Donât You Know, Youâre Life Itself
A/N: This is an excerpt of a lil fic Ive been rolling around in my empty brain since I watched MoM. My attention has been divided with other ideas i'm working on ;) so it might take a little time to roll this whole one out. This is only a part (and in fact this is the middle) of what Iâve written, so stay tuned! Thereâs no beta reader (i dont have one sorry), so my apologies if there are mistakes. As always Iâm appreciative of any comments or feedback, this is the first fic ive written in⌠*checks non-existent watch* a few years, so im rusty to say the least!
Pairing: Sinister!Strange x F!Reader with Powers
Warnings/Tags: Light spoilers for DS MoM, Obsession, Stalker, Manipulation, Porn with Plot, Dub-Con Elements, Biting, Fighting, Choking, Mentions of Blood, Manipulation, Rough Sex, Allusions to Abandonment and Family Issues, Identity Crisis Issues, Dark!Possessive!Sinister Strange, that's really a warning within itself
*Iâm VERY bad with tags, so if I miss something, pls tell me*
Word count: 3.5k+ (unfinished)
Synopsis: You go to Sinister!Stephen Strange for help with your powers, against your better judgment. He is all the more happy to oblige you in your time of need. Deep down you know you shouldnât trust him, nor do you know why he's so eager to help. But you have no one else to turn to, and his charming smile puts you at ease⌠too bad it's all for show.
EXCERPT BEGINS BELOW
âAh, I see,â he enthusiastically quipped, stepping towards the giant eye-shaped window, silver brushed back at his temples glimmering, looking out into the foggy distance. âAnd what exactly is your power?â
He stole a glance at you through squinted eyes. Your stomach fluttered at catching his look but you held your ground. You had the slightest feeling he was putting you on, feigning intrigue while asking questions and offering off-color (but endearing) one-liners.
âCommon, god-damned sense.â You remarked in a low voice. It came out in more of a sarcastic tone than you had anticipated, but you rolled off of it. Allowed the words that hung in the thick air to give you a purchase for confidence.
His shoulders came up in a tense movement, craning his head toward you and he breathed out,
âThatâs a good one.â
He flashed you an incredulous smile. The smile that unabashedly bared his teeth and pulled against his face like he was going to crack; admittedly, it was damn charming. Despite you being stuck between feeling untrustworthy of him and the dread in your bones while being in his presence; you couldnât deny how hauntingly attractive the man before you was.
He then slowly shook his head, and light blue eyes pierced through you, cool anticipation trailing down your spine like cold fingers.
He continued, âThough, I donât think thatâs the whole truth, now is it?â He searched your face as he sauntered closer towards the table and clasped his hands behind him.
Deep down you felt the familiar twinge of the guilt you had tried so hard to bury, but all it ever did was resurface like corrosive bile. All you ever wanted was to be honest and open with people. You didnât enjoy having to keep secrets or lying to those you loved, but it was the only way to protect them. And look where that got you. No where, with nobody else. You couldnât win and it just didnât seem fair. You always struggled to be true to yourself, always wound up caught between being who you were and what you had to be. You didnât even know who you wanted to be anymore. Everything you felt was so conflicted, and it never got easier as the years went by. Maybe you were meant to be alone. The stinging lump in your throat felt harder to swallow.
He dropped his smile as he caught on to how saddened you became. His eyes cut away to the document laying on the table you had brought with you. He picked it up and studied it shortly, his eyes coming back to you. Written in your own handwriting, you had detailed your consent of allowing Stephen Strange to do anything he could to strip you of your powers. Included in the flurry of statements you scrawled how even if it resulted in your death, you would rather suffer greatly than ever hurt someone else again.
âI- I just dont know, sir. A lot of things, I mean. Not just this.â You lifted your hands before dropping them, too ashamed to watch how they shook. He opened his mouth and you winced, mouthing an apology when you remembered that he didnât want you to call him that. He nodded, offered you the paper and conjured a pen, and without second thought you scribbled out your full name under his; per his instructions.
You didn't understand what your powers were, but if they drove those you loved away, why have them? Your stomach was in knots, he didnât fully explain what would happen next, but a part of you couldnât care less.
âI just want them gone.â You swallowed and twiddled with the mauve celluloid pen in your hands, admiring its weight and balance across your unsteady fingers.
âWhat a shame, you couldnât stop that scalpel.â He stated plainly as he watched you fidget, mumbling something you couldnât hear and the pen flicked of existence. A pleased smile tugged at his lips as he peered down at the signed document.
âWait. What did you say?â You asked. How did he know about that? Everything was moving too fast. It might have been just your blurry, tired mind but there were still so many questions you wanted answers to, answers you knew he had. He seemed too content with luring you in with questions but never offering a conclusion.
The piano separating the two of you slid away. Candles of different sizes scattering the room began to slide forward and the air seemed to become charged like a thunderstorm was brewing. You could feel something surging from out of your bones.
âThereâs not much of anything going on in that pretty little head of yours, is there.â Stephen sneered as he approached you, wind from nowhere blowing long, swept back hairs onto his pale forehead.
âYou just signed over your life to me.â You couldn't move from where you were, and you didnât attempt to make a rebuttal. You just wanted it to be over.
âI-in some way, yes, I suppose I did.â
âThen I suppose I shall take my payment.â
âWe never did discuss that.â
âDonât worry, there won't be much discussionâŚâ
Perhaps out of your ignorance, or sleep deprivation, you rambled to fill the air; to engage despite the uneasy tension forming.
âI guess for a man like you, taking a life is easy. You mentioned earlier about how high the price could be when someone did something wrong with their power. So, how will you kill me?â
Stephen let out a low chuckle, appreciative of your curiosity and meek nature. He placed a large hand on your shoulder, rubbing your collarbone with his fingers. You knew less about him than you liked, but you allowed the contact.
A disembodied voice whispered low and cool lips matierialized against the shell of your ear. âWhat do you think you deserve?â
It was Stephenâs, for sure, but his mouth hadnât moved. You breathed in sharply and attempted to answer the loaded question, but he placated you with his other hand coming up to cradle the side of your face. Your eyes fluttered shut and you moaned softly into his warm palm, leaning into it. You didn't let people touch you anymore; it was often a lot to make a conscious effort to keep your powers in check so as not to hurt them. Though you were never a big fan of physical contact; this felt different. He really held you. Though his hands were warm, a cooling effect spread across the areas he touched and it soothed you.
This was a special moment that you didn't attempt to hide how you felt, and it was cathartic for both of you. Messy hair framed your weary face, the rest bundled into a hair clip. Your strands spilled out like a halo around your head, highlighting your resting features. You looked angelic, raw, open, breathtaking, just for him; better than heâd ever imagined. You didn't see how he slid his tongue across his teeth as he watched you intently.
Tenderly his thumb began to run small circles into your cheeks, and feeling it become damp against your skin made you open your eyes. That's when you realized you had begun to cry. His fingers slid into your hair and massaged a spot behind your ear, a chill bursting across your nerves. Your eyes closed again, and another moan came out; but this one was particularly obscene.
âOh my God, Iâm so embarrassed.â You blustered. âIâm so sorry.â Your face burned and you blinked up at him through tear-studded lashes.
Fuck, he could get used to that.
âDonât be, we all have ourâŚsensitive places.â He cooed with a wink. His pupils were dilated. Now it was your turn to let out a laugh along with an awkward, heavy sigh. You hesitated before you used a quivery hand to remove his from your face. The heat simmering in your stomach protested.
âMaybe I should go.â
You tried to ignore the crushed look on Stephenâs face as you turned away, his other hand slipping from your shoulder. You left him where he stood, his hand that cradled you still up in the air. You stepped past the table and eyed the stairs.
âI really do appreciate your trying to help me, it was really quite kind of you-â
The table flew past you and blocked the stairwell. All of the candles around the room extinguished, albeit a lone candelabra on the piano.
âTrying?â He snapped, voice breaking. You turned back, only to see empty space. He appeared behind you like a ghost, hands at your sides and his nose ghosting the crook of your neck.
âA dealâs a deal.â
âI understand, b-but I think I'm better off dealing with this alone.â
You could barely get the words out, distracted by his heated breath on your neck. You still wanted to go home, not that you knew where that would be anymore.
âYou dont believe that.â Stephen replied sickly sweet, groping roughly along your chest. You whined and attempted to pry his roaming fingers off of you; but even without using his abilities he was stronger than you.
And as demented as all of this was, he was right. Being alone was one thing. Being lonely because you couldn't even understand yourself was another. You didnât want to bear that burden anymore, you couldnât.
âWell, to be fair, you haven't done anything yet.â
He nipped at your neck, causing you to jump in his grasp. He let out a growl before whipping you around, large hands digging into your hips and pulling you against him. He waved a hand and the lit candelabra came off the piano and floated a few inches above your face, the ivory wax dripping onto the floor below.
âNever deny my power,â He spat, voice echoing across the room, his eyes ablaze in the yellow glow from the flames dancing above you. Feeling the emanating heat, you tried to wriggle free, but the candle light followed. Hot ivory fell from the candle onto your cheek and you gasped in pain, the heat lingering on your skin.
âWhat do you think I have been doing this whole time? From the moment I laid eyes on you I knew you were meant for me. Not for your family, not your friends, not your fucking boyfriend,â He grabbed your face in one hand momentarily before licking a hungry stripe from your jaw to your temple, his facial scruff dragging against your skin with a throbbing burn. âYou wasted so much of yourself on them. Youâre mine now, the way itâs supposed to be. And you had no idea how much I fought for you-â
As you broke away from his grasp you shook your head in utter disbelief. The emotions that whirled deep within confused even you. He had to be fucking crazy; he had no right to say such things about who you could belong to. He didnât even know you. You lost everything because of him.
You smacked him across the face and screamed obscenities through blearing vision. Stephen staggered to the side and hissed, his hand coming up to touch his face. Blood. He snarled and stood erect, crazed eyes draining of emotion before they frenzied again, freezing you where you stood. He rushed you, you turned away. An arm came around your head and caught your throat, trapping you.
He dragged you back against his chest for leverage then knocked you down by kicking in your calves. The more you struggled, the more you felt him laugh breathlessly against your hair. He used his other arm to undo the strings holding together the front of your dress, and you bit down on his bicep, teeth going through his garment and iron hinting at your tongue. Stephen hissed and his arm muscles tightened, crushing your windpipe. You dug your nails into his solid tricep and forearm as you fought to free yourself, your heartbeat thundering in your ears. You managed to get a leg out and kick in the side of his knee. Stephen wavered for a moment and retorted, heaving you by the waist and throwing you into the piano, the fall board banging against your midriff and sending out a discordant sound of keys into the air. Assorted sheet music fluttered onto the ground. You crumbled onto the lip as the searing pain shot through you, breath ragged as red receded from your vision.
âGod, the hardest part was that little shithead.â He panted, his words dripping with venom, âHe hung on to you like a leech, and I just wanted to crush him every time he touched you.â
Stephen lunged at you again, grabbing your hair and jerking your head back. He seized your throat and squeezed harshly, your vision going spotty.
âMy⌠powers?â You managed to interject, tears forming in your eyes as you felt consciousness start to melt away.
âOh, that was the crowning jewel,â he purred, easing his hold on your aching neck and lightly stroking back your hair. He reminisced on the way your quickened pulse had felt against him and licked his lips. âThat was all you my dear. Letâs just say, I exasperated a few things.â
You reeled from the lack of oxygen again and your eyes shut. The events of the past several months flew by like a projector slide. Your fear of hospitals, of letting your family down, of losing your job, and ruining your relationship; Strange had played on them. It was dastardly, how everything came crashing down and you could only watch as your world fell apart.
âYou lied to me.â You cried through uneven breaths, and wriggling free, grabbed hold of the side of the piano and turned to him.
âYou ruined my life!â
âIâve let you see the truth. Anyone who deserved being in your life wouldnât have left you. I did what I had to do to protect you. It was the only way.â He stared into the dancing flames and they illuminated his glassy, empty eyes. Beaded red across his cheekbone caught your eye, he didnât even seem to react to it.
What he had said pierced your heart, a part of you began to believe him. Doctor Stephen Strange, even with all his power, couldnât just make them leave; or else he would have done that from the start. This was something they all chose to do in the end. You werenât perfect, neither was your family, and your relationship with them wasnât the best; but you tried to be who they wanted you to be. And still you watched them slip away.
You saw how they arranged their lives to exclude you, missing important dates and never calling. Most of your friends distanced themselves from you after you broke the news to them that you couldnât control your powers; the others only interested in what you could do for them with the abilities. Your boyfriend, your last hope, had begun to despise you when you attempted to talk about yourself and what you needed. The incident at the hospital was just the tip of an iceberg that was already cracking. Your eyes, though weary from crying, burned. Even though you hated to admit it now, with or without Strangeâs influence, your powers might have harmed someone else, and you would have been found out anyway. You certainly had more than a few close calls.
There were so many things that you had more questions than answers for. How long had he really been pulling the strings? What did he gain in destroying your life? Was it really just to be with you? The implications of those thoughts sickened you; it was all too much to process.
âYou're insane.â You wheezed, attempting to regain your composure and you hit him in the chest with a closed fist.
He didnât budge. Usually your powers would have made more of an impact, but they were⌠gone? Maybe it was your adrenaline running out from fighting for your life. Or maybe⌠You looked at your hands in horror then back at him. He did a sign with deft hands and violet lightning whizzed out of them, your wrists bound in them and pulled them behind your back.
âI gave you what you wanted,â Stephen growled hungrily, baring teeth and icy eyes twinkling, âNow you give me what I want.â
Your eyes grew large at the insinuation and you kicked at him. Stephenâs thigh moved in between yours. He leaned in, you accidentally ground against him and yelped. You managed to twist away and he dug fingers into your ass, bringing you back onto his leg. He hissed at the decadent contact, rocking your hips ever so gently as his heated gaze met your eyes. Long dark strands fell in front of his eyes, pupils blown like black holes. It was potent, your conflicting desires swirling and smoldering within you and you swore youâd die from the heat. You felt spellbound.
Dripping wax fell onto the column of your neck and you let out a strained moan.
Stephen bellowed and you felt it resonate within you. âI didn't make you do that, now did I.â
A blush trickled across your face and down your neck and you dropped your eyes. He didnât make a snide remark then, much to your surprise; but instead brandished an amused look. He did note how pretty you looked, bound in his magic, and wanting him. You didnât deny it, no, not really; and your weak attempts at protest only spurred him on. Stephen Strange was never one to back away from a challenge.
And what a prize you were.
Not wanting to break the momentum, with a snap of his fingers your metal belt appeared in his hand and he let it clatter to the floor. The candelabra rested back onto the grand piano. You scrunched your face as he pushed the fabric aside, revealing your partially naked form. His eyes raked over your exposed body, and you couldnât bear to watch, turning your head away.
He pushed more of the dress aside, viciously dragging his nails over your knees and up your thighs. He stopped short of your heat, tracing the delicate skin of your mound before brushing against the outer folds. You gulped down a moan and closed your legs.
He put on an exaggerated pout. âOh, come on, donât try the prude lady act with me, darling. We both know how much of a whore you really are.â
Stephen went down on his knees, positioning himself in front of your shut legs.
âShow me.â
You didnât move. He delivered a harsh swat to your thigh, a purple spark zapping you and you jerked against your restraints.
He breathed in and his tone shifted. âOpen them, or I will break you.â
That crazed look entered his eyes for a moment and your blood went cold; you knew he meant exactly what he said. You didnât dare call his bluff. Despite this pernicious dilemna, the imminent dread churned the sweltering pool of arousal within you into something⌠bittersweet. It wasnât alien to you, youâd been privy to it in the time leading up to coming to the Sanctum; it growing thicker when heâd touched you, grabbed at you. Yet you ignored it, trying to deny it out of existence; but like your powers it only came back stronger.
Itâd be noticeable now, you could feel the wetness as it seeped out and dampened your inner thighs. It was all so, so wrong, but the filthy, sinful feeling was too divine to ignore.
You knew it would be over for you when Stephen saw it. And he will see it.
So, why deny yourself?
EXCERPT END
