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avengershumanresources · 3 years

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blood 7 - Strange/Stark!Reader

Relationship: Dr. Strange/Princess!Stark!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Adult Themes, eventual smut, adult language, implied sexual violence, general violence

Synopsis: Reader is the daughter of the legendary King Anthony Stark, Uniter of Lands, The Iron Defender, and leader of the realm. When the king disappears during battle, hope is lost and he is presumed dead.

When the late king’s uncle, Obadiah, takes the throne until your brother Peter is of age, he quickly arranges a marriage for you with a wicked king in a neighboring kingdom.

With the realms politics in question, and rumors of an upcoming siege to overthrow Peter’s rule before it starts, you quickly learn who is loyal to the crown and who is not.

part 6 - part 8 (coming April 13th)

Masterlist

Chapter Playlist

CHAPTER WARNING: Yee-har, thar be smut afoot in this here chapter. 18+

7- a king

Anthony Stark hadn’t expected all of this to come of his death. He foresaw of some of it.

Of Obadiah’s imminent betrayal and Brock’s general ambition, but when Wanda had approached him with her vision all those years ago, he couldn’t have understood what it all meant.

Now, however, he realized the violence that was soon to arrive at his kingdom’s doorstep. It was an uneasy feeling; the responsibility bestowed upon him to put men’s lives at risk. To make widows and orphans because of inter family squabbles.

But Tony knew that Obadiah and Brock both presented far larger threats in the long term.

A king who is hungry for power will never stop to consider the least fortunate in his rule.

It was a mantra Tony had created for himself after his father had let entire villages fall to win back some petty golden toy during the War of the Giants. In the end, the lives lost had been worthless and the giants returned to their mountains with more spoils than they’d started.

It had made him sick.

That was the moment Tony decided to be a better man. A better king. He took pride in his unselfish rule and lack of war among those who shared the boundary with his kingdom. By a miracle he’d gotten Brock into line, but Obadiah had gotten a taste of power from his position in the Giant’s War and wanted more.

Rumors turned to plots, and all at once Tony knew his family and legacy was in danger. He had a troubled relationship with the Wakandans after one of his own barons killed their king in a quest for vengeance after the Giant’s War. Steve had volunteered as ambassador with the shadowy James Barnes (who’d long had a positive relationship with T’Challa) and they’d managed to broker a deal benefiting both nations.

And Asgard.

That was a whole other bag of complications.

Odin had long been distrustful of Tony’s first wife, the late Queen Alexandra due to her Vanir lineage. The Asgardians had fought for centuries trying to eradicate what they’d seen as a dangerous race of uncontrollable magic users.

Odin had been a step in the right direction, after replacing his late father, but the prejudices still remained and Tony’s marriage to one of the few remaining Vanir royals had soured what little relations they’d had.

Still, in the end, they’d protected you when he so desperately needed help the Asgardians could only provide. To that, he’d offered her hand to the princes, and Odin took the offer into consideration, only backing off when an agreement was made between the two boys and yourself that affections lay elsewhere.

Which brought him to his latest challenge. Your engagement to the monster king, Brock Rumlow.

The popular story was that he’d had his late wife killed when she hadn’t produced a male heir. Every female baby prior had been fed to the dogs and at last, when her fifth pregnancy had yielded yet another female, she fell mysteriously ill and died a few nights later. Some say a villager found the baby’s water logged corpse shortly after.

From a strategic perspective, it made sense. You hadn’t been called upon by any serious suitors, often running around the kingdom with a begrudging Stephen on your coattails, and you were still young enough to bare a child or two.

Brock needed a means of securing trust in the kingdom, and marrying one of its beloved daughters was the way to do it. Not to mention, Obadiah got his army, Peter would be overthrown when he attempted to take his birthright, and both men would share in the mutual benefits of being involved in one of the strongest economies in history.

It was a clear cut plan for control of the kingdom, and it would have been more than enough for Tony to take action.

Except for one small caveat.

You.

You’d been born of the same Vanir blood as your mother and even as a days old infant, you had shown the Master Sorceress at the time an insurmountable measure of power.

It was an old and finicky magic, the woman had warned before your mother’s body had even cooled in bed. You would need trining, but there was no one left to provide.

The Asgardians had been thorough in destroying the ancient texts and any remaining Vanir had long fallen into hiding, often using enchanted amulets and trinkets to conceal their seidr from those with wicked intentions.

Your mother had been a victim of such vicious greed. She’d been open with her abilities, sharing a close bond with Orin’s own wife and his young son, Loki. The pair had conspired to learn all the forbidden secrets of the Vanir, and she’d begun to accumulate quite the library of resources from old temples and Asgardian burial tombs.

Frigga helped her translate and in turn, the relationship with the royal families had warmed considerably until a few days before your birth.

Things had fallen apart so quickly. The Northern Kree empire had infiltrated the castle after hearing rumors of the queen’s power. Someone had once written that a single drop of Vanir blood was worth thousands in gold pieces. A bandit had gotten through the gates while she labored, he had ambushed her in the birthing chambers and despite putting up an admirable fight- died with a dagger stabbed through her heart.

The beast had tried to cut it free in front of the midwives.

The Master Sorceress had only stepped from the room a moment to freshen up her herbal remedies. By the time anyone had made it to her side, she had died, and you’d been cut free of her with that same knife.

“Your majesty?” Wanda inquired, approaching where he sat by the fire of the rebellion campsite.

“Yes?” He blinked up, returning to the present at hand. The men who were preparing for battle around him. The women sharpening weapons and sewing leather.

The people he had asked to rise up for the betterment of the kingdom. The people who were prepared to die by his side for a secure future.

“Master Strange is to meet at my cottage in the hour,” she explained.

“And what would you advise Master Sorceress?” he asked, an amused expression on his face. “Shall we let him in on our secret?”

“With less than seven days to the wedding, it might be wise,” she reasoned sardonically. “Natalia has her own mission in securing the support from within. Master Strange is working with Peter and Loki on securing the vulnerable.”

“Do you think he told him?” Tony looked down at the fire pensively.

“Who?”

“Loki,” he clarified. “He and Master Mordo were among the few who knew. They had to have mentioned something to him. He’s- well- I’m not entirely sure what he is to her now, but he’s certainly one of the closest lines of protection to her.”

“Assuming the rune hasn’t already faded, I would think he either told him or Stephen found out for himself, my liege,” Wanda sat down on the log next to time, her gaze following his into the flames. “Her power is what Amora desires. It needs to be concealed until the princess is in safe hands.”

“Then he knows,” Tony decided, nodding to himself. “Amora would have done something stupid if the seidr had broken through completely. Someone is keeping it under control.”

“I’ll find out,” Wanda promised. “Would you like to speak to him?”

Tony made a disgruntled noise at the thought of approaching the sorcerer. House Strange had long served under the Stark banner, proudly riding at the front of the line when called upon for battle. When they sent their oldest to train at Kamar-Taj, Tony had been surprised.

The boy had a knack for strategy and was sharp as a needle point. Tony could have seen the young man easily rise in leadership in the house, ruling his own militiamen and managing the family affairs.

But apparently he had no interest in it, and in an unorthodox fashion, the assets had been passed to their eldest daughter.

Granted, in the end, none of that mattered- as the entire family estate had been stricken by a particularly nasty plague. The sole survivor was Stephen, who’d been away at Kamar-Taj when he’d gotten the news.

He’d rushed home, and in the process gotten sick himself, but with the help of his fellow sorcerers, recovered with the only remnants of the illness remaining in his hands. He often told others it had been a riding accident. Only a select few knew the truth and devastation of his loss.

Tony had met with the young man on his sickbed, assuring him the assets would remain in the family. That the castle would maintain the property while he fulfilled his obligations to Kamar-Taj. After all, there was no greater calling than to a life of service and compassion. It was the least Tony could do.

Well, until you had scared off every Master to cross the castle threshold and he’d gotten desperate and asked the boy for a favor.

He should have known better. You were close in age. Equally as ambitious and cunning. For years you’d been sneaking through passages and around the villages at night, often with Natalia at your side.

Stephen just made it easier, and helped Tony rest a little easier knowing the man would give his life for you, if need be.

Tony wasn’t dumb. He’d seen it the first night the you had met.

The sneaking smiles, the conspiratorial whispers in the corners of the ballroom, and when Peter’s cat turned into a lion almost identical to the Stark sigil, Tony knew that one day he might allow that young man to break the oaths he’d made for a single exception.

“Your highness?” Wanda pried gently for a clearer answer.

“Yes, I’ll speak to him,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. About a great many things.

(—)

“I somehow don’t believe you just found out about this,” you stated, sitting cross legged on one of the strewn about cushions, a teapot floating delicately from the palm of your hand.

“I’ve learned a number of thing recently,” he replied dryly. “Like Mordo is alive, and Brock wants to kill Obadiah once you’re wed.”

You lost your focus and the cup shattered on the ground.

“He what?” you gaped at Stephen while he repaired the ceramic cup with a wave of his hand.

“It ties into the whole secret magic thing, but it really isn’t an ideal situation,” he explained, setting the cup aside and dropping to the cushion across from you.

“I guess it’s good I’ve pestered you for your books over the years,” you mused, flexing your fingers in the air in front of you.

“It isn’t the same,” he sighed, watching while you lifted a few other stray objects and paused them between the two of you. “Seidr is... there isn’t documentation. The books were destroyed. Kamar-Taj had a few tomes but the Vanir language is nearly impossible to translate at this point.”

“What about Loki? Or Frigga?” you asked, moving both your hands at once and dropping a feather into his lap with a grin.

“Believe it or not, I’ve been focused on other issues,” he muttered dryly. “We’re going to have to seal this before you leave.”

“But you said it’s what preventing Amora from taking over my head,” you reminded him pointedly, summoning a small flame from an incantation you’d studied the day before. Extinguishing it between your palms, you looked up at him for a better excuse.

“But it is also the reason Brock is forcing you into a marriage and so she can control you, and in turn, your power better than you can,” he explained tersely. “She can’t know you’ve gotten partial control over it. Let her underestimate you, but until you can learn to conceal the energy yourself, you can’t risk exposure.”

“So am I being sealed or not?” you asked impatiently, floating a candle from you to him. He took it with an amused half-smile, extinguishing the light with a quick puff of air. “Can you do a... half seal? Hide the energy, keep some of the good parts?”

“Gods, I don’t know,” he groaned, shaking his head while he seat the canclde aside. “This is entirely new territory that I was not trained for.”

“That must mean you’re a terrible Sorcerer Supreme. What fool put you in charge?” you teased, reaching forward and tapping the top of his nose playfully.

“It’s not my fault you’re a freakish anomaly that’s supposed to be extinct,” he mumbled, pulling a frown while you laughed. “Give me your wrist.”

“Fine, but when this over I demand you help me train properly,” you stated and though he continued grumbling under his breath about being too old for your games, he agreed. “And Loki helps too.”

“Not part of the deal,” Stephen scowled.

“Fine, I’ll marry him then,” you smirked back at him. “You still haven’t asked, so I guess when my wedding tragically falls through, I’ll have to find respite with him.”

He pulled you forward, a glint in his eyes that sent a shiver through your entire body.

“I’m not going to chase after a betrothed woman, it’s bad taste,” he hummed, fingers crawling up your wrist and intertwining with your fingers. “I have a reputation to uphold, even if you feel comfortable hiding away with strange men in dark places.”

“Is that supposed to be a joke?” you whispered, sitting up on your knees and tilting your head.

“Do you not think I’m funny?” he murmured, reaching with his free head and tilting back your chin. A smile played on the corners of your mouth, both of you sizing the other up and daring the other to make the first move.

“I can think of many things you are,” you lifted his hand and pressed a tender kiss to his palm. “But funny?”

“You laugh at all of my clever wit, don’t try to deceive me princess, I know the truth,” Stephen sharply pulled your hand forward, forcing you to fall into his chest. He held your lower back, gazing down at you adoringly. “You’re trying to hide it, but I see it in your eyes.”

“Do you know what I see in your eyes?” your voice cracked ever so slightly, your hand cradling his cheek, your thumb lightly tracing the sharp features.

“What do you see?”

“Strength,” you murmured, transfixed by his opalescent gaze. All at once, it was like you were seeing him for the first time. You could feel the energy radiating off of him, seeing the waves of magic as they ripples through his body. “Devotion to... Stephen you’re beautiful.”

“Or so the stars whisper to the earth below,” his voice was soft, gentle, while his hand guided itself up your arm to your cheek. “But, what the stars do not see is their own radiance, their own ethereal light shimmering across the velvet heavens above. The stars do not know how the Earth worships the very flicker of their existence, tells stories of their magnificence and beauty. The do not know how the Earth finds its meaning in what little time it steals away to them in the night.”

It all happened very quickly after that.

You peeled at his robes, he worked at your corset, a frenzy of hands and mouths tasting one another in a way neither had ever imagined.

Discarding the corset, he worked his hands up your blouse, fingers lightly teasing the tip of your nipple until you let out a satisfied moan. Robes loose, you pushed him back against a nearby pile of cushions, climbing between his legs and peppering hungry kisses up and down his neck until he growled, clawing at your hips.

“If you’re-,” he tired protesting while you pulled away more clothing, pressing his leg between yours and letting out a whimper of pleasure when he shifted in just the right way.

That seemed to set something off in him.

He was over you, flipping you to the ground and pulling what little clothing remained between you, your naked bodies now flush. Stephen moved down to your breast, drawing a nipple between his teeth and watching you squirm under him at the incredible sensation.

“Please,” you mewed, an absolute wreck under him.

He took his time, moving to the other nipple and repeating his actions until you were begging for any kind of release.

“Needy are we?” he murmured in your ear, his voice low and so controlled, you couldn’t understand how he could stand it. Goosebumps erupted over your body, and he just smirked, continuing his exploration.

Teasing a finger at your entrance, he looked to you for final approval before easing the digit into you.

“Gods,” he hissed, moving the finger at an agonizingly slow speed. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes upon.”

He caught you in a kiss, speeding up his hand below, his thumb searching for the sensitive nub of nerves. When he grazed over the tender area, you nearly shot out of yourself, the sensation feeling downright sinful.

Pulling his finger out, you let out another whimper, this one of protest at the emptiness inside of you.

“Are you certain-?” he asked again, eyes scanning your face for any sign of hesitation or doubt.

“I’ve never been more certain of anything,” you replied honestly. It wasn’t an exaggeration. You’d been a make up to this point, untouched and with no interest in engaging in such outrageous behavior.

Yet with him, you wished you could give more. Your body. Your soul. Your love. What did it matter anymore? He was yours, sitting before you and showing you through his loving car assess and sensations you’d never known before this moment.

He eased himself in, giving you time to adjust to his length, the member much larger than his single finger. But Gods, did he feel incredible.

You’d never thought so much emotion and pleasure could occur in a single moment. For this tiny hidden corner of the universe, you felt like your souls had collided and merged.

It was a far cry from how Nat had told you it was.

This was- you anticipated each of his movements, raising your hips to meet his as he crashed inside of you. Your brain couldn’t form coherent thoughts and when he started to coax something feral from within your core, you let him lead you through it.

Pumping in time with strokes to your clit, you clenched your walls around him, pulling a hissed curse from the sorcerer.

A few more pumps and a final circle around the sensitive area and you felt your orgasm crash over you.

At first, you thought you’d done something wrong. Did you break something? How did this feel so incredible and overwhelming all at once?

While you rode out your bliss, you felt his hips tighten, finishing with a final grunt.

You both stated at one another, eyes wide, trying to catch your breath.

“Have you-,” you started but paused. “Like that before-?”

It was no secret Stephen wasn’t exactly a virgin. He had his vows but they were against attachment, not sex, and sometimes, as he put it, the spirit needed to be revitalized.

You’d called him a creep and moved on, but Gods did you understand now.

“I don’t know what happened,” he blinked, looking thoroughly bewildered. “That’s... I’ve never- my gods, you’re incredible.”

He pulled out, dropping to the ground next to you with a huff.

“I have a potion,” he muttered, pointing to the table above them. “Prevents pregnancy.”

“And here I thought you were devoted to me,” you poked him in the rib and he just laughed.

“I am,” he insisted. “However, I’m not devoted enough to end up in the gallows for deflowering a princess who is betrothed to a ruthless king. My apologies, my grace.”

“Hm, I’m sure I can find someone willing to make that sacrifice for me,” you hummed.

“And a fool he will be,” he leaned up on his elbow. “I still win the day. He would be hanged and I still get my princess.”

“Your princess?”

“Has it been any other way?” he asked, quirking a brow. “Truly, if I’m mistaken, tell me. I don’t want to sound too over ambitious.”

You considered it briefly. Had it?

No, you knew from the moment you spied those eyes at the ball welcoming him to the castle that he was your future. You just hadn’t realized what that meant at the time.

There was no world, no life, where you could live without him by your side.

The thought sobered you quickly, your upcoming nuptials springing to mind, the spell locking you in your private world, now lifted.

“Would you have asked my father?” you asked.

“In another life, we would have been married by now,” he answered earnestly. “I’m a fool for having hesitated and nearly missed my chance at an eternity by your side.”

“And Brock?” you asked, the name leaving a sour taste in your mouth. Stephen’s expression darkened at mention of the man.

“I’ll kill him before he touches you,” he vowed. “I will not yield your heart to such a monster, and I will stop this. I cannot risk you leaving my side. Not again, my love.”

You leaned forward and kissed him, soft, intimate, and gentle. Stephen wasn’t a fighter.

Certainly he could fight, but you knew him well enough to know that violence was a last option after all other options had been tried. And here he was preparing to declare a one man war on your betrothed.

Truly, the heavens were smiling upon you in this life.

(—)

Later that evening, when Stephen had returned you safely to your quarters, he met with Wanda at her cottage at the edge of the woods to discuss the next steps in the plan.

When she caught sight of him, her expression shifted from confused to elated to-

“What is it?” he asked, knowing she’d gotten a read of what he’d been up to previously.

“Do well to conceal your thoughts,” she warned, leading him inside.

“Conceal what-?” he asked after her, stopping in his tracks when he saw Anthony sitting at her table, sipping at a large horn of water.

Tony stood up, giving the man a once over, brows raised as he took him in.

“You couldn’t wait until the wedding night?” he grumbled, dropping back down in his chair with a long sigh.

(—)

8- a secret

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