#strangebatch

After the wedding, we retired to a honeymoon suite that Tony had offered up. Stephen carried me over the threshold traditionally not via a portal, he decided he wanted at least some normal parts of a wedding. That was the whole point of having a second wedding.

Strange practically tumbled me onto the bed and started loosening his tie.

"Woah someone can't wait tonight, relax it's our honeymoon" sitting up and taking his hands in mine gently taking the fingers away from the loosened tie.

"I want to make another one. A baby that is not an interdimensional rift"

"You want another one already. Like literally right now. You know how much trouble chalice caused us"

"Well my little wife. I want to make lot with you. Plus it's a lot more fun making one intentionally ."

"Ok calm down Daddy," I smirked. A pang jolted through Stephen, his blue eyes dilated.

"You finally did it. You called me Daddy!"

"Oh, no little one you will be calling me Daddy from now on. No more of that old man business." Grabbing my ass pulling me into him, as I stood up from the bed. his dress trousers are straining half-mast already. "Do you understand how delicious that sounds coming out of your mouth, wife?"

"I'd been saving it up. Anyway, you ARE a daddy now old man" getting on my knees,

Poking him in the chest. Before continuing to take off the tie.

"Well if I can't continue with the old man routine.  What about you calling me little one? I'm not that girl you followed into a wine closet."

"No, you're not. Yes, it does work both ways. You are a woman. A bright celestial goddess. You are all women to me. Every inch of your curves, your pinprick scars that litter your body. Your blood that runs hot and your milk that flows to feed our child. Are all women, My wife" capturing our lips together. “Now Goddess, I wish for you to get back on this bed.”

“In the dress still?” Swaying the skirts of the tulle back and forth. Watching his eyes change to that of hunger, like a snake being hypnotised by the movement. ”Be a shame to waste the lingerie underneath, i know how much you adore your Wife in it”

A low growl escapes his mouth in pleasure, before flicking his hand to the side of him the dress falling off around my ankles and sliding away much as the cape does with its scared. Bared to him the pump this time was attached to my arm hidden by the voluminous sleeves of the dress. “You never fail to surprise me my goddess with your pump-hiding skills”

“Face it it's one of the reasons you like me.”

“Oh its up there on the list with many things I love about you Chrissy. Including your underwear choices.” his hands reach out enjoying touching the golden yellow bra cup, the silk gliding over his fingertips. Not that he could feel it but silk gave his hands a nice cooling sensation. The white lace edges contrasted beautifully, and don't even get him started on the thong that was barely there.

Looking up at him I capture his lips again, his grip tightening on my breast. “It's time to get you undressed too.” whispering between kisses. I grab hold of his wrist though before he can magically remove them.” no magic!” As I discard his suit jacket, he stops groping me to shake his hands in defeat. Getting to work on the shirt buttons. Every Centimetre relieved of his porcelain skin had me giddy with joy. My hand sliding inside his shirt to feel the skin-to-skin contact, making light tracings over this well-toned lean pecs before continuing the shirt removal.

“We're going to be all night if you keep up like this.”

“Paintance Wizard, we've got the rest of our lives together.”

“Well the former supreme has waited 1000’s years , I think I owe it to him to speed this up.” flicking his trousers off to join the rest of the suit. before taking each side of my face and receiving a hungry kiss. My own hands are firmly pressed on his chest as he walks me backwards onto the bed. “Now my beautiful wife do as I say and spread those legs.”

Moving into the centre of the bed, complying with his demands. Coyly opening my legs wide to show off the barely-there underwear.The bed dipped lightly as he sits in front on his knees eys filled with lust before even touching me his hands connecting to my hips all the same. As with his best grip possible the coolness of them glade down the sides of the thong. Removing them “see you don't need magic to do everything.”

“You always say that but I do”

“No, you don't, I love your hands. I love every inch of you. Your amazing magic or not.”

“Darling, you are the most wonderful person in the world.” As strange dips capturing my lips his fingers start to weave in and out of my folds with his fingers. A moan escapes me and into his mouth, causing him to smirk. “Please allow me to give you pleasure before you give me mine. Goddess, I intend to worship all of you tonight. Kissing down my jaw, over the clavicle, across the shoulder and stopped kissing above the pump. “That's every part of you.” fingers enter deeper making a sweet scissoring motion before drawing back out.

A low husky mewl releases from me as they pull out completely. The doctor positioned himself in front letting his ridge member slap a couple of times before finding his placement inside me.The sticky sloppy draw of my pussy dragged up and down Stephens's cock. He looked upon me with a gleeful grin, eyes connecting in the darkness. Before a flash of madness passed through them his thrusts became ploughing movements making the bed squeak with every pump of hips. Making sure to bottom out every time. My body gladly takes every inch of him and more.

Growling sitting up, I hooked an arm around his neck and legs around his waist. The thrusts are deep and lounging as we grind against one another. Lost in the ecstasy of the sweaty lust filled the room. Sweat dripping down our bodies, I closed my eyes only to be met by his forehead against mine. “ Look at me Chrissy, I want you to look into my eyes as I take you over the edge.”Swallowing feeling the change in movement to one of eager pace, hitting the indie of me in that special place. His hands hooked into the hair at the back of my head. Opening my eyes to see my now husband looking so intensely at my face. “Fucking celestial.”

At those words my body broke down into its release, Stephan chasing his own in three more powerful blows. His seed becoming nestled in me, time stopped as if the stone in the eye knew we needed it.

The morning after.

Placing a hand on his chest pushing Strange back into the pillows. The White silk of the honeymoon suite is the complete difference from the sumptuous red of the sanctum four-poster bed. Tracking each mole and scar lazily before giving a soft kiss to the centre of his body.

As I draw back up. His hands grab at the ample and tender breast flesh hanging above him. Kneading the skin."I can feel it. Your heart is beating."

"Beats only for you, Stephen "

"I love you. I can't tell you enough." Moving his hand from my body clutching at my face. "I never want to be lonely again. I'm glad i found you in this universe, makes me almost feel sad for the others in theirs, that don't have you."

Bending over, the style of hair coming unravelled one side. Placing a kiss on his lips. Smooching away at my now husband. Kneed on top straddling him. "I want to tell you how much I love every day. Spend 10,000 nights with you and 10,000 more."

So we spend every night together from that moment on. A good year when by, with love and laughter. Until that one faithful day when, a spaceship crashed and Strange ran after tony.

*SNAP*

Perhaps it was because he was a Healer of bodies before he became a Healer of the universe, of multidimensional scuffles and wounds that left his universe exposed to threats this human man couldn’t quite imagine. Or perhaps it had been his fleeting attempts to resist her body when they had first met, when she had descended with the Bull of Heaven to aid him in defeating a demon that had been set loose from her realm. After the battle, when she had been in the courtyard, bathing as was her custom with her priestesses attending to her, he had walked in, freezing for a few heartbeats before he turned his back to her.

 His deep baritone had been gruff, the accent that she attributed to New York coloring his tone, “oh! Sorry! I didn’t realize—I’ll come back later, I beg your pardon,” he had said rather eloquently even though she could hear the rush of blood through his body, watched the way his pale skin colored.

“No need, Doctor Strange,” she had called, halting him as he had taken a step away, “you may stay and discuss whatever you wish while I bathe. However, if my nude body offends you, pray stay for a moment or two as I am nearly done with my cleanse,” she had decided to tease him then, her priestesses hiding their grins, “I would have thought, as a Healer, you would be at ease with my nudity, far more so than others of your species.”

The barb had struck the mark as she had intended it to, and he’d rolled his shoulders before turning to face her with a decidedly defiant expression, meeting her gaze steadily. She had smiled at his audacity, found more respect for him than any other man in that moment because he had let his eyes wander down her body without bothering to hide his fascination with her form. His incredibly, intensely blue eyes had traced her curves with such precision, with such attention that it had been as palpable as his touch.

For the first time in a long time, Ishtar desired a man’s body beyond the simple biological need. That was the wrong word, she thought, perhaps not necessarily biology but her purpose in having been created, her role in the pantheon to draw out love making and sensuality, and sex. She had wanted Doctor Strange in that moment for more than the simple purpose of her function as a goddess.

They had spent hours together after that, memorizing each other’s bodies, committing every inch to immortal memory, every sigh, every groan, every gasp of pleasure forever etched into their skin. She had left him as he slept, smiling down at him, shocked at her actions when she had pressed a kiss to his sleeping lips before returning to her own realm, feeling complete.

She came to a stop in front of him now as he stood patiently, “may I see your hands, Doctor?” she asked softly, watching his lean face with great interest, those impossible eyes that belonged to other worlds, not the face of a mere mortal.

She saw his hesitation, the urge to resist as a muscle ticked in his jaw, but he knew better than to resist a request from her. He presented them to her, holding them palm down, and she watched the way they trembled, vibrating the air around them though she was sure he was not aware. He had the most beautiful hands she had ever seen, long and elegant fingers, blunt nails kept meticulously clean, “may I touch them?” she asked quietly, her fingers feathering over the air above them, tracing the intricate web of scars.

“Why?” he asked, his voice rough, neon blue eyes suspicious in the sunlight that filtered into the bare room.

Ishtar smiled, “I wonder if you know or suspect the fact of those before you that have questioned me,” she glanced up at him.

“Uh,” he cleared his throat, “I have a feeling they weren’t rewarded.”

She shook her head with a laugh, “your instincts, as always, are correct, Doctor,” she smiled, “but if you swear to keep my counsel, then I shall allow you the privilege of questioning me.”

“Why?” he asked, and when she looked up from his hands again, she saw the teasing smile that lifted the corner of his mouth.

Chuckling, Ishtar shook her head slightly, “take care you that you do not ask too many,” she told him, “otherwise, I shall have to rescind my extension to you. Now, to answer the initial inquiry Doctor Strange, I have of late been thinking of these hands of yours.”

“What about them—” he stopped himself before he completed the question, “why would you—” he stopped himself again, “my hands are damaged and useless,” he said weakly.

She laughed heartily, ”I shall reveal to you the true purpose of my recent obsession with your hands by and by, but I must first reveal the purpose of my business, which happens to be related to your inquiry,” she gripped his forearms, gently pushing his hands down to rest at his sides, “I must tell you, with some consternation on my part, well, honoring you with my immortal consternation I should say for we gods are not often made to feel sheepish or foolish. However, I am here not on a business or important matter, but one purely driven by a need.”

She watched him swallow the question that floated through the clear depths of his eyes. Instead of verbalizing it, he quirked a brow, inclining his head, standing still beneath her scrutiny.

“It seems,” she murmured, “that I have a developed of late a need only you can fulfill.”

“I am…flattered, oh goddess,” he bowed deeply, placing his right hand over his chest, casting his eyes down in the tradition of her people, “as ever, I am ready to assist you in any way I can. The sanctums under my protection as well as the sorcerers under my care are ready to aid you in whatever way you need, as long as it does not harm Earth or its occupants.”

Ishtar tried to hide her smile, “so noble, much more so than many of your predecessors,” she told him, “but my purpose is nowhere near as noble as your gesture Doctor Strange,” she laughed, “in fact, in earthly terms, it is not at all noble or even allowed to be mentioned in polite society with such aplomb,” she began to walk around him again, taking stock of his body as she did so, “my need is carnal,” the sentence was a sigh, “my need is filled with lust, with licentious thoughts and wants that only you can fulfill.”

She was standing behind him, unable to see his facial reaction, her eyes tracing the breadth of his shoulders beneath the blue tunic he wore, the way his broad shoulders tapered down to his lean waist, those long legs and the delicious curve of his behind. “Why—” she saw his head jerk, “you must have…more …better…options.”

Moving slowly around the room, she stood before him again, “I have attempted to address this need, this purpose of my creation, by visiting my harems and temples, but none of those I keep there for this purpose have allowed me to address this urge. My dreams, Stephen, my fantasies, whether waking or in deepest slumber, are haunted by the beauty of your hands.”

He lifted his hands, frowning frankly at her, “my hands?”

“Yes,” she stopped closer to him, her body separated from his by a breath, a whisper, a heartbeat that would have them touch, “your hands,” she smiled, “you are much surprised I see.”

“Yeah, I mean when a goddess of sex comes to you saying she wants you to be her horizontal mambo partner, you don’t really think she’s been thinking about your messed up hands,” his tone was sardonic, as he glanced up from his hands and directly into her eyes.

The gesture was startling, and she was torn between being deeply offended that he had forgotten himself, and feeling an ecstasy she couldn’t quite name as she looked into his eyes. She remembered having seen that blue only in her celestial palace, high up in the heavens above her pantheon, the shade never-before seen on earth until she had looked into his eyes. “You lack a female’s imagination when it comes to her body, her pleasure, Stephen,” she murmured, “you cannot possibly understand or fathom the sensation of these scars you detest, when they are inside me,” she breathed, “rubbing against soft, swollen, tender flesh. These beautiful scars,” she sighed.

“Well then,” he cleared his throat, “when you put it like that…”

“May I take this as acquiescence to my request, then? The same noble intention with which you offered yourself and your sanctum? Your willingness to provide my flesh with the release only you seem to be cable of giving?” she tilted her head, catching her lower lip with her teeth as she stepped into him.

“I don’t think I have a choice anymore,” he said as if suddenly realizing the truth of his statement, blinking at her, “but do I have your permission to treat you like a woman, well, a female and not be on parade before a goddess.”

She laughed, “you may. I only ask that we retreat to my rooms, where privacy is guaranteed, and our pleasure shall be ours to taste, to feel, to voice.”

As ever, Teyla showed him a regard that left him feeling both exalted and humbled. “And I wonder what I could possibly teach that could be of any value to a sorcerer of such surpassing skill.”

“Oh, Teyla,” Stephen smiled softly in the face of her honest humility and reticence, “Don’t underestimate yourself, honey. You’ve taught me countless things since we met. Things I might never have had the eyes to see, if not for your kindness and patience and belief in me.”

Made momentarily shy by his claim, she lowered her lashes, considering his entreaty before she met his eyes again. “How can I decline such an eloquent request? Your words are as the taste of some sweet honey on my tongue. Pleasing yes, yet leaving me with the need for more.”

“That’s exactly how you make me feel,” he husked, “Filled up with your sweetness, but always, always wanting more."

Thus, having secured Teyla’s acquiescence, Stephen found that she wasted no time in proceeding. The incantation was indeed rudimentary, and he easily tapped into the energy needed to perform the magic.

But despite his encyclopedic knowledge of popular music and his former mastery of the piano, it was properly humming the run of notes that proved a challenge. She did her best not to laugh at his first attempts, which yielded only plantlike materials and nothing remotely like flower petals. "Hum it from here," she instructed him, laying her palm over his heart, "The exact tone of the notes is not as vital as the...hmmm...as the joy that you allow to fill your chest and then let flow outward."

"Joy," he scoffed lightly.

Teyla remained patient in the face of his skepticism. “Yes, my love---have you never sung out loud with no care as to who might be listening, simply for the joy of it?”

“Well, yeah,” he nodded, “Which is why it’s a good thing the Sanctum is soundproofed.”

She chuckled softly. “Well, it is the same with harmonic resonance. We take joy not only in the music but in the creation of something of beauty, even if it may only be fleeting...”

“And when you use it as a Healer?”

“We take joy in the gift of being able to heal, of course,” she replied, looking puzzled that he needed to ask, “Just as you must have as a surgeon.”

Leave it to Teyla to remind me of those happy memories, he realized, when I still look back too often with regret instead of gratitude.

After that it was easy---and the joy that Stephen let fill his chest was that which she had brought to his life with the gift of her unconditional love. Stephen played with the charm a while, gaining quick proficiency, while Teyla applauded his success, giggling and twirling beneath his colorful, prolific shower of petals. Though soon he found himself dissatisfied with how quickly they popped out of existence---enough so that he set his mind upon a small improvement.

"What’s this,” she exclaimed as the petals that landed on her hair and brushed her skin did not dissolve on contact, as the original magic worked. “How are you doing this?”

“Just a little modification, honey,” he grinned as petals covered the ground all around her feet like a soft, colorful carpet. “Dunno how long they will last, but they’re awfully pretty, don’t you think?” Pretty enough for my lady fair, he sent her way, picturing the sight of her hair spread out upon the grass, like a flower strewn halo about her head. Pretty enough to tempt her to lay upon them with me?

Oh, Stephen,” she answered breathlessly, eyes bright with happiness as the fragrant petals continued to cascade from the thin air all around her, even as he caught her in his arms. You need no pretty magic to tempt me, she whispered in his mind, but to simply lay me down. Teyla slid her arms around his back, her cheek pressed to his as she breathed against his ear, “Lay me down, Beloved, and work the magic inside of me, which only you can do.”

This is just a small part of Stephen & Teyla’s story. Their lives intersect in such unexpected ways that this makes Stephen believe they are fated for one another. Before he realizes his heart is falling, Teyla, as a talented Healer among her people, even provides him with a period of relief from the daily pain in his hands--by taking it on, in part, as her own.