Doctor Strange X Reader First Book

Scars Of The Past

A/N: Hello my dear readers!

This is a request by EmiLaa2001 where Strange is insecure about his scars and distanced himself from the reader.

Remember, scars do not define you, you will always be beautiful to the eyes of your loved ones. And I don't say that because it is nice to say, I mean it because I know the feeling. Scars are marks that you survived tough things or else.

Hope you enjoy.

Please leave a vote or a comment.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stephen sighed loudly, his cerulean eyes trailing up your sleepy forms as they landed on his scarred hands. His doubts crawled his heart, piercing the layer of faith and recovery he had worked for.

Marks of the past, carved in his skin, cruel reminder of the loss of his gift each time he removed his gloves to touch you. He knew you didn't care about his scars, that it was a part of him but it didn't mean he believed your words.

Lately, his doubts were devouring his soul, shame taking a toll on him and you realised he was taking his distance.

No more gentle touches, no more touch at all.

« Stephen, talk to me. Is there something wrong ? » you had asked one day in the library, taking his gloved hand in yours.

He blue eyes had drifted to your intertwined hand, his throat tightening as he gulped.

« I'm fine. Let's find the spell of invisibility, shall we ? » he dismissed, pushing his hand away from yours.

You had furrowed your eyebrows and let go, worry gradually covering your face as you knew deep down Stephen was hiding something.

As Stephen got up from the bed, heading straight to the bathroom, he looked at his reflection in the mirror.

Two blue tired pools with nuggets of doubts gleaming, he didn't recognise the figure looking at him. He was the ghost of himself.

The proud, powerful Stephen Strange was haunted by the insecurity of his hands, each gesture becoming a dragon to slay and he closed himself from the world, including you.

His blueish gaze fell on his hands, holding the counter tightly, his knuckles turning white as he noticed the familiar pattern of his scars. The deformed way his hands were the ghost of what they once were.

Reddish marks covering the light skin, bloody lines spreading along his fingers with light white marks around, a reminder of the proof of his accident, his doom.

He couldn't bear these scars anymore, terrible souvenir that once he had spotless and remarkable hands which were now the very thing he hated.

His hands clenched into fists, a low groan erupting from his chest as he punched the mirror. Immediately, the glass shattered into thousand pieces, failing to fall into the other side and a dark crimson shade coloured the remained pieces. The broken noise made you jump in the bed, noticing the cold absence of Stephen and you threw the covers aside and rushed to Stephen. You kicked the bathroom open, his name falling on your lips when you spotted his form curled up against the wall, visibly shaken.

« Stephen » you muttered, approaching slowly.

« Don't come near me, Y/N. You shouldn't see the monstrosity I become, » he stated darkly, a tone of despair tickling his voice.

You tilted your head to the side, taking the pieces of the mirror scattered all over the bathroom with streaks of blood intertwined and your heart ached at this sight. You bit your lip, your eyes trailing up to the sorcerer. You didn't know this insecurity had been devouring him so much, you thought he was handling it.

You were wrong.

Listening to your heart, you closed the remaining distance and cupped Stephen's face in your hands and kissed him before he had the chance to push you away.

You kissed away the pain, the despair tasting like salty tears. You kissed away the fear, the burden of his loss hands and reminded him with a single long kiss that his hands didn't define who he was. You broke the kiss, panting while your heart pounding heavily in your chest, conveying all your love in your eyes.

« I love you, Stephen. Scarred hands or not, you are beautiful either way. »

Breathless, he looked at you, mouth agape, his swollen lips inviting you for another kiss. His hands cupped the side of your head, pushing you closer until he winced when he moved the other. Immediately, you stepped away and gently grabbed his bloody hand. Closing your eyes, you muttered a healing spell, and the wounded skin returned to its previous natural state.

You took his hands in yours, caressing his scars with your thumb. You traced his scars one by one, explaining that each one of them, were not proofs of loss but survival.

His hands saved from death as they had done many times for thousand lives.

You kissed his hands, your lips trailing on the red skin to this knuckles and then his fingertips where you left a small kiss. He looked at you with so many emotions, you thought for one second, you had done something wrong but he simply asked, dumbfounded by your perception :

« My hands saved me? »

You intertwined your hand with his, nodding your head.

« Yes. I believe that without them, you would have died in that car crash and yet you didn't. They sacrificed themselves for you. Yes, you lost your ability of perfect balance but you survived a traumatic accident, Stephen. And from now on, I'll be with you till the end. I promise. Each time, you feel down, come to me. I'll show you how important you are. »

He blinked, his storming blue eyes sparkling with a new flame and slowly, his face turned from shame and distraught to happy.

« Is it your way of proposing to me or inviting me into your bed? » he joked, a chuckle leaving his lips and you relaxed.

His mood had changed, life and hope regaining light in his eyes and you pecked his lips and got up.

« You mean 'our' bed. To answer your question, maybe both, who knows ? » you mysteriously said, a smirk on your lips before leaving the bathroom under the bewildered eyes of Strange.

Thirty seconds later and he was back in the room, cuddling you lovingly in the bed, admiring his fingers with yours in the dim light of the sunset.

« You're right, there is something missing, » he stated, turning your fingers in his, intertwined lovingly.

You hummed in his arms, your back pressed in his chest.

« What would that be, doctor? »

He nibbled your neck and breathed out :

« A ring. »

A/N: And I let you answer to this cliffhanger yourself. So good? Not good?