Hospital
On the bright side, you didn’t feel like you were being watched on the way back home. You’d also inadvertently picked the facewash you were leaning more towards anyways: an organic honey and oat scrub. You had been meaning to get something like that, a subtle token to convince yourself that you were getting better at self-care. To make sure you were home all day, not knowing when Stephen would be by, you opened an app to order groceries for delivery as you walked back to the apartment. Sure, he’d said ‘tomorrow night,’ but night could mean anything depending on who you asked… Maybe Margot was right about you thinking too much. That didn’t mean you’d be answering her texts anytime soon, though.
Your list was pretty standard, but in remembering the two heathens you’d be babysitting over the coming weeks, you also chose a few grab-and-go items like instant oatmeal and pre-brewed chai to take some pressure off. It was the little things that would help you feel grounded when Loki and Darren would inevitably throw your balance off-kilter. As you slid your keycard to enter Stark Tower, you mentally recited the items you needed and scrolled through the cart on your phone. Veggies, fruits, bagels, chai, oatmeal, pads, and… Oh.
Band-Aids.
Those silly little items had taken on a much deeper meaning this week. Your thumb hovered over the trashcan next to the Band-Aids in your cart, mind wavering like a metronome over what to do with them. Keep, delete, keep, delete, keep, delete… If something happened again, you’d need them…but…Loki had done such a good job healing you. He’d seemed to enjoy it, too, insisting on fixing your mistakes both times he’d found you physically vulnerable. Was it healthy to rely on him as a form of health insurance? Would he mind repeating the favor? What if he wasn’t around one day when you really needed him? You couldn’t explain the pull you were feeling other than with one action.
Click.
The bandages vanished from your cart. It wasn’t a responsible choice, but you were at peace with that. If you survived without them before, you could survive without them next time. Not that there would be a next time, of course.
Back home, you turned your key in the door only to hear the latch shuck into place, effectively locking you out, as if you’d left the door open earlier. That was odd—you were diligent about locking up. It was a safety concern. Thinking back to that nasty cut you’d so carelessly given yourself and your overall tenseness and lack of sleep, you could only blame the new changes in your life that had been adding stress to your mush-brain. It was your fault. You needed to try harder and take better care of yourself. With an annoyed grumble, you finally unlocked the door and let yourself inside just as the phone started vibrating in your pocket.
The thought that it might be Stephen made your heart skip a beat, wondering if he was on the way already. You answered the phone without checking the caller ID.
“Hello?”
“Why haven’t you clocked in at the gym yet?”
“Oh, good lord,” you said, exasperated. “Hi, Tony.” Your shoes flew across the hall as you kicked them off.
“Your log says you’ve been in and out of the building a few times since my text. Just so we’re clear, can you tell me what you think the meaning of the word ‘ASAP’ is?”
“Dude, don’t stalk my card-swipes…Not cool. You said we weren’t worrying yet.”
“But I also said ASAP, meaning as soon as humanly possible, Peach,” Tony whined back. Glass condiment bottles clanked together in the background as his refrigerator slammed shut. “I know I’m pretty lax with you, but I figured it went without saying that dick appointments don’t come before your job.”
“Who said I had a dick appointment?” You set your keys on the counter, switching the ear your phone was against.
“Were you not with Doctor Oddball?” He asked, sounding genuinely perplexed.
“Oh, for the love of—how many fucking cameras do you have in this building?”
Tony barked out a laugh.
“I didn’t see anything,” he said, coughing lightly as if choking on a drink. That mental image made you smile. “He texted that you were there that night. Liability issue.”
“Your vested interest in my love life is starting to become a real hassle, you know…” you said. He snickered. “Mixed signals aside, I’ll start back at the gym next week. Don’t expect me to go outside of work hours.” He started to complain but you cut him off with a sharp reminder about how many different ways he was currently stretching your time and patience. After the call, you preened, feeling like you were finally settling back into your old confidence. Thank God for it; you’d finally be able to walk around Stephen with some solid footing.
He texted just as you started to wonder if he would come at all.
6:02 PM Stephen: Let me know when you’re ready. Are you ok with portals?
God damn if he wasn’t suave… Brave as you were, you had to admit to yourself that the idea of stepping through a portal with him into the Sanctum Sanctorum was terrifying. Still, you played it cool and told him that it wouldn’t be a problem at all.
Portals? Yawn. Been there, done that.
That’s what you told yourself as you dressed, fiddling with the waistband of a pair of black lace panties so they would lay just so over the arc of your hip. It couldn’t hurt to be prepared…just in case. Your hands were shaking again, reminding you how long it had been. Not only since you last came, but since you last had sex with anyone. Even though you used contraception, it was tough to make a connection that felt safe, even tougher to coordinate schedules. No one could fathom how your job would always come first. Not because you loved your job, but for your family, for the greater good. No one except Stephen Strange, perhaps.
You were just touching up your lipstick, a waxy nude shade, when there was a knock at your door. You checked your phone, which read 7:00 on the dot. Of course he was on time. So there your heart went, stuttering away underneath the form-fitting burgundy shirt you’d paired with some jeans as you trotted off to meet him. It was a v-cut, perfect to show off your tits. Nothing too provocative, just casual enough to excuse yourself, but maybe showing off your figure would help plead your case to him. Your body was worth consideration, you thought as you opened the door.
“Stephen, shame on you! You’re late!”
He gasped dramatically.
“Oh no! I must be in the wrong timeline!” He grabbed you by the shoulders, giving you a light shake. “Quick! Is this the one where everyone uses tentacles for money or where gravity goes away at night?!” You giggled as he pulled you into a hug, his willingness to be more physical helping you relax. He told you how beautiful you looked as he kissed your forehead before noting the golden baby-hoop earrings you wore. You chose not to call him out for yet again smelling your hair. It was endearing that he tried to hide it.
“Ready?” he asked, gesturing outside of your door. You nodded, pinning your lips in a tight line as you shuffled past Dr. Strange. “It’s okay to be nervous. You won’t feel a thing.”
“I’m not nervous,” you insisted as you clutched your purse. A lie. You were imagining nausea, freefalls, and landing alone in the wrong dimension with no way home, but Stephen didn’t need to know that.
“Peach, anyone could see how tense you are right now, but you forget what I can see. If that cloud around you was any thicker, you could spackle a wall with it.” He took your hand, smoothing his thumb over your knuckles as he turned to stand in front of you. “If you really aren’t comfortable, we don’t have to.”
“Are you sure?”
“Uh huh,” he hummed, using the hand he held as leverage to back you up to the door. “Why don’t we go inside and just hang out until you’re relaxed? We have all the time in the world.” His chest blocked your view of the hall as he reached behind you to grab the doorknob. He took another step, pushing your wrist against your stomach so you’d continue walking backwards.
“It’s locked,” you said, stumbling as you prepared to hit the doorknob.
He leaned in close, smirking in a way that would make your head explode if he weren’t so handsome. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he released your hand in favor of your chin, tilting it up before he kissed you.
It was overwhelming in the best way possible. He hadn’t worn cologne, his natural smell so delicate and subtle, yet completely surrounding you. His thumb stayed there on your chin, not forcing you to kiss back but insisting that yes, despite his previous rejection, he wanted you more than you could know. His hand on your face was a question, asking please, please let me do this, please stay. And his lips—so supple—willing you closer, closer, closer. You thought you might never break away from his touch. You were at peace with that.
When he pulled back, you realized you’d grabbed his collar and tried to pet it back in place as casually as possible. His presence was dizzying—you had to focus on regulating your breath.
“Welcome to the Sanctum Sanctorum,” Stephen said.
“You tricked me!” you said, stomping at him like a child.
“I had to,” he said. “You were working yourself up for no reason. Fear was getting in your way.”
“You lied,” you said, crossing your arms and hoping the hypocrisy would move him to guilt.
“Did you feel it, though?” he asked. You were quiet as you replayed the last minute in your head, getting stuck in the memory of his mouth on yours. You blinked at him. “Yeah, didn’t think so.”
You couldn’t help yourself.
“Well…I…No, because listen, you—”
“Me,” Stephen said.
“It’s not honest science if you distract me out of feeling it! Shouldn’t a doctor know better than to muddy up his experiment?”
“So, you’re my experiment now?” he said lowly. Your heart skipped a beat. “What does that mean for this little arrangement? Does dating my lab rat create a conflict of interest?” Stephen used his pointer finger to gesture a circle at you, squinting at you in feigned confusion. You frowned.
“I’m…I’m not a rat. I liked it better when you called me ‘Little Patient.’”
“You liked that?” He gave you a crooked smile. You pursed your lips to the side and nodded, suddenly feeling very shy. Stephen nodded back, like an affirmation to revive your confidence. “We can do that.”
You looked around the lobby of the grand, ancient building Stephen had stolen you off to, setting your purse on a nearby granite coffee table. Behind him was a huge staircase that flared at the bottom and narrowed as it went higher, the silhouette of it like a skirt. The railing could have been gold a long time ago but a film of dust dulled the entire room, including the various chairs and couches that were scattered around and the rings of ice-blue and clay brown tile you both stood on. Everything was worn. You could tell many souls had passed through these mystic halls before you’d arrived and many would filter through for ages after you were gone. The place looked abandoned yet elegant, like the intentional, sloppy tousle of Dr. Strange’s coiffed hair.
“What did you have planned for me?” you asked, smiling sweetly as you wrung your hands. Strange shrugged.
“Well, uh, I thought I might show you around. It’s a pretty neat place,” he said, running a hand through his hair. Your face went deadpan as the two of you stared at each other.
“You didn’t plan anything,” you said.
“I didn’t get that far!” he said, throwing his hands up.
“God, what is this? MTV Cribs?” You put your hands on your hips. “You went so far as to trick me inside and you didn’t have a plan for what comes next?!” Your eyebrows went up, eyes wide as you shook your head in disbelief, challenging your doctor. The look on his face said he didn’t have a good enough rebuttal and he knew it.
“I just wanted to spend some time with you,” he said. His shoulders drooped in defeat. “After everything that’s happened between us…I keep fucking it up. I owe you better than what I’ve given you.”
“If you’re trying to say that you’re only asking me out on dates as payment for being an ass, send me back home right now. A date is not a consolation prize, Stephen Strange, and frankly I’m a little bored with this routine.” Your cheeks were hot and tingled in frustration. “I’ve accepted your apologies, so it’s time to move forward. You have no authority to decide whether my forgiveness is valid. If you want me, then fucking have me. Otherwise, you’re wasting my time.”
“I want you,” he said. “I want you so badly. I want to deserve you first, though.”
“Do you think I’m an idiot?” You were shouting, now, but couldn’t find the will to lower your voice. Your palms pressed your temples in frustration.
“What makes y—”
“If you don’t deserve me, that’s my call to make. I would know it. I’m not fucking stupid. Quit making excuses and trust my judgement or send me home and we can forget we knew each other.”
He gaped at you. Though you didn’t have the same vision as he did, you could see the little hamster wheel behind his eyes going about sixty miles an hour for his next answer. You crossed your arms, leaving the choice in his gnarled, magnificent hands. His mouth snapped shut. The muscles in his jaw flexed.
“Come to bed with me,” he said, squeezing his hands into fists.
“So that’s what you’ve decided?” You jutted your hip out, leaning on your right heel. You were still pissed; it was impossible not to test his patience. He didn’t say a word, raising his fingers to point over your shoulder as he cast a portal. It whooshed to life behind you (a sound you must’ve missed the first time) and that’s when Stephen started stomping towards you.
“You want to be my ‘little patient’?” he mocked, his voice alluring yet threatening. He was face to face with you now and giving you one last chance to change your mind before he backed you into another portal going God knows where. Your heart was pounding, adrenaline rushing down your spine. You nodded.
In one quick motion, he put a hand behind your head and another at the small of your back, forcing one bent knee between your thighs. He used his chest to give the final push, sending you both through. You were falling. Hair rushed over your face, a gust of wind chilling the back of your neck. Before you could scream, you landed. Stephen was on top of you, his arms and hands like a protective frame, using his knee to support his weight. When he took his hands from under your head, you realized there were pillows under you. You were in his bed.
“Welcome to the hospital,” he purred.
You had to catch your breath as Stephen fought to decide where he was starting. Your doctor was in a frenzy. He took your left ankle, halfway pulling off your shoe, before changing his mind and jolting forward to fidget with the button of your jeans. You put your hand on his wrist and he startled. His eyes flashed up at you and he pounced, pulling you into a stiff, forceful kiss. You pushed your hand against his chest. His attention quickly turned to the hem of your shirt which he began rolling up.
“Hey, hey,” you said, shoving a little harder. He leaned back, panting. The back of his fist wiped over his lips as though he’d been punched. You squeezed his shoulder. “I’m here.”
“I want you,” he said.
“I know, I’m here. We’re okay,” you said, nodding to reassure him.
“I want you,” he moaned, his voice rough and shaky. His brows were scrunched as he squeezed his eyes shut. He was blushing, you realized, in embarrassment.
“You can have me,” you said softly.
“It’s been a while,” he admitted. He gulped. His hands were nearly vibrating from how hard they trembled. “I may have a hard time—”
“It’s okay.”
“—reeling myself in… You have to understand, my abilities give me so much more energy than most people have. It’s…profoundly more difficult to work it out of my system. This may take a while.”
His warning sent chills down your body. You didn’t know what to say, so you waited for him.
“If you need me to stop, for any reason, ‘ten’ is the word. You can count up from one if you need me to start backing off or change something.”
You swallowed.
“Do you understand? Is this okay?” He sounded hoarse, desperate. He didn’t want to start if it would be too intense for you. It was as if he didn’t know how far his body would need to take him.
“Yes,” you said, your voice small. You felt the need to stretch. The excitement and anticipation was building up in your bones. He sighed in relief, leaning back in to try again.
This kiss was light as cotton. Tender. Cautious. Stephen’s hands, still shaking, found your cheeks. Their hold was softer than butter. He just wanted to keep your face there so he could kiss without you moving, again, again, again, barely leaving a gap for breath. His left hand slipped behind your neck, locking you in as his tongue grazed your bottom lip. You opened for him with a sigh, allowing the kiss to become sloppy as you melted into his touch. Your hands searched for a good place to settle. He groaned into your mouth when your palms ran over his back and across his chest.
Ugh…You loved that. Would do anything to hear that noise again. You kept your hands there on his chest, giving a little press to remind him where you were. He took your lower lip between his teeth and tugged ever so slightly, sighing at your touch. You knew if you worked a little harder you could coax another moan from him. The thought alone made you gush.
He moved to kiss along your jawline and down your neck, biting softly between kisses. You hissed at the sensation, the warmth of his mouth against the stinging bites and then coldness as he moved away to the next spot. You leaned your head back, offering him access as he licked and sucked. His right hand slipped under your back, tightening around your waist like a boa constrictor to force you even closer to him. You tilted your hips up, gasping when you found his thigh and felt him anchor against the mattress so you could grind against him.
“That’s it,” he said, nibbling your collarbone. “Let me hear you.”
You let out an airy laugh—it seemed you both were on the same mission. You were out of words now, just whining as you used his thigh as leverage to get off. Your cunt was getting wetter as you felt yourself sliding against your own panties. A wave of heat rushed into your chest, your pussy growing desperate for something real. Stephen’s hands moved to your breasts, cupping just under them.
“Please,” he panted.
“Yes,” you said, though unsure what you were agreeing to. Strange growled in approval, restless hands rushing under your shirt to rip it off. He went for your bra clasp. The band snapped against your back four times as he fumbled with it, growing more frantic with each failure, until you stopped him.
“I got it, I got it,” you insisted as you sat up, sounding as feverish as him. As your arm hooked behind your back to unclasp your bra, Stephen worked your jeans. He yanked them down, dragging you along so you fell back again. The air was knocked out of your lungs. You laughed, finally tossing your bra to the side. He was still frantically trying to strip the tight fabric from your legs, totally focused. You imagined being in the E.R. on a gurney with Stephen working over you. Maybe then he’d resort to simply cutting the damned things off. He’d surely done it before. Before you could finish the fantasy, he threw your pants so hard behind him that they made an audible snap against the wall.
“The next time you wear those, I’ll fucking burn them,” he said. You nodded, trying to catch your breath. You watched his gaze flicker down to your chest before his brows furrowed, mouth hanging open. “Oh my god…So fucking pretty.” His right hand reached for your breast, his fingers so delicate as they skimmed over your nipple. Your breath hitched. He hissed as he watched it harden before sliding his hand down to cup your tit, giving it a firm squeeze. You could only imagine the focus he needed to keep his insatiable, marred hands that still.
“Fuck,” he hissed. His free hand ran down your side and began mapping out your belly. “Your body is gorgeous.” His thumb, as if on its own accord, was tracing circles over your nipple. Each round sent an electric pulse of pleasure to your cunt. Your clit was throbbing now. You hoped that the torture of waiting wasn’t what he meant when he said this may take a while. Your hips rolled in search of relief. Stephen ignored you, knowing he would be able to tire you out without any help. Now he was caressing both of your breasts, your back helpless and arching into his touch.
“May I lick them?” he said. His rasp was so firm and calm compared to the hushed craze he was in moments ago, and you shuddered to think how much control he was forcing over himself just to seem put together. All you could do was groan and puff your chest out, somehow managing to hollow towards him even more as he dipped his head down to your collarbone. He kissed and licked in a practiced line down the left side until he found your nipple. Strange breathed over it, teasing, before kissing around the bottom curve of your breast. He repeated the same on the right side. The heat of his breath fanning out over the most sensitive part of your chest made your pussy flutter. It was agonizing.
Stephen moved back to the left side, kissing just around your nipple one, two, three times before finally setting his tongue loose over the hardened bud. You gasped ragged breaths, fisting the sheets as his tongue smoothed over them, pushing them in before drawing them back into his mouth. He took turns, spending a few moments on one side before switching to the other, head swerving back and forth over the valleys of your tits like a drunk driver. He was wasted on your taste, your scent, and he hadn’t even made it to the best part.
Then it was the teeth. He dragged them over your nipples with precision, rolling them between his teeth with a tender bite before kissing an apology, licking the hurt away. His hands gripped your waist like guard rails, holding you solid in place. You could tell he was using your sounds as a gauge, waiting until you moaned deep enough, right on the edge of actual pain, before pulling back. He toyed with you like this until you were writhing under him, holding the back of his head so he would provide that delicious torture to your nipples for longer. You were getting lost in the pleasure. That was his cue to start working his way down.
Strange’s hands slid behind your thighs, pushing them up so he could open you as he lowered himself to face your clothed pussy. He rested your legs over his shoulders, circling his arms around your thighs as he kissed down the inner sides of them.
Finally he was there where you craved him most. The only thing between Stephen and your cunt was a thin strip of lace that you’d grown to soak and resent as he teased you. He breathed over it as he did your chest, letting the heat of his lungs stoke the fire that had you squirming and bucking to meet his lips.
“Easy,” he whispered. He leaned in, pressing his nose right against where your clit was, and breathed in deeply, taking in your scent. Your whine was staggered, devastating. “You’re still learning, Peach. You’ll know better than to wear all those clothes next time, won’t you?” He nuzzled in, using his nose to tease your clit through the panties.
“Uh huh,” you moaned, pushing your hips up to meet him. “M’ sorry…”
“Aww,” he mocked. “Be patient, Little Patient. I’ll fix you up.” He pressed a kiss over your panties, the lava-like heat making you groan again and toss your head back. Stephen hooked his fingers in, pulling your panties up, but your unmasked scent must have hit him harder than he’d expected. He was able to hold his composure until your thong was at your knees before he shuddered like a feral beast and licked a stripe up your slit. You gasped, grabbing at the blankets, looking for anything to hold you right there. His hips rocked against the bed.
That’s when Strange cracked, holding your ankles up with one hand so he could keep tasting you. He wiggled his tongue between your pussy lips, having to pry his way in now that your legs were bound shut by your panties. He didn’t care; he wasn’t willing to waste any more time not tasting you.
The noises he made were fucking obscene. You could hear him inhaling between licks, guzzling your scent. He sounded like a man having his first meal in weeks as he drank you down, his moans riddled with hunger, satisfaction, relief. Meanwhile, he thrusted an even pace against the bed to offer himself some release.
“God,” he said, punctuating each word with another firm strike of his tongue across your nub. “Juicy…delicious…fucking…peach…” He sucked on you as if you weren’t wet enough already, drawing any slick he could from your hole before dragging it all up with his tongue to bathe your clit.
You couldn’t see his face past the wall your legs made, but the tops of your thighs came to push against your belly as he continued lapping at you, his hands now locked behind your knees for leverage. You could finally reach your thong and pulled it the rest of the way off, tossing it aside before spreading your legs for your doctor.
“Mmph,” he groaned into your pussy. “Thank you.”
His tongue laved over your clit, sending tingling embers low in your belly. Stephen’s hands tightened around you as he found the pressure and pace that made your moans become spaced out and breathy. You were focusing on that feeling: the burning pressure of your clit swelling, your hole clamping down on open space as it flooded for him, your muscles gathering in anticipation. Suddenly, you were noticing the creases in the sheets, the gaps between the pillows. Every inch of your body was becoming sensitive to the sensations around you. His attention was almost too much. Numbing, yet electric. Overstimulating.
“Stephen…” you breathed, working your hips away from his face. “Unh…”
He pulled away just long enough to speak.
“What is it?” he said, not hesitating to dive back down to suckle on your clit. You jolted and arched back again, unable to hold back the moan.
“Three,” you rasped, grating your nails over the sheets.
“Three? Okay…” He started backing off, still washing over you with his tongue but with much less force. “What do you need?”
“I want to cum…”
“You can cum, honey,” he said. Now he was sitting up on his heels, using his left hand to brush light circles over your clit. “Talk to me… Guide me through it. What do you need?”
“Your c-cock…please, God, I can’t t-take it anymore,” you panted, your thighs trembling around him. His smirk was devastating as he looked down at you, who shivered at just the sweep of his knuckles over your pussy.
“Mmn…Yeah, okay,” he agreed. He stopped touching you for just long enough to strip himself and leaned back over you. You looked down to his cock, so pretty, and his body all flushed and pink with exhilaration. He pumped it slow with one hand—that thick, gorgeous, tan shaft until just beyond the middle, where it turned rosy up to the head. Stephen bucked into his palm. He kissed you again when he ran the head of his cock between your slit. You sighed into his mouth, rolling your hips up to feel a cool bead of precum leak over your clit.
“You ready for me?” he teased, smirking into the crook of your neck, planting gentle kisses over the hickeys he’d left earlier as he lined himself up. You nodded, raking a hand through his hair while the other held his shoulder.
“Give it to me,” you begged. He slid in. Your pussy involuntarily constricted around him when he reached the hilt.
“Mmm…Unh, my Peach…”
He rocked into you slowly, not wanting to push you past your ‘three’. He moved his arms to hold you as he fucked you. The only way you could move out of his grasp was if you asked for it. Strange kept his face tucked into your neck, sucking another hickey right above your collarbone. His cock fit you so well, stretching you in ways you forgot possible, mindlessly hitting spots you fought to soothe when you were on your own. Stephen’s grip on you was equally arousing and comforting. It was nice to not have to worry about where he wanted you or squirming away and somehow ruining things. The cradle of him kept you in position so you could please him just as much as he was pleasing you.
Each time he entered you, it was a gasp, a grunt, a moan, a whine. Your sounds melded in with his heaving breaths as you found yourself holding him tighter and tighter, with your hands, legs, and your cunt. Stephen took a leisurely pace. He’d pull out; you’d inhale. As he rolled back in, cock polishing itself against your g-spot before resting at your cervix, you’d shudder as weight of his body and the force of his dick crushed another pathetic sound out of you.
“How’s that?” he asked. He was trying to sound collected but you could hear the way he ground his teeth.
“S-so good,” you said. “Y-you can—unh! Fucking… God… F-faster is good t-too… Shit…”
“Yeah?” He sped up a little, the snap of his hips making pretty little slapping sounds against your ass. You could feel your body opening even more for him, his angle perfect to ram into your most sensitive spots. The pleasure rang like a gong through your core, loud and starry, familiar yet foreign, sapping up all your attention. You sounded ravenous now as you groaned for him, scratching up his back to ask for something you couldn’t think to name. Stephen chuckled at you, pulling out and unwrapping your legs from his waist so he could turn you over.
He put you in child’s pose like the yoga connoisseur he was: face down, ass up, your thighs supporting your belly. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful…” He placed a hand between your shoulder blades, pinning you against the bed as he slipped back in. That was what you were looking for… Now you were screaming. Your hand shot out, palm pressing against the headboard. You needed to make sure you stayed right fucking there as your doctor railed into you. When Stephen saw this, trusting you wouldn’t move, he groped your hips, snapping into you as if losing control over himself. He hunched over to press a kiss at your spine.
“Oh—oh my God,” you panted. “F-fucking pound into me. J-just like that…”
“Yeah? That’s what you wanted? That’s why you’ve been mouthing off to me, huh? Just n-needed someone to beat some sense into that precious little cunt…”
You shuddered, moaning in return. His hand snaked around front to find your clit, rubbing tight little circles against you until you were bucking and writhing against his hand. The damned nub was so swollen you thought you might burst. You squeezed your eyes shut, gritting your teeth as the pleasure started gathering in your belly.
“Ohh, I know. Feels so good, doesn’t it? That’s the f-fuckin’ spot, right?” Stephen teased, swirling his fingertips faster over you. You scratched the headboard, feeling the pressure well up in your g-spot as if you might squirt.
“My tight Little Patient,” he groaned. “Beautiful body…You take—ohhshit—take my cock so well.”
You growled into your throat, keeping your mouth clamped shut as you focused on your approaching orgasm.
“No one will hear you, honey,” Stephen said, suddenly sounding compassionate. “Let it out.” He ran one hand up and down your back in a soothing way, still petting your clit into submission. You let out a pained gasp, feeling yourself so close, teetering precariously on the edge to oblivion.
“That’s it,” he purred. “Let me take it, Little Patient. Atta girl.”
That was all it took. You hollered, smacking a clenched fist into the headboard as the explosion of your orgasm rattled your body. Every muscle in your frame shook itself loose, white-hot, as Stephen’s cock continued to bully your sensitive pussy, which shivered around his girth. He was encouraging you, but you could barely hear him through the buzz of your pleasure. His hand stayed there, cupping as you ground your clit against his fingertips. You’d finally rode out your pleasure, but Stephen continued pumping himself into you.
The squelching sound of your arousal coating his cock brought you back to reality.
“Oh…Stephen…” you said with a sigh.
“I’m close… Please… Please, I just…I want…one for me, at least…” he hissed through his teeth. “I can go for m-more though.”
“Take it. Use me,” you plead, looking back over your shoulder. He threw his head back, veins in his neck flexing out in a rage. His fingers kneaded your ass as he corrected his hold. His hips set a punishing pace and though your body was tired, it still felt so fucking good, even better knowing he was using you to get off. Stephen let out a strained gasp as his cum flooded you, stuttered strokes marking his peak. He slowed and then pushed into you again…again…
And…
Again.
Then he pulled out. He was still hard as he laid down next to you. You were cozy, sated, and sleepy as you snuggled up next to your doctor. Some sober part of you was amazed at how much that single orgasm quenched your want. His arms wrapped around you and as your ass made contact with his dick, he couldn’t stop himself from rutting against you.
“A-are you okay…?” you asked. “Do you need more?” You tried to disguise the way your legs quivered from the exhaustion.
“If you don’t stop me, I won’t stop… I can feel that you’re done, Peach. It’s okay to be done.” He kissed the back of your neck and hugged you from behind. “You did so good. Gorgeous woman… How can I live now that I know that exists? How have I stayed out of you for this many years?”
You laughed.
“Why don’t you just…I don’t know, put me to sleep or something? Figure it out, Doctor… Keep using me…” you said, wiggling your hind against his still-hard cock. “Use this pretty pussy until you wear yourself out. I’ll be okay… I can take it.”
“Is that what you want…? Is that okay…?” he said. The rest of his body was tense now. He was restraining himself.
“Uh huh,” you promised. “I trust you.”
“Fuck…” he groaned, grinding against you again, painting your plush rear with the slick left on his cock. “Such a good girl.” He rolled you onto your back, staring deep into your eyes as he explained what was coming. “The spell I will have to use, it’s like a haze. It’ll fog you up, keep you nice and relaxed until I’m done with you. You won’t really be aware of what I do with you…Like an out of body experience. It could make you fall asleep, too…”
“Doctor,” you said sternly. “Use my body until you are done.”
He nodded, finally accepting your consent as his hands cast a signal.
“By the Vapors of Valtorr,” he started. You didn’t hear the rest, consumed by the pleasant haze that erupted from his fingertips. A grey mist filled your vision. It swelled into your lungs and you hummed, closing your eyes. All you could see through the fog was the memory of his gaze, those piercing blue eyes. You just barely felt some pressure below, like a tickle, before realizing that it was Stephen slipping back into you. Whether your eyes were opened or closed, still you saw his eyes staring back at you. His watch kept you grounded to reality. If you focused reallyhard you were aware of him pounding mercilessly into your cunt, your muscles shivering instinctually, but sensed none of it within yourself. You could hear him groaning relief through the void. Precious girl, pretty pussy, so fucking tight, fill this cunt, that’s it squeeze my cock, all filtering through the blurred wall guarding your mind. It was like your body was in the doctor’s office and you were in the waiting room while he completed his exams behind closed doors.
In reality, your pussy had a chokehold on Doctor Strange’s cock. He slammed into you for hours, your numb little body writhing under him, occasionally jerking as you came again and again, but your consciousness stayed trapped in the haze you’d requested from him. He carved himself into you, holding you tight, so tight, as he came and came and came. Your cum mingled with his, gushing out all over the bed as he drove in. As he realized he was fucking his seed into you, his cock throbbed impossibly harder. It was ok if his sheets were ruined. Fuck, he’d throw the entire mattress away if it meant he could stay burrowed in your body, burrowed within your mind, as your consciousness ogled him in blissful confusion.
Yes—he was in your mind with you, watching, though you didn’t realize it, imagining those blue eyes were a signature of the spell. The motives were pure. He only wanted to make sure you felt safe and comfortable. The moment you didn’t, he would know and be able to pull you right out.
Though he thought it would be ages before you two used a spell like this during sex, it was nice to have your blessing to learn your body, to feel what made you clench and soak, without your rampant thoughts getting in the way of your enjoyment. With each thrust, he was studying. Next time, when you were fully conscious, it would be effortless. He’d be able to wring the cum out of you until you could feel your climax in your teeth.
He came hardest when he watched you fall asleep, recognizing the level of trust you and your body had placed in him. Gorgeous girl, he thought. He silently vowed to honor that trust. He would take care of you physically and mentally as long as you allowed him in. In your sleep, you continued to cum for him, though your orgasms were harder to come by as your body truly tired out, having gone far beyond what you thought yourself capable of when awake.
You stayed asleep in the vapors for a while, but Strange continued watching you both in fog and flesh, his focus on your comfort riding along with his search for pleasure. He came one last time when the eyes of your consciousness blinked awake at him, just as vibrant as they were in real life.
“I’m still under?” you thought.
“Yes,” he replied. “Are you okay? We can be done.”
You startled at the surprise, screeching horror in your mind, not having expected those eyes that were watching you all this time to speak back. Your body twitched and heaved. Flight response.
“It’s okay, it’s me, it’s me. Let’s get you out of there, honey,” he soothed. “Such a good girl.”
He pulled the spell off of you and slipped himself out. As you re-entered your body, the grey fog cleared. You could see again. You could feel. You groaned, feeling just how much he’d used you. Everything was warm, numb, throbbing, raw. If your body was a wet dishrag, Stephen had twisted you dry. He was checking over you just like a good doctor should, making sure all your parts were in place and functional, kissing each exhausted limb and joint as he crossed it off his list. Even now that the sex was over, he stayed worshiping your body, obsessing over every stitch of skin until he was sure you were okay. He was still talking to you, whispering praise and reassurance, but you were too out of it to focus on what he was saying. Suddenly you realized he was saying the same thing repeatedly. He wanted your attention.
“Uhh?” you grumbled, blinking until your eyes focused in the dim room.
“Would you like to sleep here or go home?” he asked, fingers trailing gently over your arm. He was straddling you, finished with his post-coital checkup.
“Mm…I don’t know…Umm…Home, please? Or here…It’s okay. I’m happy.”
“Alright, sweet Peach. You did so good. Let’s get you home, then…You won’t feel a thing,” he said. You sighed, closing your eyes again when you heard a portal whir to life. When he spoke, you could hear his smirk. “Well…You won’t feel the trip back home. I’m going to let you keep feeling me, though.”
You didn’t respond but pursed your lips. Stephen Strange gave you one final kiss before cradling your body and setting it on the other side of the portal. You recognized the smell of your own sheets as you sunk into bed. The room was silent. You were alone. You felt…so good.