Marvel Oneshots (X Reader)

Stephen Strange - Strange Night

Tw—Excessive Swearing

You were cooking dinner in your kitchen when the sparking portal appeared out of nowhere, cleaving your dining table in half and depositing a bleeding man flat on his face and straight onto your freshly cleaned floors.

The room was silent except for the quiet sizzling of bacon in the pan. You were currently standing at least five feet away from it.

You momentarily stared at the man—who appeared to be unconscious—and then the portal that was still hovering amidst the destruction of your dining table. Another room was visible through it, although you couldn't make out anything familiar or recognisable.

"Oh my god," you whispered, blinking rapidly as your gaze returned to the man. He was bloody and dirty, something you were used to seeing on your patients but you'd never had any like this. Surely you were dreaming, and a bleeding man dressed in some mystical, sorcery-like cosplay had certainly not portalled into your dining room.

The man weakly reached a dirty hand out.

"OH MY GOD!!" you screamed, clawing at the counter behind you as you tried to lift your feet up off the floor to get as far away from the man as possible. He groaned like a zombie and you jumped back, brandishing the spatula out like a weapon. "OH MY FUCKING GOD! FUCKING HELL! NO! NOPE! NO THANKS!"

He flopped over to the side, still unconscious. You screamed again, your knees held tightly up to your chest as you cowered on the counter. A part of your brain was aware that you were overreacting in an absolutely embarrassing way, but the rest of your brain didn't care. This was real. THIS WAS REAL. HOLY SHIT.

You tried to calm yourself down. What was it everybody said to do? Deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out. In—

HOW WERE YOU SUPPOSED TO CALM DOWN WHEN THERE WAS SOME RANDOM UNCONSCIOUS GUY IN YOUR DINING ROOM!! YOU DIDN'T EVEN INVITE YOUR FRIENDS OVER UNLESS YOU HAD AT LEAST A WEEK TO PROCESS IT!!

Okay. He obviously needed help. Otherwise, he might die on your floor and what would you say to the cops? Well...there was a veggie garden outside that was a perfect size to hide a body if it came down to that. The plants could do with the fertiliser.

Did you seriously just think that?

You held your breath as you watched the guy lie there. He was breathing—that was a good sign. The portal was still open, the sparking ring hovering calmly. A blur of red was growing bigger, and you tilted your head, trying to comprehend what it was. It looked kinda like a cloak...but cloaks couldn't fly, right?

"Holy shit!" you cried as it passed through the ring of sparks, the portal closing neatly behind it. It was a cloak. It was a flying red cloak. A fucking flying cloak!

The cloak levitated above the unconscious—possibly dead—guy, the lapels fluttering in a non-existent breeze. You stared at the cloak from where you were still crouched on the bench. It didn't have eyes, but you could feel it staring back.

It began to float closer, the bottom edge pointing to you then pointing to the man.

"What the fuck? What do you want? Get away from me!"

The cloak continued gesturing, getting closer and closer as you shrank back. God damn it you should never have accepted those brownies from Jason after patching him up earlier today. You knew he sold drugs but he'd said that the brownies were clean and they had looked and smelt and tasted so damn good...

If this was what being high was like, then why the hell did people willingly do this?

The cloak whirled around, crouching (could cloaks even crouch?) beside the man, one end gently wrapped around his hand. What. The. Fuck.

Now you were curious. You could feel your heart slowing down as the cloak remained, swishing slightly, mournful. That man was about to die, and you could help him, yet here you were, cowering on a countertop. You could heal him—maybe? As you calmed down, the realisation settled within you that this had actually happened. You weren't imagining this, as crazy as it was.

You slowly inched a leg down the counter until your toe touched the ground. You slid to the floor, creeping slowly over to his side, opposite the red cloak. It flared at you as you tried to roll the man over.

"Woah. I'm trying to help him." You spoke softly and the cloak relaxed. "Please don't hurt me. I'm talking to a floating cloak."

You inhaled sharply after rolling the man over. A massive wound dug into his stomach, blood oozing out. You'd never tried to heal a wound that big—and your powers didn't work like the typical instant-heal sort of thing. It was highly technical for you to heal someone. You had to work on little parts at a time—such as prompting tiny minor cells to regrow then join to make tissue. It was slow work and exhausting. Sometimes, it could take you an hour just to do a small slice right.

You exhaled. You had to try. It didn't have to be neat—you could make it look better later. What you needed to do now was stop the bleeding.

Hands lightly brushing the exposed skin of his stomach, you focused your mind on the wound. You could feel all the torn cells and shredded tissue along the large slice, and you concentrated on one end. Latching on to a damaged cell as your starting point, you let energy flow from your hands to that cell, prompting it to heal. After it was done, you pushed the energy outwards, healing the cells beside it. This was the easy part. The hardest part was replacing cells that had been completely destroyed.

One step at a time.

You continued healing, growing lightheaded the longer it took. Sweat drenched your back and your hands began trembling, but you were almost finished so you continued letting the energy flow from your body into the wound. Every so often, you would slow the healing to check his heart, making sure it was still beating strong.

You sighed with relief, removing your hands from his chest. You closed your eyes against a wave of dizziness as you left that hyper focused state. Once it passed, you looked at the wound. It was sealed—not neatly—but at least he was no longer bleeding out. That would have to do for now.

Tired and hungry, you rose to your feet, checking the time on your phone.

Four hours? It took four fucking hours!? No wonder you were so hungry! Dinner—wait! Your eyes shot over to the pan where you had been frying bacon before this incident. The pan was empty and had been turned off, the oven as well. What the hell?

You spun around when you heard a light fluttering, and gasped. The red cloak from before hovered proudly at your dining table. On the table was your dinner—or, the dinner you had been going to cook.

You tilted your head. "Did you do this?" The cloak nodded. "Awww. Thank you. Your friend is going to be alright. I just had to slow his heart to stop the bleeding while I healed him, but he should wake up soon enough."

The cloak spun a circle happily, then lightly picked up the guy and lay him down on the couch in the connecting room. Great. You'd have to clean that later.

With a sigh you sat down. This had been one strange night.

At least the food was good.