#matchmaker cloakie

[cerene-ciderr]

Hullo dear- wanted to thank you for your lovely comment on A Strange Slice of the Big Apple! And since I can't simply hit reply, it has to be by Ask.

I love writing Cloakie as a matchmaker and as the one that knows Stephen almost better than he knows himself.

And I love writing Stephen with children. He has such a big, kind heart, and I feel like he finds their natural honesty priceless, especially in light of the cynicism that marked his old life. Despite his doubts about stepping into the role of a parental figure, we've seen him do so beautifully, and I believe any child would be blessed to call him dad.🥰

(I'm sure you know I do RP with a couple of Stephens here, and one of them is adamant in Stephen's fear of repeating the painful mistakes his own father made raising him. I like to gently insist it's because of the pain of his childhood, that he'd be an excellent father--as we've seen him with Peter and America. Stephen just can't see what a good, remarkable heart he has. My RP character has ever tried to convince himself he's a good, good man. If she had her druthers, she'd want children with him [who among us wouldn't!!]--but she keeps that to herself, hoping the day might come when he sees the sense of it and changes his mind!)

I can only agree with everything you said about him being a father! I totally get where his fear would come from (my dad wasn’t stellar either) and if he never had kids I’d be fine with that...but also I want to see him with a family because I think it would bring him so much joy. If he could get past the trauma he would thrive as a parent. (Have you read “World’s best Dad” by strange-mischief ? It’s adorable and a personal favorite of mine for Dad Strange. He’s a single dilf parent and the reader is his daughter’s teacher.) I'm glad you have RPs where she can chip away at that fear of his.

I totally see him enjoying kids being so blunt. If a kid tells an adult they have stinky breath, most are going to be offended and tell the kid how rude they're being. If said kid tells Strange the same thing, I think he’d grab a mint be grateful he was told before he left the house. Kids are just a breath of fresh air with their honesty.

Back to the cloak, I’ve always pictured it as a young kid. The mannerisms just scream childish energy to me – reading over Wong’s shoulder in the commercial, how it canonically hates the clothing equivalent of a bath, being notoriously picky about it’s masters, the zoomies and happy wiggles, the attitude… In that sense, Stephen has a lot of practice parenting and doesn’t realize it. He’s already great with kids, he has one with him 24/7

#ask #ciderr answers #didn't get a notification about your ask. I would've answered this earlier if I knew it was in my inbox! #doctor strange

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

A Strange Birthday Surprise

a Doctor Strange x Reader fic by sobeautifullyobsessed 

shoutout to my two favorite tumblr doctors @doctorstrangeaskblog and @doctor-stephenstrange

Author’s note: November 18th is Stephen’s birthday in Marvel canon; this fic takes place pre-Infinity War

chapters 1-2

Chapter One

Cloak knew its Sorcerer well; knew him well enough to have a keen understanding of Stephen’s feelings about the upcoming milestone.  Feelings that ran even deeper than Stephen himself realized.  Oh, he acted blasé about the matter—as though he had outgrown celebrating the year’s experiences and accomplishments, not to mention the spectacular success he’d had in his mastery of the Mystic Arts; the unqualified success which had eventually led to his appointment as Master of the New York Sanctum.

Having finally achieved the honest humility that would have suited him equally as a doctor, as it did now as a sorcerer in service to humanity, Stephen rarely allowed himself to dwell upon what he had once thought of as  his glory days—the years he had been admired and celebrated as the best in his profession, had been sought after for high-profile speaking engagements and media interviews, had lived a fast, opulent lifestyle, while single-mindedly advancing the science of neurosurgery to spectacular heights.  Days when he had never thought twice about throwing himself a self-indulgent birthday party, sparing no expense.  Such memories left him with a strong sense of shame, as so many of his recollections of his selfish behavior in his old life.

Cloak understood it all, as well as Stephen’s sadness over his softer memories—especially those of the quiet birthday getaways he had spent with Christine, which he had come to realize too late, were the best birthdays of his life.  But Christine had moved on—for the best, Stephen acknowledged, if only to himself—and he knew he could never return to those days.  And for the most part, he didn’t want to—for he understood now what was most important in the grand scheme of things, and had accepted that his birthday was just an unnecessary distraction from the vital mission that was his now.

However, deep in his heart—deep and hidden from his consciousness—Stephen wished that someone, anyone, would just remember, and simply acknowledge that it was his birthday. Cloak—who knew the best of Stephen, and who had not only witnessed him sacrificing himself a thousand times over to save Earth from Dormammu and the Dark Dimension, but had also accompanied him on several dozen other forays against threats from throughout the multiverse—decided it would just have to find a way to see that unspoken wish fulfilled.

                                ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞

Of course, Cloak realized that this was a task far beyond its own physical capabilities, so that it would need the help of a human ally.  It’s first thought had been to reach out to Christine, but Cloak summarily rejected that as an impossibility—even if she might be inclined to arrange for a birthday celebration despite having closed the door on their intimate past, Cloak couldn’t be seen zipping about the City to her hospital or apartment, out of the company of its Sorcerer.  Such behavior could jeopardize the secrecy of the New York Sanctum, let alone that of the Mystic Brotherhood that served so selflessly in Earth’s defense.  If Cloak were to find the help it needed it would have to be an initiate of the Mystic Arts, and in order to guarantee the best communication between Relic and Human, it should be someone with whom Cloak already shared an affinity.

Several months back, there had been an Adept who accompanied a group of younglings from Kamar-Taj on a tour of the New York Sanctum; Cloak had perceived right away that she held strong feelings of admiration for Stephen Strange.  Beyond the typical hero-worship it often sensed among impressionable Novices and callow Adepts, this one’s attitude was colored by something more personal—a romantic “crush”, as humans referred to it.  This one would be an ideal choice to assist with Cloak’s plan; it would only require a visit to Kamar-Taj for Cloak to reach out to her, and Strange was actually planning one quite soon.  Surely this was more than just a coincidence, Cloak decided; surely the stars themselves had aligned enough to turn that plan into reality.

۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ 

Chapter Two

Full length mirrors were a rare commodity in Kamar-Taj, and were primarily utilized for magical purposes rather than just as a looking glass. Individual quarters were equipped with small wall mirrors for grooming purposes---so that you were unable to check how you looked in you new robes before you left your room for the day. But they fit as though custom made, and they felt damn good, so you trusted that you looked as fine as you felt.

Masters robes at last! There had been a few times you had doubted that your path was truly meant to achieve them. But this week you had successfully completed the last of your required courses, had demonstrated your command of all the necessary spells, charms, incantations and potions, in addition to your well-honed skills in battle magic and martial arts---and had fulfilled all the practical tests of experience and performance as part of dozens of missions under the guidance of various masters.

Thus given your choice at last, you had selected Master’s robes of blue and tan. Though the blue was a darker shade than his own, making that selection was still your homage to the Master you had come to admire most (and on whom you maintained a secret crush)---Doctor Stephen Strange. The fact that he was due for a visit today for his regular consultation with other leading Masters of the Mystic Brotherhood was not lost on you; it seemed a happy coincidence that it was also the first day on which you would officially don the regalia of you newly awarded rank.

One last time, you checked your sash to make sure that the knotting lay properly, and that your sling ring hung securely in place, before heading out to the communal dining hall for breakfast. Though your friends and classmates were sure to offer their congratulations once they saw you in your new attire, you found yourself hoping above all that your path would somehow cross with that of the Master of the New York Sanctum. The sooner the better, so he would see for himself that you had attained that milestone rank.

                               ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞

Since you visit to the new York Sanctum as chaperone for a group of young novices on a field trip, you’d been back there on numerous occasions. All too briefly, as you smitten heart was concerned, but then that was never the purpose of those visits. You had relished every opportunity to interact with the brilliant Sanctum Master in residence, who had been as kind, as friendly, and as drolly self-deprecating to you as on that lovely spring day you had accompanied the children---even inquiring about the progress of your studies and offering the use of the Sanctum’s unique resources to broaden your knowledge.

Even better than that, though, Doctor Strange had asked for your assistance with a magical mission in late August, having been impressed by your rapport with and supervision of the younglings training in Kamar-Taj. An orphanage in a small city in Romania had been experiencing an epidemic of severe malaise among the children residing there, though the adults appeared to suffer no ill effects. Several of the orphans had lapsed into inexplicable comas, and after some investigation, local Sorcerers had concluded that a nest of psychic vampyres from a parallel dimension had discovered an ingress into Earth’s reality from it’s own, and were feasting at will upon the vulnerable children. In retrospect, the Mystic Brotherhood eventually determined that those beings were very likely the true source of the Dracula legend. 

Strange had headed the team dispatched to Romania, which had done a thorough search to root out any of the malignant creatures hiding in the area, forced them back into their own dimension and then sealed shut the breach that had allowed them entry to Earth. Your task had been not only to assist in the main mission, but to then remain behind a few weeks to keep an eye on the seal to be sure it remained intact, while aiding the Healers with the children as their health eventually improved. Your favorite part of the job, however, consisted of daily, in-person updates to Strange himself, until the Masters were able to conclude that the area had been rendered permanently safe from further threat of attack.

Today, you barely heard the conversations around you and only managed to eat half of your breakfast, what with the butterflies fluttering in your stomach in anticipation of seeing him again. If your timing was right, you’d be casually crossing the courtyard just as the dashing Master of the New York Sanctum was set to arrive.

And sure enough, there he as chatting in the midst of a small group of Masters, including Wong, who now doubled as the compound Master Librarian while also assisting Doctor Strange in Greenwich Village whenever the need arose. You straightened your shoulders, took a depth breath, and began to stride on a parallel course to where Strange stood. Please look my way, you were thinking, just a glance enough to see me in these robes...

With a surprising bit of good fortune, Stephen actually did look your way, flashing you that dear, amused smile---which never failed to make your heart sigh with longing---and then giving a quick little wave. You couldn’t help the smile which you beamed back, fingers crossed that he had taken note of you new robes.

What you hadn’t expected was a sudden flash of red as the Cloak of Levitation flew as swift and straight as an arrow to envelope you in a warm, soft embrace...

(to be continued)

#my writing #A Strange Birthday Surprise #fluff and fun #Doctor Strange x Reader #Doctor Strange #Stephen Strange #Cloak of Levitation #Cloakie #Matchmaking Cloakie #Happy Birthday Stephen! #Strangebatch #My Eternal Muse #wish I had a better title for it #oh and there might be some kissing towards the end of the story ;-)

[mianmimi]

Whenever I see a headcanon that says Cloaky and Stephen are bonded, that relics and their masters have a psychic and empathic connection, all I can think about is Mordo and Stephen standing next to each other, talking about whatever, and then Mordo jumps a bit and goes, "Did you... did you just squeeze my arse?" But it wasn't Stephen, it was Cloaky, because even a sentient piece of fabric knows that booty needs a good squeeze every now and then. Master, I sensed you wanted 'dat ass' was I good?

I love this scenario. Especially if they’re still at the stage where they’re clearly interested in each other but still dancing around the prospect of it, not sure who and how to make the first move. Then Cloaky’s sensing all this tension between them and goes fuck it *squeeze* Meanwhile the boots are stumbling to get Mordo closer to Stephen.

Relic matchmakers. Reliable 100%. They know their masters better than anyone. Cloaky knows Stephen’s been eyeing that ass. Boots know that Mordo’s been pining for Stephen and moaning his name in his sleep. Time to work together to end this misery! Let’s get our masters together!

Great...now I’m imagining the song from Parent Trap, “Let’s Get Together,” while a montage plays of the relics doing their best to get these two together.

https://youtu.be/B3W8gHB-7PU

Cue Cloaky tripping Stephen to land right on Mordo. Or the boots running away from Mordo so he runs right into the shower where Stephen’s struggling to get his clothes off, the scenarios go on! ;)

#strordo #stephen strange/karl mordo #otp feels #relics #cloak of levitation #boots of valtorr #relic matchmakers #ask and answer #songs for strordo

[ironstrange-is-the-endgame]

top ten ironstrange headcanons

I’ll go with headcanons I saw around/are popular in fanfics and I like (and then I’ll probably throw some of mine that I’d like to see more, but I’m not sure):

1. Stephen falls for Tony while looking into all the different futures on Titan, but Tony starts to have feelings for him/understand that he’s not completely immune to Stephen’s charm when they are speaking on the flying doughnut;

2. They just being there for the other, supporting each other through panic attacks and breakdowns;

3. Stephen running away after the Snap is reversed because he can’t bear the idea of seeing Tony happy with someone else. Tony following him and kissing him on the Sanctum threshold;

4. (not strictly ironstrange, as in supreme family) Stephen takes care of Peter while they are in the Soul Dimension and Peter tells him about how great and fantastic Tony is, and how much Peter wants to be like him. He doesn’t want Spider-Man to be like IronMan, he wants to be like Tony Stark. Also, with the passing of time in the Soul Dimension Peter decided that even Stephen is a super good model;

5. Any self-sacrificing idiots trope, I really love those! Also, Tony and Stephen argue because the other is a giant self-sacrificing idiot;

6. Cuddling! I’m not even a romantic person, but I think this work perfectly with them. Both of them are tactile persons even if in a different way. Tony is more obvious while Stephen’s touches are usually more subtle but they both love to touch the other and when they are alone they cuddle A LOT!

7. Tony showing off Stephen every given occasion, both with the other Avengers and with the public. He just wants to show how much he loves his magic boyfriend;

8. A super duper extra wedding ceremony! I don’t even now if it’s a headcanon or just something I want to see more, wedding fics/arts/whatever;

9. The Cloak ships it. You can’t change my mind. I headcanon that Cloakie is aware of Stephen’s feelings and once it figures out that its Master has a crush on Tony it does everything in its power to play matchmaker;

10. They both are horny and kinky as fuck! This is canon, I didn’t make the rules there. 

#anonymous #ironstrange #strangeiron #supreme family #supremefamily #asks #top 5/10 meme

[my-ao3feed-trial]

I must have died alone, a long, long time ago

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2BKHxjT

by cutebutpsyco

MARVEL HOLIDAY SWAP || Their relationship was weird at best. It wasn’t like someone could expect for something different either, but Stark was one of the few people about whom Stephen cared. In his weird way, not showing it even in the slightest, but he did.

Words: 3479, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Doctor Strange (2016)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: M/M

Characters: Tony Stark, Stephen Strange, Peter Parker, Friday (Marvel), Harley Keener - mentioned, Cloak of Levitation - Character, Bruce Banner - Mentioned, Carol Danvers - mentioned - Character

Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange

Additional Tags: Pre-Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Tony Stark Has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Panic Attacks, grapich description of violence - mentioned, Stephen Strange takes care of Tony, the cloak is a matchmaker, Cloakie ships it, Harley Keener is the Iron Lad, Happy Ending

read it on the AO3 at http://bit.ly/2BKHxjT

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #harley keener #iron man #mcu

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

A Strange Birthday Surprise - chapter four

a Doctor Strange x Reader fic by @sobeautifullyobsessed​

Chapters 1-3 on AO3

author’s note: this story takes place pre-Infinity War

Chapter Four

When it comes to the world of magic and mysticism, even the most meticulously planned events can meet with failure. Though you knew this to be true, you couldn’t help feeling disappointed and downright glum. The birthday banner still hung in the darkened dining hall, with the balloons and streamers left behind as the guests had departed in small groups once it had been clear that the guest of honor was going to be a no-show.

The young Novices you’d brought along to Strange’s Sanctum had been disappointed too; you had taught them to sing Happy Birthday, first in English and then in Nepali, but then they never got the chance. You had cut the cake and dished out the ice cream for them as a consolation prize, setting aside a generous sized slice for Stephen---not even sure when he might return from what was supposed to have been a cakewalk of a mission.

And of course, you had begun to fret a bit for Stephen’s safety. Cloak was supposed to make sure they returned hours ago. Although Strange was the most brilliant, gifted Sorcerer that had arisen in the Mystic Brotherhood since The Ancient One herself, he was still a mortal man---and even Cloak, for all its dedication and loyalty, could not guarantee his well-being when confronted with unknown, staggering odds. You wished you had the Gift of Sight, so you might catch of glimpse of how your Hero and his stalwart companion fared---while part of you wondered if you should gather the supplies needed should you decide on attempting to scry out his location.

Perhaps Strange was in need of help, trapped in mystical, even nefarious, entanglements. If so, you were more than willing to hazard yourself to come to his aid. Conjuring a simple hourglass, you vowed to wait for only half the contents to spill into its bottom half, and if he hadn’t returned to his Sanctum by then you would set out to search for him.

                        ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞ ۞

Cloak had finally managed to pull its beloved, battle-singed and weary Sorcerer from the clean-up that had followed a nasty and completely unexpected confrontation. The pair had been inadvertently caught in the middle of an intense tribal rivalry between two villages on the outskirts of the Amazon Rainforest. In a bid to settle the conflict, both village Shamans had reached out to Kamar-Taj, requesting the aid of a Master to help them negotiate the peace, and Stephen had been tapped to adjudicate the meeting.

Things had gone awry about twenty minutes into the assembly of the tribe Elders, Shamans, and Strange, when a group of about two dozen villagers (from both tribes) who had been taken under the influence of a Dark Magician---one who thrived upon chaos of any kind---had begun hurling bottled curses at them, which were unleashed when their containers shattered. With the help of the Shamans, Stephen had set up protective wards and then summoned further assistance from Kathmandu. The coterie of Sorcerers had freed the entranced villagers of the Dark Magician’s enchantment, eventually leaving Stephen to root out and vanquish the evil doer. However, that had proven far more difficult than he had anticipated, for the villain had left scores of booby traps---both magical and mortal---to protect his lair. In the end, Stephen had needed several of his fellow Sorcerers to overcome and then banish the Dark Magician to a pocket dimension.

Once the portal back to New York had closed behind them, Cloak began to pull Stephen to the dining hall, knowing that his surprise party awaited him there. “Hold up,” Stephen had growled, “All I want right now is a long, hot shower. I can grab something to eat later.” Cloak only tugged at him all the harder, while making sure it blocked him from receiving any of its thoughts and emotions, in order to keep the secret. The completion of the plan it had hatched weeks ago was only a trip down two flights of stairs away.

Cloak could feel its Sorcerer’s agitation growing with each dragged footstep, and at the second floor landing Stephen decided that he had enough, trying his best to shrug his Relic off. “Goddammit, I’m in no mood for this. Let me go!” He continued to struggle heroically, even as they arrived at the entrance to the dining hall.

If Cloak had an actual head, it surely would have scratched it, dumbfounded that the room was dark and empty. That was a strong enough reaction that Stephen did feel it, moving him to pose the question, “Just what were you expecting?” In the darkness, he wasn’t able to discern the decorations that had been meant for his celebration.

Cloak gave no answer, but immediately flitted away, zipping along the hallway in search of answers---eventually locating you sitting dejectedly in the kitchen. You blinked in surprise and relief, certain that its presence meant that Stephen Strange was home and safe. Cloak flashed its version of two thumbs up, then rushed off to collect Stephen.

Wasting no time, you banished the hourglass and snapped your fingers to light the few candles you had placed on the slice of birthday cake you’d saved for your Hero (and unrepentant crush). Your heart was racing with happy anticipation while you considered if you should try to sing the birthday song to him by yourself. Any notes you might have uttered fell short when you saw Stephen’s battle worn state as Cloak ushered him into the room.

His brow remained furrowed for a moment, until he took in the full picture, with you and the lit candles enough to explain Cloak’s seemingly bizarre behavior. Cloak itself had withdrawn to the hall just outside the kitchen, content that its mission been accomplished---if not in the measure it had hoped for, at least in the spirit of offering Stephen birthday wishes.

Stephen’s expression had softened once he realized what you’d done for him, and he gifted you the easy smile you adored. “You two were in cahoots, weren’t you?” You nodded, momentarily tongue-tied at the dashing figure he cut---the soot of magical battle still coloring his cheekbones and robes---combined with the growing light of amusement in his compelling eyes. “How did you know?”

“It was Cloak’s idea…Stephen,” you managed, still feeling the novelty of calling him by his given name, as he came to stand across the table from you, “It wanted to be sure you weren’t forgotten on your birthday.” You lowered your eyes, made almost too shy by the warm appraisal in his gaze to reveal your part of the plan. “It asked for my help…”

“That day at Kamar-Taj,” he marveled, grinning.

“Uh…yes. And I’ve been more than happy to do it…” You dared to meet his eyes again, which immediately stirred those familiar butterflies in your tummy.

“Hmmmmm,” he mused, “Well I’ll be damned…”

You found your fingers itching to set right the errant curl draped across his forehead, and bit you lip at the pleasant shiver that ran up your spine from the way he was watching you. “Once I understood what Cloak wanted for you, I set it all up…I even asked Master Wong to find an easy task to keep you out of the Sanctum while I decorated and greeted the guests,” you explained. “It was supposed to be easy, I swear. I’m guessing something went wrong…”

“A bit,” he nodded, and you guessed he was trying to play down the severity of what had actually happened, “But nothing I couldn’t handle. Pretty close to routine, in fact.”

“Really,” you scoffed, liking him even more for attempting to spare your feelings, “You look like you’ve been in the thick of it…Stephen.”

He shook his head, waving off your concern, “Nah---just another day in the life…”

“Well, somehow I believe you’re being too modest,” you countered, “But, be that as it may, Happy Birthday, Doctor Strange, for, uh…for what it’s worth.”

“Thank you, N/Y. That means a lot, coming from you this way.” He took a seat at the end of the table, closer to where you stood.

“There were guests, of course. Cake and ice cream.” You felt yourself begin to relax, and moved your chair to the corner of the table to sit next to him. “I had some of the younglings here too; they were very excited for the chance to sing for you.”

“Then I’m doubly sorry to have missed it,” he murmured, the warmth of his voice thrumming through you as it always did when he was this close. “But at least there’s still cake and candles and…and you to help me celebrate. Quietly.” Stephen laid his hand atop yours, the contact making your skin tingle. Making you wish he might do more. So much more.

You spotted Cloak pop its collar just around the door jamb, as though checking up on you. It seemed to nod slowly, knowingly even, and then it flew away.

“So…um…maybe you should blow out the candles before they burn all the way down?”

“Yes…I guess I should.” Stephen twirled his forefinger and the overhead light dimmed by half. “Mood lighting,” he smiled, as you watched the candlelight dance in his eyes. He twirled his finger again and the small clock radio on the kitchen counter came to life. Your jaw dropped when If You Were Here began playing.

“Hey, isn’t this…” you started, and then took his cheeky grin for an affirmative answer. You wondered if the low light was still enough for him to see that you were blushing at that reference to that old movie from the 80’s which featured this song.

When he bent close to the cake, he paused a moment, long enough for you to remind him, “Be sure to make a wish.”

“Oh, I will, N/Y. Count on it.” Stephen puckered his beautiful, tempting lips, closed his eyes, and blew out the flames with one decisive breath.

Your voice went low and husky without you really meaning it to, “Happy Birthday, Stephen. And many, many happy returns.”

That drew his eyes back to yours. An air of expectancy filled the little space between you two, and you were very aware of the moment that his rather molten gaze dropped to your lips, while the Thompson Twins sang on. …but just like the rain, I’ll always be falling, yeah…only to rise and fall again…

Stunned and amazed by what seemed to be happening, you were barely able to whisper, “What did you wish for?”

He chuckled softly, “Well now, if I tell you, it won’t come true---will it?”

“I…I dunno…” He had laced his fingers through yours and his face was as nearly as close as it could get.

“Maybe…maybe the best wishes come true all on their own,” you suggested, “If we wish hard enough.”

“Or if such a wish is shared by two, don’t you think?” He had parted his lips slightly, waiting upon your reply, and the need you felt to taste them was undeniable. All you could do was nod slightly, whetting you own lips in anticipation. Stephen wore that little quirk of a smile, one of a hundred things about him you had memorized and adored, as he tilted your chin up with the lightest touch, whispering, “Happy Birthday to me, after all…”

He began with the gentlest brush of his lips to yours, so alike some of your fantasies of him that you briefly wondered if you were dreaming yet again. Then he plumped his lush bottom lip against yours, and even in this you could feel him smile, while he delivered several quiet kisses more, lingering longer with each one until you parted your lips to allow him to deepen the connection.

You were trembling---had always known that you would if this moment ever came to pass---and Stephen cupped your face in his hands to steady you. His strong, powerful hands so warm against your skin, as he stroked his thumbs along your cheekbones. He tasted of spearmint gum, of magic, and of long-delayed satisfaction. He tasted like he’d been wanting to kiss you as badly as you had wanted to kiss him for many months now, and of patience truly being worth the wait. His kiss was the heaven you had been waiting for most of your adult life.

When he finally parted from your lips, Stephen kept your face sweetly cradled, unwilling to be more than a breath apart from you. “Cloak was right again,” he muttered, “Cloak is almost always right.”

“Oh?” You asked him breathlessly, “That I’ve had a crush on you for, like…forever?”

“No,” he breathed against your tender, hungry lips, “That I should kiss you at the soonest opportunity. And for as long as humanly possible.”

“That’s one brilliant Relic you have there, Stephen.” You landed a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth, “And I think we need to follow its advice to the letter…”

“Mmmmmmmm,” he rumbled, more than ready to do just that, “And birthday kisses are just the beginning…” 

This time his lips became more urgent, and so deliciously demanding that you would always remember them as...swoon worthy. An old fashioned expression, surely, but utterly true in this case.  Stephen was sweeping you off your feet, though you remained solidly in place, making you melt under the silken play of his tongue against yours, leaving you to hope he liked the little sounds of pleasure you were making for him. When he drifted his lips across your cheek and then your jaw you couldn’t help but moan your ecstasy, certain you would remember this interlude, this night, as the most glorious of your life. 

Stephen gave over a satisfied moan when you finally braved running your fingers through his hair, and that really was one of the most beautiful sounds you’d heard in your life. “Don’t you dare stop now, N/Y.  I’ve been needing this for far too long.” 

You giggled when his whiskers tickled the hollow of your throat, and you could feel him smile against your sensitive skin in response. Grown braver than ever from his scrumptious attentions, you asked a rather cheeky question amid the pants and moans he drew from you. “So tell me please, Stephen---has your birthday wish come true?”

You felt the smooth dark chocolate of his pleased rumble fill your chest, while happiness filled your heart. “Hmmmmmm...in part, yes...”

“And,” you asked him breathlessly, “What more can there be?”

Stephen pulled back enough to meet your eyes, his own dark with unspoken desires, “As I said before, if I say it out loud it might not come true.” He lifted a single brow, his eyes flaring as he promised you, “But my birthday isn’t over for a few hours more, so let’s see what else we can make come true, shall we?”

Anything you want you beautiful man, you were thinking as he dived in for a passion filled kiss, anything and everything will absolutely do.

author’s note: the movie mentioned is Sixteen Candles; click on the link to hear the song

tagging my favorite tumblr doctors @doctorstrangeaskblog​ and @doctor-stephenstrange​  

#my writing #A Strange Birthday Surprise #Stephen Strange x Reader #Happy Birthday Doctor Strange! #Stephen Strange #Doctor Strange #Strangebatch #My Eternal Muse #Matchmaking Cloakie

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

I spent much of my day off writing (bliss!) the final chapter for one of my WIPs---but I’ve fallen short of finishing the chapter (and being able to post it while I have online access) by about 3-4 paragraphs. That always seems to be the way, especially when I’m super excited to share it. Alas now, it may have to wait until Thursday or Friday.

On the up side, I know I will never, ever, ever tire of writing kisses for Stephen Strange and those ladies lucky enough to be the kiss-ees!

#trials & tribulations of a writer #my writing #Strangebatch #Strangebatch kisses #A Strange Birthday Surprise #Stephen Strange x Reader #Stephen Strange #Cloak #Matchmaking Cloakie #Doctor Strange #[I did an ingenious little thing in this chapter that I know my very loyal Readers are going to appreciate and maybe even squee a bit for]