Originally prompted by @bakerstreethound
Pairing: Doctor Fate/Kent Nelson x MReader
Rating: PG Warnings: Minor cursing
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 1,500
Plot: You rush halfway across the city to get from your dingy apartment in the heart of New York City to hopefully reach your class on time. But the universe has it in for you today because you get dizzy due to having no breakfast and slam into someone on the way there. Or does it? The man follows you into the nearby cafe and returns you textbook, but there's something very familiar about him.
Song Inspiration: Movement by Hozier
A/N: I wasn't planning to do one of this character so soon, but I saw the prompts that my friend gave me and hot damn, my brain put them all together was like "HELL YES. DOCTOR FATE. HERE WE GO". So, we do lol.
All writings belong to @multiversemusings. Do not steal, repost as your own or take credit for my work. If you have a request, please put it in my inbox!
"I could never define all that you are to me."
You were running way behind. More so even than usual. The phone call that you had received from your sister in Africa the previous night had taken up almost all of your night and not only had you failed to finish studying for your semi-finals, but you had also barely gotten any sleep. It wasn't very often you heard from her since she had become a member of the Peace Corp over a year ago now, so any chance you got to talk to her, you took without hesitation. You got to hear about how she was helping a group of children to read English, how the women of the village nearby were teaching her to weave baskets and that she was apparently developing a bit of a crush on one of the local translators. He was apparently quite a charmer and often brought her small gifts from the city to keep her comfortable. You wished you had been that lucky to find a man who took your breath away as easily as Ronald did for her, you informed, which had made her laugh. It was a wonderful sound to hear after being apart for so long. Unfortunately, university didn't stop just because you stayed up all night talking to basically the person who had been your true best friend since childhood. At half passed the hour you realized finally that the sun was shining down on your face through the cracks in your blinds. As you grabbed your cellphone from the bedside table, you realized you had slept through your primary alarm and your back up on top of that.
"Shit!" you cursed as you tossed your phone aside and all but leapt from your bed.
Your usual morning routine that would have normally lasted you a little over an hour went by in a blur of twenty minutes which meant cutting corners on thing. You took a very quick shower, just enough to clean your body and wash your hair, ignoring the burning of the scar that you had recently sustained on your arm from a car wreck. You opted to let your short hair dry by air rather than take a blow-dryer to it or style it, put on a nice pair of jeans, a white tank top and a button down over it which you left open. You put on your Cons that you had gotten from your mother as a reward for making it into Uni before you actually shipped off halfway across the country to New York from that hole in the wall you called a hometown in Washington. You packed all of your textbooks into your bag along with your supplies and grabbed your keys and wallet from the tablet inside the door before leaving out the door.
You didn't drive due to the accident you had been in, so your usual commute involved one ride on the subway, two buses and walking a block and a half to the school. You couldn't bring yourself to get behind the wheel of a vehicle again after nearly losing your life to a drunk driver and being in a coma for over a year. So everywhere you went, you took some other mode of transportation to save yourself from having to pop four or five anxiety pills just to make it through the rest of the day. But as you got off the second bus that you rode to get across the city, you were overcome with a strong wave of dizziness and had to grab onto the nearby sign to keep from collapsing. As you closed your eyes and held your forehead to stead yourself, you felt stupid for forgetting to grab at least a couple of pieces of toast before you left the apartment.
"Great job, that's the third time this month alone you've forgotten your personal health for this damn school," you scolded yourself. You groaned as the scar on your arm burned again. Once the wave passed, you corrected your bag and opened your eyes, heading off down the road. "I'm going to have to make time to get something to eat. Collapsing on the way to class would be defeating the purpose of rushing out the door."
Thankfully, you knew this area well enough by now that you were aware of a cafe not even a block from where you were that wasn't usually busy at this house, so you decided to stop in and get something to keep you from passing out. But as you rounded the second corner, your body felt like a camera shutter and you grunted as you all but collapsed forward. Your shoulder slammed into someone and jolted you back into your body as you dropped your bag, your books scattered across the ground.
"Oh my, are you alright young man?" the stranger asked with a voice rich like an expensive fabric. He steadied you and helped you kneel down as you held your head.
"Yeah, I'm alright," you replied as you lowered your hand to look at him. He was an older gentleman, with beautiful snowy white hair and a matching goatee. His eyes were the most stunning blue that you had ever seen, like a thousand untold stories the ocean had to offer. "I'm... so sorry. I'm such a klutz."
"Nonsense, you are clearly very weak from low blood sugar judging by the way you are shaking and sweating. I am fine so do not apologize. Here, let me help you gather your things."
"Thank you." Between the two of you, all of your things were gathered and put neatly back into your bag within a moment before you put it back over your shoulder and the two of you stood up.
"Will you be okay, young man? Is there a place nearby where you can get some kind of nourishment to bring your glucose back up to normal?" he asked, the worry in his voice made a pleasant tingle run down your back as he frowned.
"Yeah, South of the Broiler Cafe is just down the way, so I'm heading there. I'm still sorry for bumping into you, sir. Thank you for helping me pick up my stuff once again. Have a good day."
You nodded your head in respect before turning and finishing your short trek to the cafe, stepping in out of the damp, cold morning. The smell of coffee and morning foods filled your sense of smell and invigorated your mind just a bit to wake you up a little more. It also succeeded in reminding you that you were hungry and that's why you were here. As you stepped into line, your mind began thinking about the handsome stranger you had just run into. He was dressed in a very nice suit and wore three very expensive looking rings on his fingers, yet he had stopped and knelt to help you pick up your things. You couldn't fathom how someone like that hadn't yelled at you for running into them, let alone how they could kneel down on the damp New York sidewalk to help you pick up your books. Your mind kept going back to his eyes, their beautiful blue color, the way that they seemed to be looking right through you-
A hand tapped your shoulder gently, so you turned to look over your shoulder and - as if your thoughts had summoned him to you - found the man whom you were just thinking of standing before you. He gave you a kind smile and you couldn't deny that your face grew about three degrees warmer than the air around you, and it had absolutely nothing to do with exhaustion.
"I believe you forgot one," the man informed you with a slight chuckle. When you looked at his hand, he was holding out your textbook Chemistry in Quantitative Language.
"Oh god, I didn't even see this one," you replied as you took it from him carefully. Your eyes met his blue ones, and again, he gave you that same look that made you feel like he was looking right through you. "Uhm… Can I buy you a coffee, sir? To make up for bumping into you in my airheaded rush and for returning my textbook."
"I think I would quite like that, indeed, Anpu," he replied, and you looked taken aback by the use of your nickname that very few knew. "Apologies, I did not mean to startle you."
"Who…are you?" You knew there was something important about this man because the scar on your arm hadn't been burning since you made contact with him on the sidewalk.
The man extended his hand to you, his smile never wavering even as it took you a moment to accept it.
"My name is Kent Nelson, and I have been watching you for a very long time, my friend." He brought your hand to his lips; his well-kept goatee brushed the sensitive skin of your knuckles and goosebumps erupted all across your skin as you lost your breath. He stood up right again and his eyes sparkled with a light only worthy of a romance novel. "And it is fate we have met here today."
Originally requested by @strangelockd
Pairing: Sinister Strange x FReader
Rating: M (18+ Only)
Warnings: Mentions of abuse, violence and mental dystopia
Genre: Romance, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst
Word Count: 5,270
Plot: Sinister wakes to the sound of the incursion growing angered outside of the Sanctum, making him reflect on how he got to where he is. And how he is recovering, thanks to the beautiful woman who he has growing affection for. But when he goes to speak to her about it, he finds her asleep in a very familiar article of clothing, and the last wall of ice around his heart shatters.
Song Inspiration: See Who I Am by Within Temptation
A/N: I haven't done MxF smut in a VERY long time. But for you, my dear moonflower, I am very happy to try my hand at it once more. I truly hope that this caffeine induced creature is everything you are hoping for. Thank you for being my inspiration, this night.
All writings belong to @multiversemusings. Do not steal, repost as your own or take credit for my work. If you have a request, please put it in my inbox!
"Come into my world: See through my eyes."
The rumbling woke him up.
Not that he slept very deeply ever anyhow, not since the world had begun to rip itself into shreds what felt like eons ago now. He turned his head to look out the remnants of the window towards the vortex that was the incursion which now ruled over his world and watched the lightning that crackled through it with minute interest. His attention to it didn't last long and he rose from his worn mattress, tossing the covers aside as he swung his legs to the side of the bed and stood up. As he walked towards the door of his room, his robes materialized from the indigo magic contained inside of his body, hiding away the three puncture scars that adorned his stomach and sides. He did his best not to think of the way that the fence had felt tearing through his skin and his organs, especially since he was now mostly back in his proper mindset. That variant of himself had done him a favor, as badly as he hated to admit it.
Not long after he had managed to get himself off of the fence and back into the Sanctum to recover after the bastard used it for a ritual space to get back to his own world, he was graced by another visitor. This one not a variant of himself, but the one who would remove what was left of the Darkhold's influence over him. He had been wary of her, tried to send her away from his destroyed and lifeless world for fear not only of what he may do to her, but because she was a light. A light that would attract too many creatures that would come after her here in this desolate world. But no matter how hard he tried to push her away, she just stayed; refusing to see him as a monster but instead as a broken and lonely man. And the more she showed her determination to stay at his side, the more he realized that she was chipping away at the walls of ice he had built up around his heart after losing Christine so many times in so many branches of the Multiverse.
He was strong enough now to let it go.
He had never been one to believe in destiny, and even now through all that he had experienced, there was a part of him that still didn't. But he believed now that there was a master plan for everyone and that maybe just because he didn't believe in destiny didn't mean it didn't believe in him. Because when he looked at her, he felt warmth returning to his body. There was music in the ambience around the once cold and empty Sanctum. He now heard a voice that told him to not give up on her, to keep her there with him so that he could continue to get back to who he once was. She helped him lose track of time, helped him see color again, and to remember that the heart he had long shield away from the world and everyone that he met while Dreamwalking still beat in his own chest.
He had taken her on as a student originally, teaching her magic to protect herself to prepare for the inevitable attacks. But through the long nights of helping her translate old tomes and learn the difference between attack and protection runes, he began to realize that she was much more than just a student. Still, he didn't allow himself to get to close out of fear of what may happen to her due to the grip the Darkhold had on him then. But his walls were very thin, and he knew that this may very well be the time that he gave into the longing he had been hiding for her. He knew she adored him: She made that very plainly obvious the night that she had refused to stop holding him when he was trying to fight off the last of the grip the Darkhold had on him. He had tried to make her let go, accidentally setting off one of his spells that had cut her arm and even then, she didn't let go of him and simply smiled, despite the pain in her face and told him that it was all going to be okay, that she wasn't going to let him go, nor would he have to face it alone anymore.
n that moment, the hold shattered. He came back to himself and the darkness and voices that had clawed at the corners of his mind receded, finally leaving him in peace. It was also the first time in years that he had profusely apologized to anyone as he healed her cut and begged for her to forgive him. Of course, she had, and she told him it was because she loved him even if he didn't love her back. That night he had spent all of the hours that he should have been sleeping pacing his room and trying to figure out how he could be at all worthy of this beautiful woman who had refused to see him as a monster. But over these however many days - or months - that he had seen her become a Master in her own rights, he decided that maybe, he didn't need to be.
He just was.
Returning to his current mind, he walked to the study where he knew she would undoubtedly be due to having issues with her own insomnia lately. For the nights that he woke up due to not being able to sleep soundly, she stayed up just as many because she didn't find sleep easy at all. He reached out and pressed his palm against the heavy wooden door, pushing it open as he stepped through.
"Moonflower, are y-" The words died on his lips at the sight he was greeted with.
The woman was not awake as he had expected that she would be, but inside as asleep on the chaise lounge under the reticulated gothic window, the remnants of its iron mullions casting a array of shadows down on her frame. Her beautiful dark curls haloed her peaceful features, drawing him in further to look at her sleeping form, reaching out with a hesitant hand to brush a stray curl from her cheek. As he reached down to move the book from her hand, he caught sight of something that made his heart skip a beat within his chest where he was beating. Her slowly rising and falling chest was covered in a hoodie that he recognized immediately but had not seen in years. A soft baby blue with a faded white emblem of a shield baring three crowns under the words Columbia University, he recalled looking for the hoodie for weeks some long time ago. But here it was, on the woman that he was so sure he was falling so deeply in love with, and he could no longer ignore that destiny was indeed playing its hand.
And he also now knew that his resolve was gone: He needed to be with her.
He allowed himself to lean forward, kissing along her neck and relishing in the small sound that she made as his beard brushing against her skin roused her from her slumber.
"Stephen?" she asked softly as her beautiful green eyes fluttered open.
"Shh, do not speak, my beautiful moonflower," he whispered warmly against her ear as his fingers trailed down her body. "If you do, I may stop. Do not make me stop."
"Please don't," she replied.
He moved as she shifted so that she was on her back and his lips trailed along her neck as she leaned her head back, letting out a breath of building pleasure. His hands traced the shape of her supple breasts, the fabric of his old hoodie hiding her body from him and preventing him from being able to fully touch her. He kissed her cheeks, the right and then the left as his hands finally reached the bottom of the hoodie and began to push it up, only for her to stop him. He pulled back to look at her with confusion until he saw the fear in her expression as she gripped his wrists tightly to the point her knuckles were white, and she trembled slightly.
He chastised himself for forgetting.
During one of their many late-night conversations when he had finally confessed to her why his world looked like it did, how he had been so enamored with Christine that he did things he wasn't proud of, she had also made a confession to him. Her past lovers had all been cruel to her about the size and shape of her body, reprimanding her for not being the "ideal woman" when her body was not made that way. They had kept the lights off when they used her for their own pleasure, never taking into consideration what it did to her self-esteem. And as a result, she wore multiple layers of clothing, stopped eating and tried to hide away the beauty of her body. A beauty that he knew did not just come from the skin, but from that beautiful light that he saw shining from inside of her. The very light that he was so drawn to that he now allowed himself to say that he was in love again.
"My dear, you do not need to be scared of me seeing you," he told her, his confidence that he had so many years ago suddenly returning to him. He reached up to cup her face in his hands, though still she did not let go of his wrists. "I do not think that you are anything less than a beautiful, strong woman. Because what your body shows is nothing less than a reflection of your beauty from within: A beautiful and perfect light. And if you allow me this night, I promise to show you just how wrong all of those fools were about you. Let me in, just as I have let you into my heart."
He watched tears fill her eyes and he gently pet them away with his thumbs when they spilled down her cheeks, making her close her eyes for a moment. For a moment, he feared her silence meant that he had pushed her too far too fast, until finally she let go of his wrists and reopened her eyes to look at his. She slowly and reached up to wrap her arms around his shoulders and guide him closer to her, so he instinctively leaned into her. He pressed his lips against hers just firmly enough that he could feel her returning the kiss as he kept his hands on her face for a moment longer. When he was sure she was comfortable, he maneuvered himself to sit on the lounge beside her legs and his hands slowly ran back down her sides in case she changed her mind. But when she parted from the kiss, he opened his eyes - which he hadn't realized he had closed - to look at hers again just as they reopened as well since she had closed them too, during their exchange.
"My body is yours, Stephen Strange, as much as my heart is," she told him softly, a nervous smile appearing on her face but so full of love that he almost didn't see it. "Please, take me."
With her consent now given to him, he nodded and leaned in to kiss her once again and oh, what a beautiful sensation it was. The feeling of her warm, soft lips against his own was something he had not even allowed himself to dream of until just recently and to be given it so soon afterwards shifted his entire world on it axis. Their lips moved in a synchronicity that he had never achieved with anyone prior to her, as if they were listening to the song of each other's bodies and it was matched to the same rhythm. He dared to be brave enough to give her lips the slightest of touch with the tip of his tongue, asking for permission to explore her more intimately.
His heart fluttered when she moaned softly and parted her lips to allow him entry.
Their tongues met in a slow, intimate caress and he could taste the Earl Grey and Madeleines on her tongue that he had undoubtedly consumed before falling asleep on the lounge. His hands resumed their exploration from earlier and found the edge of his University hoodie, slowly moving up underneath it to feel that underneath, she had on a simple t-shirt rather than the top to her Master's robes. Her abdomen tightened at the feel of his fingers moving upwards so he paused and pet the tight muscles with his thumbs to let her knows he was still safe and could tell him to stop at any time. When she relaxed, he allowed his hands to move up farther as they broke from the kiss finally to breathe. He cupped her breasts in his large hands, feeling her arch to him as she leaned her head back and moaned, exposing the beautiful planes of pale skin to him. He leaned in, licking the tendon in her neck where it was showing before kissing along it as his thumbs traced circles around her nipples, which he felt becoming erect to his touch.
"Oh gods," she moaned as she wrapped her arms more securely around his back and dug her fingers into the vest of his robes. "Stephen."
"Your voice is so beautiful," he whispered against her neck, kissing the moist skin he had been tasting. "Let me hear you, beautiful one. Do not hide away from me."
He pulled back just enough to move his hands and gather the hoodie from the bottom and pull it up, so she held her arms up and allowed him to remove it. In return, he stripped himself of his vest and vambraces, dropping them to the ground with the hoodie. He reached for the bottom of her shirt, giving her a look of inquisition, making her nod, so her slowly took it off as well and looked at her bare torso as he dropped the cloth to the floor. He tried not to let his eyes linger on any one spot too long, out of fear that she would become uncomfortable, but he was in awe of her beautiful form. The expanse of barely-there freckles that adored her sides and wrapped around her ribs towards her breasts, the beautiful dark pink areola that encompassed her hardened nipples. His eyes trailed down, taking in the softened edges of her curves and where her chest bled into her abdomen, down her navel to the dark stretchmarks that adorned her stomach.
This was the sensitive spot.
Immediately, when his eyes glanced them, she tried to pull her legs up and hide away from his sight. Seeing her insecurity and knowing that it would be hard to convince her with further words that she didn't need to be ashamed, he came up with a different solution. He undid the fastenings of his robes, folding the layers and hesitated when he went to open them as he looked at her in a bit of anxiousness. This got her attention, seeing that he felt the same way about something that she did, but watching as he slowly opened his time worn, faded blue-grey robes to reveal his abdomen. He shrugged them off, dropping them to the floor as he avoided her eyes for a moment, letting her look over him as he glanced down at his own body.
His body had gone soft around the edges as well, due to having no need recently to fight, but the tone was still there. His chest and upper abdomen were dusted with a very fine layer of black hair that trailed down between his abs…to the healing puncture mark. His jaw set as he swallowed hard, before looking at her and her legs relaxed as a look of recognition crossed her beautiful face.
"You aren't the only one…who has something about themself that reminds them of their past, moonflower," he whispered softly, sincerely as his eyes softened and met hers finally. "I can barely stand to look at my body: These healing scabs remind me of the monster that I was. But they also remind me of who I am now. That I can begin to be comfortable with myself again, thanks to you."
He watched her shift to sit up and reach out to him, so he relaxed his shoulders, reaching up to take her hand and brought it to rest over his heart which was beating rapidly behind his ribs. She reached up with her other hand, placing it next to the first so he rests both of his on the back of her arms and watched as her lithe fingers trailed across his clavicle before moving slowly down his pectoral muscles. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes as he felt her fingers brush over his own hardened nipples, eliciting a moan to escape his lips. A chill of excitement rushed down his spine, pooling into a warmth within his Sacral Chakra and filling his lower stomach with excitement.
When her fingers traced the defining edges of his abs, his stomach tightened as well and he let out a slow, shaky breath as he inclined his head and looked at her as she touched the scabs. He shivered a little when she traced the one just above his navel and then the two on his sides, watching as she came to understand and looked up at him. He gave her a smile that he hoped reflected the warmth she was filling him with and the love that he felt radiating for her inside of him that was starting to spread across his skin and make his blood burn hot. He felt like he was truly coming back to life under her touch, the instinct to love and make love finally reignited from that flickering ember in his heart to be a roaring fire. When she leaned in to kiss him, he returned it without hesitation and their eyes closed, their arms wrapping around each other to press their bare chests together; her stretch marks matching up to the healing wounds on his abdomen.
His hands explored her back, feeling the dip and curve of her spine as his fingers ran down to her hips and felt every perfect imperfection here as well. She moaned in pleasant surprise as he pulled her close and lay her back down slowly, parting from the kiss to open his eyes and look at her once more, letting her see the awe of her in his stormy blue irises before he resumed where he had left off earlier. His lips started this time at her elegant collarbone, licking along its definition and biting slightly down on it which made her gasp in shock and moan as she arched to him. The sound shot straight to his loins; his body finally reacting to her beautiful vocalizations his he began growing erect in his trousers. His hands resumed cupping her breasts, this time from beneath so that they were being held rather than fondled. He kissed down her left breast, looking up at her and saw the deep pink flush in her cheeks that spread up to her ears as his tongue darted out to trace the areola with the tip before giving her nipple a long firm lick with the flat of it.
He began to suck on the sensitive pink bud of nerves, moaning himself as he drank in the way she moaned his name and getting high off the way she was grabbing onto his shoulders tightly, digging in her nails.
"I have you, my love, do not worry yourself," he reassured her, kissing the inside of her other thigh, his eyes still on hers. "I will take care of you."
He moved her right leg with his left hand so that her footrest on the floor and he placed wet, warm kisses along the inside of her thigh to the spot where she needed him most. His tongue licked from the base of her labia to the top, tasting her slick and she all but wailed in pleasure as she arched her back and her hands left his shoulders in favor of his already tousled hair. He moaned as he tasted her sweet fluids, tinged with a salty hint from the balance in her recent eating. She was clean, her arousal smelt natural and strong, the lingering scent of the natural oils she bathed with on her skin driving him crazy. He drew his tongue across her once, twice, three times more before using his thumbs to spread her open as far as he could so that he could press his tongue inside of her, licking against her vaginal walls. His penis throbbed inside of his trousers as she cried his name, begging him for more and he traced every inch of her slick walls that he could reach with his tongue, drinking her down as though he were a man in the desert, dying of thirst.
He pulled her tongue from inside of her, replacing it instead with the gently but firm brush of his middle and ring fingers as he flicked the tip of his tongue against her clitoris, making her scream in shock and pleasure. He could tell shit hit her first climax and he pulled away enough to breathe against her, his beard glistening in the light from the moon and fireplace with her fluids, his lips slick with evidence of his endeavors of pleasuring her.
"P-please," she begged breathlessly.
She didn't need to finish as he kissed below her belly button, pressing in his middle finger first, stopping when he felt her tense to give her time to adjust. He nuzzled her stomach as he watched her lean her head back, whimpering and moaning breathlessly. When he was sure she was relaxed enough and down from her first climax in who knew how many years, he added in his ring finger and began to move them in and out of her. He was careful to stretch her and rub her walls to stimulate her so that he could add his index finger, groaning as he palmed at his own arousal. The slick, sliding noise that his fingers made against her walls and labia was the final thing that broke his self-restraint, feeling the wet spot on his own trousers growing from his penis excreting pre-seminal fluids. When he removed his fingers, she whimpered at the loss and looked at him in worry.
"It is alright my dear moonflower, I simply cannot wait any longer," he told her, his voice shaking slightly from arousal. The need to be inside of her, though he was quite proud of the fact he wasn't tearing his own clothes apart or just dismissing them with his magic. "I want to be inside of you."
"We are on the lounge, my love," she replied, looking a little worried. "It isn't ideal for this."
"I will show you how, if you will allow me."
"Oh god, yes. If you know how we can make this space work, then please join with me, Stephen," she whispered heatedly, her own voice shaking with anticipation.
He removed his belts and moved just enough to push his pants down to his knees, before moving her legs to sit a little further on the lounge cushion. He would pride himself in the way her body seized temporarily at the sight of his erection later. He knew he was gifted; he had always been told by his partners that he was, and at some point, the fact he was nine inches probably went to his head. But right here and now, he simply was thankful this beautiful woman was allowing him to be inside of her, rather than taking pride in his own size. He gently took her hands and guided her to him, helping her straddle him and she made a noise of surprise and embarrassment, making him press a loving kiss over her heart.
"It is alright, my love, you are doing great," he told her in a loving, comforting tone.
"S-Stephen my legs can't hold up to this," she replied, holding onto his shoulders.
"They do not need to. Give me just a moment and you will see why."
He wrapped one arm lovingly around her waist, holding her close to him as he reached down with his other hand and took hold of himself, sighing at the relief in the feeling. He lined himself u with her, using a spell to lubricate himself before pressing the blunt head of his erection against her vaginal opening. He watched her face for any sighs of discomfort or pain, but when he was rewarded with a moan as he breeched her and her hugging his shoulders so she could bury her face in his neck, he allowed himself to let go of his worry. He made sure he was deep enough into her that they were anchored together, and he moaned her name as he felt his whole-body throb with the desire to thrust, but he restrained. He guided her now with both hands to rest all the way down on him and when she had, he used a spell to duplicate a outline of his arms and helped her wrap her legs around his waist. He was pleasantly shocked when the shift in position had caused him to hit her g-spot and her whole body shuddered against him.
"That it my beautiful one, ride me and use my body for your pleasure," he whispered hotly against her ear, his hands holding her as tightly as they would allow. "Let me see you come undone on my lap as you scream my name to the heavens."
He moved just enough that his legs were supporting her fulling and she screamed in wanton pleasure, the movement just enough to cause him to hit her g-spot. They began to move together, their moans of unbridled pleasure filling the silent room. Her moans echoed on his growls which were coupled with the slick, clap of their skin meeting as she rode him, and he rolled his hips back to meet hers. The growing pace and heat building between them caused a sheen of sweat to form on both of their bodies, the smell of the arousals growing stronger and driving him absolutely crazy. He bit and licked on her shoulder, making her scream his name and rake her nails down his back and he growled in pure bliss at the painful pleasure that racked through his body. He could feel himself getting close to his peak, the vice like grip her slick walls had on his erection and the feeling of her breasts pressed so firmly to his pectoral muscles drove him the best kind of insane he had been in years. He could feel her getting closer to her second climax as well, so he pulled away enough that their eyes met and her breathed her named in a heavy pant.
"I know you are close; I feel you molding to my shaft," he told her breathlessly, his bangs sticking to his forehead just as her curls stuck to her beautiful cheek bones. "Come hit that peak for me, my love, and climax with me. Let me see you come undone on my lap as you scream my name to the heavens."
She leaned in to kiss him without words, so he returned it despite his earlier actions, feeling her tightening even further around him. He moved one hand down between their bodies, feeling where they were joined, and her beautiful walls stretched so wide around him. He began to stroke her clitoris again, causing her to break away and scream his name, her body going as taunt as a bowstring as she hit her climax once more. He moaned for her, feeling her muscles grip him like a vice and he thrust against her once, twice-
"Oh fuck, Stephen!" she screamed as she arched her back and threw her head back, her nails digging into the skin on his shoulders.
"Oh, god!" he moaned as her pressed his forehead to her should, holding her hips firmly as he pulled her down as far as she could go, as close as she could be, and hit his peak inside of her.
He felt pulse after pulse of his semen spill inside of her as light danced behind his eyes and their panting echoed through the room, accompanied by the crackling of the fire and the rumbling outside the windows, which now began to calm down, as though their passion had quelled its anger. He moved his hand away and returned his arm around her to hold her close, feeling her rest her cheek against the top of his head as heir breathing leveled, though they didn't move just yet. When their breaths had finally returned to their strained lungs, he pulled back enough to look up at her and she moved too, so she could see his eyes. He felt her elegant fingers push his hair back into place which made his eyes threaten to fall shut, but he instead reached up with his clean hand to brush her curls from her face and smiled softly at her.
"I love you, my sweet moonflower," he spoke, soft and sincere before cupping his cheek. "My life is in you, and I promise I will do everything in my power to make you always feel cherished."
The woman smiled, lovingly as tears of joy filled her eyes and she leaned in, kissing the horizontal scar that ran across his forehead from where he said a third eye had once been. She then took his face in her hands and their eyes met once more.
"As I love you, Stephen, and I promise in turn, I will always be here to remind you that you are loved. I will never give up on you," she told him, the same love he always heard in her voice ever present.
After a couple of more minutes, he helped her to get up off of his lap and put his trousers back on, wrapping her in his robes and grabbed the hoodie from the floor. He looked at it for a moment, then to her and she saw the look of thought on his face.
"Where did you even find this old thing?" he finally inquired. He hadn't seen the damn thing in years, thinking it had fallen through a part of the void.
"I found it lying on the lounge when I came in, folded up neatly like it was meant to be found," she told him as she looked at it. "I just..knew it was yours somehow."
He looked back at it and couldn't help the slight smirk as he felt a warm breeze at his back before it disappeared just as quick. He took her hands and placed the clothing in them, kissing the top of her head afterwards.
"Keep wearing it for me. It looks much better on you than it ever did on me. Come now, let us go get a shower and retire for the night."
Hand in hand, they left the room and headed down the hall to the grand bathroom where they soaked together, sharing gentle touches and soft kisses to further cement their union had not been a dream to either of them.
And when she lay down with him in bed, in his hoodie with head on his chest, he finally slept soundly.
Requested originally by @sobeautifullyobsessed
Characters: Doctor Strange & Cloak of Leviation (Levi)
Rating: PG Warnings: Mentions of death & violence. Mental dystopia.
Words: 2,605
Genre: Humor, fluff, hurt/comfort
Plot: Stephen has taken over the Sanctum Sanctorum as its Master and now he's learning how to live in the city again. More so, he's learning to live with someone again. Cloak has made it very apparent that he's got his own quirks that he's going to have to get used to. But he's already aware of the growing bond between himself and the sentient artifact.
Song Inspiration: Conversation by LP
A/N: I'm so sorry that it took so long to get to this one, dear. I hope that you like it, though! I really enjoyed writing this and showing my AU's take on Stephen and Cloak's relationship. This takes place in the Dragon Soul AU, where Stephen is "Bonded" with Cloak from birth.
All writings belong to @multiversemusings. Do not steal, repost as your own or take credit for my work. If you have a request, please put it in my inbox!
"Let's have a conversation, I know you really care and so do I."
The end of the battle had finally brought him to the point where he knew what the Ancient One had wanted him to be. He had decided after coming back from the Dark Dimension and putting the Eye of Agamotto in its resting place for now, Stephen took on the role of Master Of the New York Sanctum. He bid goodbye to Wong, who went to help Hong Kong with the damage that the Sanctum there had sustained even after he reversed time on it using the Infinity Stone. He also said farewell to Damon, who went to help London - the city of his mother's heritage - to help them begin rebuilding their Sanctum as well. He was disappointed that he couldn't help them, but he knew that it was best if he went back to his own Sanctum to keep an eye on it. He also had to familiarize himself with the beautiful building that he would now be calling his home. It was a little overwhelming, if he was perfectly honest, to go from that small room in Kamar-Taj to this gorgeous, antique building that predated even the oldest streets around it.
He walked through the many halls, taking in the different and distinct themes of each one as he did: The east wing seemed to be dedicated to artifacts, where the study was as well through a large set of oak doors. He took note of the huge floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that ran along the entire room except where the fireplace resided on the north wall, before proceeding down the hall to find that this was where the meditation room was situated as well. The west wing was more of the "house" part of the building, consisting of the den, the kitchen and a grand dining room. Stephen noted the scuff marks on the floor where the chairs had been slid in and out from the table so many times, concluding that this was also probably where meetings between Masters would take place. He would have to ask Wong or Damon about that next time that he saw them. As he passed by the changing windows, he was suddenly tugged to a stop, making him grunt and stumble to catch his balance. He looked at the artifact that was still resting on his shoulders which, up until this point, had been silently about him looking around.
"What? What's wrong?" he asked the sentient artifact. Ever since Cloak - who he was now sure he was Bonding to - had been released from that case and saved him from dying, he had noticed that the artifact was quite quirky about things. "Is there something down that hallway you don't like?"
The artifact rippled against his back and tried to pull him away from the entrance of the hall, but Stephen pushed back against him and told him to cut it out. He could almost feel the whine echo in his throat even though he wasn't the one who made that made it. They had only been together for a couple of days, yet here he was already channeling his partner's emotions through his own body. He sighed and made the artifact let go of his shoulders by gently pulling the clasps from the front of his robes. He watched as his partner hovered off of the floor, the uneven pleats swayed as it did and it shook its collar at the man, making him tilt his head in question before looking down the hallway. He could see there were at least two doors on each side of the hall as well as another hallway that split off at the end of it, so whatever it was that his partner didn't want to go near must be in one of the rooms. He looked back at the cloak and just held his hand up for it to stay where it was.
"Okay, you stay there then, and I'll go look down this hallway without you," he told it. The shorter corner of the fabric wrapped around his hand like a small child holding onto its parent and it shook its collar again. "Levi, I have to go down there so that I know what I'm doing in this place. You wouldn't want The Ancient One to be upset with me, would you? Tell you what, just tell me what room you're so nervous about and I won't look in that one. How does that sound?"
This seemed to calm his partner down and it - albeit begrudged he sensed - let go of his hand, pointing to the one on the right, so Stephen looked. It was a set of bamboo wooden doors that closed in the center of the doorway where they met to form a blockade to whatever was behind them. He looked back to his partner, pointing at it to make sure that was the one that Cloak didn't want him to look in, to which the artifact nodded. He returned it and headed down the hallway, looking at the paintings on the walls as he did. A couple of them were scenic; large mountains like the Alps with a flowing river at the base through a field of poppies and others were dense forests with god rays shining through the gaps in the branches or with deer standing in a clearing. When he got to the first set of rooms, he looked at the right room and then over his shoulder to where his partner was watching him closely and seemed to have puffed up in anxiety.
He swallowed thickly as he felt the artifact's emotions in his own chest, making his heart race so he looked back at the doors for a moment before deciding that his partner's trust was more important than his own curiosity. He turned away from the doors and opted to search the rest of the rooms which turned out to be a pantry since the kitchen was just around the corner, a large linen closet and a storage room. As he got to the end of the hallway, he looked to the left and noticed it went towards a single, large wood and metal door. The right hallway had a hand count of more rooms on it, so he went that way first and opened each door to find bedrooms that were furnished in rococo sets ranging from rosewood to deep mahogany. He guessed these were guest rooms for when the other Masters came over for meetings, so he headed back to the T junction to see Cloak still patiently waiting for him where he had told him to. He smiled to himself, but he knew somehow that the artifact could feel the pleasant sensation of thankfulness in his chest.
He went down the other hallway, noting the decorative shelves on the walls here and that there seemed to be a key rack next to this door. He looked confused at it, with its four different rings full of keys on it, then to the large door in front of him. It didn't have a lock on it, so whatever the keys were for must have been behind it, which made his curiosity grow. He opened the door and peeked in, seeing that there was a large stone staircase going downwards, bringing him to the conclusion that there was some kind of sublevel to the Sanctum that he would have to explore later. He closed the door for now and turned, heading back to the main hallway to find that Cloak had seemed to have fluttered off somewhere. He couldn't help himself when he saw that his partner wasn't in view but to very carefully open one of the bamboo doors to see what was behind it.
He damn near busted out laughing as he did.
Whatever he had been expecting to see - an interrogation room, a room for destroying out of control artifacts, whatever - was completely blasted from his mind at the sight of the clean, large room with a large marble top table on the left side next to a counter with a sink under a decorative window directly across from him. On the righthand side of the room was a very modern - and very out of place with everything else - washer and dryer set. He could understand why Cloak would hate this room and he laughed to himself as he closed the door, though it was a laugh not of humor, but of endearment. However, when he looked at the end of the hallway, he noticed his partner hovering there and its shoulders were sagging, and he felt a pang of sadness in his chest from his partner. He immediately was overcome with guilt at the feeling and tears filled his eyes from his partner's emotions. Did the cloak think that he had been laughing at him because he thought it was funny?
"Levi-" he called out, jumping when the cloak flew off. "Levi, wait!"
He rushed after his partner, heading back through the hallways and barely keeping track of him. As he got back out to large foyer of the Sanctum, he lost track of where his partner went and looked around, still feeling guilt but now there was a bit of panic. He knew that Cloak couldn't open doors, but he also was realizing just how huge this place was and it would be hard to find his partner since it clearly knew all of the individual rooms better than he did. Rather than panic, he tamed himself down for a moment and reached out to his partner's energy to sense where it was coming from. Though they were just starting to Bond, he could already sense the being's energy, so he followed it to its source and found the cloak curled up in what was left of its case. For a moment, Stephen got a flash of a man with long black hair wearing burgundy and gold Master's robes sitting in his partner's place, hugging his knees to his body with his head down. He blinked the vision away, shaking his head before looking at the cloak and frowned as he sensed its sorrow.
Rather than open his mouth and risk making it worse, Stephen left his partner alone for a moment and went back to the pantry to grab the broom and dustpan that he had seen there. He returned, setting the dustpan aside and began to sweep up the shattered glass, the sound letting Cloak know that his partner was still there even if he wasn't ready to talk. Sure, he could have cleaned up the mess with his magic, but this was about spending time with his partner, even if he wasn't ready for him to talk yet. As he swept the glass up into the dustpan, he winced very softly as his fingers popped because he had them clenched so tightly around the handle of the broom. The noise made Cloak look up slowly to make sure that his partner was okay, which drew Stephen's attention over to him and he paused what he was doing, setting the broom against another case. He went over and sat down carefully beside the case, looking at the cloak who looked back to him and he could still sense the sadness in his chest as the entity looked down at his pleats.
"Levi, I wasn't laughing at you, I promise," he whispered softly, getting his partner's attention. He thought about the image that he had seen when he approached the casing of the man sitting in his partner's place and he began to understand. "I wasn't laughing because I thought it was funny, I was laughing because I thought it was endearing that you are a cloak who has the sentience to be scared of the laundry room. But you're much more than that, aren't you?"
The artifact raised its collar a little and turned to face him as it did. Stephen could sense it wondering what he had seen.
"Ever since you saved me from breaking my neck when Kaecillius knocked me over the banister, I could tell you were different. But I didn't realize that you weren't created by magic, that you're actually a spirit woven into the threads you're made from." The artifact rose up from its sitting position, so Stephen did too, and they faced each other properly. "I can now understand why you're scared of the washing machine; you still see the world as a person, even though you're a cloak. That must have been torture for you, being pushed under water and thrown around without regard for what you really are. Not…unlike how Dormammu suffocated me with the water wisps."
The artifact came out of its case and reached up to his face, wiping at it and the man realized he had been crying without realizing it. He took Cloak's corner and held it to his chest, bowing his head as he closed his eyes and trembled, the unseen wounds under his robes from the many deaths he had suffered burning fiercely. He felt his partner wrap around him, but where he was expecting soft fabric, he felt warm, strong arms and a shoulder where he rests his head against it as he let himself cry for what he had gone through finally. He grabbed onto the man who shushed him gently, a hand resting on the back of his head as he gripped the soft red fabric in his aching fingers.
"I'm so sorry," Stephen choked out. "For what I've put you through…for being so ignorant to your feelings like I have everyone else's."
You are too hard on yourself, Stephen, he heard a voice speak in his mind, warm like a desert and soft like a brush of wings against the wind. I chose you because you needed me, and I will always forgive you for whatever we go through together. But you must also forgive yourself for being human.
Stephen raised his head from the man's shoulder, and he expected the vision to fade, only to be pleasantly surprised when it remained. The man looking back at him had handsome, strong features with tan skin and a well-kept goatee similar to his own with high cheekbones haloed by long black waves of silken hair. His brown eyes were like deep forests, hiding stories that were just waiting to be explored which drew Stephen it. The man smiled at him, and he felt himself relax, closing his eyes once again as the man's forehead pressed against his own before fading into a soft feeling of fabric against his skin. When they parted, the sorcerer looked at the cloak and gave him a half smile as the artifact lowered itself from his shoulders.
"Okay, I'll do my best, but only on one condition," he replied finally, making Cloak tilt his collar. "Whenever you get dirty, you let me wash you in the shower where you'll be more comfortable. What do you say?"
He could sense the artifact smile in his heart and Cloak nodded his collar before moving to wrap itself around his shoulders again.
"Good. Now, let's go finish our look around. I'm getting tired and I'd like to sleep soon."
The man proceeded around the railing of the grand staircase and down one of the hallways to his right to look around. He knew now that their Bond was much more important than just a Master of the Mystic Arts and his sentient cloak, he just wasn't sure how. As time would progress, maybe those brown eyes he had seen that now were so vividly imprinted on his mind would reveal their secrets, just like his new home would tell him all its stories.
Your knees had been quivering from just the man in front of you, but your legs nearly gave out when the six portals opened up in front of the other chairs along the platform. You pulled at your binds when other versions of the man stepped in through them, all looking at you with skepticism and caution. Each one a reflection of the first, but with enough traits to make them look like brothers rather than the same person. One had a gaunt look to him with pointed ears, the other a classic sort of sorcerer you'd see in fantasy movies but dressed in elaborate robes. Another had a clean-shaven face but there was a darkness in his eyes you could tell was hiding something. Another had long hair with deer like antlers atop of his head and two smaller horns at his temples.
You had been told by the Ancient One to regard the spells of the Multiverse with caution because of the council that guarded the main hub of the gateways. He had warned you of their unpredictable nature, that they were all strong sorcerers who had been in and out of the Multiverse themselves. That they didn't take kindly to someone treading through it to just see if they could it.
But here now, bound by the Chains of Andromeda and in the presence of seven variants of the great Doctor Stephen Strange, you were quickly coming up with a Plan B on how to spend your day.
Originally a fic request by @harlekin6
Pairing: James "Bucky" Barnes x FReader Rating:
PG Warnings: Mentions of violence and blood.
Words: 1,568
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort
Plot: Bucky ends a mission in Argentina with an exhaustion he hasn't felt in a very long time: Emotional. He thinks to go back to Wakanda, but he knows that he needs comfort after what happened. So instead, he goes to the one person he knows he can trust besides Sam: You
Song inspiration: Blinding Lights by The Weeknd.
A/N: I worked on this one for quite a while, since I know very little about Bucky passed Winter Soldier. But I love you, Sunshine. You ask, you receive. I hope I did your white wolf justice.
All writings belong to @multiversemusings. Do not steal, repost as your own or take credit for my work. If you have a request, please put it in my inbox!
The mission had been a hard one this time.
Usually when him and Sam took on these kinds of tasks there was no real threat; it was usually surveillance, infiltration and arresting the one who they were looking for. This time though, the arms dealers they were supposed to be tracking down had been tipped off by someone and they had heavier patrols up then they had been informed of. On the way in, he had been clipped by a bullet across his temple and it stung to the point that it was noticeable, so he reached up to touch the spot. As he pulled away his hand, the red staining his fingers sent him into a frenzy of actions. While he had managed to keep from losing control of himself as he would have in the past, he still hadn't been as easy on the dealers as he would have liked to be. However, when the PTSD triggered of losing his arm and everything that followed, he could barely hold himself back. No one had died, but he had hurt a couple of them to the point that they would have to be hospitalized before being questioned. After turning over the case to the branch they were working with in Argentina, Bucky headed back to the jet where Sam was waiting for him.
"Ready to go back to the pride that raised you, wolf?" Sam teased, seeing his partner was extremely stressed, in hopes of lightening the mood. "You gotta be easier on yourself, man, you didn't kill anyone. T'Challa will give you pointers for that."
Bucky smirked slightly as he sat down in the co-pilot seat and strapped in as his partner closed the hangar doors. He thought about his hut waiting for him back in the beautiful country that had taken him in as one of their own, the place that he now lived, but deep down he knew that he didn't call home. Because home was where he needed to go right now, especially because he knew Sam was right.
"Actually, can you drop me off at the compound?" the mak asked, getting a bit of a surprised look from the black male. "I think tonight I would rather be with someone rather than on my own. Silence is dangerous when I'm this deep in my own head."
"Silence? With goats around? Yeah alright man." The man snorted as Bucky shook his head, making a noise of amusement.
The man looked out the window as the jet took off, thinking about where he was planning to go now that the mission was over. His home was where she was, the woman with the hair as beautiful as her spirit and eyes as deep as endless oceans. He had met her at one of Stark's Christmas parties one year, when he had been so uncomfortable that every bone in his body said, 'screw the serum, this discomfort is painful' and reminded him of just how old he was. Just as he decided that he was going to leave for the night, she had approached him quietly, but with the confidence of someone who knew what they wanted. She had asked him if he was done being shy and hiding in the corner like a dog with its tail between its legs, given him a smile of invitation that made him remember who he used to be. That night had left them exchanging numbers and names, but only nicknames and aliases.
Over time, he came to find out that she was a friend of Clint Barton's, a protege of Natasha Romanoff's and an agent in the field for a group that called themselves The Shadows. After corresponding for nearly a year after he got his new arm and was safe from being corrupted by the Winter Soldier programming thanks to Shuri and Tony, he had decided to try and become a little more serious with her and they began to see each other when they had time. It had been a bit difficult at first, with his fear of what he had been keeping him wary of how just how close he got and her past trauma with someone she loved and lost. On the second anniversary of their meeting however, when they had both been battle worn and she - with the softest voice he'd ever heard - asked him to stay as she held his metal hand in her own. That was the beginning of everything that they now had together. There were many nights of confiding in each other about their pasts, more frequent dates with the final exchange of their real names and a few physical encounters that left both of them anxious for more. And to him, she was the one he loved: She was his home.
The two arrived back at the Avengers Compound sometime later, Sam landed the aircraft with the same precision that he flew his own wings. As the engines shut down, he took off his safety belts and the man did the same.
"Going to see your lady friend, old dog?" the man asked, smirking as the two got up and headed for the opened hangar door.
"You've been sitting on that since we left, haven't you?" he asked the man, finding himself smiling when Sam just grinned. "Well, I guess even a feather brain like you would know when they need to go back to their roost."
"I thought you called it a den."
"Bye, Sam." He said as he walked off, waving over his shoulder with his organic hand, making the man laugh.
Before anyone could stop him to ask about the mission, the man got onto his motorcycle and headed off away from the headquarters. It had been at least three months now since they last saw each other, and he hoped she was home. When he called her to inform her, he was going on a mission, she said that she would be home for a time. He hoped that The Shadows hadn't called her out because he didn't know where he would go if they had. The lights danced across the front of his bike as he rode down the long New York roads, heading to the edge of the city, reminding him of how a wolf would feel seeing the moon pouring down on the ground between the tree branches on the night of a full moon as it headed back to its den. Knowing there was someone there waiting for them, no matter how long they had been gone nor how far they went.
He pulled down the country road, passing two long dirt driveways that lead to other houses that were hidden well behind the thicket of trees that lined the road, only indicated by mailboxes and recycling bins. He turned down the third driveway, going slow to not jar himself on the rough road and made his way to the cozy brick house situated not far from a pond. Not unlike him, she kept to herself when she wasn't in the field, not just because of her occupation but also because she didn't want to put anyone she cared about in danger. It had taken her a long time to trust that he would be okay if she let him come over to her place. The wars they had fought had hardened both of them, but it was a sharpness that also allowed them to finally show their softness to one another.
They both understood loneliness.
As he parked outside of the cabin, he put the kickstand down and turned off the bike, getting off of its seat. He unzipped his jacket as he headed to the front porch and up the steps to the front door which opened just as he got to it. The sight of her standing there in a white housecoat with her hair pulled up in a messy bun on the back of the back of her head made every ounce of tension that had been nestling in his bones melt away and he let out a breath of relief. He smiled warmly at her, which she returned with loving eyes and a warmth she reserved just for him, holding her arms out to him. He closed the distance between them without any of the hesitation that he had so many years ago and wrapped his arms around her waist as she hugged his shoulders, burying their faces in each other's necks. She smelt of juniper berries, lavender and sandalwood as he dared to hold her a little tighter to his body than he usually did.
"Welcome home, Wolf," she whispered to him warmly, gripping his shirt in her elegant fingers as she turned her head to kiss his cheek. "I had a feeling you may be here together, and I've been waiting for you."
"Thank you, Songbird," he whispered, almost breathlessly as he pulled back and looked at her beautiful eyes. He reached up, taking her face in his hands to pet her cheeks with his thumbs. When she rest her hands over his and gave him that same loving smile, he let a tear run down his face. "Thank you for everything."
He leaned in as she stood on her toes, still holding his wrists to meet him halfway and press their lips to a loving kiss. He was finally, truly home.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Mentions of childhood trauma. Surpressed emotions. Mentions of mental manipulation.
Language. Pairing: Stephen Strange x MReader
Summary: You always have a mask on when you are out at gatherings, and you have always hated it. But the person you are was never accepted by anyone in your family and you were taught that you had to be a specific way in public. You've perfected the art of keeping your true self under wraps: Or so you thought. When a handsome stranger shows up to your friend's wedding, you start to think that someone may finally see who you are, not what you've presented.
Song Inspiration: Waves That Roll You Under by Young Summer
Part 1/5
A/N: Christine and Stephen were never together at any given point; she was his most trusted friend since childhood and colleague. He got the job for her after becoming a surgeon. He had a lover and so did reader, but who they were won't come to light in this part.
All writings belong to @multiversemusings. Do not steal, repost as your own or take credit for my work. If you have a request, please put it in my inbox!
Well, this is just fantastic, he thought to himself. I'm supposed to be here to support my friend on their big day and I've somehow gotten dragged into a conversation about stocks again.
He'd been invited to Christine's wedding after working with her for the last five years in the ER and introducing her to Charlie from accounting since they'd been friends since high school. They had been honored by the invitation, thrilled to be the best man for their childhood friend and remain a part of his life as he started the next chapter in his own. He knew Christine would be good for Charlie after they had discussed fundamentals of relationships a little the year prior to meeting the lovely ER nurse. So, when they had asked him to be a part of their big day, of course there was no way he was going to say no. Even still, life had a way of reminding him exactly what he was. As the reception party started, a couple of their partners had approached him and began to start talking about the funds going in and out of the hospital and what the board was going to be doing with it.
When he was growing up, his father had told him that if he couldn't handle business, he would never amount to anything in the material world and would be a disgrace to their lineage. So, when numbers came into the conversation, he was quick to fall into calculations and suggestions about what the best way to distribute the funds. He also made suggestions of how to make sure things remained fair enough that people and staff could get equal care and benefits. His mother told him that the award-winning smile he had was one of the things that would benefit the business world, just like his father, so he had always made sure to smile when he knew the situation dictated it even if he didn't want to. For all pretense and purposes, he was the perfect business gentleman who knew how to work the crowd and reassure everyone around him that he knew exactly what was going on and he was always in the know.
What he actually was, would be tired.
He had been at this conversation for a little over an hour but wouldn't excuse himself for any reason unless it was urgent. Which given the situation of the day, it wasn't likely that he would be getting out of it any time soon. His fingers itched to tap the neck of his champagne flute anxiously, his foot begged to be tapped in agitation because he knew that there were things that he could be doing for the couple to make sure their day was the best it could be. Yet he stood there, patiently and calmly, ignoring his body's wants in favor of keeping the conversation flowing easily.
"Hopefully Braxton sees things the way you do, Stormy," the woman said in a worried manner. This woman was one of the few people you trusted with your personal nickname that had been given to you years ago by someone you loved and lost. "I just want to know that we're giving the employees and the best we can offer while still being able to pacify the insurance companies."
"I assure you; we're doing all we can," he told her, his smile still present. Just as he was about to speak again, he became very aware that there was a strange sensation on the back of his neck that prickled like electricity. It reminded him of the way that he would feel when he encountered a spirit in the hallways of the hospital. His sixth sense suddenly became very alert of the fact that he was being watched from somewhere. Still, he didn't acknowledge it in favor of continuing his thoughts. "The prices on the bonds will be going up within the next couple of months as the flu season starts coming into play and we'll see a huge pay off. The employees will be able to get a raise from the influx we get from our partners, and we can still offer care to patients even if they don't have insurance. In an ideal world, the government would drop rates as well, but we both know that's not likely to happen."
"Indeed not," the woman replied. She took a sip of her wine before a man off to the side of the room called her name, so she lowered her glass and smiled at him. "Thank you for your insight, dear. Enjoy the rest of your evening."
"Thank you, Mrs. Grey." He kept his smile as he watched her walk away before turning to head for the bar as he finally allowed his face to relax, and he exhaled. He set his glass down and the bartender walked over to him. When he went to refill it with champagne, a deep voice as smooth as black silk spoke to his left.
"Make it a Artemis Cabernet Sauvignon, bar keep," the man said with a smile as he stepped up next to him, setting his own glass down. "And a refill for myself, please. Thank you."
He stared impressed at the man's taste in wine before looking at him and was immediately struck by the icy blue of his eyes and the warmth in his smile. There was something familiar about that smile, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was, exactly. His sixth sense, however, did inform him that this was the person who had been watching him from across the room earlier. When his glass was set down and the flute moved as well as the man's martini being refilled, he smiled at him.
"You have great taste, sir," he replied with a smile.
"My treat, for you keeping up with Harriet for so long," he replied, implying by the first name that he knew the woman. "She lost my interest back when she started talking about Bill Lauren taking over the third seat on the board. The fact that not only did you keep your smile, but you kept the conversation flowing without conflict or difference of opinion was worthy of a Nobel Peace prize."
"You seem to know a lot of people associated with my work," he replied as he eyed the man with genuine curiosity and interest. This was the first time tonight that he was actually enjoying himself and engaging in conversation because he wanted to, not because he felt like it was what he was supposed to do. "And you seem oddly familiar. Have we met before at Mercy General?"
"I don't believe we have met officially, no, but I used to work there," he offered with a smile warm like a summer sun. He offered his hand to him as his blue eyes kept a lock on the other's. "Doctor Stephen Strange."
His eyes widened and he smiled brightly as he breathed out a laugh and he took his hand, giving it a slightly firm shake. "You're Stephen Strange?" he asked as they lowered their hands and reached for their glasses in sync. "I knew your eyes looked familiar, but you're a lot different from the picture of you they have hanging on the wall."
"Ew, they still have that old thing hanging up there? God, I hated that picture," he mumbled as he picked up his glass finally. "They got my bad side. It's not fair that you know my name and I don't know yours. How about we fix that?"
He couldn't help but laugh at the man's words and the sour look on his face, but his laughter seemed to make it go away and he smiled once more, which he thought that he liked to see a lot more. He raised his glass to the man.
"You can call me Y/N and it's a pleasure to meet Christine's childhood friend finally, after hearing so many stories. As for the picture, I'll try to get them to take it down for you," he said with a smile. "Or at least put a better one up. To good taste and better pictures."
Stephen huffed an amused noise and tapped his glass gently to the other man's, both of them taking a sip after they had but their eyes stayed on the other's. It wasn't hard for him to see that the charismatic, ex-surgeon had something on his mind as they stood there together. When they lowered their glasses, Stephen wrinkled up his nose and grunted as if the martini had smelt like something foul and he couldn't help but smile in amusement as he did.
"I do have one question for you," he said thoughtfully and when he hummed in question, acknowledging his words, the blue-eyed man looked at him with a serious expression. "Why do you hide who you truly are?"
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Mentions of demons and poltergeists. Mild mental manipulation. Language.
Pairing: Bisexual MReader x Strange Supreme (MReader x Ancient One mentioned)
Plot: You returned home from a meeting with the Avengers about the state of the barrier around the world, exhausted and something caught onto the drop in your mental barriers. Luckily, a more positive, but equally dark force senses your distress and comes to your rescue.
Word Count: 2800
Song Inspiration: It's the Fear by Within Temptation
All writings belong to @multiversemusings. Do not steal, repost as your own or take credit for my work. If you have a request, please put it in my inbox!
I can no longer restrain it: I have to give in.
Something wasn't right.
It started with a small tingle in the back of his spine whenever he left from seeing Tony and Rhodey at the compound and it had grown into a full-on chill by the time he got to the doors of the Sanctum. He kept resisting the urge to look over his shoulder: He knew that if he did that, he would see something there he didn't want to deal with nor did he have the strength. The loss of The Ancient One had left him weakened and teetering on the brink of losing the magic that had accumulated in his body. He didn't like to think about what may or may not have figured out that he was weakened as a sorcerer. He ran his hand down the door of the old London building and pushed one of them open, stepping inside with a sigh of relief as warmth washed over him of a familiar kind. That he was home, where he was at least safe for the most part.
But as he turned to close the door, he caught sight of what he had been trying to avoid looking at ever since he had portaled back from New York. There, standing on sidewalk at the base of the stairs was a tall dark figure with little to no actual details, just a distinguishing feature of being a human. His entire body turned to ice in the instant that he saw the creature raise its head to look at him and the hollowed eyes revealed themselves to him from under the hood. He immediately took action and tried to close the door so the wards would reactivate, but he wasn't quick enough, and a blast of energy sent him flying backwards with a crash into a nearby table that had the book of the original Master's history on top of it. He landed with a loud wince and the noise alerted his partner who rushed in from the other room and hovered between him and the entity that was now inside of his Sanctum.
Cloak had little to no effect on something that wasn't corporeal, but his dedication to the man that had saved his life was so strong that he was able to create a small magical barrier around him, giving his master enough time to get to his feet slowly. The poltergeist was clearly irked by this, disappearing from view and Cloak was jerked to the side, wound into a ball and thrown aside like something useless as the entity reappeared right in front of the sorcerer. The brunette tried to summon his Tao Shields, hoping to give the angered spirit something to feed off of beside himself but they fizzled out just as they ignited: He was too weak from opening the portal back to London to activate his defense.
"You are mine," the spirit growled and his whole body prickled with the darkness that dripped on the vowels of every word and the possessive nature that they held.
He didn't answer and instead threw a blast of white-hot energy at the creature to disorient it and rushed upstairs, where there was a relic of Agamotto's that could help him get the poltergeist out of the building so he could reactivate the wards. But just as he got to the doorway of the relic room, he felt himself being forced onto the ground as a heavy energy landed on his back. He let out a minor yell of pain when he hit the floor so hard that he busted his lip on his teeth. The creature was sitting on his back and growling loudly, intent as hell on taking what little energy he had left in his body to fuel its own existence so that it could continue to torment him probably. He had no idea how this bastard found him, but he needed it gone before his life force was in danger.
"Get off of me!" he finally yelled, bucking himself upwards with enough force to dislodge the creature so that he could get to his feet and back away. As he turned, the black mist now had a full form of a man with deathly white skin, wearing black robes and it was coming at him again. "Vishanti, Agamotto, anyone! Please, help me!"
The man covered his face with his arms, his knees buckled at the force of the energy rushing at him as he leaned back against the case holding the Pendulum of Agamotto. But as he prepared for the force to grab him, nothing every came. He suddenly became aware that everything around him was humming with a massive amount of energy and it was making the glass on the cases rattle as it began to vibrate. As he lowered his arms, daring to look and see what was going on, he noticed that the poltergeist was stuck in a flaming orange circle, encompassing an upwards facing triangle that had circles on the points of contact.
"Don't touch what isn't yours," a deep voice said from the air around the sorcerer.
The Sanctum's master felt his legs finally give out as the energy finally rushed past him, making him fall to the floor at the base of the case, the Pendulum now seemingly activated and trying very hard to get out of the case. The energy turned into a massive, humanoid creature that the Sanctum's master could never have even conjured up in his wildest attempts at a fantasy novel. The structure read to being human, but it was bulky like a dragon, the top half covered in fur and a thick crest of black and red feathers. The legs and tail spoke to being reptilian, a dragon or something thereof with similarly scaled hands and claw tipped fingers. Its back, rather than bearing wings, was home to six large tentacles that were spread out like a fan as if to protect him from the opposing force.
The creature's horns were tri-curled and obviously read that it was something akin to a demon from Amercan literature, as well as the six eyes on either side of the head. But if this was a demon, then why exactly had it come to his aid rather than trying to help the poltergeist devour his life energy? Just as he began to question everything that he'd learned up to this point, the glass of the case above him shattered, making him yelp and cover his head so that his face wouldn't get cut any more than his teeth had already succeeded in doing to his lip. He peeked out from under his arm and watched as the Pendulum went to the creature's hand as if it had been waiting to be called to its aid. The demon unlatched the Pendulum in the center and held the two ends up in front of its chest, making a circle appear around them in Eldritch magic. The ends of the artifact began to spin, and the echoing sounds of a clock resounded off the walls as the demon merged the two pieces of the artifact and their circles into one making a clock face appear in front of it.
He was stunned; he'd never seen anyone except his teacher be able to wield the Pendulum of Agamotto so effortlessly in all of the time he'd been in Kamar-Taj or master of the Sanctum. But his attention was drawn to the green light emanated from the demon's chest as the rush of magic merged with the circle around the poltergeist where it was thrashing and trying to get away from what was clearly it's end at the hands of this creature. Wave after wave of Time energy bashed at the entity until it finally disappeared completely in a roar of anger and flash of black mist, which faded into the air around the rings where it had been held. He watched and listened as everything subsided, giving him time to get back to his feet and look at the creature as it put the Pendulum back together and the green light disappeared. The artifact went back to its casing as if now a content guard dog ready to take a nap after running the mailman away from the door because it saw envelopes as a real threat. The sorcerer sensed no malicious intent from the demon and curiosity got the better of him, so he stepped forward, but it stepped away.
"Don't be scared," he told the creature as it seemed to wrap its arms and appendages around itself. "I'm not going to seal you, I promise. I just..don't understand why you saved me."
There was a pregnant pause and the Englishman worried that maybe it could speak his language but didn't understand it. At least, until it finally spoke, and the tone of remorse rang a very loud gong in the brunette's mind, "I never wanted you to see me like this…"
The man's mind immediately began to recall the face of the man he'd been seeing in his dreams over the last six months. After The Ancient One's funeral, he had fallen into the Dream Plains by accident, unable to stabilize his magic very well due to the immense grief he felt losing the mother of his unborn child to someone he had once considered a friend. He was found by Nightmare, an entity that ran the Dream Plains with an iron fist and was hellbent on making anyone's life miserable that fell into his territory. The entity - cruel by nature and hellbent on making misery for those who found his domain - had summoned a Bukavac, a nasty water demon that enjoyed devouring people or anything else that got too close to the water where it lived. It was something he had feared since he was a novice and had a run in with one as a child in Pakistan. Luckily for him, there was another entity wandering the Dream Plains that night who was strong enough to force both the demon and Nightmare to release him from the darkness. The man took him to his own plain of existence, which he told him was the remnants of Earth-199999, his Earth in a different branch of the Multiverse.
The man introduced himself as Doctor Stephen Strange and said that he was lucky he happened to recognize his energy as being similar to his variant from his branch and that he owed The Ancient One a huge debt for his own actions, so he was more than happy to save him as a way of making amends with the woman's spirit. He was intrigued by this man, so he inquired as to if he was alone in his world completely, to which the man confirmed. He said it was his own fault, that he hadn't listened when he was warned not to do things a certain way, but still he had, and it was his penance. The sorcerer's heart ached for the remorse in the man, so obviously shown in his face and heard in his voice for his actions that had destroyed his entire world and left him to suffer alone in silence. He knew it was risky, but without thinking twice, the master offered to be his guiding light, to try and find a way to speak with him every night so that he wouldn't be alone any longer. For a time, they spoke frequently about trivial things most times; what their frivolous interests were, what their favorite lessons had been, or which had driven them crazy when trying to learn. But as the weeks turned to months, the conversations grew more serious and deeply intimate, with him confessing to the man he'd been in love with The Ancient One and they were supposed to have a son together, but he'd been lost during the pregnancy. She'd been killed by Kaecillius, a man he'd once considered a good friend but had turned to the darker arts to try and gain power. Stephen told him of his loss of the woman he loved, Christine Palmer, and what he'd done to try and save her. The rules he broke, the Ancient One splitting him in two, only to undo all of the fail safes she'd created to prevent him from destroying their world over the woman. That was the first time he'd ever seen the man cry, but it certainly wouldn't be the last. And that same remorse was what he'd heard when the demon spoke to him just now.
"Stephen…" the sorcerer finally whispered, remembering that his voice worked. He watched in surprise as the bulky form receded in a red light and a haze of black mist, leaving the man standing there in front of him, terrified and guilt wracked. "Is that… Are those the creatures you told me about that time when we spoke?"
"I told you I was a monster," the man replied as confirmation, his body visibly trembling as if he were scared. Of what, the London Master couldn't be sure, but he had a pretty strong feeling that it was probably rejection. "It's why I didn't understand why you wanted to keep coming back. I paid my debt; you could have just left and never been the wiser. But now you… Now you see what I am. And I don't blame you for being scared."
"Oh, my darling Doctor Strange, I'm not scared of you. Just…surprised that so many entities can live in one body and not rip the host apart," the man whispered gently. He walked over and Stephen tensed, as if struggling with himself to not move. The brunette paused just long enough to see Cloak come in with a flutter of relief and rush over to latch onto his shoulders, before going back to the issue at hand. He stopped just short of the man and reached out slowly. "Strange. … Stephen, look at me."
The man didn't at first, clearly warring with himself in his head. But after a moment, he allowed himself to turn his head and look at the other sorcerer and the London Master's breath left his lungs at the sight of the tears in the man's tired eyes. He couldn't bare the idea of the man being his upset over the idea that he would leave him just because of something he'd done out of desperation to save the one he loved. Very gently, the brunette reached up and placed his hand on the man's face, cupping his cheek gently and running his thumb over the defined cheekbone. The man was still in poor health, but he certainly was doing much better than he had when they first encountered each other, though it was clear to him that he was still touch starved by the way his eyes fluttered closed and he allowed his shoulders to relax as he leaned into the touch.
"I don't want you to hate me," the man whispered, though it came out more of a whimper.
"I could never hate someone who went the extent you have to try and save the woman you loved from death," he told him, making Stephen open his eyes to look at him with worry. "It was stupid, yes, but very few men would ever have that level of dedication and I would never be able to pass judgement on you for it. It makes most of us look like cowards. You've broken yourself down so far to try and bring her back, because Fate dealt you such a terrible hand. I won't leave you, Stephen. You're safe here, you can try again, and you have my thanks for saving my life…again."
The man bowed his head, and a sob escaped his throat as he reached up, placing one hand over the other man's as he felt his body fully relax. He moved closer and kissed the demonic male's forehead gently before pressing his own against the spot, just to the side of where the man's bangs rested against the skin. He let him cry as long as he needed to, knowing they were tears of relief and joy that finally, he had found somewhere that he could call home, where he knew he wouldn't be judged for the things that he'd done or what he had become in order to accomplish them.
"Probably…" the man tried to say, but a hiccup got in the way and the smaller male chuckled as they parted. Stephen's cheeks were a little pink in response as he wiped his face dry of the tears, giving the man a good look at the Eye of Agamotto around his neck. That explained a lot. "Probably not a good idea for me to stay here though. I can't risk destroying your world by incursion."
"Well," the smaller male said thoughtfully before looking at him from the artifact resting against his chest and gave him a warm smile. "Maybe you can stay just a little longer? I don't think the Watcher is going to get mad if I give you a bath and a warm meal. You smell like sulfur and look like you're about to pass out from the power you just used to save my ass. It's the least I can do."
Stephen laughed a little and it warmed his cold heart, making him smile which the other sorcerer returned. The London Master offered him is hand and for the first time without worry as to what the consequences may be, Stephen reached out to take it and intertwined their fingers.
"I think I can live with that."
