#dark! doctor strange

[chaoticforever]

Where The Path Led | Yandere Stephen Strange x Male! Reader

Summary: Who thought having sex with Doctor Strange would cause the man to become very obsessive and delusional?

Y/n stirred groggily, a throbbing headache pulsing in time with his heartbeat. He blinked his eyes open, squinting against the harsh morning light streaming through the window. The brightness only added to his discomfort, and he felt a wave of nausea wash over him. The room spun slightly, and he had to close his eyes again to steady himself.

After a few deep breaths, he cautiously opened his eyes again, this time letting them adjust to the bright light. As his vision cleared, he turned his head to the right, wincing at the sharp pain from his neck. That's when he noticed something that made his heart skip a beat or two.

This wasn't his room.

It took him a moment to register that he also was not alone. An arm was draped casually across his waist, belonging to someone still deeply asleep. Following the arm up, Y/n recognized the face — it was his colleague, Stephen Strange. The man looked peaceful sleeping, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The sight of Stephen lying next to him sent a rush of memories flooding back to Y/n.

The night before, Y/n had gone to a bar in the city, intent on drowning himself in alcohol. He had discovered yesterday that Marcus, his boyfriend of two years, had been cheating on him. The betrayal stung deeply, and he needed an escape. He wanted to forget, if only for one night.

And that's when Stephen had appeared. Noticing Y/n's somber mood, he joined him at the bar. The two men had shared drinks and danced together. Before they knew it, they ended up back at Stephen's place, and one thing had led to another.

Now, Y/n thought back to that moment with a sense of regret. He hadn't wanted to sleep with anyone; he had just wanted a night to forget his issues. Carefully, he eased himself out of Stephen's embrace, holding his breath and slipping out from under the covers. Spotting his clothes scattered on the floor, he began to dress quietly, wincing at the rustling fabric. He located his phone and keys in one of the pockets and quietly left Stephen's home.

Upon returning to his apartment, Y/n made a beeline for the bathroom. The cool water on his face felt amazing, but he knew he looked and felt like a mess. He vowed to himself that he wouldn't indulge in such heavy drinking again.

Going to the kitchen, Y/n began making this hangover remedy his dad had often made for him back in his early twenties. Y/n didn't think he would need it again, but it turns out that he did. As he mixed the ingredients, his phone rang and saw that Mercedes was calling. He answered.

"Hey, Mercedes."

"Hi, Y/n," Mercedes' cheerful voice came through. "So, what did you get up to last night? Drinking liquor at a bar, perhaps?"

Y/n blinked, because how did she just— "Uh, how'd you know that I went out to a bar last night? I didn’t tell you about that."

"I heard from Juan," his friend explained. "Said that he saw you at Charley's bar, getting wasted. He also mentioned that he saw you leave with someone — a tall male with black hair and a goatee. Did you hook up with somebody last night?"

Y/n sighed as he poured the remedy into a cup. "I did. I slept with my colleague, Stephen. It was a drunk hookup though, nothing more, and It won't happen again."

"And why won't it happen again?"

"To be honest, I don't like Stephen in that way," Y/n replied, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. "And after finding out about Marcus, I don't feel like dating or hooking up with anyone for a while."

"I understand," Mercedes' voice was soft. "Take all the time you need to heal but don't let Marcus' actions hold you back. He doesn't deserve your time or energy."

Y/n smiled. Mercedes always knew the right thing to say to make him feel better.

"Thank you, Mercedes," Y/n said gently. "Listen, I'm going to hop in the shower, but we can talk later. Tell Sam I said hi."

"Will do! Talk to you later, n/n," Mercedes responded before the call disconnected.

Y/n placed his phone on the charger and headed for the shower, hoping the warm water would soothe his aching body and clear his mind after the chaotic night he experienced and a challenging morning.

XXXXX XXXXX

Monday morning arrived, and Y/n woke up feeling refreshed and surprisingly energetic, considering the events of the past few days. He had spent the rest of his weekend relaxing in the living room and briefly chatting with his dad on the phone. It felt like he had finally gotten a good night's rest, and the absence of a killer headache was a welcome bonus.

The male stretched his arms above his head and yawned, feeling the satisfying crack of his joints. He whistled softly to himself as he went through his morning routine, preparing for the long day ahead.

As he drove to the hospital, his thoughts drifted back to his night with Stephen. A flush crept up his neck, thinking back to their sexual encounter. Even though they worked in different areas of the hospital— Y/n as an immunologist and Stephen as a neurosurgeon — they still often saw one another. Y/n wondered if the man in question would bring up what happened between them. He hoped he'd agree to forget about the situation and move on.

When he entered the familiar halls of the hospital, Y/n greeted his colleagues with a smile and nodded to familiar faces. He made his way to the staff lounge for that much-needed cup of coffee because his appointments were back-to-back, and he knew the caffeine would be essential to getting through the day. The lounge was empty as he poured the liquid into a cup.

And then:

A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Good morning, Y/n," that was Stephen's voice. Stephen's arms wrapped around Y/n's body, planting a hand on his chest. Y/n's breath hitched as Stephen planted hot, wet kisses on the back of his neck. "You were really amazing last night, you know?" Stephen nipped at Y/n's earlobe. "We definitely got to recreate that, huh?"

Y/n’s breathing hitched. He couldn’t deny that Stephen’s lips felt amazing against his skin, but he really needed to talk to him to make sure they were on the same page. And seeing how this guy was sucking on the back of his neck, It's clear that they weren’t on the same page.

Y/n turned around in Stephen's embrace, stopping the kisses and taking one step back. "Stephen, we need to talk," he said.

The man in question, on the other hand, shook his head. "Later. I want to make love to you again. Right here, right now."

His hand reached forward, palming Y/n's erection with his fingers. This caused Y/n to take two steps back, needing to put a sizable distance between them. There was no way they could do anything here, especially in a hospital where they could be walked in on at any given moment.

Stephen looked annoyed as he took two steps forward, placing his hand on Y/n’s shoulder. "What is there to talk about?"

Y/n took a deep breath in, gathering his thoughts together. "Look, man, last night was — it was a mistake. A good mistake, but still a mistake. We were drunk, and—"

Stephen's eyes narrowed, and his grip on Y/n's shoulders tightened. "A mistake?" he repeated, his voice dangerously quiet. "Is that truly how you feel?"

Y/n's heart stilled as he saw a flash of something dark in the surgeon's eyes. It was only a fleeting moment, but it was enough to send a chill down his spine. Still, he needed to get these words out. 

"Yes," Y/n said softly. "We should forget it. You know, pretend it never happened."

For a long moment, Stephen didn't voice anything, gray eyes fixed on Y/n’s face. Y/n honestly didn’t know what Stephen was going to say, but he just hoped that he didn’t blow up in his face or be upset with him. Then, slowly, he released Y/n’s shoulder and took a step back, grinning.

"Alright Y/n. If that's what you want, then we will pretend that it never happened." 

The h/c-haired doctor nodded, internally sighing in relief that Stephen understood where Y/n was coming from "Thanks for being so understanding. We should both probably get to work right about now." 

Stephen offered a small smile and opened the door for Y/n, who thanked him and left the lounge. Stephen headed to his office on the fourth floor, while Y/n headed to his office on the third floor.

Booting up his computer, the h/c haired doctor pulled up his patients' files and began reviewing them, preparing for the long appointments. His first patient was a young girl named Sarah, and he took a moment to familiarize himself with her medical history before her appointment.

Exactly at nine o'clock, there was a soft knock on the door. "Come in," Y/n called out. The door opened to reveal a brown-skinned muscular man and a young girl with brown hair and brown eyes peeking out from behind him. Y/n acknowledged the man's attractiveness but shook off the thought since it wasn't appropriate.

"Good morning, Mr. Flynn. Please, come in," Y/n said, offering them a warm smile and extending his hand for him to shake, "I'm Dr. L/n, but feel free to call me Y/n."

"Nice to meet you, sir," Jesse responded, shaking Y/n’s hand and stepping inside. the office, guiding his daughter forward. "This right here is my daughter, Sarah. She's a bit shy, so please bear with her."

"It's nice to meet you, Sarah," Y/n knelt down to the girl's eye level. "You can call me Y/n, too. No need for formalities." He patted on the examination table. "Take a seat here, and we can have a little chat?"

The young girl nodded silently and climbed up onto the examination table, her eyes darting around the room. Jesse took a seat in the empty chair next to his daughter as Y/n began the examination.

"Sarah, your dad explained to me on the phone last week that you've been having tummy aches lately. Can you talk to me about that?" Y/n's voice was friendly.

She twisted her hands in her lap. Then, in a small voice, she spoke, "My tummy hurts sometimes, and I don't know why."

Y/n nodded understandingly. "That must be scary. Can you tell me where it hurts? Does it hurt all the time or sometimes?"

Sarah pointed to her mid-region. "It hurts right here and it usually hurts after I eat."

"I see," Y/n murmured, making a note on her chart. "Okay, I'm going to take a look and see if I can figure out what might be causing you to have these tummy pains."

Sarah nodded, her hand reaching out for her father's hand, and Jesse held it.

Y/n proceeded to perform a gentle examination, taking care to explain each step to both Sarah and Jesse. He asked additional questions about Sarah’s diet, any recent changes in her routine, and any other symptoms she experienced.

When the exam was over, Y/n concluded that Sarah was likely experiencing some digestive issues, possibly due to a mild food intolerance. He suggested dietary changes for her and an over-the-counter prescription to help soothe her stomach.

"Thank you, Y/n," relief was present in Jesse’s voice. "We really appreciate your help. Sarah hasn't been well lately, and we wanted to make sure she was okay."

Y/n waved off the thanks. "It's my job. I'll send the prescription to your pharmacy, and you can pick it up tomorrow. Try the prescriptions for a couple of weeks, and if she shows no signs of improvements, we'll discuss further steps." He reached into his candy drawer and offered Sarah a lollipop. "And here's a lollipop for being the most amazing patient I've ever had!"

A smile appeared on Sarah’s face as she took the candy from him. "Thanks, Y/n!"

"You're welcome. It was nice meeting you and I hope that you feel better soon."

Jesse and Sarah exited the room, and Y/n began sending Sarah's prescription to her pharmacy. Just as he finished, there was another knock banging on his door.

"Come in," he called out, expecting one of the nurses or maybe his next patient.

To his surprise, it was Jesse who poked his head into the room. "Sorry to bother you, Y/n. I just realized I left my jacket here," he walked over to the chair where he was sitting and picked up the jacket.

"It's no problem at all," Y/n assured him.

Jesse slipped his arms into the sleeves of his jacket and turned toward the door. Just as he was about to exit, he paused and turned back, as if to say something.

"Listen," Jesse began. "I know this might be a bit forward, but I wanted to ask: do you have a special someone in your life?"

Y/n's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He hadn't expected this line of questioning, but he supposed it was not uncommon for patients' family members to become curious about their doctors' private lives. He wasn't sure about telling his patient's father that he likes dudes since he didn’t know his stance on same-sex couples, but something compelled him to tell him.

"Well," he chose his words thoughtfully. "to answer your question, no, there's no special someone in my life. There used to be a guy but he lost that title privilege."

Jesse nodded, taking a step closer to Y/n's desk. "Interesting. So, if I were to ask you to join me for dinner tomorrow, what are the chances that you would say yes?"

Y/n's heart skipped a beat, and he found himself momentarily at a loss for words. He had not expected this turn of events. Jesse was a handsome dude, no doubt, and seemed like a good guy. Y/n would be down for it, but the timing wasn't right.

"Oh, I'm flattered, Jesse. Truly," Y/n said sincerely, voraciously, "But to be honest, I just got out of a two-year relationship, and I'm not looking to date right now."

Jesse's face fell, but he gave a nod. "I get it. It's too bad I didn't meet you three years ago. Have a good rest of your day."

Jesse turned the doorknob and left Y/n's office. Y/n watched him go, intrigued by his forwardness. He wondered when the next time they'd see one another again.

And Y/n found his question answered by the time Valentine’s Day rolled around. However, not only did he find the answer to his question but he found a revelation as well, a scary discovery about Stephen.

As Y/n sat in his office, writing notes, he heard a knock on the door. He called out for the individual to come in, but instead received another knock. A bewildered expression crossed Y/n's face as he got up to open the door himself, only to find no one outside. However, he spotted a bouquet of roses and a box of expensive chocolates, each with a note attached.

The note attached to the roses said, "For my one true love, Y/n. I can't wait to see you again soon. -Stephen." The note on the chocolates read, "To sweeten your day, my love." There was a heart under it.

Confusion painted a portrait on his face. It seemed as though Stephen believed they were in a relationship, despite Y/n's clear indication that he wanted to forget about their one night together. Y/n knew he needed to set the record straight and speak to Stephen as soon as possible.

His opportunity came during lunchtime when he was sitting at one of the tables outside. Stephen approached and took a seat next to him without asking, greeting Y/n politely and inquiring about his day.

A forced smile appeared on Y/n's face. "It's going well, thank you. And yours?"

"Wonderful, now that I see you," Stephen replied, reaching over to take Y/n's hand in his own. "Did you get the flowers and chocolates I sent? I know you like roses."

Y/n nodded slowly. "Yes, I did, and—"

"Shh, Y/n," Stephen interrupted, pressing a finger to Y/n's lips and running it over his bottom lip. "No need to thank me. That's what good boyfriends do."

Y/n's eyes widened because what the—? Did he just hear that correctly? Stephen thought that they were— "B-Boyfriends?" 

Stephen smiled and planted a kiss on Y/n's cheek, his fingers running over Y/n's knuckles. "Yes, boyfriends. You and I, of course. Where do you want me to take you for Valentine's Day dinner tonight? I know this amazing Italian restaurant—"

"Stop," he removed Stephen's hand from his and held up his own hand. "Look, I think you've got the wrong impression. We aren't boyfriends; we're not dating."

"And why is that?" Stephen questioned, scooting closer to Y/n in his chair. "We had sex, Y/n. That makes you mine now."

At that moment, Y/n realized that something was seriously wrong with Stephen. His insistence that they were dating, despite Y/n's clear rejection, was an obvious sign of delusion. Y/n knew he had to be firm and stand his ground.

Y/n shook his head. Why wasn't Stephen getting it? "I'm not yours. At all. We only had a night together. I am not interested in pursuing anything further. I don't want to be with you. Do you understand that?"

Stephen's jaw clenched, and for a split second, Y/n saw a dangerous flash in his gray eyes. Then, Stephen pushed the table away and stormed off, muttering something about Y/n being ungrateful.

Y/n let out a sigh, feeling drained by the conversation. He hoped Stephen would finally understand and leave him alone.

But Y/n really didn’t feel like working for the rest of the day, so he took the rest of the day off and asked his secretary to reschedule his remaining patients.

As he made his way to the parking lot, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He was half expecting it to be Stephen, but he was relieved to find Jesse standing there.

"Oh, wassup, Jesse. What are you doing here? Is everything alright with Sarah?"

"Yes, she's doing much better, thanks to you. The pills you recommended worked well," he responded. "I actually wanted to talk to you about something else."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh?"

"Well, it's Valentine's Day, and I know it's a bit last minute, but I was wondering if you'd like to join me for dinner tonight?"

Y/n was at a loss for words. Sure, he did find himself wanting to get to know this guy better. But he hesitated, unsure if it was a good idea since there are ethical implications of dating a patient's family member. He could get in a lot of trouble.

"I appreciate the offer, Jesse, but I don't know if it's appropriate," Y/n attempted to explain. "I mean, you're Sarah’s father, I'm her doctor. It’s a conflict of interest." 

Jesse waved his hand dismissively. "Nonsense. It’s only a conflict of interest if we’re dating, which we’re not. We’ll just be two people enjoying a meal together. What do you say, doc? It could be fun."

Well, when Jesse puts it like that, Y/n guess that sort of makes sense. Since they’re technically not dating, it wouldn’t cross any ethical lines in a literal manner.

Besides, his friends had Valentine's Day plans, and he was the only odd one out. Y/n was planning on spending the day in his living room and ordering some pizza.

"Well, I do enjoy a good meal and good company," the h/c-haired male agreed to the dinner. "Where did you have in mind?"

"There's this restaurant downtown that recently opened," Jesse suggested. "It's called Lepley's and it has good reviews. I've been wanting to try it. Sound good?"

"It sounds perfect. Shall we meet there? Around seven?" Y/n gave a thumbs up.

"Seven it is," Jesse confirmed.

Jesse walked back to his car, and Y/n entered his own vehicle, still processing what just happened. Momentarily, Y/n wondered what the evening would bring.

Unbeknownst to Y/n, a certain man with a goatee had watched the interaction. Stephen's gaze followed Y/n as he drove from the hospital, a dark look in his eyes.

XXXXX XXXXX

Y/n arrived at the restaurant promptly at seven, his heart fluttering with a mixture of excitement and nerves. He had taken the time to dress nicely, opting for jeans and a dressy shirt. Casual yet stylish too.

As he entered the cozy establishment, he spotted Jesse sitting at a table by the window, looking around the place as the gentle music played in the background.

"Y/n, over here!" Jesse waved him over.

Y/n made his way through the bustling restaurant, feeling a pair of eyes on him as he walked. He couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, but he forced those thoughts aside, reminding himself that this was simply a nice, friendly dinner.

No extra strings attached. 

"Hey, Jesse," Y/n greeted politely, sliding into the seat across from Jesse. "This place looks wonderful." He took another glance around the loud, crowded place. Valentine's Day made this place packed.

"It does, indeed," the man sitting across from Y/n agreed, brown eyes flickering over to the fish tank that was on display. "I've heard great things about this place." 

A waiter approached their table, handing them menus and offering them drinks. Y/n and Jesse both ordered a lemonade.

"So, what's it like being a doctor?" Jesse asked, leaning back in his seat to give Y/n all his attention. "I imagine long hours."

Y/n nodded in agreement. "Long hours for sure. It's very demanding and a lot of work, yet there's nothing more rewarding than helping patients with health issues."

"That paycheck must be very rewarding too," he said. "With that salary, you get to live in a big house and drive a fancy car."

The waiter returned with their drinks and took out his notepad, asking them what they wanted to order. Jesse ordered a steak with a side of mac and cheese, and broccoli cheese casserole. Y/n then ordered a simple cheeseburger and fries. The waiter said their meals would arrive shortly as he took their menus and left the two alone.

Y/n took a sip from his lemonade before answering Jesse’s remark. "Well, believe it or not, I don’t live in a big house. I live in a small apartment. However, I plan on upgrading to a house once my student loans are fully paid off, which should be real soon. I also plan on keeping my Chrysler. I’ve never been much of a big spender; I like the financial stability that comes with being a doctor. But enough about me. What do you do for a living?"

Jesse explained that he works in the finance department of Stark Industries. He analyzes investments and monitors the company’s financial performance. That was simply remarkable, especially to work for such a renowned company.

Soon, their food arrived, and they dug in, the conversation flowing easily between them. They talked about their hobbies and even shared embarrassing stories from their childhood, laughing together.

As the evening progressed, Y/n relaxed, enjoying the time he shared with Jesse. It had been a very long time since he'd connected with someone so effortlessly, and Y/n found himself hoping that this wouldn't be the last time they met up.

Y/n and Jesse ordered a rich chocolate soufflé to go and decided to split the bill, both insisting on contributing. As they walked out of Lepley's, they realized that their cars were parked on opposite sides of the lot. Jesse's eyes wandered to Y/n.

"Well, I think it's time we call it a night. Thank you for having dinner with me."

Y/n smiled. "Thank you for inviting me. It was definitely better than spending this day alone with a box of pepperoni pizza."

Jesse nodded, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder. "Happy Valentine's Day, Y/n."

"Happy Valentine's Day, Jesse," he said.

And then, the two men parted ways. As Y/n walked to his car, he felt a sense of content. He was glad he had gone out tonight, and he could say that thoughts of his ex-boyfriend were no longer at the forefront of his mind. Despite the rocky start to his day with Stephen, the night with Jesse had ended on a good note.

Or so he thought.

Y/n had just unlocked his car door when he felt a hand cover his mouth and pull him backward. Startled, he tried to push his assailant off, but the person wouldn't let go, keeping a tight grip on him. He was dragged into an alley, and the arms around him finally released their grip. Y/n scrambled forward and turned to see who the fuck had dragged him in there.

And it was Stephen. Fucking. Strange.

"What the fuck Stephen?!" Y/n shouted, his heart pounding hard and fast in his chest. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Stephen remained silent, staring at Y/n angrily. He was pissed. Before Y/n could react, Stephen pushed him up against the wall, his hand wrapping around Y/n's throat, squeezing the sensitive area a bit.

The dark-haired doctor leaned in close, their noses almost touching. "Who was that guy you were having dinner with?"

"I... I was just hanging out with a friend."

"A friend?" Stephen's lip curled. "Is that what you call it? I saw the way you were looking at him. I won't tolerate cheating."

"You can't cheat on someone when you're not together, which we aren't!" Y/n felt drained by this entire situation. This dude was crazy and needs serious help.

"Oh, we’re together. Always," Stephen pressed his body against Y/n's and dry-humped him from the front. "and forever." Stephen then pressed his lips to Y/n’s. The kiss was aggressive, almost violent, and Y/n tried to pull away, but Stephen held him in place, his hand leaving Y/n's throat to grip his jaw. "You always did like it rough," he murmured against his mouth before pulling away with a grin.

But the grin soon faded as Y/n's foot connected with Stephen's groin, causing him to double over in pain and drop to the ground. Y/n seized the opportunity to run back to his car and drive away, his hands shaking on the steering wheel. As he turned off his car engine, entered his apartment, and dropped his keys on the table, Y/n's hands were still trembling.

This was the last straw for Y/n.

Tomorrow morning, Y/n is filing a report with Human Resources and if that didn't resolve the situation, he would consider transferring to a different department. This kind of behavior cannot continue.

XXXXX XXXXX

Y/n was up early the next morning, determined to meet up with HR before his shift started. He was going to put an end to this situation with Stephen once and for all. It was clear that Stephen had developed an unhealthy obsession with him, and the h/c-haired male refused to put himself in more situations like this.

After a shower and a cup of coffee, Y/n dressed in a sharp suit, ready to face the confrontation head-on. He was aware that presenting himself confidently and assertively would be important to being taken seriously. As he finished tying his tie, the news played in the background — something he usually ignored while getting ready for work. But this time, Y/n turned the volume up and his eyes were wide with shock at the reporter's words.

A picture of Stephen appeared on the screen, and the reporter explained that Strange had been involved in a major car crash, his vehicle flying off the road and crashing into a nearby riverbank. He had died from the accident last night.

Stephen was dead.

A mixture of emotions washed over Y/n, but the predominant feeling was... relief. He was relieved that he wouldn't have to deal with Stephen or his antics anymore, and he could go to work without always worrying about being harassed. A smile crept onto Y/n's features as he shut off the TV with a click of the remote. He no longer had to worry about talking to HR.

Today was going to be a great day at work. In fact, it turned out to be his best.

As the months passed, Y/n's life only improved. He finally finished paying off his student loans and upgraded to a four-bedroom house, ecstatic to move out of the city and away from the constant chaos that seemed to surround his old apartment building. He received a salary raise at work, took a vacation, and even adopted a golden retriever named Max to share his new home with. His life was great, and he's going to keep it like that.

Y/n was now sitting on his couch in the living room, channel surfing as his dog snoozed by his side. A huge storm raged outside, with lightning flashing, thunder rumbling, and rain pouring down. He had just found a channel to settle on when the lights flickered and the TV shut off.

"Damn this storm," Y/n muttered.

With a sigh, the man grabbed his phone and headed toward the basement. When he reached the circuit breaker, he flipped the switch, and his lights came back on.

Y/n returned upstairs, but he felt too tired to stay up any longer. He had been dozing off before the lights went out, so he decided to go to bed. After changing into his pajamas, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and let out a small scream. Stephen Strange was standing behind him, a smirk tainting his features. But when Y/n turned, no one was there.

He looked around the room, ensuring that no one was in his house, and shook his head, thinking his mind was playing tricks on him. Stephen was dead; there was no way he could be standing here. It had to be his imagination or something.

With that thought, Y/n got underneath the covers and closed his eyes tightly. The sound of rain always helped him fall asleep faster. He entered the first stage, the twilight stage, when the man heard a weird noise that he couldn't describe. He opened his eyes to see an orange portal materializing on his bed. And he backed away very fast. What the hell was that? Just then, he was sucked into the portal, only to find himself... back in his room?

Y/n blinked. He realized that he was, indeed, back in his own bedroom, but something felt off. How had he fallen through some sort of portal in his room, only to end up back in the same place?

"Leave it to you to make pajamas look sexy, Y/n," a familiar voice commented.

The h/c-haired male stilled, recognizing the voice. No, no, no, that can't be right.

But, sure enough, when Y/n turned, there stood Stephen Strange. He was alive...? And wearing some sort of cloak.

"W-What are you doing here? They said you died in the car crash," he stammered.

Stephen threw his head back in laughter as if that idea was totally preposterous. "Well, technically, I did die in the crash, I was saved, thanks to surgery. I went to Kamar-Taj, became a wizard, and all that good stuff. The Sorcerer Supreme here."

Y/n couldn't believe this. How had this guy managed to do bad shit and become a wizard? It seemed unfair. Y/n tried to take a step back, wanting to put more distance between them, but Stephen held up his hand, and Y/n's lower body froze. He couldn't move the lower half of his body — no matter how hard he tried.

"What the hell did you do to me?" Y/n tried to run but, once more, couldn't do it.

"Just something to ensure you don't run off on me," Stephen explained, walking towards Y/n until he was standing right in front of him, eyes glancing at Y/n lips. "You know, I've missed the taste of you."

Before he could speak, Stephen's mouth captured his in a fierce, possessive kiss. Y/n couldn't move his lower body, but he could still move his face, so he turned his head to the side. Stephen gripped his jaw, forcing Y/n to maintain eye contact, and continued his relentless, demanding kiss. Finally, Stephen pulled away, his breathing ragged. "Tell me you love me," he whispered, cupping Y/n's face in his hands, his thumbs stroking Y/n's cheeks.

Y/n shook his head, his breath coming in short gasps, "I hate you so much, man."

The wizard paused, his eyes darkening. "You hate me?" he repeated slowly, his voice low and dangerous. And he looked furious, pissed. With a wave of his hand, Y/n was thrown on the bed and landed with a thud. Stephen climbed on top of him, pinning his arms against the bed. "You hate me after everything I've done for you? After everything I've given you?"

"Yes, I do," Y/n breathed out truthfully. "Because you're fucking crazy, Stephen."

"Now, that’s one thing we can agree on," Stephen released his right hand to run his finger over Y/n’s jawline. "I’m crazy for you, and you are going to love me."

Then, something weird began happening to Y/n. Longing and desire engulfed him, his thoughts filling with images of the person he hated most. No matter how hard he tried to think of someone else, his thoughts kept returning to Stephen.

"What," Y/n shook his head as if he was trying to shake whatever was happening to him off. "What did you do to me?" His vision was starting to become blurry.

"Rest now, my love. We'll talk later,"

Y/n soon slipped into unconsciousness, his mind clouded with confusion and a growing sense of unease for the future.

Stephen smiled as he watched Y/n fall into a deep sleep, his breath evening out. He moved to place Y/n's head in his lap, gently stroking his hair. Even asleep, Y/n looked good, just as he was that night.

The Sorcerer Supreme's thoughts drifted back to that fateful night with Y/n, the night that had changed everything. He remembered the way Y/n had looked at him across the crowded bar, their eyes locking briefly before Y/n quickly looked away, taking another sip from his drink. Stephen had known in that instant that Y/n was interested, and their amazing night together had only confirmed his theory—they were meant to be together. That night was literal proof of their love.

When Stephen had woken up the next morning to find Y/n gone, he had been confused about his whereabouts. But he had shrugged it off, absolutely certain that he would see his lover again soon.

And when he saw Y/n in the lounge, he couldn't resist coming up behind him and kissing his neck. God, Y/n's skin had felt so good against his lips, and he had the sudden urge to take Y/n right then and there. But Y/n had surprised him by saying that their night together had been a mistake. There was no way that night could've been a mistake. It was perfect.

Stephen knew that Y/n was only saying that because he was scared — scared of getting into another relationship. And that was okay. Stephen would give him the space he needed because he knew that deep down, Y/n felt the same way.

So, he had given him space, settling for watching him like a hawk from afar. But when Valentine's Day rolled around, the best holiday for couples, Stephen knew it was the perfect opportunity to spend some time together. Y/n had more than enough time to get over that stupid ex, and now it was their time to be together.

Stephen had also decided to get Y/n some generic Valentine's Day gifts, chocolates, and flowers, and planned to take him to a fancy restaurant in the city. But once again, Y/n didn't want to go out with him, which was starting to piss him off. After all, they were boyfriends after their night together, so why did Y/n keep insisting that they weren't? It's annoying.

However, what was even more annoying was discovering that Y/n was going on a date with someone else. Someone who wasn't him. Stephen's blood had boiled with unruly anger. How dare he cheat on him like this? He wouldn't stand for it.

The surgeon hadn't thought twice before he pulled Y/n into an alley after his date and scolded the man for cheating. Y/n was clearly playing hard to get, wanting to make him jealous, and it was working. Stephen was going to show Y/n exactly who he belonged to, which had resulted in a kick to the groin. That had been painful, but he had recovered quickly and hopped into his car to follow Y/n. He wouldn't let Y/n escape his grasp.

That's when he got into a car accident and died briefly during surgery before being brought back to life. He was then taken to Kamar-Taj, where Stephen had become the Sorcerer Supreme and the Master of the Mystic Arts. Pretty cool.

Throughout his time there, one person remained at the forefront of his mind.

Y/n.

Stephen had also realized that his love for Y/n was still strong, and he knew that Y/n loved him as well, even if he was too stubborn to admit it. Now that he was a wizard, he was going to use his abilities to bring Y/n to his new home.

And that's exactly what he did.

Stephen brought Y/n to his new home near the Sanctum, using magic to make the inside of the home identical to Y/n's old room. He knew that Y/n would love him for the time and effort he put into making sure everything was just right.

Once again, Y/n surprised him by saying that he hated him, which frustrated him.

Was it that hard for Y/n to accept their love? Well, if he wanted to be stubborn, Stephen would have to make him see it. He cast a spell, a love spell, to ensure Y/n's devotion. It was his way of making Y/n see the truth — they belonged together.

Y/n woke up sometime later, yawning. His eyes fluttered open. The first thing he saw was Stephen, sitting next to him.

"Are you okay, my love?" Stephen asked, fingers tracing patterns on Y/n's cheek.

Y/n smiled lovingly at Stephen, his pearly white teeth flashing. "Of course, I'm okay. I get to wake up every day next to you, handsome." He moved forward and wrapped his arms around Stephen's neck, pulling him into a nice, loving hug.

Stephen's smile was victorious, and he melted into the embrace, his arms coming around to possessively wrap around Y/n's waist. Y/n was finally his, and he had finally admitted that he loved Stephen as much as Stephen loved him.

He knew that some might call him obsessive or even delusional, but he didn't care. He did nothing but help Y/n see the truth. In his eyes, Y/n was his and his alone. He would do whatever it took to keep it that way, no matter what. After all, what’s life without a little danger?

XXXXX XXXXX

[elennemigo]

BENEDICT CUMBERBATCH´s hands through his characters.

✦ GIFTOBER 2023 | Day 23/31: Hands.🖐

[dedalvs]

San Diego Comic-Con Panel (2024)

If you're heading to SDCC this year Jessie and I will be there giving a presentation on language creation in Room 11 on Thursday (7/25) at 7:00 p.m. We'd love to see you there!

[fanofspooky]

Oldsmobile Delta 88

[ex0skeletal-undead]

Concept art by Jerad S. Marantz

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE STEPHEN STRANGE HEADCANONS

You most likely must have met him through his time of him being a surgeon or a doctor, or you must've been some hero like him to catch his attention and make him notice you. Now, Stephen is someone who doesn't get impressed too easily but somehow you managed to impress him and for that, congratulations :) You now have a yandere wizard or sorcerer at the back of you

Heck, you might even be a random person just minding your own business and he feels intrigued by how unfazed and calm you appear. Now, when it comes to him getting obsessed with you, he's gonna be getting completely cocky since he's pretty sure his actions are subtle and you wouldn't possibly find out. He'll start trying his best to impress you either with his magic or his car, watches or even making balloon animals for you lol

You might be able to avoid him not for long since this man here can create portals and everything like a modern day Kurogiri, unless you work in the medical field like him. He'll literally make sure you stay WITH him where he can keep an eye on you and watch your graceful movements like a hawk

He can be really sneaky when it comes to stalking you. You won't even know he's stalking you at some point since he's damn good at hiding and lying low when stalking you

As a yandere, I have a feeling he might be possessive, obsessive and maybe a little bit.... manipulative too since he's also kinda good at sweet talk I think

Doctor Strange here really loves and admires your upbeat personality and the fact that you're sarcastic like him makes his heart beat even more for you. He'll listen to you sing and applaud you, telling you how wonderful and melodious your voice is. He thinks you sing like an angel but he doesn't like it when you show affection to undeserving morons that don't even deserve to LOOK at your direction. He'll get jealous if you hang out with Tony too often since you both are buddies and pals and so, he'll do his best to drag you away from him and try showing you some cool trick that'll end up leaving you impressed with it and him being proud and smug AF while he smirks. Cocky prick....

He'll kidnap you when he feels like you're either in danger or he just needs to have you with him, that's it PERIODT. He would have stalked you for something like 6 months to more and everything about you. He'll know and understand you'll be scared and confused and angry and you have to hand it to the man here, he has a lot of patience. But if you piss him off, you're wandering into dangerous territory. Does he feel bad for what he's done? Not even a little bit

If you try fighting him, he'll think it's amusing and not to mention adorable that you think you actually have a CHANCE of beating him and escaping him. He'll do his best to make you happy and will create and give you things with his magic. That's a pro of being in a relationship with a wizard lol. The worst way he could punish you is locking you in a room with his magic preventing you from escaping. He just wants you to love him and yes, he DOES intend having a family with you as well. Maybe 3-4 little ones running around. You best pray this man doesn't get jealous since if he does, he'll send many death glares to that person and after that, he's gonna torture them in the most brutal way possible with his magic. And he'll find out whatever you're planning since he's a sorcerer of course. Little things he likes doing with you are cuddling with you and talking about things you like. He shares the same interest in astrology as you and loves hearing you talk about it, and the way your eyes shine with interest. He'd feel like the worst person on the planet when he sees you crying and he'll do his best to comfort you, he knows it's tough but you can face the challenges together as a couple, he'll help you and be there for you no matter what

Even death won't be able to separate the 2 of you since he'll just find a way to bring you back to life. So, that 'Till death do us'' part won't apply. He might act like one hell of a god damn Tsundere once in a while but secretly, he's a complete sucker for your affection

[emcu7o]

dark red

[shallyouobeyme]

Dream

Yandere!/Dark!Wanda Maximoff/Scarlet Witch x reader

Summary: Left alone with nightmares and pictures of your loved ones dying when you close your eyes, you're trying your best to leave the woman you had secretly loved and who had turned into an evil witch and died behind you, but maybe - just maybe - she doesn't want to let you...

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT Warning: Dark content, mentions of previous murders, MoM Spoilers(?), Blood (Mentioned), Yandere, _This is all just fiction, I do not condone this!

Bea: Okay, so this is loosely based on a scene from a fanfiction I abandoned when I was like 15. It was honestly a giant cringe-fest, but this one scene never left my mind for long so I decided to recycle it into something my current messed-up self will enjoy. This is also day one of my writetober so check it out. Enjoy.

Falling asleep had become a chore for you. Every time you closed your eyes you saw death. Either the death of Pietro back in Sokovia, the death of Vision and of so many other Avengers. Rrecently the death of the only person you had ever truly loved had joined the list. Wanda was gone and a part of you knew that it was better this way, that everything she had done to Stephen, to the people of the other universe, after what she had tried to do to America, you were well aware that she hadn’t been the woman you’d secretly been in love with for years now anymore. But that part was frighteningly tiny. Most of you still felt agonizing grief. You had decided to stay with Stephen and America, after all, they were the only ones who had been with you when you had seen that other universe. The only one on your trip that you had been sad to leave behind. A universe where you and Wanda had been happy together. In love. Married.

A universe that you had wished for for many years. One that Wanda destroyed in her attempt to get to America. You had seen with your own eyes how she had taken ahold of that Universes Wanda and ripped the heart right out of your universe-equivalent chest when she tried to talk some sense into who she thought to be her wive. That was probably the death that hunted you the most. Not because you had seen yourself die, but because you had realized then and there that this woman wasn’t Wanda anymore, that this woman was the Scarlet Witch and that she seemingly had no emotions left for the friendship you had once shared. America had known immediately what you were thinking because she took your hand and shook her head as if to tell you that it Wanda anymore, that it wasn’t Wanda who was trying to - who actually kind of had killed you. This understanding only increased when you finally opened up to her about your feelings for the witch, she encouraged Stephen to let you stay with them and did her very best to cheer you up every single day to get you to crawl out of the dark hole you had found yourself stuck in.

That doesn’t help with the sleeping issue though. Lately, you had resorted to letting Wong put a light sleeping spell on you that would keep you from experiencing any dream-like state and basically made you just fall asleep and immediately wake up about six hours later. Which is why you were especially confused when you woke up in a sunflower field. You immediately knew that you must be dreaming because this wasn’t just some random sunflower field, as you looked around you could see the little cabin beside a lake, the mountain range opposite it and the tree with the swing. Obviously, there were some biological reasons why this couldn’t exist in real life, but the more obvious factor was that you had seen this from a different perspective a hundred times. Every single time you had walked into your room in the Compley you had seen this landscape on your wall. Wanda and you had been lazily hanging out in your room one weekend back when everything was still okay (or as okay as it had ever been) when you had told her that you had been thinking of painting something on the wall to make the space more personal and she had immediately loved the idea. Two days (and 500$ of Tony’s money) later there was a definitely amature made, but exceptionally beautiful in your eyes with Wanda and your name intertwined in the corner. You had joked that one day you’d live in a cabin there and the people in the town nearby would think the two of you were an old married couple. Just that you hadn’t really joked, you had hoped. You had dreamt of it often back in the day, but ever since Thanos, it had turned into a nightmare sooner or later, the flowers rotting, the cabin burning, the lake filling with blood, etc. This is why you were doing your best to try and wake yourself up again, not mentally stable enough to live through another nightmare like that. Just that none of the tactics were working. You had to try something else, or at least you were planning to do so, but when you stood up to look around, suddenly something changed. You looked down at yourself where before there was your pyjamas, but now there was the exact outfit you had worn on a night out years ago before you had known Wanda and Vision had a thing going on where you had planned to confess your feelings to her but had chickened out. “Hello, Darling,” a voice called out from behind you. A voice you’d recognize anywhere. You turned around and saw her. She looked exactly as you remember, wearing that beautiful maroon dress that she had already worn that night. For a second it was like nothing had ever happened, but then reality caught up to you. This was a dream. She was dead.

Since you knew that this had to be a dream you tried to use whatever lucid dreaming tips you had heard in your life and clenched your eyes shut, repeating “This is all a Dream” again and again. “Love-” you hadn’t heard her coming closer, obviously, it was a dream no logic had to apply, but the hand that cupped your cheeks still startled you, “-please look at me.” Against all reasoning you obliged her and when you looked into her beautiful eyes you couldn’t help but want to kiss her, just to have one last sweet memory of her left. As if reading your mind she leaned forward and put her lips on yours. She pulled you towards her and stole your breath. You were melting into her and it felt so, so, very real that the fact that all of it was a dream became hazy. At least until you saw her kissing Vision in your head in what seemed to be a last-ditch attempt of your brain to make you wake up. You pulled away and shook your head frantically. “No, no, this isn’t right, you’re with vision, just because I love you doesn’t mean you love me too… Or loved me, I guess because you’re dead, I saw it-” “You’re wrong.” “-with my own eyes. You died and you didn’t love me.” “Princessa, you’re wrong,” Wanda raised her voice slightly and you turned to her automatically. “I saw you die, Wanda, you’re dead.” “That’s not the thing you’re wrong about,” she sighed and came closer to you again, you wanted to step back, but found yourself unable to. It was like your feet were cemented onto the earth below you, “I might have died, but I loved you, I always did, I just didn’t realize until I saw that woman in that parallel universe, their version of me married to their version of you, living the life I wanted, not only having my children but also the spouse of my dreams. It wasn’t vision, vision was what I thought I deserved because you were always so pure, so fantastic, too good for me. But that fake-me made me realize that it’s not about what I deserve, it’s about what you need, you need someone to properly love and protect you. You need me, so how fortunate that you love me already.” Not quite able to process what she was saying you tried your waking-up tactics again before this turned even more nightmarish. You were distracted though when Wanda took you into a dancing position, putting your head against her and your body suddenly started dancing in sync with her without any input of your own. “Too bad that Stephen was already after me, I knew that he wouldn’t let me keep you safe in peace. He was a threat. But he would stop as soon as he thought he’d been victorious. He had to think I died and so I did. For a while at least-” you would have grown stiff in shock and fear if your body had still been listening to you, instead, you kept slightly swinging through the flower field with Wanda, “-It cost me a lot of Magic, but it was worth it. I’ll recover and then I’ll be able to get you into an actual little cabin at a lake, just like we always talked about, until then I’ll still be able to be with you in your dreams, where it’s just us two. Maybe we can start on making you actually believe that I love you, hmm, once we manage that we can move on to helping you accept me as your protector, okay? For now, I’ll just keep the bad dreams away, just you and me and the sunflowers.” Your body stopped swinging and even though you felt the control returning to your limbs you wouldn’t be able to do anything, frozen in shock. Wanda kissed you one more time before you suddenly shot up in bed, drenched in cold sweat. It took you a few minutes to calm down your heart from the excessive fear that was still lingering. You decided not to go back to sleep and made a note to ask Wong if he had an idea why his spell didn’t work as you made your way into the library where you assumed Stephen was wasting the night away over books, trying to ignore the fact that you could still feel the kiss on your lip, feel the stiffness in your joints that you had only ever felt in the afterwards of Wanda controlling you and the fact that you still felt her presence in your subconscious.

[brambleheartthestrange]

This book is so Ironstrange coded I can’t believe this is official Marvel content

[annaarenas890]

Dark magic.

[tendalee]

🌸🌹New Spring Sale!🌹🌸 2⃣0⃣% ⬇️

www.etsy.com/shop/TendaLeeART

[rmoonstoner]

18+ content. You have been warned!

Okay, so, the top 3 fics I am working on at the moment:

***

# 1 - Cream & Sugar - Complete LINK

One shot, currently sitting at 12k words. Story part done, now I need to add more nasty to it. Orgasm denial and overstimulation for Peter. P in v sex, cream pie, Peter is tied to a lawn chair and you have your way with him, breeding kink, he begs a lot, blah blah blah.

Sub!Spider-Man Noir x Dom!spider!fem!reader (I think it's soft Dom, but you decide.)

***

# 2 - Just A Taste - Part 2

Second part of Just A Taste. Peter takes you on a simple date. Yes. More sex. I was thinking public sex, maybe they get caught by someone? I dunno. Haven't decided. Story part is done, just whipping up the nasty. More creampie monster fuckery.

SPIDER-Man/Man-Spider Peter Parker x Sorceress!fem!reader

***

# 3 - Poisoned Empanadas - Chapters 5 - 10

So much more story. Real people sex! You get nothing more out of me.

Spider-Man 2099 Miguel O'Hara x fem!spider!reader

***

Runner ups:

***

# 4 - No name as of yet, might be chaptered, might not be

Tiny bit of story, monster fucker sex with a magic man that looks like a demonic tentacle demon. Much nasty.

Eldritch Horror/Watcher/Supreme Doctor Stephen Strange x Watcher's Assistant!fem!reader

***

# 5 - Decent into Madness

This is pure filth and crack for me. Written by me, for me, and I am sharing for others to enjoy. I am counting this as a size kink, breeding kink, monster fucker (because it's MOTHER FUCKING BEAST FROM THE X-MEN! I DON'T DO REGULAR HUMAN HANK, SORRY.) and it's nasty.

Dark Beast x Mutant!fem!reader

***

I am also working on other various fics and projects and requests, but they aren't as high up on my priority list at the moment. If have seen some requests, don't worry, I haven't forgotten. My muse to write is saying do these now.

❤️ 💙

[highonmarvel]

The Other Side

Searching for your Stephen, you find another, and he won’t let you go this time.

An entry for Day 4 of the exciting @sintember challenge!

Prompt: The Other Side, ft Sinister Dr Strange of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, Dr Strange in the Multiverse of Madness (2022).

Warnings: DUB-CON!, possessive behaviour, developing Stockholm Syndrome. 18+! [And I haven’t watched Dr Strange in so long, please pretend I know what I’m doing.]

You had lost Stephen and America, and you were now left in a crumbling world, a universe broken, with no way to get home. Based on the wrecked state of the world, you thought there wasn’t a Dr Strange here, that he had been defeated and his opponent left ruin. Though he wasn’t your Stephen, the thought still deeply upset you, that Stephen could be defeated, and maybe yours would be.

You push open the door of the Sanctum, you want to call out to him but you know there’s no point. The heavy door falls shut behind you. All the antiques and strange paintings and ornaments that once decorated the foyer have been shattered, some are deteriorating, and a dark mist floats through the cold temple, enveloping you, nearly strangling you, you feel.

Upstairs. You know you have to head to the Window of the Worlds.

You walk to the window, engraved with the Seal of Vishanti. It’s cracked, black lines not belong to the symbol run in all directions across the glass, that has a purple tint, nearly a faint violet glow. You want to touch it, when you hear your name whispered.

You spin, and there stands Stephen. Not your Stephen. This Stephen is… different: he looks older, streaks of grey paint his dark hair, with sunken eyes.

“Stephen!” you call, taking a step forward, “Or, Dr Strange, I need your help, please.”

“You’re here,” he murmurs, slowly walking towards you.

“I- I am,” you sputter, a little confused and off put by his trance-like demeanour, as his curious eyes never leave you, “I lost Stephen—my Stephen—and I need to get back.”

“I am your Stephen.” his voice is so low, so low you wouldn’t have heard it were you even a notch below the level of hyper-awareness he’s activated in you.

He steps into the light, and you gasp and take a step back. Visually, he’s not much different to the average person, but his eyes are dark, a familiar blue you once knew sealed up in an endless black; you can’t read them as he continues to walk towards you. You still.

He stops in front of you, and raises shaky hands to cup your face, his lips parted slightly as his foreign dark gaze analyses every inch of your face. His fingers are cold, ice cold, so cold they burn, like dry ice; you wince at the contact but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“No,” you whisper, “No, I’m not yours, and you’re not my…”

You raise your hands to gently grasp his wrists, and freeze when you see it. His fingertips are darkened, stained with a black so profound, so dangerous in sheer aura that you know what it’s from.

“Stephen?”

He’s been tampering with the Dark Hold, the book of sins so evil you barely know of it, just the name elicits chills; Stephen, your Stephen, barely discussed it, he never did until he found out about the Scarlet Witch’s use, and even still he said very little; you got the feeling that though his knowledge seemed limitless, he knew little here, and very deliberately he kept himself in the dark, because if he knew, he’d indulge.

And indulge he has, this sinister Stephen holding your face gently in his hands, as if these hands haven’t caused unfathomable destruction. You should have known—you knew—that Dr Strange could not be defeated. He wasn’t conquered, never could he be: he conquered.

“That’s me,” he smiles and reassures you. Though his eyes and fingers are stained, that boyish smile you know to be yours is the same as ever.

“What did you do?” is all you can muster in a shaky breath, a tear slipping down your cheek, he watches it fall.

“I did what was necessary, and you…” he strains his voice to prevent himself from choking on his words and he smooths a calloused finger over your skin, wiping away the single tear that had spilt, “You were gone.”

His eyes soften, and, despite the cold of his hands, they’re warm, his eyes, his body too, you notice, noting he’s much closer to you than you realised, and definitely too close for comfort. You don’t even know if you can call him insane, mad with power, and furthermore, you can’t tell what he meant by…

A cold hand snakes over your shoulder and his fingers grasps the back of your neck, pulling you towards him. When he kisses you, you stiffen, but, really, for barely a second, because his lips, they feel so familiar. This man is like your Stephen, you can feel it, but you see a different image; he’s like your Stephen if he had no self control, or even just a little less than he has now.

The thought hits you: you could never deny Stephen. Even if you could, say, by the grace of some higher power, even if you could walk away, Stephen always gets what he wants. There isn’t even a higher power you can turn to: there is no power higher than Stephen.

“You’ve come back to me.”

What can you even say? You’re sure he isn’t delusional, you’re sure he knows you’re not his, and you’re sure he doesn’t care. You nearly resign to your fate, but the thought burns you so hot you hurriedly blurt out,

“What happened to her?”

To you. Did he…?

He doesn’t answer, he stays gazing into your eyes, a sombre-looking but relieved smile on his face, like he’s reconciling the fact that he was wrong; he’s never wrong, but he never thought he would see you again. He simply repeats, “You’ve come back to me.”

“Stephen, no,” you state, firmly, yanking his hands off your face and holding his wrists down between you two. He seems mildly shocked, you’re sure he would have been able to overpower you if he you didn’t catch him slightly off guard. But no, you should know you could never be apart from him, whether you want to or not.

Magic ropes wrap around your wrists, tying a knot and pulling them close together, so tight you wouldn’t be surprised if they sliced your hands off. Stephen’s magic is golden, pure, this man—you don’t even want to call him Stephen—his magic is corrupt; purple, with black shadows swirling the violet pulses emitting from the shapes he draws.

You panic, forcing your head down to look at your bound wrists and then snapping your head back up to him. You open your mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a shrill little squeal as you’re lifted a few centimetres off the ground. The same purple and black vines wrap around your ankles, forcing them together.

You notice this is the first time you’ve been above him, floating just high enough for him to have to raise his chin to study you. You always thought this would give you some kind of dominance (fleeting and artificial as it may be), to be over him, but no, you never stood a fucking chance.

You barely struggle, afraid that if you shift around too much you’ll drop to the ground, so all you can do is be still as he circles you, examining you. Another thing; he doesn’t seem to just look at you, he studies you, like looking for flaws in a sculpture. What happens if he finds them?

“You know,” he finally speaks after several minutes of inspecting you, “All this…” he turns you towards the window. There’s a rift in the sky, with seemingly everything in it, everything in existence, it’s overwhelming, “I did for you, honey.”

He’s lying, he must be; though you can imagine yourself getting a little carried away now and then, in no universe could you ever see a version of yourself prepared to bring about mass destruction, the ends of literally infinite lives, no; you may be imperfect, but the collapse of an entire universe? He’s either lying or being intentionally ambiguous. Maybe he’s not lying, just misleading.

“You didn’t; you did it for her,” you half-lie; while it’s true he could only have done this for a different version of you, you doubt she would have authorised that, but you use her as sort of a scapegoat anyway.

He flicks his fingers and you spin to face him. He lowers you just enough so you’re at eye level, and despite your best efforts, you genuinely can not read his gaze; you can’t find any hint of what he may be feeling, it’s just a void, but it’s not, it’s not a void; you know there’s something there, something you’re missing.

You’re sure he’s going to say something, maybe continue his little game of pretending you’re his, but just as you anticipate the opening of his mouth, you violently spin again, this time towards the door, with a shriek. He walks in front you, and you follow behind, like you’re being pulled by a rope, like a dog on a leash who’s trying to play with something when the owner is fed up and wants to go home.

His bedroom door slams shut behind you and you’re lowered onto bed with a gentleness the human touch could never give, his magic softly laying you like you’re the most precious thing, and based on the look he’s giving you, you damn well might be.

Your soft rest hazes your mind for a moment, but you’re snapped back to the cold of the Sanctum when you feel him hover over you.

“I’ve missed you…” he whispers.

You don’t know when your pants came off, but you feel him run a practiced finger over your clothed slit. Oh, God, he feels exactly like your Stephen; the foreignness of his eyes and slight change in demeanour don’t seem to mean anything when he still feels exactly the same, it’s fucking with your mind.

You love your Stephen, more than anything, and you know this isn’t him. You try to push him off but when he slips a finger inside of you, you can’t help the shudder that vibrates through you.

Can I get Stockholm Syndrome so easy? you wonder to yourself, more berate yourself, as you try desperately to ignore the feeling of his fingers inside of you, moving in and out just the way you like, he knows what you like, he knows your body just the way Stephen does.

Because he is Stephen.

۞

[marvel-snape-writes]

Cheekbones??? Wavy hair??? Eyes???? Lips???

FUCK

[geekynerfherder]

Showcasing art from some of my favourite artists, and those that have attracted my attention, in the field of visual arts, including vintage; pulp; pop culture; books and comics; concert posters; fantastical and imaginative realism; classical; contemporary; new contemporary; pop surrealism; conceptual and illustration.

The art of P Craig Russell. 

[my-beautiful-wickedness]

Day Six [Oct. 31.]

prompt: Free Choice

Witches + spell books