Work Text:
Sanctum Antiquorum Amare
This fic was written for Facebook's Marvelously Magical's Bingo square I4 Sanctum Sanctorum. This also fulfills Facebook's Wizarding Crossover Connection's Yahtzee Roll for the Dice Trope Choice of Bed Sharing.
Merlin, this was kinky! Professor Hermione Granger bit her lip and turned the delicate page, still in awe the book even held together. The spells surrounding it crackled with power, still potent after the five-hundred-odd-years they had been cast. Obviously, they were the only thing holding together this relic of sexual perversion from days long past.
The restricted section opened to a far more extensive selection than that given to even the most privileged students, namely, her when she’d been Head girl at Hogwarts during her final year.
It shocked her; it was so rarely frequented. This gem had been her latest discovery. Her desire to explore the history of wizarding kink fascinated and motivated her search, as this book nearly flew into her hands, exploding a rictus of dirt and angry doxies disturbed from their breeding nest she’d been forced to contain before secreting the forbidden tome from the library, which had been no small feat.
Irma Pince’s granddaughter was as strict and stuffy as her grandmother at the tender age of twenty, meticulously setting alarms on just about everything to prevent theft.
Hermione convinced the magical alarms that borrowing with intent to return without actually checking out was an exception to the rule.
Exhausted but elated, she’d settled into the Room of Requirement to read in peace, finally having a weekend to herself that did not involve children pounding on her Charms office at all hours of the day and night when all she wanted to do was read in peace and pet her ancient cat Crooks.
Lower lip between her teeth, she settled back in the large, reclining armchair the Room had conjured for her, allowing the book to hover over her as she dropped her fingers between her legs and slowly worked herself into a state of perpetual lust, an expert at prolonging her pleasure to the point of pain until an orgasm forced its way from her clenching cunt, causing her to nearly pass out from its intensity.
Being addicted to magical sex spells was not something she’d planned on pursuing as a vice in her adult life, but being a lonely, horny, single-minded career witch, she had to find release somewhere, didn’t she?
--
The Inner Sanctum held many secrets, even the good Doctor hadn’t yet unraveled. Typically, he only used this Room for the more profound meditations that required absolute silence and uninterrupted focus. Somehow, the power centered within the Sanctum gathered here, and in the very middle, the pinpoint sent his hair on end at times from the high magickal charge it collected.
He occasionally was filled with so much concentrated, mystic power it fed through his psyche and bled into his physical being, heightening each sense until even his cock was erect and aching, making it challenging to finish the meditation when his flesh demanded and begged to be released.
Only when he’d carefully concluded his intended focus did the Doctor carefully sequester himself in his private rooms and rub himself raw—an unfortunate, distasteful side effect of using the Room. Stephen Strange wasn’t complaining, per se, only that he’d much rather release with a partner than into the palm of his own hand.
Alas, anyone trustworthy – hell – even worthy of his time – was almost impossible to come by. His duties to the Sanctum and Mystical Arts were far more critical to that of the need for companionship on the occasion he craved a warm sheathe for his organ. A sacrifice he willingly made, believing, as many egotistical males did, that saving himself made him stronger in some way and that giving in to the wiles of a woman would weaken him.
The back of his mind cried, Bullshit, but Stephen was as talented at fooling himself with justifications that suited his purpose, as was the witch he’d yet to meet had of her own vices, who lived thousands of miles from his own abode.
Recognizing the latent, rising need that was culminating to dangerous levels of repression in both powerful individuals, the Sanctum, part of its lesser-known duties being looking after the well-being of its occupants if they, themselves, refused to care for their own needs, reached out into the cosmic reaches of Earth to seek and receive a response worthy of its current master.
The Room of Requirement vibrated with purpose, blurring around the witch with busy fingers and glazed eyes approaching orgasm, rendering her unaware for a brief moment as her environment shifted, her clothes melted away, and instead of a chair and a cozy fire, was transported to a vast bed, her fingers bringing her to the cusp of orgasm before she realized the temperature change and stopped her actions cold, letting out a brief scream at her nakedness and the equally surprised, nude man at the opposite end of the bed she now lay on.
--
Stephen opened his eyes, allowing the mild surprise to adjust as his consciousness was brought rapidly back to the present to the sound of a woman’s shrill scream.
Curious, he turned his head, noting his position on a large, comfortable bed, the cool chill of a spacious room, and the luxurious comfort of his naked form laying down simultaneously.
Although he did not really have a ‘type,’ he briefly imagined the nude female form mere feet from his own would be it or close to.
She really was stunning. Glancing down at his erection with interest, he noted how she fell off the edge on her side, clumsily rising and huffing, seeming to have forgotten her nudity, temporarily, in her haste to be off the apparently ice-cold floor.
“Fuck me, that’s bloody cold!” she hissed, dancing from foot to foot before leaping back onto the bed.
Noticing him staring at her, Hermione could only dive face-down onto the mattress. Sure, her bum was on display, but her other bits were covered effectively for the time being. Pushing her tamed mane of hair from her face, as some had fallen into her mouth, she sputtered out, “What the bloody hell have you done?”
Strange pointed at himself. “I? I’ve done nothing. It’s interesting how you automatically assume I’ve conjured this reality. Most curious.”
“Curious? I’m naked, in case you hadn’t noticed. You’re naked. We’re naked together on a bed. In a big, cold room, and I have no idea where we are,” she finished lamely.
As if on cue, the weighty tome she’d been masturbating to fell with a ‘thunk’ in between them, opened to a specific page. A corner of the parchment curled as if beckoning them to read from it.
Feeling game, as this was one of the more benign, unusual events to have befallen him while under meditation within the Sanctum, Dr. Strange took the advantage and leaned over, his eyes rushing back and forth over the page.
“Ah,” was all he said, nodding, then licking his finger to turn the page.
Horrified he’d treat a relic in such a disgusting manner, Hermione huffed and decided she didn’t care if he saw her naked. It wasn’t like she was going to fuck the man. The audacity! How dare he mar the ancient pages with his saliva! Didn’t he know that weakened the protections on the book?
Yanking it from him unceremoniously, Stephen frowned, reaching out even as she snatched it further away, hugging the ridiculously large volume to her body even as she turned away from him fully and muttered the passages to herself.
“Wonderful. We’re stuck here.”
“Care to share with the class? I hadn’t got to that part.”
Rudely, she huffed and shoved it back at him, nearly smacking him in the face. Frowning at her, he resumed reading the last few paragraphs and felt his erection flag when realization set in.
“So it seems,” he murmured to himself, now carefully closing the book and rolling back to ‘his’ side of the bed.
He stared at the ceiling for long minutes then closed his eyes, attempting to reach the state of nirvana he’d attained moments ago, to be rudely interrupted again by the harridan that had obviously played a dab hand in bringing them together into this ridiculous predicament.
“Well? Aren’t you going to help get us out of here, or are you going to lay there and take a nap? Don’t you care that we’re trapped here?”
Irritation seeped into his brain, breaking his concentration. Opening his eyes, he stared into the blackness above them, curiously lit with the twinkle of faux stars, before replying without looking at her, “No. Your reality is no concern of mine. My only goal is to return to the Sanctum. I must have connected with yours somehow,” he trailed off, bothered by such a simple mistake.
“The Sanctum?” Hermione breathed, any pretense of negative emotion gone as she excitedly launched herself across the open space between them, sitting cross-legged and leaning into his personal space, much to Strange’s dislike.
“Yes. The Sanctum Sanctorum. You’ve heard of it?”
“Heard of it? Merlin, yes! It’s legendary! Are you telling me you live there? What I wouldn’t give to visit -”
“Not an option,” he snapped, finally turning his irritated gaze upon her. She really was pretty up close, if she’d stop running her mouth. “It’s sacred, and as another magical being, as you obviously are, has brought me here, it’s imperative I return to figure out where my meditation went wrong. Your little spell won’t keep me here.”
“Wha- my spell? I wasn’t casting any such thing! I was simply reading my book when I opened my eyes and had been transported here! If this is anyone’s doing, the fault lies with you!” she accused, poking him in the chest with a pointy finger.
He gingerly wrapped his long, thin fingers around her wrist and removed it purposefully, carefully. “Do not touch me. I don’t like being touched.”
“Well, excuse me. You certainly are full of yourself.”
“I do not enjoy having my personal space violated.”
“Your personal space? Oh, that’s rich.”
Feeling petty, so unlike her ordinarily in-control and rational self, the frustrated witch later wondered what came over her when she recalled purposefully straddling his waist, allowing her sex to nestle against his flaccid cock.
“How do you like that for an invasion of personal space? This is your fault, and there is no point in denying it.”
“Please kindly remove yourself to your own side of the bed,” he groused, desperately trying to ignore the wet heat from her cleft dripping arousal onto his organ. His teeth grit once more in an effort not to allow her to arouse him. It was a much more difficult feat than he imagined, clearly needing more self-discipline if such a petite creature could reduce him to a puddle of gooey lust in seconds.
Despite his best efforts, Strange grew rock-hard beneath her, groaning deeply when she moved her wet cunt up and down over his shaft, wetting it lightly as she used him to pleasure herself.
“The book says we have to copulate to end this – scenario-” Hermione replied, a bit breathlessly.
While she had her arms folded under her pert breasts, putting them on inadvertent display for Stephen’s viewing pleasure, she continued moving, now adding little grinding circles as she stimulated herself against him. “Mm, you feel outstanding, despite being an obnoxious prat,” she added.
“You’re one to talk, Miss. I’ve specifically asked you to remove yourself from my person, yet you continue to violate my body.”
“Violate you? How am I violating you? Didn’t you read a word the book had to say? It takes two to tango,” she quoted, remembering some American slang her cousins used on summer visits.
“Right. Well. I may have been physically aroused while meditating, but it is a normal manifestation of -”
“Do you always talk this much?” she groused, losing herself to her rising peak, aching to take him inside of her, her body demanding release.
The rational part of her kicked and screamed at her to get away from him. The animal side had taken over, her instincts drawn to the magnificent piece of wizard flesh like a bitch in heat. It had been so very long since she’d had a proper screw.
“Will you fuck me? We can talk later.”
“Pardon me?”
“Fuck. Me. Now, preferably,” she moaned, starting to pluck her nipples, lower lip between her teeth, eyes shut and head thrown back.
Disciplined as he was, even Dr. Strange had his physical limits. Whatever was affecting her was breaking down his own formidable mental barriers.
Raw lust consumed him, and he was suddenly aware of his sac, heavy and full, ready to burst as it pulsed in time with her circling rhythm.
“If you insist.”
She wasn’t ready for the hot length and girth of him as he filled her partway. With a small scream, she stilled, gripping the hairs on his chest that had him hissing through his teeth at the delicious pain.
“You’re very tight, miss –”
“Hermione. Granger.”
“Stephen. Strange,” he returned, finally balls-deep in her soaking, tight cunt. He’d never felt anything so heavenly.
“Stephen. Please, move. Fuck me. I need you so much.”
“As you wish,” he politely replied. However, his words were tinged with dark lust as he gripped her hips without further hesitation and began to hammer into her from underneath, the satisfying squelch of his balls impacting her, spreading more of her juice that ran down his cock and balls in rivulets, bringing a sense of male pride and satisfaction he’d never felt before.
So. This was what he’d denied himself, and he didn’t feel weakened. On the contrary, he felt his inner strength magnifying with each thrust bottoming out inside of her.
Hermione draped herself across his chest then, changing the angle as she pulled his ears, forcing his lips to hers and devouring him with her lips and tongues.
Little noises escaped her mouth, and she panted, “Oh, oh, oh,” in-between filthy, open-mouthed kisses. He was really very orally talented. Her next move would be to sit on his face, Merlin willing he wanted to continue.
“No… condom…” he grit out, unable to stop fucking her.
“Potion. Monthly,” she gasped back at him.
It was good enough. Assuming – dangerously – she was implying she was protected, he let his body take over entirely and flipped her over, turning her and pushing her face-down into the bed, gripping her hips anew and sheathing himself in her, draping over her back as he mounted and started fucking her in earnest.
“I’ve never – you’re – GOD!” he shouted, speeding up as he felt her cunt clamp down on him.
Screaming her release into the coverlet, Hermione gushed over Stephen’s cock, sucking him into her and holding him there, squeezing him almost to the point of pleasurable pain and literally milking the release from his body.
As his orgasm hit, it didn’t even occur to him to try and pull out. All he knew – all he was – was this blissful joining with this very sexy, delicious, fucking insanely horny woman beneath him. In all of his years, he’d never let himself go, priding himself on control.
There was something to be said for animal magnetism as he felt his balls pulse and pulse and pulse, coming so hard and copiously his vision danced as black spots whirled over his field of sight. Oxygen became a scarce commodity, and then he was sagging against her back, sending them both plunging onto the soft surface.
Realizing he was crushing her, he rolled off, dragging her with him and burying his nose in her hair, inhaling her scent to remember her always for future wank sessions. It physically pained him to think he might never see her again, once – whatever this was – between them, wore off and they were sent spinning back to their own lives.
“Tell me you’re not a dream,” he begged uncharacteristically, already feeling his dick hardening against her ass.
Her panting had subsided, and she hummed appreciatively at his size now pressed to her backside.
“I’m not a dream. Are you one?”
“Not in the least. Don’t get me wrong; if it turns out to be a dream, I’m not complaining. But I’d rather remember this as the best sex of my life than simply wake up in a pool of my own release.”
She laughed aloud at that and turned around in his embrace, their eyes locking, something profound, mysterious, and dangerous connecting between them.
Stephen’s fearful heart tried to make him run from it, but he shoved it away forcefully. This is what he’d been missing in life. This woman. This aggravatingly sexy, obviously intelligent, annoying, beautiful thing that had just blown away all of his narrow-minded preconceptions about sex and women in one fell swoop.
“I think I just fell in love with you.”
Again, she didn’t scoff at his sudden, improbable declaration but merely nodded as if it happened every day. “I know.”
She studied him then, then answered once more, “I think – no – I’m sure I’m falling in love with you too.”
“Curious,” he said, and she grinned.
Her hand ventured down to his prick and stroked him, sending his sinfully long and gorgeous eyelashes fluttering closed once more.
“Let’s have another go. Then we can talk.”
“Or we can screw until we can’t walk.”
“There is that.”
The latter option held the most appeal. Talking would have to wait for another day.