Spy Games Ch. 23

Reaching forward, I wrap my hand in Hope Van Dyne's loose locks and collect them into a makeshift ponytail. Then, I yank back, causing an animalistic, almost bestial moan to escape the naked, sweaty woman's lips as I force her spine to arch nearly to the point of snapping, certainly beyond what any normal human would be able to handle.

But then, Hope Van Dyne isn't human anymore, something made all the obvious by the way she's so easily taking my super speedy thrusting as I fuck her from behind, doggystyle. Plowing the (former) chairwoman of Pym Technologies board of directors still hasn't gotten old, all these months later. But then to be fair, we've been having quite a lot of fun exploring all of her new abilities… and ignoring the ruin that her life has become as a result of her actions.

"D-Don't stop! Don't you fucking stop, you b-bastard! I want it! Fuck, deeper! DEEPER!"

Hope's raised voice draws a chuckle from me. She doesn't seem to much care if anyone hears us, but to be fair we are in the Royal Penthouse Suite at the Hotel President Wilson, located in Geneva, Switzerland. The most expensive hotel suite in the world, a twelve-bedroom gorgeous affair where heads of state from all over had paid to stay… it was exactly my kind of place.

Hope's too, even if she wasn't willing to admit it. Chuckling as I lean over her to grab the remote with my free hand, I turn on the master bedroom's main television, an absolute beast of a thing that takes up most of the far wall. Hope takes umbrage with this fact, even though my pace, my speed, and the strength of my trusts hasn't lessened even a little bit as I shift through news channels.

"Are you fucking ignoring me? F-Fuck, just get off me then!"

She bucks backwards with her hips, putting enough strength into the move to dislodge any human, and maybe even an Asgardian, frankly. But I've got my grip on her hair secured, and the Power Stone backing me up besides. I match her buck with a thrust, and a low keening noise exits her throat as her eyes flutter up into her skull involuntarily, a reluctant orgasm wracking her body and causing plenty of spasms.

Snickering, I lean forward and nuzzle into her hair, causing her to try and fail to escape my grasp and move away. I don't let up though, reminding her which one of us is stronger, establishing dominance once again as I keep her held in place and let my tongue sneak out to lick at her earlobe.

"U-Ugh… you're fucking worse than Darren ever was, you know that you jerk?"

Smirking, I finally reply.

"I suppose that's why you're so attracted to me. I'm Darren Two Point O, is that it?"

The little baby hybrid I've made shrieks and tries again to dislodge me, even as I continue to fuck her. Eventually though, she gives up on her attempts to escape my grasp and returns to enjoying the feel of my cock pistoning in and out of her clenching, squeezing cunt. As she shudders her way through another orgasm, I hum and blow hot air across her ear.

"You want me to go harder, babe? Because I can go harder~"

For a moment, she stills, desire warring with her learned loathing for me. But eventually…

"D-Do it… just… fucking do it…"

Grinning, I wind her hair around my hand, tightening my hold on the makeshift ponytail. Then, with but a thought, I activate the strands of my power nestled within dear little Hope Van Dyne's blood. She is, after all, my most complete hybrid to date. All the rest are either your bog standard werewolf-vampires or are blessed by just the Aether. Well, except for Drax I suppose. The blood I'd given him had been shed after I had assimilated the Power Stone. Likewise, with what was in the containers I gave to the rest of the Guardians of the Galaxy.

However, Hope Van Dyne was my first turning since I'd picked up the Mind Stone as well. Reality, Power, and Mine all lived within her, my newest hybrid. As such, as I activate the power held within her, I watch in the reflection of the massive television on the far wall as Hope's already golden hybrid eyes begin to glow with yellow power. I watch as red glowing veins appear around them in the same shade as the Aether, and I watch as patches of purple shine out of her sweaty, naked body as an expression of the Power Stone's might.

Of course, with all of that running through her, what's the first thing Hope tries to do? Buck me off again. Not to escape, I suspect, but in the hopes of turning the tables and pushing me down so she can have her wicked way with ME rather than the way things currently are. Alas, unfortunately for poor Hope, I am not, nor will I ever be a bottom. Four thousand years and I was quite happy with my current status. On top.

She bucks, and I thrust once again, and in the end the Immovable Object proves movable before the Unstoppable Force. Hope Van Dyne positively HOWLS, and I truly begin to fuck her, going much harder than before. The bed beneath us, despite being made of some truly spectacular materials on top of being ornate and grandiose, buckles, unable to keep up. The mattress, which is undeniably one of the most comfortable mattresses I've ever had the pleasure of sleeping on, shreds as my hips blur forward.

The reason I'd activated the fragments of Infinity inside of Hope wasn't to give her a fighting chance to escape… it was so she'd actually survive me going all out. Grinning wickedly, I truly begin to lay into her, and to my delight, Hope responds positively, even though it must hurt. Because at the end of the day, her desire to be fucked by me and her loathing for me… neither of those things were a match for her own self-loathing.

The poor girl had been hiding out with me for over half a year now. She wasn't wanted for Darren Cross' death, interestingly enough, but her unexplained leave of absence had caused her to lose her position on the board of her family's company. Meanwhile, with Cross dead, the board has welcomed daddy dearest back with open, desperate arms. Not that Hank Pym has looked all that happy in any of the news reports since we saw him last. In fact, man looks like he's aged decades, and those permanent darkened circles under his eyes can't be good.

Probably why Hope got extra annoyed when I started looking at the news while fucking her. She didn't want to chance upon seeing her father's face as he takes part in another interview while my cock is buried deep inside of her hungry, gushing wet twat. Luckily for her, I was now fucking her hard and fast enough that my newest pet hybrid wasn't in any position to be looking at anything. Her eyes are fully rolled back in her head now as I use her hair like reins, pulling back in time with my thrusts. Her tongue is sticking straight out of her mouth, and she's orgasming explosively around my pistoning prick for the umpteenth time.

This is what 'harder' means when you're a four thousand year old werewolf-vampire hybrid with three Infinity Stones empowering you. Makes for a new kind of sex, that's for sure, and I grin viciously as I unleash my load inside of Hope without hesitation, cumming in her womb and wondering if this time will be the time I finally breed her.

It's not like I haven't been trying over the last eight or nine months, but fuck if Natasha wasn't some kind of outlier or something. I'd had PLENTY of kids with relative ease back on my original world, but then again, all of those women had started out natural born wolves and only become hybrids later. They hadn't gone directly from human to hybrid.

Come to think of it, Natasha hadn't either. I'd saved her life by feeding her my blood, and she'd had that for a little while before making the full transition. Was that why? Meh, either way, it'd certainly been fun TRYING to get Hope pregnant all of this time, if nothing else.

Deactivating the fragments of Infinity within the brunette, I smirk as she slumps forward face down on the bed, positively collapsing and passing out all at once. Her hair slips free of my loosened grasp and my cock slips out of her creampied cunt as I kneel there over her, rolling my shoulders and my neck, and enjoying the feeling of towering over a strong, independent woman that's splayed out face down before me, having just been fucked into a pleasure coma by yours truly.

"Renowned neurosurgeon Doctor Stephen Strange of Metro-General Hospital was pulled out of the river just yesterday morning. It appears that he lost control of his car, falling off the road. His condition at this time is said to be critical."

Blinking as the name catches my attention, I look up from Hope's passed out form to the news station I'm currently watching. Slowly, I climb off the bed, walking across the room to get a little closer as I watch the story. The picture of a man who certainly looks very distinguished and altogether pompous flashes across the screen. That ego in his face, from his eyes to his smile, to even his cheekbone… this is a man who's on top of the world.

Or was. Dr. Strange, it seemed, had had a great fall. But… I knew that name, didn't I? Doctor Strange… that was… he was definitely a comic book character. He was the Sorcerer Supreme, in fact. My eyes widen at that, as I remember something, something from my past life, from a long, long time ago. Doctor Strange was definitely going to be a movie in the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

In fact, I was beginning to recognize the handsome smug face that they kept showing for the good doctor more and more. Benedict Cumberbatch, that was what I was remembering. The actor had been in talks to play the role of Stephen Strange back before I'd… well, ended up in the Mikaelson Family. I'd never gotten a chance to see the movie, hell I'd never even gotten a chance to see a trailer.

But if Stephen Strange existed in this universe, then very clearly he was meant to be the Sorcerer Supreme. Was this accident some sort of prelude to that? Oh, this was somewhat exciting. In fact, I sort of wanted to get involved. No, more than want… I NEEDED to get involved. Blinking at that thought, I furrow my brow and look down to see a red light pulsing in the middle of my chest.

"Oi, are you using the Mind Stone to fuck with me?"

The glowing red light of the Reality Stone dims for a moment but doesn't stop pulsing. And the need to go and see Stephen Strange for whatever reason and meddle in his affairs doesn't go away either. I can't help myself… I grin a little as I snort in amusement, poking at that glowing red light and my own chest in the process.

"You're a manipulative little shit, aren't you? But you've yet to steer me wrong. I'm still a little mad about that impromptu trip into space though. That Kemiya Armor held sentimental value to me, you know?"

In response, the Reality Stone pours out of my skin and a perfect replica of said Kemiya Armor, down to the millennia-old enchants each piece had layered onto it, appears over my body. By itself, the Reality Stone wouldn't be capable of such a feat, but given it's close connection with me, as well as the power that the Power Stone granted, it could do almost anything that it fucking wanted, in the end.

Sighing, I run my hands over the gold and the oh so comfortable fabric, before ultimately shaking my head.

"It's really not the same, you know. But… I appreciate the thought."

The Aether stops glowing and I turn to regard Hope Van Dyne, still passed out face down in the remnants of one of the most expensive, most comfortable beds in the world. As a point of order, this entire place had seen better days. But hey, I'd paid for the best fucking experience there was to be had, and the hotel had let me do what I wanted.

Still, it seemed it was time to move on. My vacation was coming at an end. If the Aether itself wanted me involved enough to draw my attention to Stephen Strange's accident, then how could I say no? After all, there might be another Infinity Stone at the end of the rainbow, perhaps.

Grinning, I reach down and brush a hand almost gently through Hope Van Dyne's sweaty locks. She was a good one, and quite fun at that. The fact that she'd actually managed to break the sire bond pretty early on by sheer virtue of being a hardass who didn't take shit from no one had impressed me immensely. Of course, even without the sire bond, she'd been rather dependent on me. Her own father had rejected her, after all, and she was no longer human.

Frankly, for the good of her mental health, it should probably have been her who eventually left me, breaking things off and figuring out her way in the world separate from me. But alas, she'd stuck around, and I'd let her… and we'd had glorious, mind-blowing monster sex all across the seven continents over the last three quarters of a year, before ultimately ending up here. It was time to move on.

Hm, should I wake her? Leave a note? It'd be such a dick move to just vanish without a trace. Considering that for a moment and considering our relationship over the last eight to nine months, I grin wickedly… and vanish from the hotel suite without another word.

-x-X-x-

"Well now, don't you look fucking awful."

Doctor Stephen Strange has had some days now to get used to waking up in absolute, soul-rending pain. The physical pain, he's already set aside, his mind a fortress and analytical as ever in the face of that particular agony. However, the emotional pain, the mental anguish at knowing he'd never be able to work with his hands again… that remained a constant. It was unmanageable, the battering ram incessantly knocking down the walls of his fortress.

Slowly, the bedridden (former) neurosurgeon opens his eyes to find the source of that callous and almost pitiless voice. It sounds familiar, and for good reason too as it turns out. There, standing beside Stephen's bed, is an awfully familiar figure indeed… as in, one of the most famous men in the entire world at this point.

"You're… Valiant."

Something akin to a grimace passes over the other man's face at that. This right here was a hero, a man who'd saved the world not just once, but multiple times. His face alone was impossible to mistake, but also he was wearing his signature armor, the gold inlaid alien garments that he'd been recorded saving both New York and Greenwich in.

"I suppose I am, yes. And you're Doctor Stephen Strange. I heard about your accident on the news. Tough break, that."

Somehow, Stephen gets the impression that Valiant, or Vali Masters as everyone knew his civilian identity to be, didn't really care. He didn't seem to have an ounce of pity in his voice as he looked down at Stephen. It was… actually kind of nice. Everyone else was so damn sorry for him. But Valiant clearly wasn't.

"Why… are you here?"

The world-saving superhero ponders that question for a few moments before answering with a question of his own.

"Tell me… have you ever heard of magic?"

Stephen's face starts to scrunch up in confusion and derision, only for that to exasperate his stitches and cause him no small amount of pain. So, he settles on something blanker as he shakes his head minutely.

"No."

"Never heard of someone called the Sorcerer Supreme?"

"… No."

"Ever heard of… eh, I don't really know much more than that about your whole thing. Hm, I guess if you haven't heard of the Sorcerer Supreme, then you've definitely not become it yet. And you're not lying to me… I would be able to tell."

Stephen just blinks, completely bewildered and feeling more than a little lost. Was… was the world's most powerful protector insane? No, that didn't quite track. The things Valiant could do, the things that people had seen him do… well, who was Stephen Strange to say it wasn't magic? Seeing was believing after all, and he'd seen a lot of Valiant's exploits over the years.

Far more likely than the other man being insane, was the simple fact that he knew more than Stephen. Both about this current topic, and about just about everything else there was to know. Which… didn't feel particularly good, on top of everything else happening right now. Stephen was used to being the smartest person in any room. Even his accident hadn't changed that. Until now, it felt like.

"What… do you want from me?"

Blinking down at him, the otherworldly man cocks his head to the side.

"From you? Nothing I suppose."

And then, oddly enough, Valiant looks down at his own chest, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh? Well alright then. Tell you what, Doctor Strange. How would you like to be healed?"

Stephen's breath catches at the sudden offer, processing the other man's words with his usual mental acuity and recognizing the truth in them.

"I would… like that very much."

And here, grinning wickedly and looming over Stephen suddenly like the devil offering a Faustian bargain, Valiant licks his lips and shows off slightly pointed teeth.

"And how would you like to be MORE than healed? How would you like to be a better you than you ever were before? Stronger and faster in every way that matters, from the physical to the mental. You were already world-renowned… how would you like to be the best neurosurgeon that the Earth has ever seen?"

Stephen stares up into Valiant's golden-black eyes and asks the most pertinent question through gritted teeth, even as the continued conversation exacerbates his injuries.

"What… would it cost me?"

"Nothing."

Is the immediate response.

"… But also, potentially everything."

Comes a moment later. And Stephen… Stephen looks from Valiant's wicked grin to his own destroyed hands, he looks down at his wrecked body, at the fact that he'll never be able to work again, and he imagines not only getting to work with his hands again, but being better at it than he ever was before. How can he possibly say no?

"Do it."

Vali Masters hums for a moment, and then offers Stephen his wrist, exposing it and bringing a finger nail up to it.

"You'll have to drink my blood. You'd have to anyways for the healing, but for the bonus bit, you'll need my blood in your system before I move onto the next step."

Stephen just nods, committed now, and watches as Valiant pierces his own flesh and lets droplets of his blood drip down into Stephen's open mouth. The taste is just as acrid and coppery as one would expect, but the bedridden doctor nevertheless swallows, grimacing past the taste and drinking what the superhero gives him. The cut closes up the moment he removes his nail from his wrist however, and he pulls back his arm, leaving Stephen to feel the slow effects on his body. He's already beginning to heal.

Eyes wide, the neurosurgeon looks to Valiant to thank him, only for the last thing he sees to be Vali master's hands reaching for his head, grabbing hold of his skull, and twisting. A sickening crack and Doctor Stephen Strange dies right there in the hospital bed.

…

And then he comes back to life. A gasp leaves his lungs as the neurosurgeon sits up, only to be offered a cup containing more red liquid. His eyes alight on it with a hunger he's never felt for anything but knowledge before, and a moment later Stephen is drinking, swallowing… and completing his transition into a hybrid, not that he's aware of that.

It's only after he's finished that he realizes he just grabbed that glass away from Vali with his hands. His fully functional, fully healed hands. Staring down at them, Stephen can't help but let out a happy cry, tears actually welling up in the newly turned hybrid's eyes.

"S-Stephen?"

It's the voice of Christine Palmer, his former girlfriend and until this moment, former colleague, that shakes him from his emotions. Head snapping up, Stephen realizes several things in a single second. One, Vali is still there, sat on his bed, watching with a self-satisfied smile. Two, it's no longer just them in the hospital room anymore… Christine is also there, standing a little ways away, her wrist bandaged up.

She looks worried, maybe even a little fearful… but also inordinately relieved as she stares at his healed hands with the same wonder and awe that he's currently feeling. It doesn't take a genius, which Stephen is of course, to realize that he's just drank her blood, however.

"Christine…"

The altogether human woman takes that as her cue to rush forward, wrapping Stephen in a hug that would have been crushing just a few minutes before. But he's never felt more powerful than he does now, and realizing that, he's very, VERY careful when he hugs her back, recognizing that he doesn't know his own strength anymore.

Vali, gives him a nod of approval over Christine's shoulder, which Stephen smiles at, only to get distracted by… by the pulse in his fellow doctor's neck. Her blood was so, so sweet, and Stephen's eyes grow a little fuzzy as he begins to open his- Christine is abruptly yanked back and suddenly a few feet away, letting out a startled squeak as she finds herself torn out of his loose grip.

Stephen growls, knowing full well that the veins around his eyes are popping, that… that he probably looks inhuman, right now.

"Now, now, none of that. If you want, I can make it, so you won't attack anyone by accident or instinct. Only knowingly."

Seeing Christine looking more fearful than before, Stephen looks to Vali and nods resolutely.

"Do it."

Something is done, and the hunger he feels when he looks at Christine is suddenly far more manageable. Slowly, the neurosurgeon gets out of bed, standing up, feeling… feeling like a million bucks. He doesn't just feel healed, he feels better than ever before, just like the other man promised him.

"Not to worry, Dr. Palmer. He's perfectly safe for you now. Unless you both decide otherwise."

Christine blinks in confusion at that, while Stephen frowns in suspicion.

"What? Why?"

His barked questions are met with an amused look from Vali, and something in Stephen's new instincts tells him that he's little more than a pup, yipping at a full grown wolf. Even still, the superhero answers Stephen's questions easily enough, though his answers through both doctors in the room for even more of a loop.

"You're now functionally immortal, Dr. Strange. You will never age, and you will not die unless someone removes your heart or your head. You can also pass this on to Christine, in the same way I passed it onto you, if you so choose. But of course, that's for you to decide. I've done my good deed for the day, and Dr. Palmer here has made sure everything is above board and you're alright. Welcome back to the land of the healthy, Dr. Strange. And… good luck."

And with that, the superhero walks right out of the hospital room, leaving Stephen and Christine alone. For a moment, they just stare at each other. Then, Stephen takes a step towards Christine, and she takes a step towards him, and they're in one another's arms once more. He… had no idea that he felt this strongly about her. Buried under all that ego, under all of that constant need to be the best… this was the woman he'd come closest to loving in all of his socially stunted life.

"Christine…"

"W-We'll figure this out Stephen… t-together."

A smile that definitely wouldn't have crossed Doctor Strange's face before all of this, spreads across his cheeks and he nods into her hair.

"Together…"

-x-X-x-

Grinning as I leave the two lovebirds behind, I saunter down the hall, getting a few weird looks, some gazes of awe, and even a couple of cries of 'thank you' for being who I was. It was fun, going around in full regalia again. And it'd been sort of fun, turning Doctor Stephen Strange as the Aether had pushed for me to. Even if he hadn't been the Sorcerer Supreme yet, he was still a pretty interesting individual.

Though it did leave me wondering just why I was pushed here in the first place if there was no secret order of magic to uncover hiding beneath Stephen Strange's hospital gown. Really, what was even the point?

Turning the corner, I get no warning from the Aether or anything as a bald woman wearing the robes of a monk slams a hand into my chest and punts me right out of my fucking body. Becoming a spirit feels super fucking weird, and for a moment I choke as I float through air like it's molasses, feeling distinctly… odd.

When I right myself, it's to find an astral form of that same bald monk woman standing before me with a fixed sort of smile on her thinned lips.

"Vali Masters… I've come to bargain."

Checking something really quick, I grin a grin that's full of teeth and not a single ounce of niceness as I rub at my ghostly chest.

"That's a strange way to ask for sex."

-x-X-x-

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