#sassy stephen strange

[itsagentromanoff]

Tony: Banner and Wong go do the wizard thing. I'll stay behind and putter around the bat cave with crusty old Alfred here.

Strange: Ah, no. I am no Alfred, sir. No, you forget. Alfred had a job.

[doctorstrangeaskblog]

My Zombie Strange be like breaking other players win streak and drinking tea just for sass because he really doesn't need to drink- he's dead. And the tea set he uses is very similar to the one in Doctor Strange 2- same golden pattern.

(Sorry Excessive7 for breaking your streak XD)

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

I dunno where this edit is from and it’s not watermarked. But it almost looks like a painting, and I NEED it on my blog,

[bookishtheaterlover7]

I'm sorry, but this is too Golden not to share here🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

[briefhandsstudenttoad]

Doctor Strange Headcanons:

Hellooo does anyone want headcanons for other characters? :)

Happy:

He has a tea addiction

He acts like he doesn't like them but he is invested with both Peters' music taste

He is Morgan Starks Godfather after saving Tony's life

He was secretly relieved that Wong was now sorcerer supreme after the blip even though he moaned non-stop about it

He also secretly loves all of the avengers, though he'd never admit it

He's secretly a triplet

He was a vegan growing up and he tries to stick at it (but he's rubbish at it)

He is an activist for feminism, lgbtq and climate change

He's also kissed some guys before now but he still prefers women

Secretly talks to the cloak and refers to it as 'Cloaky' but gets angry if anyone else treats it differently to a precious artefact.

Massive girl dad and even though he never planned on children, as he ages he always regrets not having a child - expecially a daughter

Rolls his eyes so much because he's a mixture of sassy teenage girl and flirty

Secretly adores when the avengers ask for medical help for stupid things like paper cuts

Terrified of spiders

Sad:

(Kind of canon) He's SO insecure about his hands

He can't write any more because of them or do...lots of things

Morgan jokes about him always wearing gloves like Elsa but he low-key relates to her

He still hasn't been in a car after the accident and he isn't planning too

He always thinks of donna

He was abused as a child by his dad

After their mum and sister died, Stephen and his brother were moved to an all boys orphanage

His brother looks exactly like him but he's evil and he didn't see him after he left the orphanage and he hopes he never does again

He also thinks that his dad is dead even though he doesn't know for sure

HUGE insomniac like this man doesn't realise he hasn't slept for days till he passes out in the library

Physically incapable of asking for help

Hates conflict between the avengers - reminds him of his abusive childhood

Explicit:

Hasn't had sex since the accident, 4 years ago

Can't hold himself up on top because of his shaky hands

But he used to be a top

He was also a huge playboy

Can no longer "help himself out" because his hands throw him off

So instead he gets quite sexually frustrated

Giver not receiver although it hasn't always been that way

Has absolutely read fanfiction of himself but only because he finds it funny

[dino-fart]

Reader with the Strange Variants

*points to Supreme Strange*: If mean why hot?

*points to Strange Supreme*: If evil why baby?

*points to Defender Strange*: If noble why DILF?

*points to Sinister Strange*: If creepy why tempting?

*points to Stephen Strange*: If sassy why soft?

[celerrie]

curse-breaker

summary: You're the Mystic Arts' best and brightest when it comes to breaking ancient curses, and Stephen Strange, Sorcerer Supreme...well, he's the Mystic Arts' best when it comes to everything else. But when a normal day together at New York City's Sanctum Sanctorum is turned on its head by an invitation from Tony Stark himself to attend this year's Stark Industries Gala, you find that you need to clarify what, exactly, you and Stephen are to each other, and not just to the world at large.

pairing: Stephen Strange/Sorcerer!Reader

warnings: Friends to lovers, eventual smut (in the next part or two! it gets pretty kinky sdnfsnf), reader and Stephen are both really sassy in this but they are also so SOFT to each other and love each other sm I swear

word count: 3,532

a/n: This is set post-Doctor Strange (2016) but pre-DS:MoM (2022)! You can also find it on Ao3 here! Comments, kudos, likes, and reblogs are all so appreciated! Part two is now up here!

One of the funniest things about the New York City Sanctum Sanctorum, in your opinion, was that whenever the postman was about to walk by, it conjured up a mail slot for itself in its front doors.

By all accounts, it made sense for the Sanctum to be enchanted to do this.  Sure, the true purpose of the building was generally unknown to the public (and, you presumed, the government), but it wasn’t as if the Sanctum was some kind of super-secret hideout.  After all, it was literally on the corner of Bleecker Street, in full view of the public.  Of course it was going to receive mail the same way every other building in Greenwich Village did.

But it was still pretty amusing to watch the front doors complete their daily ritual of sprouting a tiny metal slot for a few minutes before letting it disappear again.  And it was extremely amusing to see what credit cards wanted to give Doctor Stephen Strange, the Sorcerer Supreme, a special 0% APR financing offer. 

“Morning,” Stephen said as today’s mail slot in the front door dissipated.  You were already dressed and collecting the envelopes that had scattered on the ground with a wave of your hand, while he was just making his way downstairs for the day, his blue night robe partially covered by the Cloak of Levitation and his feet in slippers that matched his robe.  He was already sipping from a mug of coffee—he’d probably made it with one hand stuck through a portal before getting out of bed, a technique favored by the both of you—and as he walked by you, you proffered the morning paper to him, which he took with his free hand.

“Morning,” you said back, sifting through the mail and setting the spam you’d gotten in one hand to be recycled.

“You’re looking very put-together for a Saturday morning,” Stephen murmured, his voice still carrying a heavy dose of morning grogginess.  He shuffled in his slippers over to his favorite armchair, and you followed after him to disburse his allotment of the daily post.

“I’ve got that curse-breaking intensive to teach over in Kamar-Taj today,” you reminded your friend.  He knew as well as you did that if you had the choice, you’d still be in your pajamas, just like he was; lazy mornings were so rare, nowadays.  “The Mystic Arts don’t take weekends off, Sorcerer Supreme.”

“Don’t I know it,” Stephen sighed, sinking into his seat wearily.  “Anything good for me in the mail today?”

“You got an offer for a discount on satellite TV,” you said, already flicking the envelope containing said offer over to the recycle pile in your other hand.

“The wards still won’t let satellite through for some reason,” Stephen dismissed the offer as he took a deep sip of coffee.  You were well aware of this issue with the wards; it was a mystery that had come on suddenly and that neither you, Stephen, or Wong could seem to solve.

“An offer for the fifth 0% APR credit card this week,” you continued, adding that envelope, too, to the discard pile.

“Just what I need: a chance to spend all the money I don’t have anymore,” Stephen snorted, setting his mug down and snapping the morning paper open in front of himself.

“Oh, and an invitation from Tony Stark to attend this year’s Stark Industries Gala,” you said with interest, turning a very fancy, very expensive-looking metallic red and gold envelope, sealed with the Stark Industries logo in wax, over in your fingers.

“It’s illegal to open someone else’s mail, you know,” Stephen deadpanned without looking over his newspaper at you, and this time, it was your turn to snort as you tossed the still-sealed envelope into his lap before moving to take a seat in your own favorite armchair, just across from his.

“I don’t have to open it to know what it is, Sherlock,” you said, putting all of Wong’s mail in a small pile on the coffee table near his favorite seat, which completed a little triangle with yours and Stephen’s. Wong would undoubtedly head directly there when he got back from his Saturday morning life-drawing classes, so you knew he’d discover his mail with no difficulty.  “Stark gets his gala invitation envelopes custom-designed so they get posted all over social media.  They’re very famous and very coveted.”

“Is that right,”  Stephen murmured, folding his newspaper and turning his attention to the red and gold envelope in his lap.  While you stole his newspaper, then made a portal and reached through, pouring yourself your own cup of joe, he opened the drawer of the table adjacent to his seat and procured himself a letter opener.  Even with the help of magic, his hands shook slightly as he slid the blade beneath the envelope flap, but as usual, he got the job done.

“Pass me your mug if you want some more coffee,” you told him while he read through the invitation.  He obliged, waving his hand and floating his mug toward you—it read “a wise doctor once wrote”, which was followed by an absolutely indistinguishable sample of Stephen’s own handwriting; you’d given it to him for his birthday last year—and you reached it through the portal, topping the brew inside off.

“Thank you, darling,” he murmured, only half paying attention to you and what he was saying.  You tried not to read too much into what he said in moments like this, as a general rule.  Mere seconds later, his piercing blue eyes flitted up from the invitation, his eyebrows raised.  “Well, you’re right.  The man in a can has invited me to this year’s Stark Industries Gala.”

“Congratulations,” you said, levitating his coffee back to him and closing up the portal.

“I don’t think that congratulations are in order.  I have a lot to do,” Stephen snorted, plucking his coffee mug from thin air.  “And Stark’s the kind of guy who’s a real pain in the ass to be around.”

“You think most people are a pain in the ass to be around,”  you returned, unable to resist the slight pull of intrigue that came with hearing your friend gossip about one of Earth’s mightiest Avengers.

“Yeah, but Stark goes beyond that.  You know the type of guy I’m talking about.  Rich, cocky, self-obsessed, thinks he knows everything,” Stephen said, folding the invitation back up and tucking it back inside its envelope.  “The works.”

You stared at Stephen around the newspaper for a moment, trying to parse out if he was aware that he was describing his personality doppelganger to you.  After careful assessment, you decided that he wasn’t.

“Sounds like someone I’d be friends with, if my track record is anything to go by,” you said, setting down the newspaper (it was never really your thing anyway) and giving Stephen a pointed look.

He almost said something, then seemed to think better of it.  A beat passed.

“I’m not rich anymore,” he finally replied, and you smirked, handing him back his paper.

“And you’re all the better for it, Stephen,”  you assured him.  Having too much money never did anyone any favors, and from what you’d heard from him (and seen, in some ways), he had been no exception.  “It’s too bad you’re not gonna go to the Gala, though,” you said, turning the subject back to the matter at hand.  “I hear they’re pretty fun.”

“Who said anything about not going?”  Stephen frowned, flipping back to the page he’d been on.  You took a long sip of your coffee—your mug, a gift from Stephen for your birthday, said “nice tits”, and had several pictures of birds from the relevant family—while shrugging.  You supposed he hadn’t said anything about not attending, and his gripes about his schedule and the host apparently weren’t meant to carry any underlying connotation to them beyond complaining for complaining’s sake.

That was where people went wrong with Stephen, you knew: they’d often say something like, “I thought you said you were busy and you didn’t like the host,” and he’d look at them with all the exhaustion of a genius who now had to explain to a particularly small mind that people could sometimes complain just to vent.  If he was especially unfortunate, his conversation partner might also say something like, “why did you say congratulations aren’t in order, then?  I thought you were saying you weren’t going to go,” and then he’d have to explain that he simply didn’t view being a part of Stark’s personal in-club as something to be congratulated about, and he had never said anything of the sort about not going, and he was, in fact, telling them now that he was going.

And that was why Stephen Strange found most people annoying.

Conversely, most people found Stephen Strange annoying because he had the almost preternatural capacity to use his arrogance to put his foot right in his mouth in nearly any circumstance, and you could tell he was just on the verge of such a moment right now. Ever since you’d first met him and (begrudgingly) befriended him as a fellow acolyte at Kamar-Taj, you’d had an almost impeccable sense of these things.  Wong called it your own unique form of magic.  You called it your own personal curse.

You looked out one of the windows of the Sanctum Sanctorum and prayed to the Vishanti that you would be wrong for once in your life.

“I’m thinking blue and red would work well as our colors,” he finally said, and you groaned internally.

“Our colors?”  Was what you actually asked out loud, arching one of your eyebrows once again.

“For the gala,” Stephen explained, not glancing up from the newspaper.

“I’m going with you?”  You asked, your eyebrow creeping up ever higher.

“Well, I’m not taking Wong,” Stephen’s reply came easily and quickly. 

“You’re currently not taking me, either, Stephen,” you said without hesitation before taking another sip from your coffee.  This, at last, got his attention, his eyes moving away from the newspaper to focus on you.  As his understanding of his mistake dawned in his eyes, the Cloak of Levitation reached its collar over and smacked him on the cheek.

“Hey!  Don’t—I get it, you can stop,” he spluttered, his hands fighting with the Cloak, which was currently trying to smack him on his other cheek.  You couldn’t help but be a bit amused by the scene before you and, if you were honest, a bit relieved, too.  It was good to see that he was getting quicker at figuring out when he was being pig-headed.  He’d been practically insufferable when you’d first met him, but he’d come a long way since then.  Now, he was just occasionally insufferable.  For about the millionth time, your heart went out to Christine Palmer, who had had to deal with Stephen in his pure, unadulterated, self-obsessed form for years.  You didn’t know how she’d done it.

“Will you go to the Stark Industries Gala with me?”  He asked you when the Cloak finally stopped giving him hell.  “Please?”

The please, to your surprise, wasn’t ingenuine.

“No,” you said anyway, draining the last of your coffee and standing up.  You were going to be jittery today from how fast you’d sucked all that caffeine down, but you had a tight schedule to keep.  “Not until you can actually come up with a reason why you want me as your date that isn’t just the fact that I’m not Wong.”

“That’s easy.  You’re—” Stephen started, but your foot-in-mouth senses began ringing a very familiar alarm bell in your head, so you cut him off.

“The fact that you personally find me more attractive than Wong is not an acceptable reason, either,” you said, and Stephen deflated.  You’d been aware that he was interested in you since the third day you’d known him, when he’d had the balls to invite you into his bed.  You’d told him no and to get a haircut, he’d wound up gaining respect for you as a result, and you were, somehow, still stuck with him.

“Plenty of people bring someone as a date to a function because they find them physically attractive,” Stephen argued.  The Cloak went to smack him again, but this time, he was fast enough to move away and get his hand up in time.

“Sorry, did I say a reason?  I need a few, at least,” you decided.  If there was one thing you were not doing, it was going down the route of letting Stephen Strange, Sorcerer Supreme, resident genius and occasional monumental asshole, think that he could take you places on his arm just because you were pretty and he was himself.  As much as you’d never admit it to him, you adored him and respected him, and if he got his way with this, you knew things would go south between the two of you faster than you could say, “thanks for the invitation, Tony.”  You’d heard about how he’d fucked up with Christine, and he wasn’t going to get the same chance to ruin his friendship with you. “You can fill me in on them later.”

“All right, fine,” Stephen said with a defiant huff.  “I will.  But you should know,” he added, a teasing gleam in his blue eyes, “that there’s a possibility that if you let me think about it, I’ll end up deciding that all the reasons vote in Wong’s favor.”

“Then, in that case,” you teased back, slipping your sling ring on and conjuring up a portal to your room.  You reached through and grabbed your travel-slash-teaching bag, then let the portal fizzle closed,  “you’ll have found your ideal date, and all will be well.”

A smile crept over Stephen’s face at this, and he set down his coffee and newspaper, standing up.  You knew he was going to say something, but for once, your foot-in-mouth senses weren’t going off.

“Will you be home tonight?  Or are you staying at Kamar-Taj?” He asked.

You blinked.  You weren’t sure Stephen had ever referred to the Sanctum as home before.

“I was just going to stay, since tomorrow is day two of the curse-breaking class,” you said.  “Why?”

“I was hoping you’d be back, so I could impress you with my list of reasons as to why you’re my ideal date,” Stephen said, his voice dropping into his low range.  You tried to ignore the way you liked the sound of his deep, smooth baritone.

Moments later, you found you didn’t have to try, because your foot-in-mouth senses began going off yet again.

There was something else.

“And?”  You prompted. 

Silence stretched out for a moment.

“And there’s something that I really need your opinion on,” he finally added.  You actually did groan aloud at this, a loud, frustrated sound that echoed around the Sanctum.

“We almost had a moment, Stephen.”

“Yes, well, I’m allergic to those, as you’ve so kindly told me,” he said with a wry grin.  You found yourself fighting down a smile of your own in response.  God damn him.  “It’s important, though.”

“What’s it about?”  You asked, eying your friend as you adjusted your travel bag on your shoulder.  You’d learned over the years that his definition of important could span a wide range of things, including otherwise mundane things that were elevated to that status only because they were related to him.

“I heard from Hamir late last night that there’s been an old ritual site discovered at an archeological dig in the Transian Mountains.  It appears to be heavily warded,” Stephen said, his eyes solemn as they regarded you.  “He thinks it’s an ancient curse.”

Oh, shit.  This actually was important.

“Was it our people working on it?”  You asked, hoping against all hope that the answer would somehow be yes.

“No,” Stephen said quietly.  You took a moment to process this, drawing a deep breath before speaking.

“How many dead?” 

“Seven.”

You sighed, carding one hand through your hair.  Another tragedy that you and the Masters of the Mystic Arts could have prevented.  These things so rarely went well for the non-magic people doing the early grunt work of digging out sites where black or chaos magic had once been involved, and yet, due to the relative secrecy around the Mystic Arts, it wasn’t as if you could just tell every excavation team to get in touch with you at Kamar-Taj like some sort of magical Dig-Safe.

“I know you have a lot on your plate this weekend,” Stephen said, moving closer to you and putting one hand on your shoulder.  He didn’t bother to use his magic to disguise the shaking and occasional random spasming of his fingers—not around you.  You knew his true condition all too well.  “But we need to get on this sooner than later, and I don’t want to have anyone else working on this.  I…I don’t trust anyone else with this.”

In that moment, you knew he was speaking to you about this as Stephen Strange, Sorcerer Supreme, who had to get this situation handled, but he was also speaking to you as Stephen Strange, the man in novice robes who’d latched onto you when you’d been a slightly more advanced acolyte and he’d been a fucking mess desperate to find someone who could teach him how to open even the most measly portal and maybe show him a shred of compassion and companionship without infantilizing or idolizing him in the process.  He was talking to you as the Stephen Strange who had somehow both driven you crazy and earned your profound affection since then, who had ascended to the position of Sorcerer Supreme while fending off the Zealots with you, relying on you every step of the way, who had invited you to stay at the Sanctum Sanctorum in recognition of your prowess and value to him and the Mystic Arts as a whole and who had, apparently, come to think of this shared space with you and Wong as his home.

How could you deny him this?

“Get someone to send over pictures of the site, and I’ll be back in the evening to look them over with you,” you said, watching as Stephen exhaled in relief.

“Thank you,” he said, pulling you into his broad and tall frame.  The hand on your shoulder moved to the back of your head, fingers trembling as he pressed your cheek close to the cool silk of his robe, and his other arm wrapped around your upper back, lower than your shoulders but higher than your waist.  You wrapped your arms around his chest in turn, holding him tightly.  A wave of calm washed over you, as it always did when Stephen held you, and you wondered if he felt it, too.  Was the fierce emotional magical connection between the two of you one-sided, or did you speak into his mind the way that he spoke into yours, telling him what you were going to say before you even said it?  Or was it something different for him, a knowledge of some other part of you that evolved for him before you yourself were even aware of it?  Did you even need magic to know the darkest crevices of each other’s hearts and minds anymore, or had you, over the years, shown enough light in those spaces to be able to read one another intuitively but still call it magic anyway?

“Be safe in class today,” Stephen’s voice, again in his low range, reverberated through his chest into your ear, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“I haven’t let a novice curse-breaker blow themselves—or me—up yet,” you assured him, moving to pull away from his embrace.  You were surprised, though, to find that he wasn’t ready to let go.  In fact, he held you tighter, resting his chin on top of your head.

“Good.  Because if you do, I won’t rewind time to save you,” he murmured with absolutely no seriousness behind his words whatsoever.

You pulled away in earnest this time, smirking up at Stephen.

“And then you’d get to take Wong to the Stark Industries Gala.  I see how it is,” you teased him.  He snorted and laughed, shaking his head as he slowly slid his hands off of you.

“You’re always a couple steps ahead of me,” he said, stepping back from you as you slipped your sling ring on again.

“In all seriousness,” you said, pausing before you opened a portal to Kamar-Taj.  “Wong would probably be a great date to a gala.  He’s got an excellent fashion sense, tells funnier jokes than me, and he can dance.”

“I mean, I agree he’d be a fantastic date, but—wait, how do you know he can dance?”  Stephen asked as you circled your arm, the sound of sparks crackling to life in the room.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, Stephen,” you grinned, stepping through your portal.  “I’ll see you later tonight.”

As you let the portal close, you heard Stephen ask,

“You think I’m pretty?”

[Part 2]

[mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Iron Man (Movies) Relationship: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Tony Stark, Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Stephen Strange Additional Tags: Easter Eggs, Friends to Lovers, Flirting, Friendship/Love, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Comedy, Budding Love, Humor, Snark, Companionable Snark, Sassy Tony Stark, Sassy Stephen Strange, First Kiss Language: English Published: 2024-03-30 Words: 6,150 Chapters: 1/1

Summary: Bucky's got a crush on Tony, but he's never said anything about it. To anyone. After all, Tony flirts with everyone the same, right? So, why's Tony all of a sudden quoting his favorite book in normal conversation?

From Prompts for couples that aren’t together yet For @scottxlogan: Pick your duos: 💜 Secretly reading their love interest’s favorite book so they can quote it to them later

Title from The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien

Note: There are a few fun Easter Eggs in this (as I tend to do), which is pretty appropriate for posting this the day before the holiday. Happy hunting!

[mistrdctr]

@darehearts cont. [x]

Oh, the tea is definitely magically altered - but in a different way than the young man in front of Stephen might expect. It's very much a natural product, not enhanced in any shape or form, but...

Well, whoever takes a sip of that tea will taste exactly what they want to taste, what they enjoy the most as a flavor. Magic can do some really neat things sometimes, and Strange likes to use that to his advantage; He's a good host... at least in some ways.

"Oh, yeah, I am very much a sassy dick. They're completely right about that."

"Some even say I'm an asshole. ...They, uh, might be right about that one as well."

Stephen cocks a brow, brings his own cup of tea up to a set of full lips. The taste of mint stretches across his tongue and he hums, pleased, before he lowers the cup back onto the little saucer he holds within the fingers of his other hand, bright irises lingering on his visitor.

"Whether there's more to me than that? Unsure. ---I mean, a bit, I guess, because I keep saving the world, you know. Such things. So... I might not be that bad, and at least care about earth's well-being."

"---Got to meet a lot of other superheroes before? You sound like as if you speak out of experience." A curious inquiry, because Strange is nosy sometimes.

[itsagentromanoff]

[At the Sanctum Bruce meets Peter from Tony and Stephen]

Bruce: What, you know him?

Tony: Um. Oh, yeah, that was-

Strange: Your love child! Yup, not dead! Congratulations. It's a boy!

[doctorstrangeaskblog]

Why doesn't America have a sassy Mug Yet?! She is your child, she need mug! 😵

I already got one for America Chavez. I'm waiting for her to return from the intensive training.

[smolderingflame]

New Fic Alert! From Russia With Love: (Cap/MCU) Steve/Bucky by Smolderingflame.

A special new fic celebrating 500 subs on AO3 <3

From Russia With Love by SmolderingFlame

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: Graphic depictions of violence

Category: M/M

Fandoms: Captain America/MCU

WIP

Relationship: Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes

Characters: James Barnes, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov, Tony Stark, Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, Sharon Carter, Brock Rumlow, Wanda Maximoff, Peggy Carter, Vision, Alexander Pierce, Winifred Banes, Becca Barnes, Sarah Rogers, Stephen Strange, Bruce Banner, Thor

Summary: Bucky Barnes had it all, head of the Russian mafia, a strong virile Alpha, the world at his fingertips. But, when he falls ill and diagnosed with a rare disorder, which re-presents him as an Omega, his entire life changes.

Living his life as an entirely new person he is shocked when he has a run in with Steve Rogers, a rival mafia don who has long held a grudge against him.

While hiding his true identity a love blooms between the star-crossed lovers.

But how long can Bucky keep all his secrets to himself?

Tags: AU, Modern era, Russian Mafia, Italian Mafia, organized crime, Mob boss!steve rogers, Mob boss! bucky barnes, prostitution, sex worker!bucky barnes, alpha becoming an omega, LGBTQ+ themes, revenge, dark!bucky barnes, sassy!bucky barnes, sugar daddy!steve rogers, sugar baby!bucky barnes, daddy kink, size kink, body worship, slut shaming, abuse, personality changes, Omegaverse, Body Modification, out of character, possible mpreg, drama and romance, dark steve rogers, post-serum steve rogers, bearded steve rogers, , bucky barnes feels, bucky barnes needs a hug, possessive steve rogers, attempted non-con, crossdressing, feminization, top!steve rogers, bottom!bucky barnes, Omega!bucky barnes, Alpha!steve rogers

[tokoyamisstuff]

Are you happy, Strange? - Chapter 2

!Multiverse of Madness Spoilers ahead!

Stephen never opened up to anyone. Neither about his regrets of the past, nor his reoccuring nightmares of the future. But when a certain universe-traveling girl revealed that the woman in his few pleasant dreams is meant to be his Soulmate, he is determined to meet her.

Sadly, when he finally finds you, the Sorcerer has already been possessed by the Darkhold...

Warnings: Possessive! Strange, Kidnapping, Imprisonment, one Curse Word, slight Restraining if you blink

[Previous Chapter]

"Stephen Stranges in any universe share a 'psychological birthmark' where they try to control death through their ‘artistry, arrogance, and skill.’" - Benedict Cumberbatch on the Death of Donna Strange, Stephen's sister

Being the guardian of a Sanctum Sanctorum certainly had it's perks among all the responsibility.

For example, there was ancient knowledge meant for only your eyes, rooms only the head of the residence could step foot in.

The New York temple had close to no other preservers aside from Stephen, and regular visitors were more than rare. Only Wong was a possible threat for Stephen's plans, however he had yet to discover what chokehold the Dark Magic had on his friend. Well, he was neither fond of long visits, nor sticking his nose in Strange's business as far as the world was in no danger.

Because after all, Dr. Strange was a hero that had protected the world from countless magical and mystical threats without fail. The bond of trust between the two sorcerers was inseparable, even through everything they've been through.

Yet it didn't get unnoticed that ever since the incident, Strange was behaving different from his usual self.

At first it were minor changes. He became more cynical than usual - you might say bitter, even. Isolating himself and desperately trying to numb his consciousness through alcohol.

This wasn't the first time Strange was suffering in silence like this, though. The loss of function in his hands after the accident, having to see the one he presumed to be the love of his life to marry someone else because of his own shotcomings...

...it was only natural for one's mind to be out of balance after all the things he had to witness, as well as the sacrifices this latest fight had cost.

If they didn't know any better, people could think that Strange was an actor before his life with the ancient magic. He had never been one to talk about his experiences, let alone his past. Leave it behind you and move on, or so was his philosophy.

Show no emotion, for they make you appear weak in front of both friend and foe.

And his comrades would respect the little privacy he had, sure that after a while of licking his wounds like everyone else he'd become his old, sassy and confident self again.

Today was completely different, however.

Strange seemed preoccupied by something, mind wandering off to places no one would be capable to comprehend. Several attempts of his followers to aid him in whatever was eating on his mind failed, but the sorcerer managed to keep his temper.

They must suspect anything and possibly inform Wong about his mental state, so he had to pull through with it and wait until they left on their own.

And then, the time had finally come.

Only god knows how long you've been trapped in here already, with no indication of date or time anywhere in this dark basement. As you woke up from your deep slumber you began to panic, pacing back and forth in your cell after your calls for help went unheared.

Last thing you knew was that after your morning run, the drink you got from your favourite café tasted weird for some reason. You still felt the bitter sensation on your tongue, making you feel sick.

Yes, exactly...you felt dizzy and disoriented afterwards. Staggering helplessly through the busy streets as you leaned against the wall of some building, unable to hear anything else than your own, fastened heartbeat...

...until you ran into an attractive stranger helping you, that was.

The memory alone made your anxiety skyrocket. You gulped heavily, mouth dry and throat cramping as you felt unable to suck in any air.

It all made sense now, even though you never before would've suspect someone to narcotize you. And how even? You took the cup with a lid directly from a barista!

Your mind was running miles an hour, asking yourself how you ended up in this situation or what the person who did this to you might want. Yet asides from horrific imagines, your terrified brain was unable to bring up anything that might help you escape.

No matter where exactly you were, there was no way out of it.

"Please..." you whimmered, slumping to the ground of your cell and pulling your knees to your chest, "Let me out, I beg you!"

"I'm afraid that's impossible, Y/N."

So he knew your name. And the fact that someone had answered, most likely lurking in the shadows of the room and enjoying your suffering let your blood run cold. And yet, the stranger's voice seemed so calm, so affectionate and caring in huge contrast to the scene unfolding in front of you.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous it is out there, my love?"

My love. So this is what all of this is about, your strickened soul thought as you desperately tried to make sense of it. A psychopath maybe, wanting to violate and dispose of you later.

You shuffled back as far as the little space allowed you to as the figure stepped into the dim light of the room, revealing himself.

"No way" was the only coherent thought you were able to conclude when you saw that right in front of you stood no one else than the one and only Doctor Strange. "W-Who are you?!"

The man wore a smile just as soft as his voice, his stance confident but in no way threatening. He laughed, scoffed a little at your ridiculous comment. "I'm hurt. You simply have to know me, don't you?"

"The-" you hesitated, not wanting to enrage the man who had you completely and utterly at his mercy. "The real Strange wouldn't kidnap an innocent stranger."

You were sure of it: There was simply no way it was him.

"Well, it's not that easy to explain, I'll admit" he scratched his beard almost flustered, coming even closer to the cell. "You'll understand after some time passes."

"No!" you now screamed aloud and with every syllable, you repeatedly slammed your hands against the unknown barrier that kept you from escaping. "Let. Me. Go!"

Strange sighed deeply, hands crossed behind his back in goodwill as he effortlessly crossed the barrier to your prison. "Don't you dare!" you screeched, wildly beating the air as he approached you. "S-Stay away! Do-on't to-ouch me!"

"Shh" he hushed you, gently taking ahold of your wrists to keep you from struggling against him. "I would never hurt you, okay? I swear upon the little honor I have left."

Stephen's eyes bordered on pure madness - but there was also something else: A bottomless pit of pain, and an incredible vulnerability. Something that made you believe him at least when it came to this.

Albeit how irrational it might sound, but as soon as you were in the sorcerer's embrace, you finally began to relax. Tears that had prickled on the rim of yor eyes this whole time now fell freely, needing to let out this turmoil of emotions inside of you.

Maybe his magic already had it's hold on you...

"See? It's alright" Strange spoke as he tended to you, his thumb ghosting over your cheek as it wiped the salty liquid away. "No one will ever hurt you as long as I'm alive."

"Doctor, you-" choking on a sob, you realized reasoning with this man was most likely to no avail. "Call me Stephen, please."

"This is wrong, Steven! I don't know what happened to that you'd do something like this, but you can't keep me here forever. You understand, don't you?"

He just smiled at your words, so grief-stricken and hurt that it scattered your heart into pieces, even though you barely knew the man you looked at right now.

Strange's smile would soon turn into a forced, distortet grin, which again would turn his deep chuckle into a manic laughter. Burying his head into his hands as he continued his outburst, the mage visibly seemed torn apart on the inside.

And you realized who the winner of his internal battle was when he'd face you once again.

"Fuck!" you hissed in disturbance, leaping a safe distance away from the man. A shiver ran down your spine at the third eye that had opened on the top of his forehead, all three of them staring menacingly at you.

"I knew you're not the real Strange. You're a monster! What the hell are you, you freak? What do you want from me?!"

"My, my" the doctor growled as you managed to claw at his cheek, your nails drawing blood from the skin.

Purple lightning manifested out of thin air as it entangled around your body, effectively trapping you in place. "I'm hurt, Y/N. What a terrible thing to say to your Soulmate."

"Sou- what?!" Your voice was barely above a whisper, only to scream in exasperation "You're insane! I don't even know you! What the hell..."

"As someone who has studied the Multiverse, I can guarantee you that we're meant for each other." The magical ties around you tightened when you tried to wriggle out of their hold, barely enough to not hurt you. "So if I'm the villain, what does this make you?"

Little did you know that it was Darkhold speaking, completely having it's hold on the sorcerer. "I only ever had pure intentions - when it came to you, anyways."

"The Multiverse holds more dangers than beauty, no matter how unfair it may seem. I must know it, my dear: I've seen more than most beings, yet not even close to everything." You flinched away at his attempt to soothe you, but the shackles were just as merciless as their conjurer. "My only wish is to protect you from whatever will eventually come to take you away from me."

"Please..." Your pressed your eyelids together, unwilling to cooperate in any way. "Not like this."

Stephen placed his index finger on your lips, murmuring ever so slightly. "No use to fight it. Stop and make it easier for the both of us, won't you?"

Biting your lip as he ignored your plea, you were only able to helplessly endure whatever this man was going to do to you now...

...but much to your surprise, Strange did nothing else than letting his fingers run along your cheekbone, watching in admiration before placing a sole kiss to your temple.

"Y/N, I promise you will fall for me. The Multiverse has already dictated it."

[Next Chapter]

[ao3feed-irondadspiderson]

Let's Marty McFly This Shit (and hopefully not die trying)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55387045 by StarGazer144 Peter Parker was your totally average teenager; he struggled with girls, stressed about tests, and got perpetually annoyed by his teachers. Not only that, but he was a vigilante who worked with Tony Stark, became an Avenger, died in space, and then was recruited by the most powerful being in the universe to save the world. Okay, maybe he wasn’t that normal, but could you give him a break being the modern-day Marty McFly is rough. For instance, how on earth are you supposed to stop one of the biggest superhero showdowns in recorded history? Peter sure as hell doesn’t know, but he has twelve hours to figure it out. Wish your Friendly not-so-neighborhood Spider-man some luck because he sure as hell is going to need it. TL;DR: Peter Parker Travels back in time to save the world with a ghostly Gamora to help him along the way. Words: 2079, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English Fandoms: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: Gen Characters: Gamora (Marvel), Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Stephen Strange, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Happy Hogan, Aunt May Parker (Marvel), Ned Leeds, Karen (Spider-Man: Homecoming) Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Gamora & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Happy Hogan & Peter Parker, Stephen Strange & Peter Parker, Aunt May Parker & Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker Additional Tags: Sentient Infinity Stones (Marvel), Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, BAMF Peter Parker, Protective Gamora (Marvel), BAMF Gamora (Marvel), all Gamora tags are (kinda) cause it's not fully her, Smart Peter Parker, Sassy Peter Parker, Good Friend Ned Leeds, Good Friend Tony Stark, Civil War Team Iron Man, No Bashing but I do disagree with somethings Captain America did, Protective Tony Stark, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Fix-It, Other Additional Tags to Be Added read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/55387045

[doctorofmagic]

Strange #8 Review

Super late to the party, as usual. Sorry about that...

I already posted the preview with Stephen reuniting with Bats, Wong and even Pandora, but I don’t care, I’ll post it again because it’s very wholesome.

I do understand Clea’s frustration, though. They've been separated for so long, both physically and emotionally. And now that they confessed they still love each other, they can’t even touch. Still, I’m not that worried because yes, DS v6 has been confirmed and they’ll be together once more!

To be honest, I wasn’t too hooked on the flashback, although I did love Stephen’s smugness (I missed that a lot). And I mean, it’s quite obvious that he isn’t into crypto (he barely understands basic technology, for starters), but I loved this all the same, just in case some tiktok weirdos come up with bad headcanons like “Strange is a crypto dude and buys NFTs”. I don’t doubt these people’s lack of sense, they made a trend on pronouns once and said Stephen wouldn’t care about them. Much to their despair, Stephen respects pronouns so having canon material to shut them up is always a good thing. Ah, but I digress.

It was revealed them that Director None was the head of W.A.N.D.’s task group Bravo Charlie, also known as the Blasphemy Cartel. So this is where they come from. Why they’re summoning the revenants? We don’t know yet, but I do have a feeling that we’ll learn it pretty soon, if not next week, then in the final issue.

I was just so scared that Wong’s memories would be a result of Stephen’s doing because writers of the past used to do that (as in, Illuminati era). But I’m really grateful that Jed simply loves Stephen and portrays him in a way that matches his smugness, kindness, sassiness and altruism. I also forgive Pandora for lying to Wong. she had no choice since she was their main target. She’s cool and I loved their banter!

My only complaint here is the fact that it sounds super fishy that an intel task force, a branch from the best spy agency in the world, wasn’t aware of what Clea was capable of. Sure, she was often sided in many stories and was weaker on Earth’s dimension (because Vishanti forbid women be stronger than their male partners), but still???? First, she was a Defender. Not just once but twice in the (ew) Fearless Defenders era. It’s not like she was hiding her power. And again, it’s a spy agency!! You can’t tell me they had contingency plans for Wong and not Clea, especially knowing that Wong hardly fought outside the Sanctum (maybe once in Damnation? And that’s it). Point is, they’re dumb for not considering her. (Also, between you and me, they could have countermeasures for Victor all they wanted, they’d never stop him, especially if he were the Sorcerer Supreme lol)

Aaaaand here’s my favorite panel after the hugs! Smug powerful couple ready to end Director None’s whole career. I can’t wait!

[ironstrangeao3]

Marvel University

by zenotriv

Tony has gotten a... interesting invitation from Marvel University. He gets into a dorm room with one of the boys playing in the marching band, going by the name Scott Lang.

Tony thinks everything is fine. Whats the worst that could happen?

—

Completed: No

Words: 852, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 2 of ACU, Part 2 of MCU

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage

Categories: M/M, Other

Characters: Tony Stark, Peter Quill, Stephen Strange, Scott Lang, Clint Barton, Thor (Marvel), Loki (Marvel), Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Nick Fury, Phil Coulson, Peter Parker, Other Marvel Characters

Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange, Scott Lang/Peter Quill, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov (SIBLINGS)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Canon-Typical Violence, Fist Fights, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange Parenting Peter Parker | Supremefamily | Strange Family, Scott Lang Needs a Hug, Sassy Peter Quill, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Protective Stephen Strange, Possessive Behavior, Gay, Everyone Is Gay, Not Scott Lang Friendly

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/46773169