one of your hands taken up in his own. He brings it up and presses it against his forehead and you nearly jump at the warmth radiating from his skin. He was burning up! It was unlike any fever symptom you’d ever seen. You noticed that as the back of you hand brushed against his forehead he gave an audible sigh of relief. He then took your hand down and placed your fingers against the pulse point in his neck. His heart rate was rapid as if he’d just finished running miles— which you were certain from a first-hand account didn’t fatigue him half as much as whatever this ailment was.

Finally, he brought your hand lower. You thought he meant to return it to its spot at your side, but instead lead you somewhere different. Your eyes went wide as you realized what he had placed your hand against. Your face caught fire and out of pure bashfulness, you turned away from him, though not daring to move your hand. You knew, of course, what it meant. You knew what his body was asking him for, but you didn’t understand much beyond that. Your own body rarely begged for the same thing, dampened by the pressures and beliefs forced onto you in your childhood. You no longer held the same beliefs, but your innocence still lingered, making you unsure of how to address the situation or if you were expected to.

“Feel that?” He asks quietly, breaking the silence and tension in the room. You nod rather than speak, afraid your voice would waver if you did. He didn’t move your hand, instead situating your hand so that it was wrapped around the outline of his… symptom… and questions, “Do you know what it is?”

You shake your head and take in a shaky breath before saying, “I don’t know what caused it if not what normally would.” You continue, “I don’t know— I’ve never heard of anything like it.”

He gives a sort of chuckle and corrects, “No, Sweetheart. I didn’t mean do you know what caused it. I meant do you know what it is?”

“Well… of course I do!” You exclaim, eyes wide, “I believe everyone above the age of fifteen likely knows what that is!”

“I wasn’t sure.” He says, keeping your hand in place but moving even closer, his other hand coming up to cradle your cheek, “You just seem so shy and innocent. It’s hard to imagine you know anything about it at all.”

“I- well I- I know the basics.” You stutter out, cheeks growing warmer under his touch

“Have you ever tried it?” Your Master pries, “Have you ever done anything but what you’re doing now?”

You swallow hard and admit, “What I’m doing now… what I’m doing now is the most I’ve ever done.”

“Mm…” He hums out and tilts his face toward your own, “What do you think?”

“It’s um…” Your eyes flutter shut momentarily as his forehead touches your own, “different than I thought.”

“How so?”

“I didn’t think it would be this… hard.” You elaborate shyly, “And it’s bigger than I thought they were. I guess I’ve never really had a frame of reference.” 

Your chest tightens when Master Strange brings your hand to his waistband and asks, “Would you like to see it?”

“I- I don’t know if that’s appropriate. You’re m-my teacher, Master Strange.” You try to explain, “You could get in trouble.”

“There’s no one else around.” He murmurs, “I’d only be in trouble if you told someone.” Your knees go weak as his thumb brushes over your lower lip, those dark eyes tracking the movement slowly, “You wouldn’t tell anyone, would you?” You shake your head no quickly and can only explain your compliance due to the adrenaline and curiosity running through your system. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want, Sweetheart. But don’t you want to know what it’s like?” Your breath catches as he places a gentle kiss against your cheek, his breath fanning across your neck as he continues, “I’d love to show you.”

You nod and to your surprise, his lips come to your own. You had kissed a boy once or twice, but only quickly. It had never been filled with the same want that this kiss was. His lips were warm and a little chapped, but not at all unpleasant. Your heart skipped what must have been several beats as he led the action slowly. You felt something stir— to your surprise the same feeling that had been stirring in your lonely, sleepless nights— and a small whimper escaped you. He bit softly into your bottom lip making you give a little gasp and with the open invitation before him, his tongue entered your mouth. You were in no place to focus on skill or technique as he reached down and now took both of your hands, guiding them to the drawstrings of his sweatpants. Feeling you were in little position to do much else but obey, you pulled carefully at the knot and untied it. He then brought your hands back to his waistband and you took your cue to pull his pants down.

Master Strange broke your kiss to give a sigh of relief, his head hanging back, the pulse in his neck visible in the silver light of the moon. His hair was damp, falling over his forehead, strong brow tensed as if the singular action of freeing him from his sweats made a world of difference. You were struck once more by just how handsome he was, a classical sort of masculine beauty that you didn’t believe anyone could deny if they tried. 

Your curiosity once again carried you further and you glanced down to find the object of his ailment in plain sight, no boxers between you and the machine as you had anticipated. You were quickly caught up in your ever-persisting modesty and drew back from him, almost afraid by what you saw. You had seen it in anatomical studies but never the real thing, having avoided pornography for the sake of your own posterity. You saw nothing wrong with those who watched it, but the idea always made you feel faint. But now having seen the real thing you wished you had some preparation in advance.

Master Strange, however, did not seem to share the same issue of modesty and all at once tore his sweatshirt over his head and threw it to the stone floor. He took you in his arms once again and kissed you with such fervor nearly all your qualms were forgotten— save for the remainder of the main offender poking insistently at your hip. But the kisses he lavished upon you were like magic, making you forget so quickly what you were afraid of. How could something wrong possibly feel so good? How was it possible that any of this was wrong when it felt so right? When he himself was clearly enjoying it just as much as you.

He pulled away far too soon and asks, “Are you scared?”

You nod and admit, “I’ve heard that it’s scary. That parts of it are painful.”

“Of course at the start, but it does feel good after a while.” He encourages, “And I’d never do anything to hurt you, Sweetheart. I just want to make you feel good. You’re so pretty, I’ve thought about you like this for so long.” You try to turn your face from him to hide a blush but he grabs your cheeks and forces you to look at him, “I want to make you feel good. You want to make me feel good, don’t you? So I can stop hurting?”

You feel your eyes go wide as you exclaim, “Of course! I don’t want you to hurt at all!”

He grins down at you and pecks your lips once more, murmuring, “That’s such a good girl.” The compliment makes your tummy turn and you can’t help but feel some magnificent feeling wash over you at the compliment. He takes your hand and leads you over to the chaise lounge you’d asked to have placed in the backroom so you had somewhere to rest in between caring for the plants and attending classes. “Sit down.” He commands. You lower yourself to the purple cushions, keeping your eyes upturned to the ceiling to avoid staring at his nakedness but he tuts, “Go ahead and look, Sweetheart. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Besides, it feels good when you look.”

You swallow hard and with permission look down at his member. It was indeed longer than you had anticipated and much thicker, leading you again to fear for what pain you would have to endure if Master Strange meant to take this where you thought he did. It stood tall, a pretty white flesh color topped with a desire-colored tip, leaking fluid that you knew meant intense arousal. There was a thatch of brown curls at his base that tapered off into a happy trail, leading to a very well-sculpted abdomen and chest sheening with sweat. 

As intimidating as the image was, it caused an undeniable stirring in your own stomach… or more accurately, somewhere lower.

“Touch me.” Stephen breathes out, enflamed further by your careful observation of his figure

“H-how?” You stutter out

“However you’d like.” He offers, something in his twisted system reveling in your purity and timidity

You nod and bring one of your little hands up, at first to his thigh, your eyes scanning him as if looking for the best place to start. His abs clench as you bring your other hand up and trace through the center of the muscles, down and down until reaching the hair on his pubic bone. You cautiously reach out and simply trail one finger up his length, from the base all the way to tip. At the tip, he smiles when you wipe over his precum and rub it between your fingers. You reach back out and wrap your hand around the middle of his cock, slowly sliding upwards, making it jump at the touch.

Stephen chuckles when you look up at him startled and reaches down, cupping your jaw and running his thumb over your soft cheek as he explains, “It feels good, Sweetheart. That happens when it feels good sometimes.”

Seemingly delighted by this information you take your hand back down his length and back up again, smile slowly growing wider with every twitch and jump of his cock. Stephen let his head hand back, a deep sigh leaving his lips. It felt better than the times he had attempted to solve his problem tonight, and not just better in the normal way it feels better to have someone else please you. He could feel it in his system, his body unwinding as if it knew he had finally sought out a genuine solution to his problem.

Stephen looks back down at you and asks, “Would you put it in your mouth for me?” He sees you hesitate and reassures, “It’d feel so good. It’s already feeling a bit better, I just need more.”

“I just don’t know how…” You explain, trailing off

Stephen brings his hand to the back of your head and encourages, “All you have to do it open those pretty lips and stick out your tongue. I’ll tell you what I need and do the rest of the work, Sweetheart.” You nod and stick your tongue out a little, lips parting slightly and Stephen chuckles, “Baby, your hand barely fits around my cock, you think it’ll fit in your mouth like that?” You blush and open your mouth wider so Stephen praises, “That’s a good girl. Keep your mouth open and breathe through your nose.”Stephen only places his tip on your tongue at first and demands, “Suck on my head. Nice and slow for me.”

You close your lips around him and suck at his head gently, your hands coming to his hips, solely looking for something to hold. Your eyes fluttered closed, brow tensing in concentration and Stephen couldn’t help but smile. He was delighted to find you were as innocent as you seemed, not to mention totally willing to respond to every whim of his. Deep down somewhere that the yellow dust had buried, he knew that this was wrong. He knew that though you weren’t saying no, you weren’t giving an emphatic yes. But something in his twisted system rejoiced in that sick fact. He liked how willing you were, even if you weren’t entirely sure.

Stephen let out a sigh and instructs, “Use more of your tongue…” You immediately swirled your tongue around his head and he hums, “Good girl… so good at following directions.” He pulls you off his tip with a little pop and smiles at the lost look on your face, “Now open up wide for me again.”

You open your mouth wide, tongue hanging out and Stephen immediately took to thrusting inside. It was so warm, so inviting. He kept his hand on the back of your head, keeping it still for him to work with, and let his eyes close briefly. He ventured a little farther and felt as you tried to swallow around him, the contraction causing a moan to slip past his lips. 

He opened his eyes and reminded you, “Breathe through your nose. Don’t worry about the spit. I don’t mind. We want to get that cock nice and wet. Feels so good, you know?” You gag a bit and he smiles as drool runs out one corner of your mouth, “That’s it, that’s a good girl. You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” His voice was soft but insistent as if speaking to a wounded animal, “Th-that’s it. You take it just like that. I know it’s big but it feels so… good…” 

Stephen punctuated the last two words with sharper thrusts that caused you to gag around him once more. Your nails dug into his thighs, but you didn’t try to pull away from him. You were so lost all you could do was exactly what he asked you, desperate to prove yourself useful, wanting to prove you cared. His thrusts got wilder and wilder until you were choking on him with every thrust, tears starting to flow down your face. Stephen finally drew back when one thrust deeper than the rest made you heave, keeping his hand fisted in your hair and taking himself from the warmth of your mouth. You took in a gasping breath and gave a little sniffle, staring up at him with wide eyes, your face streaming with tears, chin glistening with saliva. You looked wrecked and all he’d done was fuck your mouth.

Stephen leaned down and pressed his lips to yours in an attempt to make up for the abuse and cooed, “You’re doing so good, Sweetheart. That feels so good.” He wipes the tears from under your eyes and asks, “You see how it’s done now? Will you keep going for me? I’ll let you control it this time. I’m so close.”

You swallow hard and manage out, “Yes.”

Stephen moves to sit himself at the head of the lounge chair, still propped up, legs spread wide, unashamed. It was in that moment he realized just how much shame he was lacking about the whole ordeal. He wasn’t typically concerned during sex, but there was always some nagging about whether or not his partner was pleased by him. That didn’t exist this time. You turned to face him and Stephen nodded toward his erection, still standing proud and aching far less than it had been, though still not a comfortable amount.

Assessing the situation you came to the realization on your own that you would have to put yourself in a rather suggestive position to take him it seemed, and to Stephen’s delight, you did so without complaint. He watched as you sat up on your knees before lowering yourself, your ass raised high in the air, mouth right where he needed it. You started slowly under your own control, suckling on his head once again, but it felt so good Stephen couldn’t find it in himself to complain.  He let out a moan as you suck down around him farther, your tongue stroking at the vein that ran along the underside of his cock just right.

“Oh my God… Baby.” He groans, “That feels so nice.” He looks down to find you already staring up at him and his cock twitches, “You felt that? You’re so pretty my cock jumps when I look at you, Sweetheart. You make it feel so good.” You give a little whimper, brow tensing and eyes shining at the compliment, “You’re gonna make me cum soon. That’s why it had a heartbeat, can you feel it?” You nod, your head bobbing up and down his length as you do so. “I guess you’ve never seen someone cum before, have you?”

You draw off his length to say, “No sir.” And despite your little experience, your hand seems to understand it has a void to fill given it finding residence on his length, stroking slowly. “I… what does it do? I know that it comes from…” You trail off, cheeks flushing

Stephen raises a brow and teases, “Where does it come from, Baby? Huh?”

“Your balls.” You murmur quietly, “And through your tip. But… but how much of it? And where is it supposed to go when we’re doing this?”

“There’s a lot.” Stephen says, “Enough to fill up your mouth. And that’s where I want it to go. I want you to drink it up for me, okay? Don’t waste a drop. If you’re a good girl I’ll show you something else.”

You flutter your lashes at him and ask, “What does it taste like?”

“It’s salty.” He says, reaching down and stroking your cheek. “Some people don’t like it, but good girls do.”

“And I’m a good girl, so I’ll like it.” You reason

Stephen practically beamed. You were falling further and further into the role you needed to take for him to properly fulfill the need inside him. He nods in response and without further question, you go back to sucking him off. Both your little hands were planted on his thighs,  nails leaving presents in his skin whenever you pushed yourself just a little too far. Stephen watches you work over him, his chest heaving, pleasure rising higher and higher. He could feel it start at the base of his spine, the oncoming explosion that was sure to leave him breathless. His hands grappled for something to hold to, one finding the back of the chair, and the other finding your hair once more.

Stephen, despite his promising you were in control, could help the thrust of his hips into your mouth, and to his delight it didn’t seem to startle you. You continued to gag on his length, still not quite sure how to take so much, especially not in this position, but your willingness was endearing. The last thing he felt before stars burst behind his eyelids was a subtle brush to his balls. He let out an inhuman groan as he came apart, no time to warn you. 

He felt you sputter as the liquid shooting into the back of your throat came as a surprise, but he held you right where he had you. He refused to stop thrusting upwards, stop seeking the comfort your mouth provided, because he could tell he still had far more to give. When he finally resigned himself to pulling out of your mouth and opening his eyes, he was met with the image of your confused face, brows knit together, and some of his seed leaking down your chin.

“Don’t waste any.” He repeats lowly

This seems to snap you back to the present, at which you reach up and collect the semen on your finger before popping it in your mouth. You suck your finger clean and Stephen watches as you deliberate before a shy smile spreads on your lips.

“I do kind of like it…”

Master Strange laughs and crooks his finger at you and you crawl over, sitting on your knees between his spread legs. You look back down at his erection and notice it hasn’t decreased in size one bit, much to your confusion. 

“Some men can go more than once.” He supplies, “But I also think that this has something to do with whatever dust I walked into. It’s not normally still this hard after the first round.”

You nod and ask, “Do you feel any better?”

“A little.” He says, “But now I know what I need for sure to make it all better.” 

You shift a little and chew on your bottom lip. You knew, of course, what he was referring to, but you were so scared. You had heard terrible things about the stretch and the hurt and the bleeding… and you weren’t on birth control! What if you got pregnant?

“I’m not on anything…” You murmur vaguely, though he seems to understand

Instead of what you were certain would be an outraged response, you instead saw his member twitch at the declaration. No sooner had you made the statement than you were in his lap, straddled across the hard appendage that now rested rather comfortably between your thighs. The spot in which it hit lit aflame, what you could only describe as a feeling of neediness rising to the surface. And that, that was precisely what you had been feeling all those sleepless nights under the covers, though never knowing what to do about it. Your shifting doesn’t go unnoticed by your Master, who grabs your hips and stills you making you pout down at him.

“What’s the issue, Baby?” You’re quiet for a long while, looking for the words to express your discomfort before he guesses, “Are you feeling weird down below?” You nod and Stephen reassures, “That’s normal, Sweetheart. You know what it is, don’t you?”

“No.” You deny

“No?” He asks, seeming surprised by the answer, “What you’re feeling it was I’m feeling.” He explains, “I bet when you feel like this sometimes you get all wet down there, huh?” You nod shyly and he smiles, “Can I feel?” Your hole clenches at the thought, but you nod, ready and willing to explore the feeling. “Well I need to get you naked then, Baby.” 

With a snap of his fingers your bare, completely exposed to the cool air, your nipples pebbling the first thing to make you aware of the change. You cover yourself the best you can, though enough of your figure available to his eyes to not dissuade his staring. But it’s more than staring. He was devouring your figure, every curve, every dimple, every detail. He reaches up and takes your wrists gently, slowly pulling them away from your chest, letting him observe you in entirety. Your face and chest flush and you have to look away, completely embarrassed by the nudity.

“You’re perfect, Sweetheart.” He murmurs, a sweet sentiment followed by the then shocking statement, “I’m pleased to hear you aren’t on birth control. You’ll look even prettier carrying my baby.”

With that, Stephen sat up and promptly descended upon you. All the air was taken from your lungs as you were laid out flat on your back, his broad frame over you, his knees between your thighs keeping them well open. His erection sat against your tummy, its’ still leaking tip spreading the pearlescent fluid across your skin. He leaned down and peppered kisses across your bare skin, so many you couldn’t keep track of, you could only lay there in a daze accepting the tokens. You gave a gasp when his lips traveled farther and one wrapped around your nipple, the sensation of his warm tongue soothing the ache of the stiff bud. Your hand went to his hair as if on instinct and you knew all was lost at that point.

His hand traveled lower until his fingers gently separated your lower lips, the first contact making you jump and bit. Master Strange kept one hand on your shoulder, his thumb tracing a small circle round ad around before you felt the first breach. It seemed impossibly tight, even just a finger alone! What surprised you, however, was that it didn’t hurt you as much as it had simply frightened you. Pushing past your fear you recognized that this was a man looking to feel good and make feel good, and though you were still slightly on edge, you were more relieved at having completed the first step.

He moved his finger in and out of you slowly a few times before quickly adding the second. You winced a bit, the stretch not particularly pleasant, and then let out a shocked gasp as a third finger was immediately added. Stephen whispered sweet words to you the whole way through, his lips working over your neck and in your ear to distract from the discomfort.

“Fuck I need to be inside you, Baby.” Stephen groans against his skin, “Say yes, please. Let me have you.”

“Yes.” You breathe out as quickly as possible, spreading your legs wider in invitation

It was all a whirlwind then. His lining up with your entrance, his teasing your pleasure spot, your own desperate writhing. You needed him. And then in one swift moment, he was inside you. You cried out, wrapping your arms around his shoulders tight and biting into his bicep. The action caused a hiss of pain and pleasure to escape his lips and then the brutal assault began. He was everywhere. His hands roamed wherever they could, his lips tasting any flesh available, animalistic groans and grunts in your ears, far more vocal than you’d ever imagined him being. The drug was far more potent than you’d anticipated.

“More.” You beg, grabbing his ass and pulling him closer, the sting of the stretch feeling oh so right

You wrap your legs around his waist, hands moving to his hair where you pull on the dark locks harshly. Stephen let out a groan and brought his lips to yours, leading you into a filthy, wet, uncoordinated kiss. His pelvic bone bumping against your clit and the friction of the coarse hair stimulated you just right. Every grind into your heat sent fire through your limbs, your release so close after so long a build up.

“It’s so good.” He grunts, “Pussy is so fucking good, Sweetheart. So wet and tight. All for me, isn’t that right?”

“Y-yes, Master Strange.” You sob out, “All yours.”

“Damn straight.” He grits out, grabbing beneath your knees and forcing your legs back, making room for him to dive even deeper into your heat. “God this shit feels so good.” He pants out, “I can’t think straight. All I feel is you. I can fucking smell you, Baby. I can feel every ridge on every one of your walls. Never felt someone like this.”

“Oh my God…” You moan out, “You’re so deep, Steph. You’re so deep.”

“Good.” He snarls, “Wanna make sure my cum is nice and close to that final destination. I wasn’t joking about knocking you up. I can already see it.” He all but growls, slamming into you harder, “Everyone will know you’re mine. First and last to ever have you, yeah?” He pants, taking your face in one hand and demanding, “Tell me you want it too, Baby. Tell me what you want.”

Your eyes rolled back in your head as Stephen drove into that perfect spot over and over again and managed to stutter out, “P-please get me pregnant.”

“Your belly will look so pretty all nice and round. These pretty tits all swollen and sore… don’t worry, I’ll make ‘em feel better, Sweetheart. Massage ‘em every chance I get. You’ll be such a good mom, take care of our kids so well.” His breathing was sporadic as he continued, “Gonna fuck a baby into you and tell everyone it’s mine. Let everyone know what a good girl you are letting me use you.” 

“Yes, Stephen.” You plead, just as swept away in the fantasy as he was at this point, “Please cum, cum inside me. Wanna carry your baby, wanna be a good girl for you.”

“Ask one more time. What do you want from me, Sweetheart?”

“I want you to get me pregnant. Please.” You sob, something finally snapping, your orgasm crashing over you all too soon

Stephen followed behind just as quickly, but his finish took much longer to come to a true end. Your name was a plea on his lips, murmured over and over again as he filled you with an even larger load than what you’d received in oral. You weren’t sure how long after the fact you laid there with him collapsed on top of you, your arms wrapped around your lover.

All you knew was you had some very interesting findings to catalog.

Stephen woke up to the harsh sunlight and the warmth of it across naked skin. He gave a groan as he opened his eyes and was met with the very pleasant image of your frame wrapped in a silk robe. You sat at the little desk in the back of the greenhouse so often used to fill journals with different findings in relation to your plants. Some days he would come in just to sit and watch you work.

“Good morning, Steph.” You chirp without turning your attention away from your writing, “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Awful.” He grunts out, “That shit is worse than a hangover, I swear.”

You give a little laugh and ask, “Heart rate back to normal?”

“Yep.”

“Feeling unusually warm?”

“Yes, but that may have something to do with the sunlight coming through.” He says

You spin around in your chair and Stephen can’t help but smile at the way your eyes observe him. You were rapt with him. He was built like a goddamn statue, carved from stone and now defined the perfect male figure for you. You stood and grabbed the plate of food from the desk beside you, taking your water bottle and walking it over to him as well. Stephen spread his legs to make room for you to plop down in front of him, reclining backward and feeling his front against your back.

“Avocado toast.” You say offering him the plate, “And water. Drink up.”

Stephen gives a pleased hum and grabs a piece of the toast taking a moment to ask, “Anything interesting this time?” before shoving the food in his mouth.

“Yes, actually.” You agree, “As opposed to when I acted as a willing participant, your level of coercion was about the same, which was unexpected. You were still fascinated with oral, but I think something about my playing innocent made you softer… at least marginally. You actually ejaculated in my mouth once before penetration and in the last three studies, you refused to ejaculate anywhere that wasn’t strictly inside me. Which is odd because your insistency on getting me pregnant—“

Stephen chokes on his toast, “I said what?”

“Yeah. You really wanted to knock me up. Which I guess makes sense as I’m fairly certain the plant was created to drive reproductive motivations. Something about, and I quote, ‘fucking a baby into me and telling everyone it’s yours.’”

“Jesus.” He mutters, “I mean— you know I love you, Baby, but I’m not quite there yet.”

You laugh and agree, “I know, I know. But I wonder if there’s some part of you that is that the pollen brings to the surface?”

“I guess there has to be. Reproduction is the basest human instinct.” He takes another bite of his toast and asks, “Any other tests in mind?”

“Plenty, but I need you to take at least a week to rest. We have to keep our variables consistent.”

“Can’t believe a plant that makes people want to fuck will be your claim to fame.” Stephen snorts, poking at your side

You swat his hand away, “Can’t believe being the test subject will be yours.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to let another man fuck my girlfriend stupid under the influence of what’s essentially a drug.”

“Oh, how chivalrous.” You roll your eyes, tilting your head back to look up at him

“I didn’t hurt you did I?” He asks

“No, you were much sweeter than normal.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“No! I mean— well, in terms of the pollen, sweeter than normal. But it’s still eerie how your personality shifts based on the idea of who you think I am.”

“It’s almost like a sociopathic attribute.” Stephen muses, “I’d love to see a CAT of brain activity on versus off the pollen.”

“You think Christine would be willing to let us use the ER’s?” You joke

Stephen chuckles, “Doubt it.”

“Damn.” You pout, “That would have been an interesting section for the paper.”

Stephen laughs heartily and pulls you gently back against them once more, “A botany paper that will never see the light of day outside this fortress. You really are something, you know that?”

“Mhm.” You hum, lifting your head and placing a soft kiss on his jaw, “You remind me every day, Doctor.”

tag list: @yuu-chan-is-still-a-student12 @fireworksinthesky @cemak @pinkthick @cumbrbatchbenedict @newavenger @evelyn-kingsley @aphroditesdilemma @ironstrange1991 @strangeobsessed @iamsherlocked1479 @rmoonstoner @the-royal-petals @avahiddlestonstan @rookiemartin @azu21 @stephen-is-a-cinnamon-roll @meeom @vi0letdaze

Okay HI hello I hope you're doing well!! I haven't been on tumblr for a few days, been so distracted with stuff but I've had an idea in my head for so long now I gotta share it.

Stephen Strange x Reader (ofc lmao) where Reader and him are in a secret relationship cause they know it would cause problems within the Avengers and their dangerous jobs.

One day, everyone is in the tower discussing stuff. And idk how it would lead up to it. But essentially goes like

Stephen: I'll have to ask the wife.

Tony: you have a wife. You of all people? What- did you buy some bimbo off ebay?

Essentially just absolutely dissing him not at all believing that he has a wife etc etc. And Stephen is all annoyed and says something in defense. And eventually reader goes

"The wife says no." While glaring at Tony

Pairing: Dr. Stephen Strange x Reader Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. A/N: How do you come up with these brilliant ideas?!

You knew the meeting was important. It was the only time when all the Avengers were on planet, in dimension and with no missions.

A rare occurrence.

Which was why Tony Stark had decided to call in all the Avengers to discuss their most recent missions and take notes. In case there was some other threat looming over the horizon that could potentially destroy the planet.

So far, no one had reported anything out of the ordinary. And you were glad. Not only because the world was at peace for the time being, but also because it meant your husband didn't have to run off on a mission that required his expertise.

Your husband was none other then Dr. Stephen Strange.

And when it came to the nature of your relationship, no one knew.

Or perhaps some of them knew. But if they did, no one had revealed it to anyone else. Which was just how the both of you preferred it to be.

Mostly because it provided you two with the privacy that you needed, and given your line of work, the more secretive a relationship the better. If Barton could hide his entire family from the rest of the world as well as the Avengers for a good many years, then you and Stephen could hide the nature of your relationship as well.

Not that you were ashamed of it or anything. Nothing of the sort. The decision was made on behalf of the fact that the nature of your jobs was life-threatening. He had his fair share of enemies, and you had yours. And while both of you were capable of holding your own against the opposing forces, there was no harm in taking extra precaution.

Hence the secrecy of your relationship.

Though for the last few days or so, you had been discussing about getting it out in the open. At least to the rest of the Avengers.

At present you were listening to Captain America as he assigned the next set of missions to everyone. There were only a few, and you had been paired with AntMan who had waved at you. You smiled and waved back. You liked working with Scott, he was always fun to be around.

However, you did not miss the way Stephen's eyes found yours. You only gave him a small smile and a wink, knowing how much he preferred that the both of you take on missions together.

But hey, he couldn't always get what he wanted.

Just then Tony asked Stephen a question, to which your husband was a little late with his response. Prompting Tony to gaze quizzically at him.

"Feeling alright there Dumbledore? Don't want you flaking out on me during the mission." Apparently Stephen had been paired with Tony Stark aka Iron Man himself. The realization prompted you to hide your smile behind your hand.

"Stop calling me that." Stephen stated in a deadpan voice, which only served to make Tony goad him further.

"Oh lighten up. Or should I say Lumos?" This time a giggle did escape you, but you weren't the only one. Anyone who got the reference let out a small laugh at your husband's expense.

"You need to learn to take a joke Strange, but think about it? You're a single fella going on a mission where the majority of the population on the planet is female, should double your chances of getting laid wouldn't it?" Since he was already married to Pepper, Tony of course made no mention of himself being in the same category as Stephen.

You frowned, your previous mirth forgotten as you glared at Tony. You knew it wasn't his fault for making such a remark, but you still couldn't help the small sliver of jealousy as well as anger that burned in you at the thought of Stephen being around all those women. Not that you didn’t trust him, you just didn’t trust females you didn’t know.

Stephen, ever the observant husband, was quick to pick up on your mood, even from sitting across the table on opposite ends. Perhaps your reaction was what compelled him to say what he did next.

"I don't know Stark, I'll have to ask the wife."

Instantly the whole atmosphere of the room changed. Everyone, even those who had their suspicions, turned to stare at the Sorcerer Supreme with a gobsmacked expression on their faces. You were one of them. You certainly hadn't been expecting him to come out and say it like that.

Tony was the first one to recover. "You have a wife? You?!" He let out a laugh of disbelief at which Stephen raised an eyebrow at him. "What did you buy her off E-Bay or something?" He continued to joke. Somehow he didn't think it possible for someone so uptight as Strange to have a girlfriend, let alone a wife.

"I mean come on Strange, if you want to lie, at least make it a convincing one." He continued with a roll of his eyes.

Stephen glared at Tony. “And why would I lie about having a wife?” The man shrugged. “You tell me. You’re the one who’s lying.”

“How about I just call her and ask?”

So saying Stephen drew our his phone from a pocket dimension and pressed dial on the number that was saved under your name.

Everyone could hear the phone ringing at the other end. What no one had been expecting was for your phone to start ringing within those first few seconds.

Your gaze was fixed on Tony’s as you picked up your phone from the table and accepted the call. Stephen instantly hit the speaker button, while you raised your phone to your ear and calmly spoke into it.

“The wife says no.” Your voice rang loud and clear, live as well as from the speaker of Stephen’s phone.

The reactions were instantaneous. While some only stared in disbelief, others were more vocal about it. Tony was the former, staring at the both of you, his brain unable to process what had just occurred. You ended the call before standing up and pretended to dust off the front of your skirt. “Husband? Would you mind taking us home now? I believe the meeting is over.”

Stephen stood as well, the triumphant look in his eyes was visible to everyone as he began to walk towards you, pulling out his sling ring as he went and sliding it on.

“Of course, my dear.”

He opened a portal to your shared rooms right behind you. Once he reached you his arm came to wrap around your waist, pulling you close to his side as he smiled at you.

“Oh and Stark? Do refrain from making remarks about my wife in the future.”

“I didn’t know you had one!” Tony defended himself. Which was true.

You smirked at him. “Well, now you do.”

With that you stepped through the portal. Though you couldn’t help but glance back one last time, if only to catch a glimpse of their still stunned faces.

Good thing your husband had a flair for the dramatics just as much as you did.

Caught

Summary: You are 20 years younger than Stephen, and you can't help thinking about him, and one day, Stephen catches you during an intimate moment.

Word count: 2.7k

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Female Reader

Trope: Explicit Smut, Mentions Of Sex Toys, Age Gap, Daddy Kink, Fingering (18+ Warning, DNI)

A/N: Guess who lol. The reason I'm back on another account? Well, it's a long story... To cut it short, I was just not having a very good day yesterday. But I'm back... For now.

Sorry if this fic isn't the best. It hasn't been proofread, and I did write it pretty quickly :/

You had only known Stephen for a couple of months, but as soon as you set eyes on him, you knew you were attracted to him. There was just something about him that drew you to him. He was older, twenty years older to be exact, but he was handsome, and you always found older guys more attractive in a way. You couldn’t stop thinking about him, in ways that would be deemed inappropriate.  

You were good friends though, so on most days you would find yourself looking after the Sanctum while he was away on certain missions because he certainly trusted you, and on most nights when you were alone in the Sanctum, you would find yourself using your vibrator, rubbing it against your clit as you moaned out his name. You knew you shouldn’t, but you couldn’t help but imagine how his cock would feel thrusting in and out of you as he groaned into your ear, telling you how good you felt wrapped around him. 

You tried to relieve the ache you had for Stephen to take you, and using the toy helped, but it never fully satisfied you. You were certain you and Stephen would never make love. You were younger than him, so you were probably not on his radar. 

It was a new day and Stephen had told you the night before that he had plans today to help Wong with something at Kamar Taj, so he would be gone most of the day. As usual, you agreed to look after the Sanctum while he was away. After you bid him farewell, you waited a little while to make sure he didn’t come back for anything. When you were certain the coast was clear, you made your way upstairs, and to your designated bedroom in the Sanctum. Once you were inside, you pushed your door, leaving it open just a crack. 

You made your way over to your bedside cabinet and pulled open the drawer, blushing a little when you caught sight of your vibrator. You grabbed the toy hoping to relieve the ache you had for Stephen to take you. You got onto your bed, your back resting against the mattress. You then got settled against your pillows before you moved to pull down your trousers, your panties following shortly after. 

You turned on the toy, the familiar buzzing sound filling the room. You moved the toy to your pussy, gently pressing it against your clit. You let out a gasp as the toy moved against your clit, the vibrations sending a shiver up and down your spine. You then added more pressure against your clit, your toes curling as you felt the pleasure increase. You squeezed your eyes shut, your back arching slightly off your bed as the pleasure continued to build up. 

As you continued your assault against your clit, you couldn’t help but think of Stephen, and how he’d feel deep inside of you, his thick cock stretching you out as you cried out his name, begging him to fuck you faster. Your filthy thoughts forced a moan from you, the feeling of your orgasm growing as you continued on with your thoughts. You imagined Stephen whispering into your ear, calling you a good girl as you came undone around his cock. The thought alone made you cry out Stephen’s name as you neared your orgasm. 

But you were suddenly disrupted from your thoughts when you heard the sound of your bedroom door opening slightly. You panicked and dropped your toy before you spotted someone backing away from outside your door. 

“Stephen?” you called out, not sure if it was him or not. Truthfully, it could have been anyone, but he was the first person you suspected it to be seeing as he was the only other person staying at the Sanctum. 

There was no answer, and you knew for certain that you saw someone, so you got out of bed half-naked and opened your door. You quickly spotted Stephen trying to walk away unnoticed, but you wanted to stop him. “Stephen, wait.” 

He stopped in his tracks, and you slowly walked over to him. You grabbed his shoulder and turned him so he was facing you, and as soon as you looked at him, you saw his red cheeks and a rather large bulge in his pants. Had he been watching you? 

“Were you watching me?” you asked him. 

Stephen didn’t say anything, instead, he just gave you a little nod. 

“How long were you standing there for?” you wondered, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to know the answer. 

“Long enough to know you were thinking about me,” he told you, his eyes stuck on you. 

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “I just didn’t expect you back this soon, you know.”

“Well it turns out Wong didn’t need me for as long as I thought he would, so I came back to tell you, and that’s when I saw you…” 

You looked down at the floor worried Stephen was disgusted at you, and the long silence that followed your earlier conversation made you believe he was until Stephen spoke up. 

“Do you think about me all the time when you’re using that?” 

You looked back up at him and nodded. “Yes. All the time.” 

Stephen then moved towards you slowly, stopping when his chest was almost touching yours. He leaned down, his warm breath on your neck before he whispered in your ear. “I think about you too, a lot. I imagine you screaming my name as I fuck you. I think about it all the time when I’m touching myself.” 

His words sent a shiver straight down to your pussy, your need for him increasing. That’s when you moved, quickly getting up on your tiptoes before your lips collided with his. He kissed you back with hunger, his big arms wrapping around you, bringing you closer to him. 

You continued to kiss just outside your bedroom door,  moaning into his mouth when you felt his hands on your ass, squeezing your bare cheeks tightly. Moving your own hands, you gently pushed one into his pants, your fingers wrapping around his hard cock, moaning at how big he felt, just like in your fantasies. 

Stephen groaned against your lips when you moved your hand up and down his length, your thumb swiping over his swollen, leaking tip. 

“Need this inside me, please,” you whispered against Stephen’s lips as you continued to stroke him. 

That’s when Stephen moved. He gripped you tightly, lifting you up as your legs wrapped around his waist. You then wrapped your arms around his shoulders as your lips joined together for another hungry kiss. 

Stephen began to walk away from your bedroom, and you could only imagine he was taking you to his room. When you made it, Stephen kicked the door open and made his way over to his bed. He settled you down on his bed gently before he backed away and you were left to stare in awe as he started to remove his clothes. 

You bit your lip in anticipation as he began to pull down his briefs, and you whined when you got sight of his cock. It was long and thick, and perfect. You couldn’t wait for him to fill you up. 

Stephen got back on the bed, crawling over you until his face was level with yours. He leaned down and kissed you hard and fast, his tongue slipping into your mouth for a moment before he pulled away. He grabbed your shirt and pulled it over your head, tossing it somewhere in the room. He then leaned back down, this time to kiss your breasts, his tongue swirling over your swollen nipples. 

You whined, a hand raking through his hair as he continued his attention on your breasts. But then you felt a hand on your pussy, two of his scarred fingers running across your labia as Stephen moved his head to look at you, his blue eyes staring at you intensely before he sent you a small smile. Your hand reached out to grab at his bicep as he pushed his fingers into you, a choked cry escaping your lips. 

Stephen leaned down and kissed you as he began pumping his fingers in and out of you, an obscene squelching sound filling the room. His thumb was soon on your clit, rubbing it in circles as he continued to pump his fingers into you. 

You cried out when his fingers hit a sweet spot deep inside of you, Stephen’s lips swallowing all your moans as he kept pumping his fingers into your heat. 

“Please,” you whined. “I need your cock inside of me so bad.” 

Stephen stopped, his fingers leaving your pussy as he let out a low chuckle. “My fingers not good enough for you, my sweet girl?”

You shook your head. “Your fingers felt so good, but I just need your cock inside of me. Need it so bad.” 

“Okay, sweetheart. Whatever you want, whatever you need.” 

Stephen moved, spreading your legs apart before positioning himself comfortably between them. Once he was settled, he wrapped a hand around his length, pumping himself a few times before placing the tip against your pussy. 

But he didn’t move, so in a desperate attempt to have him inside, you lifted your hips hoping he would breach your entrance, but Stephen seemed to notice your little plan. He laughed and grabbed your hips tightly, pushing you back down onto the bed. He caged you in with his large frame and you looked up at him with big eyes, sending him a pout. 

“So desperate for me,” he said as he smiled down at you. 

“Can’t help it. Need you to fuck me, please,” you whined desperately at him. 

He leaned down and kissed you. “Only if you ask nicely.” 

“Please, Stephen.” 

He kissed you once more. “You can do better than that, sweetheart.” 

You whined in frustration. “Please fuck me, sir. Please fuck me with your big cock-- Oh, fuck,” you suddenly screamed out when he slid into you. 

Stephen groaned against your lips as he bottomed out inside of you. “Fuck, sweetheart. Holy fuck, you’re so tight, warm, and wet.” 

You just whined in response as you adjusted to his size, your pussy squeezing around him tightly. 

“Gimme a sec, sweetheart,” Stephen said with a groan as he felt you squeezing him. 

You took his face in your hands and kissed him. Stephen kissed you back before he started to move, rocking his hips against you slowly. You whined against his lips as he moved in and out of you, happy to finally have what you had been thinking about for so long. 

He kept moving in and out of you at a slow pace and it felt good, but you needed more. You needed it hard and fast. “Please fuck me faster, harder.” 

Stephen complied. He pulled almost all the way out of you before slamming back into you with a hard thrust that pushed you up the bed. He then grabbed your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh before he began to just pound into you. 

You cried out, your hands desperately reaching out to grab the covers below you. “Fuck yes. Just like that.” 

“This what you wanted, sweetheart? Is this what you always dreamed about?” Stephen asked as he continued to fuck you fast and rough. 

“Yes,” you whined before you felt Stephen’s lips on you. You kissed him back before you pulled away. “Please don’t stop. Your cock feels so good.” 

As soon as you said that, Stephen suddenly gripped your hips even harder, and you were certain he’d leave bruises. He began to fuck you so fast that you began to slide up the bed. You never knew someone could fuck you this hard and fast, especially Stephen, but you loved it.

“Fuck, sweetheart, fucking take it. Look at you taking all my cock like the good girl you are,” Stephen praised as he continued with his punishing pace. 

Your breasts began to bounce with the velocity of his thrusts and you knew you were going to cum soon, you could feel it. “Just like that. Fuck, Daddy, keep fucking me like that,” you cried out. You always knew using that word for older guys was a gamble, but you hoped Stephen didn’t mind it. 

Unfortunately though, as soon as the word left your mouth, Stephen's thrusts came to a halt as he stared down at you. You looked at his face trying to read him to see if he was put off by you calling him that.

“What did you just call me?” Stephen asked you.

You swallowed thickly, worried you had made a mistake by calling him that. You decided not to answer him and you hoped he would go back to fucking you, and thankfully, he did. 

He went back to his earlier pace, fucking you hard and fast as his fingers dug into your hips. You screamed for him again as he kept hitting that sensitive part deep inside of you. Your orgasm was seconds away, you could practically taste it.

“Fuck, Stephen. You’re going to make me cum,” you moaned as his cock continued to hit all the right spots.

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you cried out. 

Stephen kept moving as you wrapped your arms around him, your nails digging into his skin. Your toes curled and your back arched as he pounded into you. You were close. So close.

“Be a good girl and cum all over Daddy’s cock.” 

That was it for you. His words came out of nowhere and set you right over the edge. You screamed out as you came around his cock, your walls squeezing him tightly. He fucked you through your orgasm, dragging out the feeling for as long as possible, but as he kept moving, you felt something else building up, something you had never felt before. 

“Please keep fucking me. Oh, Stephen, I think I’m going to--” But before you could even finish your sentence, you felt yourself gushing around Stephen’s cock as he fucked you, drenching him with your juices. 

Stephen started groaning above you, and you knew he was close too, and you wanted him to fill you up. You needed it so bad. 

“You can cum inside of me. It’s okay, you can do it.”

It seems that’s all Stephen needed to hear because after a couple more thrusts, he let out a deep groan before painting your insides white. “Fuck, y/n. Such a good girl.”

Once he had given you every last drop, he pulled out of you, a whine escaping your lips at the loss of him. 

“Miss me already?” Stephen asked with a low chuckle. 

You felt your face heat up as you looked away from him, but you felt a finger on your chin as Stephen tilted your head up so your eyes met his again. 

“I’m just teasing you, sweetheart,” he assured you. 

“Okay,” you said, sending him a sweet smile, one he returned before he leaned down and kissed you sweetly. You kissed him back, but Stephen soon broke the kiss and moved his face down to your ear. 

“Did you know you squirted?” he whispered in your ear. 

That explains what that feeling was that you felt earlier. You didn’t think it was possible. “I didn’t realise that was what I was feeling. I’m sorry,” you winced, worried Stephen was grossed out by it. 

But he moved to give you another sweet kiss. “Don’t be sorry, it was hot.” 

You sent him another smile before Stephen moved off the bed. He disappeared into another room before returning with a damp washcloth in hand. He cleaned you up gingerly before tossing the cloth to the floor. He then moved and joined you back in his bed. 

Once he was comfortable, you moved over to him, getting settled on his chest. You felt him wrap a strong arm around you and soon you were met with a comfortable silence. 

“You know,” Stephen spoke up suddenly. “If you need me to take care of your urges again just ask.” 

You looked up at him and sent him a smile. “Yes, Doctor.” 

He let out a low chuckle before you shared one final kiss. Soon you found yourself falling asleep in his arms, satisfied that you finally had Stephen take you, and make you his. 

Tag list: @butchers-girl @azu21 @polytheatrix @lucimorningst4r @evelyn-kingsley @withalittlehoney @mirikusashes @bobateadaydreams @strangelockd @thealleydog @cemak @stewardofningishzida @lady-harvey @ironstrange1991 @smokeywhalee @floatingfireflies @marym7 @iamsherlocked1479 @bly2338 @icytrickster17 @asherloki @cobe76 @ssinimbrn-catsr0pia @aphroditesdilemma @strangesthirdeye @scxrleth3r

Four Stephens headcanon

How they are like? What are the similarities and differences?

A/N: This is just a short headcanon with the main differences from the four DS2 Stephens. I wrote this as a small celebration of the movie's 1 year anniversary. Anyway, I hope you like it and sorry for being so short.

Word count: 0,300k

Warnings: Mentions of sexual activities.

Original Stephen: Cocky. Egotistical. Gentle, affectionate. Will relinquish control on rare occasions. Best boyfriend you could ever have. Can make you laugh and make you horny at the same time. Scared to death of getting you pregnant, but would make a great dad. Loves cuddles, loves when you take care of his hands. Sex is always nice and hard, always open to trying new things. Will call you his whore. Daddy kink.

Defender Strange: Strict, but soft at the same time. Gentle. Very, very affectionate. Always in control of everything except in bed. Husband material. Amazing dad. Loves cuddles, loves when you caress his hair. Sex is always intense. Not very inventive. Loves when you ride him. Will let you call him your sweet boy sometimes. Will never call you his whore. You are his baby.

Supreme Strange: Narcissistic. Egotistical. Very, very jealous. Clingy. Always in control of everything. The definition of problematic boyfriend. Hates children. Loves cuddles, loves to sleep with his head on your chest or shoulder. Sex is always intense. Can be rough sometimes. Loves quickies. Will bend you over any possible furniture. Will call you his whore. Calls you stupid nicknames just to piss you off.

Sinister Strange: Scary. Possessive. Obsessed with you. Controls you all the time. Definition of abusive relationship. Has a strong breeding kink, but could never raise a child. Demands cuddles and sex all the time. Loves when you caress his goatee. Sex is always rough. Will constantly wake you up by fucking you. Will call you his sweet girl and fuck you like a whore. Strong daddy kink.

Tag list: @doctorstrangelovemusic-blog @rachelessfreedom-world @a-tong @ppatricia34me @strangesgirls @dreamxonxx @benaddictcumberpatch @iamsherlocked1479 @evelyn-kingsley @veryladyqueen @notglucose @wickedscribbles @agathassscribbles @rmoonstoner @fanartka @katehawke @nicoletk @azu21 @captaincarmel416 @harlekin6 @singhfae @coffedraven @withalittlehoney

@dontmindme262 @dementeddoll @yourmajesty13 @strangeions @bloodyflowerrr @insanelyobsessedwithdilfs @sherlocksgirl91 @dragonqueen89 @newtsniffles @cute-angi @whiskeyho @sherlux @xourownsidee @kakashibabe02 @hobimysolecito @geeky-politics-46 @lykaonimagines @d0ct0rstrangewife @classickook @iobsessoverfictionalmen @bobateadaydreams @aphroditesdilemma

@thealleydog @anadlockfan @pinkthick @loverofallbroken @butchers-girl

Musée de l'Orangerie

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader

Request: "I really wanna see something where the reader is a really sweet and sensitive person and like super bubbly and whatever and Stephen's kind of a hard ass but always softens around her. just like super fluff."

Summary: Spilt coffee, gallery dates, and a ray of sunshine

Tags: SUPER FLUFF

Word count: 3k

— Masterlist — Join the taglist — Request —

Stephen Strange had always been a serious man, too focused on his career, his ego, and his mandate to protect the universe to soften up. He meant everything he said and walked through life meaningfully, giving himself no room for error. 

He had first spoken to you in a cafe close to the Sanctum. He had spilt his drink on you, in a hurry to get to his morning meetings. Stephen had showered you with apologies, offering to buy you a new coffee, a new dress, anything. You had simply laughed at the situation, looking down at your stained white dress. “Don’t worry. It is okay! I was thinking of dyeing it with coffee anyway,” you had given him a soft smile, looking up to him sweetly. 

He had written his phone number on a piece of paper hurriedly, running his hand through his hair before apologising again, “I need to go now. Please call me so you can give me the details of your dress so I can pay you back.” He had not even let you answer as he walked out of the cafe with a severe and tense expression. You had stood there for a second, unsure what to think of the whole situation, smiling as you held the paper in your hand, confused. 

…

You did not call Stephen after the accident, simply going home and dipping the dress in a coffee/black tea concoction, hoping it would dye more or less uniformly. 

Stephen went on with his day, taking on every task head-on; however, he could not help but think of you as he attended his meetings, wondering how you had been so nice to him after he had messed up so badly. He had checked his phone multiple times, waiting for your text so he could apologise again, but the message never came. 

Your lack of contact left a bitter taste in his mouth. He wanted to apologise properly, pay for his mistake and well… have an excuse to talk to you again. He had seen you at the cafe a couple of times before, sometimes in some paint-stained overalls, order times in beautiful summer dresses. The only constant thing was your smile, always kind to everyone around you. A ray of sunshine even he could notice in those few minutes he spent in the same room as you. 

Weeks passed, and he found himself thinking about you constantly, hoping to run into you every time he grabbed his coffee and growing bitterly disappointed when he didn’t. Eventually, he lost all hope of ever seeing you again as he stopped going to the cafe altogether, growing too frustrated with your absence. 

…

That afternoon Peter was visiting. He had some school project he needed help with, something about a historical artefact that he believed to be somewhat magical given the legends. Stephen could barely keep up with the kid as he sped through his theories, pacing up and down the library of the Sanctum. “So, will you help me?” He finally concluded, stopping and giving the sorcerer an honest smile. 

“I don’t have time for this, kid,” Stephen answered back, closing the book on his lap and standing. “You can just google it.”

“But that’s the thing. I can’t! I am sure there is something somewhere here about it. Just help me look for it!” Peter pleaded his case, knowing he needed to impress his teacher to secure an A in the class. “Let me buy you a coffee, and I promise I won’t get in any trouble and stay out of your way for the rest of the school year if you help me!” 

“Sure,” Stephen sighed dramatically, walking towards the door. 

“Where are you going?” Peter followed, walking quickly to keep up with the sorcerer. 

“You said you would get me coffee.”

…

Stephen chose the cafe out of comfort as it was the closest to the Sanctum, trying to ignore the last bit of hope in his chest that you would be there. Parker walked by his side, rambling again about the project, but all Stephen could hear was his beating heart as he grew more hopeful every step of the way. He opened the door of the cafe, holding his breath in anticipation and felt his heart drop when you were once again not there. 

“Great…” he sighed, approaching the counter, “can I please have a black coffee and…” he stopped, turning to Peter. “Do you want anything without caffeine?”

“I am good, thank you,” Peter responded politely, slightly offended by the qualification of his offer.

“That’d be all.” Stephen kept his eyes on the counter as he waited for his drink, ignoring Peter who was speaking with somebody enthusiastically. The bartender passed the sorcerer his coffee, and he finally turned around to see his adoptive son speaking to you. He held his breath again, lips parted in shock as his eyes were focused on your face. 

“Stephen!” Peter noticed the sorcerer standing there frozen and introduced you. You were his AP Art History teacher. The project was for you. You smiled at the sorcerer, feeling your cheeks grow warm as he looked at you with so much intensity.

“So, what do you think of it?” You smiled at him, holding the sides of your dress. It took Stephen a minute to recognise the dress and realise you had dyed it. It looked beautiful, completely different from its original colour but equally as beautiful. 

“It looks lovely,” Stephen answered flustered as Peter looked at the two of you.

“You know each other?” The boy asked, confused. 

“You could say so. Stephen here helped me design this dress,” your smile was big, a ray of sunshine, Stephen thought. 

“I am still so very sorry for that. I waited for your call. I want to pay you back,” Stephen exclaimed, nervous and embarrassed, losing his cool, calm, and collected attitude for the first time in front of Peter.

“Don’t worry. I needed a reason to dye it.” You were so sweet, forgiving, pleasant—all the opposite of him, so prideful, judgmental, and stiff.

“Stephen is helping me with my research for the project!” Peter chimed in, trying to help his mentor, who seemed to be struggling to put a sentence together. 

“That’s great! Are you an art enthusiast?” You asked the doctor, surprised at the idea that such a proper man would be interested in art. 

“Yes! I love art, galleries, all of it,” Stephen’s lie caused Peter to choke slightly, coughing out a laugh before pulling himself together. 

 “Well, I am excited to read all about it in Peter’s paper.” You smiled at him, stepping to a side toward the counter to order your own coffee. “It was nice to meet you properly, Stephen.” 

Strange felt his stomach fill with butterflies as his name left your lips. You were just as he remembered you, better even. He needed to see you again. “Would you like to go to the MET? To an exhibition?” He blurted out the words, ignoring the shocked Peter that stood just steps away from him.

“Do you mean the Dutch paintings exhibition?” Your smile grew big, immediately excited at the idea of some company for your next visit. 

“Y-yes, I love Dutch art,” Stephen added, trying to sound as convincing as possible. 

“I would love that! Would you like to join us, Peter?” You turned to the boy, not wanting him to feel left out. Stephen cleared his throat, dissapoitned by your invitation, hoping to make it a date. 

“I-I think I am good. I am more of a Belgian art type of guy,” Peter joked, looking at Stephen playfully. 

“Okay then. I will write to you, Stephen,” you spoke as your coffee was delivered, giving him a shy smile as you felt your cheeks warm up, excited to spend time with the man alone.

“P-perfect,” Stephen spoke as you walked out of the cafe, leaving him speechless. 

…

“Oh my god, you have a crush on my teacher!” Peter shouted as soon as you were gone, causing the doctor the fulminate him with his eyes. 

“Lower your voice, Parker.” 

“So you are not denying it! Oh my god!” Peter continued, buzzing at the news. 

“I barely know her,” Stephen clarified, hoping it would somehow calm him down. 

“You asked her out on a date!!” Peter continued as the two walked out of the cafe, walking back towards the Sanctum. 

“Well, she did not think it was a date,” Stephen sighed, knowing he would not hear the end of this. 

“Oh no! She does. She was just being polite. That’s how she is. She always wants everyone to feel included. She is nice like that,” Peter explained, still shouting as he walked. Stephen could not help but smile at Peter’s words as his assumption of you seemed to be correct. A ray of sunshine. 

“It is not a date, kid. Now lower your voice. She does not need to hear all of this commotion,” Stephen ended the conversation, opening a portal even if just steps away from the Sanctum. Too afraid you could possibly be anywhere close by. “Now, let’s get this project going. I have to do a ton of research on Dutch art.”

…

Stephen had spent the next few days restless, waiting and checking his phone constantly, hoping you would text him. The torture was endless as not only his mind was stuck on you, but Peter texted him constantly asking for updates. He had studied everything he could find about the exhibition and, more generally, about Dutch art, hoping to make some complex connection to some painting in another gallery.

As Friday approached, he had almost lost all hope, lying disappointed on his bed. He almost ignored the ring of his phone. Sure it was just another call by the Avengers or Peter wanting an update. As the phone rang, he forced himself to reach for it, noticing an unknown number on the screen. He answered immediately, wondering if it could possibly be you. 

“Hello,” he spoke, serious as always. 

“Stephen, are you free?” Your voice filled his ears, immediately stamping a smile on his face. 

“When?” He asked, confused by your question. 

“Right now, are you free?” You giggled. 

“Yes, I-I have nothing to do,” Stephen replied, starting to pace through the room. 

“Well, should we go to the exhibition?” He could hear your smile through the phone, immediately making his heart beat faster. 

“Now?” He asked, shocked by the short notice, not used to spontaneous activities. 

“Why not?” You giggled again, realising that he was not the type to do unplanned activities. 

“For sure. Should we meet there?” Stephen could not help but grin. He could not believe it. He would see you so incredibly soon. 

“Yes! I am leaving school right now. See you there in one hour?” 

“I’ll be there,” he spoke short in breath, too busy smiling in disbelief. 

“See you there!” You spoke before hanging up. Stephen immediately shook his head, still holding that stupidly big smile on his lips. There was no time to smile like an idiot; he needed to get ready, find the right button-up, and get you some flowers. Should he get you some flowers? He was not sure, pacing through the room to his closet. Over-thinking what you could think of his outfit. 

…

Stephen opened the portal in a rush, finally deciding on his shirt after trying more than a dozen. He had no time to get you flowers. He would get you flowers next time. If there was a next time, oh how he hoped there would be a next time. 

You stood in front of the entrance, speaking to an elderly couple, smiling at them with that smile that drove Stephen crazy. The doctor approached you, waving shyly at you from a distance to make sure he did not interrupt you. You politely excused yourself from the couple and walked towards him, “I am sorry. They seemed lost, and I thought I would help! They are from Boston, David is a mechanic, and Sally used to be an English teacher!” You grinned, looking up at him as if there was nothing more normal than helping strangers and making small talk with them, especially as a New Yorker. 

Stephen was in awe, opening his mouth to say something but stopping himself. He could not believe it, a ray of sunshine. 

“Are you okay?” You giggled, touching his bicep delicately. Your touch on his shirt instantly sent an electric feeling throughout his body. 

“Yes, sorry. You are just very nice to everyone.” Stephen shook his head, unsure whether he had worded that correctly. The two of you started to walk towards the main door. 

“Shouldn’t we all be nice to everyone?” You asked, slightly confused, furrowing your brow inquisitively.

“Yes, of course. I think most people just forget most of the time,” Stephen clarified his previous statement, feeling his cheeks blush. You had called him out without even trying. He was so focused on his work, duties, and all, that sometimes he forgot to be kind to the people around him, too focused on the big picture. 

…

The date went fantastically as Stephen did not even dare to voice any of his last-minute knowledge on the paintings, too enthralled by your excitement and expertise to even interrupt you. He could listen to you all day. You made everything sound so special, made everyone feel so special and made it all look so easy. Stephen was sure that if any of the dead painters heard you speak about them, they would immediately fall in love with you. 

He felt the shield he had placed around his heart crumble in your presence as every look, every word and even the slightest touch made his heart soar. You brought him out of his tunnel vision, giving him an appreciation for the mundane he had long lost. He could not remember the last time he had visited a gallery or done anything that did not push a bigger purpose, for that matter. 

It was nice to just walk around aimlessly, learning about art he would have never even known existed if it wasn’t for you. 

“I hope I am not boring you to death,” you chuckled, looking down and shaking your head as your cheeks grew warm. You had not realised how long you had been talking for, too excited by the exhibition to keep it all in. 

“Oh, don’t worry. This is so interesting. You know so much,” Stephen responded immediately, trying his best to reassure you of his interest, worried that his natural stoic expression had led you to believe he was bored. 

“Please let me know when I am annoying. I really don’t want to bore you,” you tried to apologise anyway, used to people being overwhelmed by your natural excitement. 

“You could never bore me,” the doctor spoke in a moment of sincerity, instantly clearing his throat, slightly embarrassed. 

…

The date came to an end as the MET closed. Stephen could have honestly spent the entire night walking through the different collections, learning more and more about all of this beauty. “Thank you for this,” Stephen spoke as you walked out of the building. 

“Oh no, thank you. I have been meaning to come to see the exhibition for a while. I just could not find an excuse to do so.” You looked away from him, feeling suddenly shy, no longer in your artistic comfort zone. 

“I would love to do this again,” Stephen fought off his nerves, needy to know he would see you again. 

“Me too…” you met his eyes, biting your lip as you could not help but smile at him. God, he made you so nervous, you were a naturally smiley person, but Stephen’s presence pushed it to another level. 

“What’s your favourite gallery?” He asked, smiling back at you. If anybody saw him, they would not believe it. Stephen Strange being so relaxed, so genuinely happy and worry-less. 

“It’s probably the Musée de l'Orangerie in Paris. It is not big, but Monet is my favourite painter,” you responded. 

“Should we go there tomorrow?” Stephen asked, breaking any habit of planning every movement, every day, throwing the chessboard he called life out of the window for a second. 

“To Paris? Tomorrow?” You spoke in shock as your smile grew bigger and bigger. You could not believe it. “I have work on Monday. I don’t think we can find a cheap last-minute flight that would come back on time!”

“Don’t worry about any of that. Just let me know if you’d like to go on a second date with me. To Paris. Tomorrow.” Stephen spoke, matching your excitement, feeling youthful all at once, feeling truly in the present for the first time in years. “I will have you back on time for class. We can come back right after we visit the gallery. No pressure,” he added, scared he was possibly pushing you into something you did not want. 

“I-I would love to go on a second date.” You spoke dreamily, looking at him as if you could not believe he was quite real, wondering where the stoic busy man had gone. “To Paris. With you. Tomorrow.” You giggled, shaking your head and closing your eyes. 

Stephen’s hands reached for your face, cupping it and lifting your gaze back to him. “Then it is settled, ray of sunshine.” You felt your cheeks burn at his words. You had no idea what expected you or where this was going, but you did not care. You were always up for a spontaneous adventure, and Stephen seemed to be, for the first time in his life, up for one too. 

----

*could be read as a prologue to "My Personal Ray of Sunshine"*

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ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ | ꜱ. ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ

Stephen Strange x Surgeon!Reader

summary: YN had been struggling with a cold for as long as she could remember – well, for a week. But being her restless and (kinda) workaholic self, this minor cold morphed into something that benched her definitively. And who could be a better caretaker than her loving boyfriend, who happens to be a doctor himself?

word count: 7.3k

warnings: a tiny bit drama, medical stuff, surgery stuff, mentions of sick people, surgery, mentions of blood, reader has pneumonia, passing out, hospital environment, Stephen kinda freaks out because he is always thinking the worst, protective!Stephen, soft!Stephen (but only for reader), slight suggestive bits, so much fluff, talk about future, short mentions of the Avengers

author’s note: I had so much fun writing this request! Finally something where I could pour my Grey’s Anatomy knowledge into :D I really hope you like the direction in which this one went @colewritess :3 I needed some angsty drama in my life, so I put that in :x

Waking up in the middle of the night was something very common in the Strange-LN household ever since the two doctors had acquired their white coats and had graduated with honors. Usually, YN was the first one to wake up to the vibration of her pager, followed by the usual soft ring of her phone because one of her interns would update her on the incoming case beforehand. Stephen would follow close behind, throwing one arm lazily over her waist at first to nuzzle his face back into the warmth of her neck - it helped him to shrug the deep slumber off his hardworking mind - before the blanket would get thrown away to relieve the world of the sadness of not seeing his toned, utterly gorgeous body.

YN was nothing but an admiring girlfriend.

But this early morning, almost still the depth of the night, things were differently: Instead of hearing the tired voice of his girlfriend softly speaking into the phone and waking him up with that, so he could check his already vibrating pager too, the only sounds heard in the dark bedroom was YN's shallow breath and the never-ending sounds of both pagers and her almost barely ringing phone. Confusion settled into the doctor, even more so after he had propped himself up on one of his arms, letting the mattress dip in the process of it, and still, YN did not start to stir even slightly. But before he could process her strange behavior, he had to accept the call.

"Yes?"

He never was a fan of greetings, especially not in the face of interns - and he kind of enjoyed messing around with those tiny ducklings, barely out of their mother's homes, who still had to learn a lot. Even now, Stephen could almost grab the perplexity radiating through his girlfriend's phone at the sound of his voice.

"Uhm... This is Doctor LN's number. You are not Doctor LN," a hesitant voice started to speak, and Stephen had to roll his eyes in amusement before they settled atop the still sleeping form of the woman he not only shared this bed with on a few occasions. "A wonder how you earned that place in Harvard, Jones," the Strange scoffed while he reached out for his bedside lamp to let the soft light invade the dark bedroom, only illuminated by the streetlights and passing cars outside the window front. Blinking against the new light source, he took a closer look at the gorgeous woman next to him, his eyebrows starting to furrow at the sight of her puffy eyes, the red nose resembling one of the stuffed Rudolphs they had seen only a week ago while doing their annual Christmas shopping, and not to mention her breathing of which he obviously wasn't a huge fan. "Hold on a second..." The seemingly simpleminded intern mumbled before he clearly put the phone a few inches away from his face to shout over the entire floor, "You were right, Macy! Doctor LN and Strange are a thing!" And then, the voice returned, louder now.

This day hadn't even begun, and Stephen wanted to strangle the first one already.

"I am sorry, sir. The coffee still has to kick in, I guess... Nevermind. There is a GSW incoming: a bullet in his brain and several in his thorax. He was stable, so we decided to do a CT. I'll send the images to Doctor LN's tablet as soon as I have them." At least Jones wasn't a total incompetent fool, so Stephen didn't have to rip his head off entirely. "Send them to mine; she will look at them on our way to the hospital. Don't let him die because your coffee addiction gets in the way of saving lives." And with that, he ended the call, and the phone landed on his pillow before Stephen slowly scooted closer to the sleeping woman, and now he finally had room for his over-boarding worries etching themselves into his mind.

Gently, his hand caressed her cheek before his flat palm made contact with her forehead to feel her temperature. Maybe slightly raised, Stephen thought before bending down and pressing whisper of kisses all over her face. Now, she seemed to wake up - scrunching her nose, twisting her lips, and the coughs started almost immediately. They were his constant companion as soon as he stepped into the apartment ever since they began to occur one and a half weeks ago, and by now, the cold should've calmed down. Instead, it seemed worse than yesterday. His idea to grab dinner on their way home wasn't probably his best idea of the week, but YN had seemed fine enough to agree.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Stephen mumbled with his lips pressed against her cheek, and YN slowly turned her head with a groan. "What time is it?" Even her voice sounded horrible. "Something around three. There is a GSW coming in, but you can stay home if you like. I'm handling it." The next cough made the man almost flinch, and he was sure he felt the aching pain in his lungs and throat as bad as YN obviously did, judging by her scrunched-up face and her hand that had settled atop her burning throat. She looked back at him and cocked an eyebrow. "Thorax?"

He nodded while her eyebrow wandered even further up. "Who is in charge this night? Forgot to check before we headed out." Stephen didn't have to think twice.

"Hamilton."

"And you want me to stay home when this imbecile of a cardiothoracic surgeon is unsupervised in my department? Your sense of humor definitely wasn't the thing I found so charming, that's for sure..."

She had already started to climb out of the comforting warmth of their shared bed, and instantly YN missed its soft embrace.

"Touché," the man scoffed while following her into the now brightly lit bathroom and watched her from the doorframe, where he leaned with his arms crossed over his chest. She seemed not doing all too well, but at least she could stand on both feet, so he talked himself into believing that everything would be just fine, even though if it meant for her standing in the OR for at least five hours. "You will drive back home after the surgery is done, do you understand me? No post-op check-up, no sneaking around me to dodge the inevitable, no rounds this morning, and no teaching lab with your little ducklings." Her, by the toothbrush muffled, Whatever was very audible for Stephen because he knew this woman better than himself. So he pushed himself off the doorframe and stepped right behind her; their eyes met through the mirror while his hands settled on top of her shoulders, where his thumbs started to massage the stiff muscles around the back of her neck. "I mean it, darling. You're not doing well, and I want you to relax and treat yourself to some hot soup and that fluffy blanket we got last week. Catch up on those shows, and I'm gonna try to get home early so I can prep you the perfect bath and cook you something nice."

He stopped for a second, but after no reaction on her behalf, Stephen bent his head to nibble at the side of her neck and found all her favorite spots before humming softly but raspy because he knew what his morning voice did to this woman. "I asked you a question, darling. Should I repeat myself for you?" Chuckling at the sight and feeling of her quick nod - the toothbrush rested pointlessly in the corner of her mouth - Stephen rested his lips just above her ear and watched her through the mirror again. "I asked," he started in his raspiest of morning voices, "if you understand me." Her deep sigh and mumbled "Okay, yes" sounded more like a tiny moan, and the doctor chuckled for another time before pressing a kiss to her temple and starting to brush his teeth as well; his arm closely wrapped around her waist and her body settling against his side, just as every morning they start together.

And just as every morning, Stephen couldn't get enough of their reflection together. Maybe he had to finally thank Christine for the hard work she had invested into playing matchmaker for them.

;

"Doctor LN!" The excited voice turned a bit hesitant as both arriving doctors turned around, and Jones had to face the embarrassment from earlier. "Doctor Strange, sir." And with that, the intern held two cups of to-go coffees in hand, stretching them out to his two supervisors. "I asked Doctor Palmer how you like your coffee, sir," he quickly spoke at the doubting look manifesting on Stephen's face, and YN rolled her still tired eyes. They stung a bit as well, as she now realized. "Deep breaths, Jones, he won't bite your head off." The man closely next to her scoffed before taking the first sip. "I wouldn't go this far as to promise things like that." YN hit him with her tablet but didn't wait for his reaction before turning her attention back to the intern while giving the labs of their GSW another once-over. She looked at Jones with a questioning expression after she had evaluated the patient's current constitution. They had worked so many hours together that she didn't even need to ask the question out loud. "Doctor Russel is preparing the anesthesia, and the team has prepped OR two, just the way you both prefer, Doctor LN, Doctor Strange."

Stephen had to raise both his eyebrows this time and had to admit that Jones wasn't a total catastrophe - he had to give him that at least.

YN nodded as they waited for the elevator to reach the operation room floor. As the doors opened to let them inside the metal coffin, as she loved to call this vicious transportation method, she gulped down the entirety of her coffee because she felt she needed every single drop of caffeine to withstand the upcoming hours of work. Her head had started to pound right after they had left the chic apartment Stephen and she called her own ever since they had finally moved together after three years of tedious dating, and it had gotten worse during the drive over here.

She hadn't told her over-worrying boyfriend a single word, of course. She would do this surgery, she would check up on some patients, and then - maybe - she would gift herself an early leave as a pre-Christmas kind of gift and get some good food on her way home. Perhaps she could start looking at those recipes she discovered while watching some stupid cooking show - which wasn't so stupid at all, seemingly.

Christmas dinner wouldn't cook itself after all, and she had promised Christine and her fiancé Marc that they could come over. Christmas was much more relaxed if there wasn't a family to celebrate it with.

But her confused thoughts, who chased themselves over the past couple of days since the first symptoms had begun, were interrupted abruptly as her throat acted up again. It started with a tingle, morphing into an annoying scratch before it would turn into a violent coughing fit. And it did, worse than ever. It got even worse after the first couple of nastily wet and deep-sounding coughs, and YN felt as if she couldn't get enough air into her overworking lungs. Her lungs constricted to relieve themselves of all the fluid which wasn't supposed to be in there, and every single breath burned like hell in her chest.

With one hand pressed against the elevator wall, the surgeon steadied herself, head buried in the crook of her arm, while cough after cough crept out of her throat and shook her entire body. Tears started to prickle in her stinging eyes, and the throbbing pain inside her skull increased tremendously within seconds.

Stephen was right at her side, one of his warm hands stroking over her entire back, up and down, while the familiar frown etched itself onto his forehead and in the space between his brows. Jones didn't know what to do, so he just stood there and hoped for a fast end of his favorite supervisor's misery. "Hey," the neurosurgeon mumbled softly as the coughing fit finally ceased, hand still rubbing over her back. "YN, listen," he began as the elevator stopped and the doors opened with a happy ding. “It’s nothing. Just a drop of coffee going in the wrong direction.” And with that, she pushed herself from the wall, fastened the grip around the tablet still in hand, and followed Jones, who himself had a worried expression on his face, but he didn't dare to say something. Especially not in front of Stephen Strange, who could end his barely started career right on this very spot. Instead, he took the personal belongings of both surgeons and nodded to the small changing room in this part of the hospital. "Your scrubs are already in there, straight from dry-cleaning. OR two will be fully prepped as soon as you're ready," he said before scurrying away.

Stephen watched his girlfriend with eagle eyes as he followed her into the changing room, and while she had already slipped out of her coat, he pushed the door close and just stood there. His eyes moved over her pale face - even more so than usual - and he noticed the constant frown engraved in her beautiful but tired-looking face. He even realized that she moved slower than normal, and everything took a tad longer. "YN...," he started again but was faced with a raised hand while she hurried to get into the dark blue scrubs.

The air condition in this part of the building was what she dreaded most since that cold had made its first appearance with a scratchy throat. Now all she wanted was to get back into that warm, thick coat she just had folded and wanted to wrap herself into the thick scarf Stephen had gotten her for Christmas two years ago, but all she got was thin blue scrubs and her comfy Nike sneakers.

"I am fine," she told him finally while popping another cough drop between her lips and starting to braid her hair. Stephen had, at last, made an effort to change as well, and YN was nothing but an admiring girlfriend again. She knew that sex was off the table until she got better, so she took what she could get very willingly, even if it were only tiny bread crumbs in the form of the sight of toned abs, biceps, and back. "Yeah... Wonder why that's so hard to believe after that coughing fit you threw in that elevator," he returned almost sourly, and YN understood it. She really did because she would be just as on edge as he was if it was Stephen who had gotten sick.

Sighing, the surgeon tied the end of her braid together before starting to secure it with bobby pins around her head. Stephen sighed as well and came over to her after lacing his sneakers and helped her just like every time they had the pleasure to operate together. He didn't say a single word, and YN let him sulk in silence for the time being. The Strange would soon open his mouth again because he wasn't the sulking-in-silent type of guy, and she was very thankful for this trade of his. How she hated to guess what wrong was and why the guy felt insulted. Stephen was surprisingly easy.

The entire world would question her sanity if they would ever hear her saying that out loud.

Upon entering the scrubbing area, she tied his recently preferred cap - she had gotten him that for his birthday because this man owned way too many ties - before he did the same for her. He pressed a soft kiss on her shoulder after his long and fast-working fingers were done and took the sink next to hers, where YN already had started to scrub in after putting on the face mask.

Stephen soon broke the silence, and again, she had been right: this man wasn't able to sulk on his own for long.

"As soon as your part is done, I want you to get an x-ray. I don't like the sound of that cough. You're happy that I don't have my stethoscope with me, otherwise, you wouldn't scrub in right now because I would hear something I really don't wanna hear, and I would send you straight up to Chamberlain." At the mention of the one cardiothoracic surgeon Stephen trusted most of the time, YN scrunched up her face. "I told you before, and I will tell you again, that I am fine. It's a nasty cold, nothing more. You're over-exaggerating." He stopped in the middle of scrubbing, head jerking in her direction. At this moment, she was glad that she only was able to see his eyes and the play of his eyebrows, but it was still as bad as she had anticipated. "Excuse me for worrying about my workaholic girlfriend who seemingly doesn't possess any kind of sense of self-preservation." Her eyes widened at that, and after rinsing off the soap residue on her arms, she threw the used bar of soap into the metal sink and turned to Stephen, arms raised so she wouldn't touch anything in the not sterile environment. "Look who's talking about lacking a sense of self-preservation. Do I have to remind you of that little episode of yours standing in a thirteen-hour surgery with a broken ankle? You're a fucking hypocrite, Stephen, and I am a grown woman who knows her boundaries very well, thank you very fucking much."

And with that, she passed him and entered the operation room, where the patient was already put under, and two of the residents prepared the last few instruments to their surgeon's liking. She instantly regretted every single word she had spoken out loud back in the scrubbing room and wanted to run back to apologize profusely, but she knew that she had to stand her point, even though it hurt her heart.

One of the nurses held open the light blue gown, and YN entered arms first before pushing her hands into the open-held gloves, sighing softly. Those steps were always almost meditative for her and her mind, always putting her at ease, no matter how severe the case was.

The OR was her safe place when other places weren't available - just like now because the safe place that Stephen represented wasn't available, not until the steam wore off and their sights weren't as red-tinted as they were now. Sometimes it was hard to love a person that was so similar to oneself, but YN had chosen, and she never regretted choosing Stephen as her partner in every moment that life offered her.

Stepping at the operating table, YN nodded in everyone's direction to greet them, and she pushed every thought about their little fight out of her mind. "Good morning, everybody. Long time no see, June." The OR nurse chuckled. "I thought we would get at least a day and a half before being back in here together." YN grinned behind her mask and softly shrugged. "Hope you had a good coffee because judging by those scans, we will be here for quite some time. Is your son at daycare? Do you need to go and call someone to pick him up later?"

Stephen had entered quietly - he preferred it that way, unlike his girlfriend - but watched her closely because it always left him speechless what a welcoming and open-hearted nature this woman had who had chosen to live with him. He still asked himself why she had decided that he was the one person worthy enough of her love and attention.

"He is upstairs at the emergency daycare, no worries, Doctor LN. We prepared a bottle of water for you, by the way. Doctor Jones said you could use a sip here and there." Nodding her head, YN stepped closer and opened her gloved hand. "Thanks, June. Ten blade, please."

Stephen had already started with the incision and worked through the brain's tissue while always having an eye on the cardiothoracic surgeon just a few feet further down to him.

;

Dabbing with a clean towel over the recently repaired aorta, YN slowly nodded, satisfied with her work. No one would suspect this artery was a shredded mess three hours ago. "Okay... Those stitches look good. Suction." The resident, Doctor Peterson, moved the tube slowly through the chest cavity. "Over here?" His question was unanswered for an unusual amount of time, so he looked up to see his supervisor's face. "Doctor LN?" Blinking, YN raised her head and watched Peterson before turning her attention back to the open chest in front of her. Her brain had difficulties following everything after standing for six hours straight. "Yes... Yes, sorry. Right over there."

Stephen had stopped working as the question arose and yet again watched the woman with eagle eyes.

She turned her head to cough softly into her mask while pressing her face against the sterile OR gown at her shoulder. Clearing her throat, YN nodded as one of the not scrubbed-in nurses raised the half-emptied water bottle and waited until one took off the light of her head, pulled down the mask, and finally put the straw right in front of her lips. YN's team was the best a surgeon could find, she was sure of that. "Thanks, Helen," she mumbled after everything was back at its place, and she stepped back at the table.

"What's happening next?" She asked Peterson now, her voice scratchier than ever, and her lungs started to protest again. Taking a deep breath - well, as deep as it was possible with a lower lung capacity - YN tried to shake off that strange feeling as if her head was wrapped in cotton and as if she couldn't get enough air into her lungs and much-needed oxygen into her bloodstream. "We will follow the aorta up to the left ventricle, check the three branches - brachiocephalic artery, left common carotid artery, and the left subclavian artery - before taking him off the cardiopulmonary bypa-... Doctor YN? Are you alright?"

She barely could understand his words, but the sound of the scalpel hitting the ground next to her right foot was all-consuming. YN didn't even realize that it had fallen out of her strangely numb fingers at which she stared now, unmoving. Everything seemed so far gone in front of her eyes, especially as the room started to spin around her.

"YN? YN, talk to me. What is wrong?"

Stephen. His voice was as calm as ever, but she couldn't push herself to move her head and look into his handsome face. Everything was spinning too much.

"I... I don't feel so well..."

It was barely a whisper, and if the operation room weren't deadly silent, except for the monitors and the oxygenator, no one would've understood it. But Stephen's mind switched focus between the open brain in front of him and his girlfriend only two feet away. The constant switch was as smooth as it had always been, even though his brain screamed to stop working and to rush over to her. But he couldn't let go, not with the DeBakey forceps in this man's brain and near the last splinter of the broken bullet. Instead, his hand didn't move a single inch while he raised his gaze to stare over at YN.

"Keep on talking, darling. Talk to me. What's wrong?"

He needed to keep her conscious, and it always helped when he was calm and asked her questions she could easily answer. Just as he would do during one of her anxiety or panic attacks. He could see her blinking slowly, almost in slow-motion while her brain tried to keep up with his words, even though it would love to just blink out.

"Chest's hurting. My head... Everything's spinning. I... Stephen..."

And with that, her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she collapsed onto the sterile floor. He could hear instruments clattering on the floor, and Stephen didn't want to think about the possibility that her head had hit the instrument's tray.

"YN?!"

"Doctor LN!"

"Oh gosh, Doctor LN?"

"Get her some oxygen, god damn it!"

Suddenly, pure chaos dominated the operation room, and Stephen worked as fast as he could while shouting questions.

"Could somebody talk to me?!" He needed to know if she was okay. "Somebody needs to say something, or this entire room gets fired!" Stephen didn't care if he sounded like a maniac. "85/50. It's a wonder she held up for this long. Open wound at her right forehead, probably needs stitching. Doctor LN? YN, can you hear me?" The sound of snapping fingers was heard, but no answer. One of the nurses looked back at him, kneeing on the ground next to YN. "We'll bring her upstairs, Doctor Strange." He quickly looked up, straight into the nurse's face. "Make an x-ray of her lungs, a head CT to clear her of a concussion, and don't you dare let anyone other than Henderson stitch that. Page Doctor Palmer, she will see through with everything. And someone needs to page Chamberlain; we still have an open chest here." Shuffling was heard before the anesthesiologist spoke up right next to him. "Hamilton is on duty, sir," he reminded the neurosurgeon, but Stephen scoffed while slowly grabbing the bullet with the forceps. "I don't care if that accident of a surgeon is the fucking president of the United States. Get. Me. Chamberlain." YN would decapitate him with her bare hands if she learned about the fact that Hamilton had ruined hours of her hard, perfect work.

And with that, he returned to his job, mind still a bit out of tune with an unconscious YN being put on a gurney and pushed out of the room only several feet away from him.

He had never felt more helpless in his life.

Do your job, and you can look after her. Do your job, and you can sit next to her and wait for her to wake up. Everything will be okay, Stephen. Stop spiraling.

;

The familiar sounds of the hospital surrounded him, but Stephen almost didn't hear them, not since he had gotten the x-ray scans of YN's lungs and the CT of her head. His eyes were practically glued to the tablet screen in his hands, forearms resting on his knees and supporting the weight of his upper body. He couldn't sit straight anymore, nor could he stand, not since they had been left alone in the room YN now occupied in the cardiothoracic unit.

It had taken a long time until he got some peace and quietness minus the beeping sounds of the machines hooked up to his girlfriend because she always had been admired and loved by her colleagues. Everyone had wanted to come by and leave little cards full of Get well soon. If flowers were allowed, the room would probably be filled with them by now.

Rubbing his tired eyes, Stephen scanned the images of the CT another time - he had stopped counting an hour ago - and as all the times before that, he stared at the mild concussion caused by the metal table full of surgical instruments and the hit on the floor right after that. He had scheduled a second CT in about an hour because he had to be sure there wasn't any bleeding, as minor as it could be. He couldn't allow himself to miss it - it would not only end her career, but it could steal the love of his life right from under his eyes in the worst case.

And Stephen always measured in worst-case scenarios if it involved his girlfriend.

A nurse entered the room silently to replace the drip of antibiotics her body would've needed days ago, but better late than never, he guessed. He didn't acknowledge his presence at all - he wasn't in the mood for small talk or reassurances - so he left after checking his supervisor's vitals, and they were alone again.

Typing on the glass screen, the neurosurgeon made sure that the second head CT was indeed booked, even thinking about changing it to a CT with contrast indication, but Christine would probably kill him if she saw how he spiraled and put the tablet on the bedside table. Everything will be alright, he told himself, his hands rubbing over his face and through his now messy hair.

He just had rested his face in the palm of his hands as the sound of movements under the blanket pushed Stephen to look up again. A hoarse groan followed close, and instantly, the man raised from the chair and sat on the edge of the comfortable bed. His eyes took her face in, scanned it for any indication of a stroke everyone had missed out on, and gently held the hand who wasn't hooked up to the drip and heart monitor. Finally, YN's eyes opened slowly, and she blinked; another groan escaped her at the blinding light.

"YN," Stephen almost whispered and scooted a bit closer. A soft but questioning "Hm" was all he got for now, and his heart started to race in his chest; every stimulant responsible for the emotions of fear and panic distributed into his bloodstream, and his usually barely rising anxiety had its peak season with all the adrenaline rushing through is body. He couldn't think straight when it came to her. Never. So he started to caress her face with the tips of his fingers - starting right above her brow, down over her temples, and over her cheeks because he knew that it almost always tickled her, and she would scrunch up her nose. She did exactly that, but only barely noticeable. "YN, I need you to focus, darling. Can you squeeze my hands?" Stephen already held both her hands, and she squeezed them; softly at first, but with every passing second, her grip became tighter. "Okay. Good job, love. Can you feel this?" Stephen's hand had slipped under the blanket to stroke his fingertips over the soles of her feet, and her toes wiggled at the ticklish feeling.

A cough shook her body again before YN could open her mouth. "Could you please stop tickling a barely awake woman? That's socially considered as rude as fuck," her hoarse voice whispered, and Stephen instantly took her hand between his and pressed it against his still rapidly beating heart. "YN." Seemingly, his brain had lost its capacity because Stephen could only mumble her name. Relief rushed through him and counterattacked the adrenaline.

The woman opened her eyes, blinking, to look up at him. "Yeah, s'still my name." Her head throbbed, and she didn't want to know what had happened after her brain had decided to quit his job entirely. "Stop freaking out, Stephen, I'm alright." She tenderly squeezed one of his hands and had to sneeze as she realized the feeling of oxygen tickling the insides of her nose. "Y'all really went all out on me." Amusement was evident in her small voice, but Stephen couldn't laugh about it - and probably would never do.

"You scared the hell out of me, YNN."

Suddenly, she turned serious and beckoned him closer. The tired man obliged but wasn't prepared for her pulling his head onto her chest, but he didn't mind. It had always been his most favorite spot in the world. He felt safe. And cherished. And loved. YN's fingers carded through his hair, which just started to turn grey at his temples, but differently to him, she didn't want him to dye it, so he didn't get the at-home dye while getting the groceries last week.

It was strange what he would do for this woman. But at the same time, it wasn't, especially with the thought about that black velvety box hidden in his locker lingering in the back of his mind.

"I'm sorry, love," she whispered into his soft strands and kissed his head. "Wasn't my intention, really. Thought I'd be strong enough. Strong enough for my patient and strong enough for you." Now, he had to prop himself up on his arm to stare incredulously at the woman he loved more than anything. "I am sorry, but what?" YN shrugged and felt pitiful. "Y'know, you're this incredible man and surgeon, always perfect, always giving his entire being for his patients, and I need to keep up with that, so you won't leave me because you'd find a better, more perfect woman, and-..." He interrupted her nonsense by starting to pepper kisses over her face, except her lips. They didn't need another pneumonia in just a week or two. "Wherever those thoughts came from, you can send them back there, darling. Okay?" Slowly, YN nodded and closed her eyes with a sigh as Stephen pressed a lingering kiss to her still warm forehead.

"Can you show me the scans?"

He stayed close to her as his hand grabbed the tablet and opened her file. Stephen watched her as her eyes darted over every lab they had run, every x-ray image (which looked even worse than she had anticipated, but she couldn't change that anymore), and at last, she scanned the CT. "There is probably a second one coming, am I right?" He shrugged while she softly laughed under her breath and let the tablet sink onto the thickest blanket this hospital owned. "How long will you keep me locked away at our place, Doctor?" The Strange was still propped up on his arms, as close to her as possible without crashing her with his weight or putting too much pressure on her already hard-working lungs, and hummed, deep in thought. "With that much fluid and inflammation in your lungs and larynx? Not to mention the concussion?"

She rolled her eyes. "Please, it's a baby concussion."

Stephen cocked an eyebrow. "Ah, so now you're the world's best neurosurgeon?"

"Don't flatter yourself." She rolled her eyes. "That title can earn anyone, even you." YN hit his shoulder playfully, and a small grin tucked at her lips. An unbelieving but humored "Hmpf" escaped the surgeon before he turned serious again. "Back to the topic at hand. Until you're discharged, you will do whatever the staff is saying. You won't discharge yourself or medicate yourself." YN had already opened her mouth to say something, but Stephen only had to shake his head in one direction, and she closed it again. "Don't try to talk me out of it because I know you, YN LN." Now it was her turn to "Hmpf" in annoyance. "Anyway. After you're discharged, you will stay at home, catch up on all of your movies and shows, bake to your heart's desire, and recover. I don't have to tell you what pneumonia does to your lungs in the long run. You will have to strengthen them again, and that's exactly what you're gonna do, darling. Looking after yourself and taking care of your health and body because I need you a few more years longer."

A loving smile settled upon her tired face, and YN tenderly caressed his cheek with her knuckles. "So... You won't get tired of me just yet?" Stephen chuckled before pressing a kiss into the palm of her hand. "I am not quite sure if that's even a possibility, darling," he returned and kissed her palm a second and a third time, his mind always wandering back to his locker and the box he intended to show her on Christmas Eve because it was one of her favorite days of the entire year. Now, he would have to postpone everything he had planned.

It may be a small throwback, but it would still be perfect.

A soft knock at the doorframe moved the couple to look over and see a smiling Christine standing there. "Sleeping Beauty is awake and obviously fine, perfect. He drove me crazy in the last couple of hours." Stephen rose from his comfortable position and turned his head to his friend. "I wasn't that bad," he tried to defend himself, but now it was YN who scoffed. "Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that, love." Then, looking at Christine, she continued: "He went all neurosurgeon-mode because I didn't jump on the bed right after the first blink. Thought my brain would be mush, and I'd be a lost cause." He never stood a chance against these two women, always calling him out and letting him face his flaws - which he never liked much.

"Whatever," he mumbled at the chuckle of his friend before turning back to the redhead. "Is the CT ready?" Christine nodded in approval, and right after that, a nurse pushed a wheelchair into the room.

With the most neutral expression on her face, which looked kind of pissed, YN changed looks with both doctors.

"I'm not gonna sit in that thing."

–

She arrived at the CT in said thing.

;

She felt soft pecks of even softer lips on her face, and she woke up to that feeling. Yawning, YN blinked up, and both arms fought a way out of the fluffy blanket cocoon she had wrapped herself into to circle them around Stephen's neck.

Ever since her discharge two weeks ago, she had been a good patient, an excellent one, to be quite honest. She never overdid it, always respecting the new boundaries her still recovering lungs had set for her and always listening to the doctors. Well, more like listening to Stephen because he was the one doctor she trusted the most.

"You're early again," the woman mumbled against the skin of his neck, where her face was securely tucked away, and YN could feel his lips on her skin once again. "I told you how this would go. Do my promises mean so little to you?" Grinning, she shrugged and let him sit her up on the comfortable couch she fell asleep on while watching a random news channel.

Apparently, the Avengers were back in the city, and YN desperately hoped she didn't need to drive detours on end just because they thought it would be a great idea to stroll around town, so idiotic humans could form crowds at the glimpse of one of them.

Shaking her head, the woman pushed her fingers through his hair that had acquired a few more grey patches, which she secretly admired every day. "It's just that I know you, Stephen, and I know your workaholic tendencies are just as bad as mine." YN kissed the cold tip of his nose and accepted the cup of tea he had grabbed from the coffee table. "Did you take your meds?" She nodded proudly. "Yup. And the throbbing is finally gone without an Advil." That concussion had been a constant pain in her ass.

Stephen smiled one of his satisfied smiles and kissed her forehead while standing up again. "Well, with that out of the way..." He scooped her up into his arms, and YN squealed-laughing the entire way into the open kitchen, where the Strange sat her on top of the kitchen island. The delicious smell of her favorite food and restaurant wafted through the air, and she took a deep breath without feeling the urge to cough her lungs out. "You seriously drove through the entire city to get me Don Angie's?"

Usually, the expensive Italian restaurant located in Greenwich Village didn't do take-out, but for a selected group of people - people with the right numbers on their checks - they tend to loosen their rules. But well, this very household had a reservation minimum once a month, so they probably were already considered family.

Stephen smiled at the joy he brought into his girlfriend's eyes and started to unpack the containers full of food and dessert. "For you, darling? Always." Scooting over the marble countertop, YN grabbed Stephen's wrist to pull him between her sweatpants-clad legs - his sweatpants, to be precise - and cupped his handsome face with both hands. Her nose softly brushed against his, and Stephen sighed, letting his eyes fall shut and leaning his forehead against hers. "Can I marry you? Will you marry me?" Her question was nothing but a soft whisper, and he had to tear open his eyes to stare into her face, with that knowing smile he almost dreaded to see in such a context. "You really thought it would be a great idea to hide it here when I have almost the whole day to myself?"

He seriously didn't think about that before he took the black velvety box out of his locker because he only had thought about the practicability of it staying at their apartment. He wouldn't have to drive to the hospital to get it if he would've decided to propose to YN spontaneously. And now, he had ruined the surprise with his own hands.

Great.

Scrunching up his face, Stephen groaned and let his forehead sink back against hers as he felt both of her hands carding through his hair again, trying to soothe him. "I didn't open it if that takes something off that disappointment, love," YN whispered and kissed the corner of his mouth. "You didn't?" He had to be sure that at least something of that surprise was still viable. Her head shake was answer enough, and he took a deep breath. "Well, it wasn't a total surprise, now, was it? I think the direction this relationship took off after we moved in together was almost painfully clear or is it just me?"

Maybe it was all in his head, and YN never had the intention to settle down with him, being the smartest couple in medicine, maybe starting a family, growing old together. Maybe it was all just his silly little idea, but never hers.

YN sighed softly at the look on his face, and she could almost feel his spiraling thoughts running havoc inside his overthinking mind. That's why she took his chin between her fingers and forced him to open his eyes again. "It's not only in your head, Stephen. It never was. We may have never talked about it in detail, but the allusion was always there. Our conversation about looking for something more... comfortable, less statement? I would have never brought up the topic of this-", she pointed from her to him, "-wouldn't be a one-way ticket for me. And it is a one-way ticket because I don't need a return ticket. Kids, pets, a life just with the two of us - I don't care as long as you're in it, Stephen Vincent Strange."

He needed to blink in order to keep those foolish tears at bay. Instead, he dove for a deep kiss, so full of love, respect, and adoration that it almost blew his mind.

"You’ll get a proper proposal, darling," he promised, lips still connected and words muffled by it, but YN understood him clear as day. "I hope so because you're the overachiever in this relationship and need to outdo Marc." Grinning at the thought of Stephen's future victorious smile, she kissed him again before squinting over to the food. "I love your kisses, but I'm hungry. Could we do dessert first? On the couch? I'd love some cuddles after five long hours without my personal doctor to fulfill every single of my needs and wishes." One last time, Stephen bent down to kiss her before opening the containers with almost every dessert on the menu and her strolling back to the couch to make space for him between all the pillows and blankets.

"I am not your butler."

But he shouted the words with a smile on his face and one thought on his mind: Life could never turn to the worst with her in it.

Thank you so much for reading! As usual: Comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated <3

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@harpywritesfic @strangeions @maenightingale @ben-er-ino @multifandomrandomgirl @lucimorningst4r @hunterofshadows04 @poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @seasonofthenerd @onecrazydirectioner @meeksmusic83

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Stephen Strange and the Vipers of Valtorr Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness (2022) dir. Sam Raimi

Comics Inspired Spells and Magical Artifacts used by Stephen Strange in Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness: - Fangs of Farallah - Eye of Agamotto - Axe of Angarruumus - Chains of Krakkan - Flames of Faltine - Talons of Farallah - Vipers of Valtorr - Rings of Raggadorr

You’re a Master of the Mystic Arts. They’re spirits. Use them.

Could you do a dom Stephen strange I don’t care about anything else as longs as it’s smut

Ooh yes, absolutelyyy, I've lowkey been thirsting over him since the new trailer came out LMAO let's goooo

Angst/Smut

Warnings: mild cursing, unprotected sex, d/s dynamic, slight breeding kink

Anyone under 18: DNI

Complain

(Not my gif)

The days had been long and painfully slow since the snap had been reversed. You had seemingly been busting your ass at work, handling more people than usual and the pressure was building up on you. It was almost as if the world was crashing in and you tried not to complain. You couldn't help that half of the world had come back and now there were needs to be met, but sometimes you wished it had been left alone. It had been easier, but who were you to complain? 

Today had been a day for you. It seemed like everyone who was working was incompetent, every customer was rude, and the systems weren't working right. By the end of the day, you were fed up and it seemed like you wore the stress of the day in your attitude and you felt the rage piling up and simmering down with each step you took towards the Sanctum, ready to drown yourself in a bath and head straight into bed.

When you opened the door, Wong was the first to greet you, regrettably. 

"Hey, y/n, I-"

"Wong. Not right now, I'm about two seconds from combustion." He took the hint gladly and nodded once, going back to his book. You stomped up the stairs and went into you and Stephen's shared bedroom, slamming the door behind you. 

Stephen, who had been in the middle of practicing a spell, was broken out of it and immediately craned his head towards the closed door, furrowing his brows. This was very unlike you, to not come in and be quiet or to not greet him in any way.

He rose up from the floor and opened the door swiftly, looking at you the way you would a child before you were about to scold them.

"Can you please not slam doors in the sanctum?"

"Oh, fuck off." The way it rolled off your tongue with such ease surprised the both of you. You stared at each other for what seemed like ages before he fully came into the room, shutting the door behind him. He came close to you and you felt your heart drop, but you couldn't take your eyes off of him. His features were soft in a way that did not comfort you but scared you and you suddenly felt that you were drowning in regret. 

"What did you just say?" 

"Nothing." 

"No." He grabbed your face and pulled you closer, your hands going to pry his off which only resulted in his grip tightening. "Say it again."

"Can you not be such an asshole right now?" 

"That's it." He suddenly had your flipped over onto his knee and he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling down your pants and panties. He ogled your flesh before bringing up his hand and bringing it down with a force that nearly knocked you out of your attitude. It would have, had you not been feeling just as stubborn as him. "You're going to tell me what's going on with you or I'm going to spank it out of you." He hit you again, a whimper coming from your lips. "Do you understand me, little girl?" 

He smacked you once more and you felt the burn tingle along your skin. "Yes, sir." He waited a few seconds, smacking you again when you didn't say anything, tears now forming in your eyes. You didn't want to complain about the day, you didn't want to dwell, but with each hit, you felt yourself slipping into sub space and all you wanted was for your dom to make it all better. Stephen continued to smack your bottom, your tears spilling over as you cried out. 

"Are you ready to talk, little girl?"

"I'm sorry, sir," you cried, no longer caring about sounding ungrateful. "Work was so hard and it seemed like nothing was going right and I'm just so tired." He listened to you, resting his hand on your flesh as he rubbed it softly. He understood. He had seen just how hard you had been working, how it seemed you never truly complained about your hardships in the outside world. He listened to you finally weep, releasing everything you had kept inside and smiled softly.

"Thank you for telling me." 

"I'm sorry for being so mean today. You didn't deserve that. And I- oh." You were so caught up in your sniffling and apologies that you didn't take the time to realize that Stephen's hand had been moving down to your folds, playing with them for a moment before plunging into your hole, eliciting a soft moan from you.

"I think what my sweet girl needs is some release, wouldn't you agree?" You nodded and whimpered and he pulled his fingers from you swiftly, a desperate whine leaving your lips. "I said, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir." 

"Good girl." He plunged his fingers back into you, pumping them in and out while you clawed at his pant leg, arching your back for him. You couldn't help the way he made you feel so warm, so forgetful of the day. He smirked at the reaction you had and pulled out of you once more, smacking your ass when you whined. "Be patient."

"Yes, sir." He made you sit up and brought you to your knees in front of him and your hands immediately went to his waist, unbuttoning his pants as you pulled them down, pulling out his hard cock. Your thumb went over a drop of precum and your mouth found its way around his member, sucking as you kept your eyes on him. 

"You are such a good girl," he moaned, his hand finding its way to your head, pushing you down further. You moved up from the base of his shaft with your mouth as you moved in a rhythm, his groans motivating you. There was nothing you loved more than being at his mercy, pleasuring him in this way. His cock twitched and he pulled you off of him, grabbing you, to make you lie flat on the ground as he climbed on top of you, lifting your leg up so that he could sink into your wet hole, your head leaning back as you moaned. 

Stephen smirked at how easy it was to bring you pleasure and he kissed you softly before ramming into you, each thrust bringing you closer to your high. He grunted, his teeth finding your neck and biting down slightly as he pinned your arms above your head, your legs beginning to shake.

"Please, sir, can I cum?" 

"Yes, baby. Cum for me," he groaned, unlocking the key to your ecstasy. You felt the pressure that had been building up finally released around him and he couldn't help but to follow after you, filling you up. He slowly pulled from you and kissed you again, lifting you from the floor as he brought you into the bathroom. "Bath and then dinner and movie tonight?"

"Wine, too?" He chuckled at your question, kissing your forehead.

"Yes, baby. Wine, too."

Hands on the window

18+ MINORS DNI!!

Pairing: Surgeon!Stephen Strange x Fem!Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I did!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You whimpered loudly then begged “Please!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you murmured against his lips “Sounds heavenly.”

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

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Daddy's Sweet Girl

Pairing: Sinister!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Y/n is always ready to please her daddy whenever he needs it and Stephen knows and loves that about her.

Word Count: 3,2k

Warnings: SMUT: male domination, masturbation, oral sex with male receiving, deep throat, umprotected p n v sex, cum eating, creampie, hair pulling. Strong daddy kink, stockholm syndrome (?)

A/N: I so missed writing for Sinister. Hope you guys like this one. Have a nice reading!

Stephen woke up in the middle of the night feeling hot, his body was sweaty under the heavy blankets. He ran his hands over his face, sighing heavily and turned to look at you. You slept soundly beside him, your naked body radiating warmth.

He was silent watching you, hearing the soft sound of your breathing, the way your chest moved up and down in a gentle rhythm, your hair spread out on the pillow smelling of your shampoo. Stephen sometimes needed to look at you like he was doing now to believe you were real. He'd waited for you for so long and now he found it hard to believe you were there in that dark and destroyed universe with him.

In a lifeless world, you were all the life Stephen needed and he loved you so much his chest hurt. And his body loved you as much or even more.

Stephen spent years alone in that universe before you, and sex was a distant memory, but since you arrived it was all he could think about. When you finally slept together for the first time Stephen understood that everything he had gone through before had been worth it if the reward was having you to worship and love. You were his everything and he couldn't even feel remorse for having destroyed the entire universe in his search for you. You made it all worthwhile.

Stephen turned to get closer to you, he brought his nose to your hair and inhaled deeply, delighting in your scent and feeling his body reacting to it the way it always did. His cock had been hard since he'd woken up, but with your smell it throbbed insistently. That seemed to be the problem with Stephen, he always wanted to make love to you. Always literally meaning all the time and sometimes he worried that it would bother you, that you would see him as a pervert or something like that.

He always tried to control his impulses as much as he could, he always tried to distract himself by thinking about something else, stepping away from you and doing something to take the dirty thoughts out of his mind and when that wasn't enough he ended up masturbating. Anything to stop him from looking after you in the middle of the day, but it didn't always work and when it didn't he had no choice but to surrender to his body's needs and make love to you. God, Stephen loved make love to you. The feeling of being inside you was something that never ceased to amaze him.

Stephen felt his cock throbbing again, his thoughts doing nothing to help in his case. Knowing fully well that there was no way he could go back to sleep like that, he let out an irritated groan and got up walking to the bathroom.

He closed the door and leaned with one hand flat on the wall and with the other began to stroke his cock lightly. That was the only way he had to easy his needs without waking you up.

He let his mind get lost on you. First in the way you smiled at him, then in the way your cheeks turned pink when he started to caress your breasts. The way your body shivered under his touch and how wet you always were when he touched between your legs.

Stephen let out a moan, his head lolling between his shoulders, precum started to leak from his tip.

He spat into his palm and went back to pump his cock with much more vigor. Visions of your bare body right behind his closed eyes. The way you caressed your breasts to tease him, the curve of your waist where he put his hands to move you as he wanted when you asked to ride him. Your round, luscious ass where he loved to leave red handprints.

"Fuck" Stephen breathed feeling his body respond to all the images his photographic memory played before his eyes like a movie. He could feel that he was close, a little bit more and he would be falling over the edge towards his climax and hopefully with that he could go back to sleep.

He thought of your moans, the way they always started soft and shy and escalated to screams of pleasure and satisfaction. He thought about your mouth always open for him to put his tongue, his dick, his fingers and how good you were in sucked them, how you always sucked him without any shame reveling in the pleasure of giving him pleasure.

Stephen finally allowed himself to think of the warmth of your wet pussy enveloping his cock, your walls fluttering around him, clenching and squeezing him as your pleasure built. He was definitely the happiest man in the world when he was between your legs.

He focused on remember of your pleadings, the dirty words that escaped your mouth when you were on the verge of your orgasm. How you praised his cock, how you begged for more, how you begged him to let you cum and when you finally got there, the way your pussy clenched even more almost choking his cock and dragging him to climax with you.

"Oh fuck" Stephen came. Ropes of cum spurting from his cock head splashing on the wall, dripping on the floor. He kept pumping hoping his cock would soften and he could finally go back to sleep, but it didn't. He was still as hard as before and usually that was a source of pride for him, but that night it made him angry.

He gave up trying to get some relief. The thoughts he'd conjured up to help him now kept playing in his mind, only serving to make him even more desperated. He needed you. So bad.

Stephen sighed and went to the sink and quickly cleaned himself up. With a quick flick of his fingers he got rid of any trace of cum and then allowed himself to look at his reflection in the mirror. He was sweaty, his hair was disheveled, there were far more gray hair at his temples than he would have liked, now they were starting to migrate to other areas of his head as well, even his goatee was turning gray. He felt old, especially when he compared himself to you, but at the same time he liked it. The age gap between you was a strong turn on to him. He liked the way you seemed small and innocent compared to him.

Stephen was dirty and he didn't care as much as he should. How could he when you loved calling him daddy while he fucked you and he couldn't deny how much that turned him on. The mere thought made his cock throb as if he hadn't just cum two minutes ago.

No, being an old man with all that stamina was definitely not something Stephen could complain about.

He came out of the bathroom and snapped his fingers lighting the candles to illuminate the dark room. You were sleeping on your stomach now, your messy hair covering your face, the blankets pushed down to your feet leaving your naked body on display for him to look at. If he hadn't already decided that he was going to wake you up, that sure would have made up his mind.

He lay down beside you and brushed your hair from your face. He placed a light kiss on your cheek and then raised his lips to your ear.

"Kitten..." He called softly, but it was enough for you to move even though you were still asleep. He lightly bit your earlobe and rubbed his goatee purposely on your neck making your skin prickle. A mischievous smile played on his lips.

He ran his hand down your back, his fingers tracing the skin lightly. He kissed your shoulder and grabbed your ass cheek, squeezing it. You let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand over your face and turned to look at him. The confused and sleepy gaze you gave him was more than enough to make his cock pulse.

"Stephen... why are you awake?" You asked in a sleepy husky voice.

'I'm sorry for waking you, love..." He whispered in your ear.

You frowned and cupped his face. "What's wrong?"

He smiled reassuringly "I just need you." He took your hand and directed it to his cock and immediately saw the realization on your face. You bit your bottom lip but said nothing.

"I tried to take care of it by myself but it didn't work." He admitted and you smiled reassuringly.

"Tell me what you need." You said wrapping your hand around his cock making it throb in your hand.

"Everything. Your hands, your mouth, your pussy..."

You sat on the bed and cupped his cheek kissing him softly while your hand kept stroking him slowly. "Then get comfortable and let me take care of you."

He sighed leaning against the headboard. You gave him a sweet smile and got up on your hands and knees, making sure to stick your ass out so he could get a good look at it. You pumped his cock slowly, too slowly, provoking him and Stephen didn't like to be provoked. He slapped your ass cheek making you gasp.

"Don't tease me, kitten." He warned raising his eyebrow and you nodded obediently. You spat on his cock and started to pump him fast and hard and then put it in your mouth as he rested his head on the headboard and allowed himself to close his eyes, indulging in the moment.

You were so good at it. He still remembered the first time you gave him a blowjob, how insecure you were. Your mouth could barely take his head.

Now that you had learned how to do it, you could take it whole if you wanted to, but you were taking your time, bobbing your head only halfway up the length of it, flicking your tongue in his frenulum every time you got up, sucking on his tip hard then going down again each time taking more of him, your hand holding him tight at the base.

"Oh yes, sweet girl, it feels so good." Stephen grabbed your hair, combing it with his fingers to get it out of your face and pulling it back into a makeshift ponytail. He enjoyed watching you go down on him, the image of your spit running down his length as his cock moved in and out of your mouth with an obscene noise was delicious adding even more to his pleasure.

Unable to contain himself, he forced your head down so that you could take all of it. You complied like the good girl you were, swallowing it down until Stephen could feel the back of your throat. He held you there for a few seconds, the grip of your hand on his thigh tightened and you tried to wriggle free of his hand on your head, but he just tsked.

"It's okay, kitten. Breathe through your nose and just take it. Your throat feels so good." Stephen's voice was broken by moans of pleasure that he didn't even try to contain. He loved it when you fought him, even if slightly, and he didn't care what that said about him.

He didn't let go of your hair when he released the pressure on your head, but he did let you take his cock out of your mouth. You coughed, there were tears running down your face, saliva running down his length, a thread of it connecting your bottom lip to the tip of his cock. An image so delicious it made his dick throb.

"That's right little girl, you take it so well." He praised, pulling you by the hair to kiss you.

He caressed your face with his other hand. "Open your mouth for me." He demanded and when you obeyed he stuck two fingers in your mouth going all the way to the bottom making you gag. A puddle of saliva forming in your mouth and running down your chin.

"I want to fuck your mouth some more. Can you take it?"

You nodded vehemently making Stephen smile. That was the thing he loved most about you: no matter what he did to you, you enjoyed it.

He leaned back against the headboard and pushed your head obliging you to take him back in your mouth again. This time, however, he wasn't content to just receive it, he started to thrust up making you choke and grip his thighs, your nails digging into his skin and adding even more to his pleasure.

"You can take it. Breathe through your nose." He instructed. "Gonna cum inside your mouth, kitten and you're going to swallow all of it. Do you hear me?"

You just hummed yes once it was impossible for you to answer with your mouth stuffed with his cock.

"Such a sweet girl letting me fuck your throat like that. Gonna take all my cum, uh?"

Stephen could feel his balls tightening, his cock throbbing and the feeling running down his spine like an electric current. It was strong and he just surrendered to the feeling, letting it explode in ropes of warm cum in your mouth.

"Oh fuck... take it." He grunted. His voice sounding almost animalistic.

When he let go of your head you wiped the corners of your mouth with your fingers and glanced at him seeming slightly lost, but you smiled at him anyway. How sweet.

"Come here, give me a kiss." He demanded, kissing you passionately, tasting himself in your mouth. You let out a little moan in his lips and broke the kiss cupping his face and then tugged at his goatee teasing him.

“I love the way you fuck my mouth.” You admitted

He held you by the back of your neck and pulled you back to his lips and in one swift movement he had you underneath him, back on the mattress, your legs parting so he could fit between them. His lips never left yours.

He took his fingers to his mouth and brought the saliva to his cock directing it at your entrance. Impatient as you were to have him, you lifted your hips to meet him and he entered you with one hard thrust, but he stayed still reveling in the sensation of being inside you, feeling your walls stretching to accommodate him.

"Stephen... move." You purred.

Stephen cupped your face making you look into his eyes, moving his hips against yours, thrusting very slowly and loving seeing the expressions of pleasure on your face, your mouth half open, tears gathering in your waterlines, your brow furrowed as if you was too focused on him and the pleasure he was giving you.

"Tell me how you want me to fuck you. Like this or faster?" He teased.

"F-Faster." You answered between soft moans. "I like it fast and hard."

Stephen's cock throbbed violently inside you at those words. He took his cock almost completely out of you and then entered you again with a hard thrust that made you gasp. He did it again and again and then kept up the pace you wanted to draw loud moans from your lips.

"Yes, yes, harder Stephen, please, fuck me harder..." You sobbed totally lost in your own pleasure. It was such a sight to see, but he didn’t listen to you, he stopped instead and grabbed your chin making you look at him "My sweet girl, what have I done to you?"

You looked at him confused and he bit your chin teasing you "You've changed."

You gave him your most beautiful and innocent smile. "For the better?"

He smirked. Definitely your transformation had been for the better, at least in his eyes. You were just a scared kitten when he brought you into that universe, so pure and innocent. Now he had turned you into a woman and a woman who liked hard sex. It was quite a change, however he still saw you as the scared kitten who climbed onto his bed in the middle of the night for fear of a thunderstorm and this image he had of you was so precious to him. Stephen didn’t want you to change that.

"Yes, but I need to know that you're still my sweet girl." He confessed.

You smiled pulling him to your lips. "Yes. Yes, daddy." You whispered in his lips. "I'll always be your sweet girl."

He tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear affectionately and then pulled out and slapped your thigh. "Turn around."

You obeyed, lying on your stomach. He grabbed both your legs and closed them. "Cross your feet, keep your legs closed for daddy, okay?" He instructed.

You did as he said and he laid on top of you directing his cock at your entrance. "Pussy is going to feel very tight now." He said right in your ear letting out little grunts and groans while entering you. You felt so fucking good, so warm and so wet for him.

You grabbed his pillow and brought it to your mouth, biting it and muffling your moans with it.

"Feels so good" You moaned moving your hips against his thrusts.

Stephen leaned up on one arm and grabbed a handful of your hair pushing your head against the mattress as he fucked you so hard the headboard hit the wall.

"Is that how you like it, huh?" He groaned right into your ear and was delighted to see your skin prickle.

"Yes, just like that. S-So fucking big..."

“Cock is too big for you, kitten?” He teased. Stephen could feel your pussy fluttering around his cock. You felt so tight in that position, choking his cock and making him feel so good. You two were on the edge, all that was needed was a push for both of you to fall.

"F-Fuck daddy, gonna make me cum." You whimpered and he bit your earlobe.

"Yeah? That good? Cum for me then, kitten. Make daddy proud."

Stephen let go of your hair and brushed it to the side exposing your skin for him. He kissed the back of your neck, making sure to rub his goatee there making your skin prickle and as he knew it would happen you came with that. You screamed his name and then muffled your screams into the pillow. Your legs shook beneath him, Your pussy clenched around him, squeezing his cock and pushing him toward his climax as well.

Stephen buried his face in your neck letting the feeling of euphoria wash over him, but he continued to thrust into you, pushing his warm cum as deep as possible inside you and prolonging the pleasure as long as he could. He finished with a groan and rolled onto his side when he was done.

You propped yourself up on your elbow so you could look at him, feet crossed and dangling in the air provocatively, a mischievous smile on your lips. You were sure as dirty as you were sweet, but most importantly, you were his.

"This was... intense." You praised.

Stephen touched your face and then held out his arm for you to snuggle. You complied, curling up in his arms and laying your head on his shoulder. You stayed quite for a minute then tilted your head to look at him. “You know you can wake me up to make love anytime you want, right?”

He allowed himself a satisfied sigh “I know.” He caressed your cheek with his trembling hand “I love you, Y/n. You are and always will be my sweet little girl."

You tugged on his goatee smiling and teasing him "And you will always be my daddy."

He smiled satisfied feeling his body finally relax now that he gave in to his needs.

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Hii!! How are u? 🥰

Could you write something with the prompts 7.“how mad would you be if i kissed you?” and 2.“my lipgloss is all over your lips.” from the fluff list with Stephen pls

Fates Embrace

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Pairing: Sinister Strange x FemReader

Summary: Your sick at the Sanctum and Stephen being poor with words tries to comfort you in his own special way leading to a much greater surprise.

•Im slowly chipping away at my requests and this one was so long overdue. I really tried keeping it fluff but i couldn’t help myself. There were many directions that this fic could have taken but I hope you love it. The story was inspired by Harry Styles and you can find the song on my Sinister Playlist•

“Sinister was fully convinced that if you tasted half as divine as the forbidden fruit of Eve, then he absolutely understood her succumb to the surrender of temptation”

You had been nauseous for days, and no amount of rest seemed to make it better. With a shaking hand, you reached for the bed pan, the cool porcelain a welcome contrast to your already warm skin. Setting the bed pan on the floor, you groaned, wiping the leftover vomit from your cheek. Yep you definitely were sick no doubt. Despite having everything you needed from herbal tea to nausea medication, Sinister still paced the room in a worry for your health; you are his world after all.

Leaning against the foot of the bed Sinister pawed the comforter on the four poster bed, “are you sure there's nothing else I can do for you my love,” eyeing you like a hawk he was seeking your gaze making sure you were not just playing the hero. Stephen could always see right through your poker face. Letting out a small hum you smiled reassuring him, “Babe relax, it's just a little bug. You as a doctor even said it's more than likely a common cold, trust me I will be fine in a few days.”

Sinisters chilled hands slowly slithered from the warmth of the blankets, searching for your feet, which were hidden under the many layers of blankets, “Yes yes I know my pet, it's just that I can’t help but worry for you so,” his grip tightened more around your ankles as if you would disappear like smoke. Sinister had always felt alone in the world, and he had never expected to find someone who could make him feel so connected and loved. He had believed that he could never be happy, but you knew deep down that Sinister was willing to do anything to keep you in his life. The thought of losing you was unbearable to him, and it felt like his own personal hell.

Seeing the worry laced in his eyes you shot him a comforting smile,“Stephen, trust me I'm not going anywhere. You know i'm with you forever in this life,” extending your arms outwards beckoning him to join you. Sinister for a second was taken aback; feeling a sudden warmth spread over him he couldn't help but grin, his heart swelled with your irrevocable love so much that he could burst. Letting out a soft contented sigh he couldn't help but feel unbrimmed joy for being so wanted by such a divine woman. For how could he say no to his queen, the very person he would sacrifice his own life for.

Kicking off the heavy boots they made a slight thump against the wooden floorboards as your husband manifested a beautiful purple indigo smoke. The smoke cascading around him as he opted to change into his comfiest pair of dark purple pajamas leaving you in awe. You have been with him for years and even doing basic things, Sinister was the pure definition of elegance and it bever failed to leave you breathless. Feeling the weight of his form shift on the mattress, Sinister slowly made his way across the burgundy comforter. He snuggled close to you, wrapping himself in the warmth of the covers sighing contentedly.

Sinisters scarred hands reached over to gently cup your jaw placing a delicate kiss to your forehead. He nuzzled his nose against yours adding softly, “…In this life. And the next my love. For I have crossed oceans of time to find you and I will never lose you,” his finger traced your cheek softly as his blue eyes searched yours, the sentiment making you blush a deeper red. Placing a hand above his you leaned in to his touch, batting your lashes softly you couldn't help but melt into his eyes that reflected your very own.

“And you'll always have me, Stephen Strange,” breathing in his scent you closed your eyes, “For my heart and soul are yours and yours alone,” breaking the gap Sinister leaned into your lips. The sudden connection made you moan as he traced your lower lip with his tongue tasting your skin. It was so hypnotic, so mesmerizing that you suddenly snapped back to reality pulling away not wanting him to catch your cold. Feeling your resistance his strong hands only pulled you flush to his chest.

“Babe, don’t! You'll catch whatever I got,” you protested. Sinister couldn't help but chuckle at your declaration.

“Darling, I'm a man with the power of gods. It will take more than a cold to stop me from adoring you”, feeling the brush of his goatee against your delicate earlobe. His lips were so close to yours that you could feel his heat radiating from them. His lips ghosted your collarbone, his breath sweet and warm as he continued to ghost across your soft skin, sending a shiver of pleasure through your body and a fire of desire awakening in your core. Cocking his head to the side Sinister gently pinched your chin between his thumb and forefinger, eyes laced with mischief he had a better idea in mind.

“How mad would you be if I kissed that beautiful mouth of yours?” He smirked, taking note of your sudden tight grip on the crimson sheets. Hes such a fucking tease…

Pulling away once more in an attempt to resist, you looked into his eyes and you could clearly tell that all your husband wanted to do was to be there to make you feel good no matter what. “I dunno,” biting your lip you smirked, “why not find out.” The familiar feeling of his hands slithered against the back of your neck as he pulled you in slowly, kissing you once more he tasted the sweetness of your lips. The essence of strawberries sticking to his mind imprinted on his eidetic memory forever. He wanted to drown in you for the rest of his days. You both pulled away chuckling like a couple of school kids as his hands sought your face tracing your jawline, his breath welcoming against your soft delicate flesh.

“Delicious,” he cooed, giving your lower lip a gentle nip.

Damn him…

Sinister always brought you great joy even on days you were not at your best, times when you were sure he would leave after seeing your unsavory sides. You knew that deep down he would walk through fire for you, proving all too well his devotion time and time again leaving you with no doubts. Sinisters hands trailed down your curves resting at the slope of your hips guiding you to his lap. You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his once more as his hands traced your thighs gripping them firmly. Pulling away to look into your eyes he smiled brushing your cheek with unbridled admiration.

“I love you y/n,” he proclaimed, palms giving a slight tremble, “you know that right?”

Your heart swelled at the profession of his words only for them to taper, it broke your heart knowing he was alone for so long and yet still felt uncertainty about your devotion. Years if self loathing convinced him that his blackened heart was too difficult to bear, that he was a burden and needed to hide from the light forever. But here you are loving it through all the dirt to bare something of a diamond underneath the crevice of his newly alivened heart.

Heart racing you leaned in kissing him deeper, showing him how much he truly means to you. His moans drowning all thought as you pulled away looking him in the eyes. “And I love you Stephen Strange. I always have,” nibbling his earlobe in return you felt his grip tighten. You were sure there would be mark’s later no doubt, but in the moment you couldn’t care less. He growled pulling you in for another kiss, taking note of your nightgown riding up your thighs he smirked suddenly flipping you to once more your backside.

“Stephen!” You cried feeling him slither down between your thighs taking note of what's below. Or lack thereof.

“Hmm no panties?” His eyes suddenly turning dark and piercing it shot right to your center causing you to involuntarily rock your hips against his goatee.

“Mmm ya,” giving a teasing smile, “Didn't feel like it,” flashing him a cheeky wink it only spurred him on more to dig into your needy heat inhaling your arousal.

“You naughty girl,” his voice laced with a husky desire as you felt the welcoming sensation of his fingers slipping deeper into your thighs. His fingers gliding between the folds of your heat as his thumb traced circles around your clit.

“Always so wet for me my pet,” slipping two fingers inside he watched as your body writhed against his touch, “and my cock isnt even inside you yet,” he teased, pumping his digits at a steady pace. Sinister watched in awe as he felt your pussy clamp down like a vice around his fingers.

“You're such a good girl. Do you know that? Do you know how beautiful you look coming undone by my hands?” His eyes glowed under the light as he watched on, your legs trembling. He felt them spread wider, practically welcoming him to feast upon you. You get off on the praise, and he knows it all too well. Your body arched and pebbled against his touch as if you were fabricated just for him. Your reaction alone was enough to make his stiffened cock ache between his trousers. The only thoughts going through his mind were mine mine mine…like a sacred prayer only for you.

“I adore you. Your absolutely beautiful,” he purred, pressing his face into you deeper he traced his tongue over your wet folds making you moan deeper only urging him to need more. Sinister wanted to drown in your essence for this was his paradise and his alone, you locked around him wanting to be entangled in this state for eternity. Swirling your clit in a figure eight his mouth continued its assault as he felt your climax grip around his digits, you were close and nothing felt more sweeter or divine than this very moment. You moaning for him and only him alone. Your fingers laced through his ravenous strands pushing him deeper as his hands reached up, ripping the straps off your gown to expose your perfect bare breast on display. His hands immediately seeking your exposed nipples, giving them a gentle twist. It was just enough to send you over the edge as his right hand continued pumping in and out of your throbbing cunt claiming him only tighter.

Sinister takinging in the staggered rise and fall of your breath he placed his hand on the flat of your stomach in an attempt to steady yourself. For a moment he felt something…a heartbeat. But it…it can't be? His heart fluttered and flipped all at once with the sudden possible realization but there was something more pressing that demanded his attention and that was you.

“Ste-Stephen I’m gonna!”

The echo of your pleasured moans suddenly snapping him back to reality. This is the only thing he ever wants to do, be lost in you. Devoting every waking moment to your pleasure.

“That's it! That's my girl,” His thumb pressing firm circles on your clit as his lips traced yours, “your so beautiful when you come”

Your mouth shot open in a silent scream as you arched off the mattress, your heat riding his digits as he finger fucked you through your orgasm. The curling of his hand making you see stars, he truly did have magic hands in more ways than one.

Sinisters mind suddenly shot to the thought of what he felt in the base of your tummy. Tracing his palm over his chest he instinctively placed the other over your lower tummy, your elbows propped you up as your heart fluttered when you casted your gaze upon your husband.

“Stephen? What's wrong?” You asked with bated breath.

“Nothing my love,” he spoke with promise, his gaze still fixated on your belly, “hold on and let me see here”

At first the sensation was warm as if being cloaked by a blanket fresh from the dryer. A soft purple glow emitted from your abdomen as you both witnessed what was clearly a little baby in your belly no more than 10 weeks. The motions of its little arms made tears form in your eyes. You couldn't believe it, and neither could Sinister but here you are in fact pregnant.

You traced his features taking note of his reaction, noticing the swell of tears in his eyes he sniffled looking up at you, “And I thought I've seen everything,” you brushed a stray strang away from his forehead; he couldn't help but grin wide.

Come to think of it It's not like safe sex was a part of your repertoire. You both were more shocked it just took this long to finally happen.

“You're not upset, are you Stephen?” Your heart filled with sudden rising dread at the silly question. The seconds felt like minutes as you waited on for your husband's answer.

Eyes widened he practically leapt forward his hands sought yours as he paused just a fraction from your lips. You couldn't help but feel the sudden thrill of it, his unbridled excitement and joy seemed to penetrate every cell of your body. The comfort of his large hands made you lean into his touch, you took a breath as he craned his neck down ensuring you met his gaze. The calm timber of his voice was slow and smooth like the sweetest of chocolate and all you wanted was to melt into him.

“Heavens no my sweet angel. I am beyond thrilled. For you have given me all the more reason for being alive, and I couldn't possibly love you more than in this moment.”

Hearing the soft sniffles he leaned forward nuzzling foreheads peppering you with kisses that spoke of promise, you just couldn't believe that you are with child. Instinctively you couldn't help but draw his palm forward over your bare belly once more, the soft purple glow emitting from his palm glowed once more revealing the miracle underneath leading Sinister to smile.

“So much for you being sick,” he chuckled, kissing you once more. Rubbing your belly softly you placed a hand above his, joining the three of you in unison.

“Seems like the doctor is getting a little rusty with diagnosing,” you teased, feeling him give a playful yet gentle shove so as to not hurt you or the baby.

You smiled leaning in, nestling your face against his. “Oh hush now kiss me once more”

For a moment, all was still and peaceful and you never wanted it to end. Wrapping his arms around your waist you took in the warmth and familiarity of him. With a contented sigh, he whispered, "I love you."

Tears rolled down your cheek as his thumb took the liberty of wiping them away gently. Your lips sought his as you mended once more into each other like the sand meets the sea. You've kissed many times but yet somehow it feels like your millionth and first all wrapped up in one. Sinister was fully convinced that if you tasted half as divine as the forbidden fruit of Eve, then he absolutely understood her succumb to the surrender of temptation. For nothing ever tasted so sweet.

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