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inactive-hellish-hyperfixation · 2 years

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Happy early birthday | Stephen Strange x gn!reader

genre: fluff

requested: no

summary: Stephen Strange becomes familiar with the soft violin playing of his new assistant at the New York Sanctum, and falls. Hard.

a/n: I didn't plan out what gender reader was gonna be for this, so please let me know if there were any gendered terms i need to fix! Also, his birthday is November 18th. Also also, I'm considering making a second part to this, so lmk if thats something you'd like!

word count: 2.4k

To anybody else, the sounds of the violin echoing through the seemingly endless expanse of the sanctum may have been eerie. Scary, even. Doctor Strange wasn’t anybody else. To him, each stroke of the bow across the four strings was as close to heaven on earth as he could get. The melody flowed not only through the building but through his entire body, intertwining with each muscle and bone, filling him to the brim with relaxation and comfort. He never was very music-inclined, the only experience being in the OR when he played the song guessing games with the other surgeons to help pass the time, but this touched every musical cell in his body and brought them to life.

It began when you became a resident of the sanctum. Mostly to be backup for when Stephen couldn’t be there, Wong assigned you to become an assistant to the master of the New York sanctum (you liked to call it co-master). It took a while for Stephen to drop his serious exterior around you, but considering the fact that the two of you spent the majority of your time together, it was hard for the man to keep it up. More than that, though, the sorcerer found that he had a weak spot for you. You who stayed up to greet him when he came back home late, waiting with drooping eyes and a smile just to make sure he was safe; you who reminded him to take breaks, eat, and stay hydrated throughout the day; you who healed his wounds when he came back from a fight bloodied and bruised; and finally, you who played the violin at late hours of the night so beautifully that it soothed the fear from his nightmares or relaxed him when his mind couldn’t shut off.

The first time Stephen heard it, he had woken up in a cold sweat after having a recurring nightmare of the night of the car crash. He was disoriented for a few minutes, trying to catch his breath and calm down, when he heard it. It was soft and far away, as though it were coming from a room down the hallway, but it was there. It was so soothing he didn’t realize his breathing had regulated and his grip on the sheets had loosened. His first instinct was to get closer, to hear it clearer, to fill his mind up with the gorgeous melody, but his body was tired and he fell back asleep soon after laying down.

The second time Stephen heard it, he was sitting at a desk in his room poring over a number of books he borrowed from the library at Kamar-Taj. It was late and he couldn’t help but hear your chastising voice telling him “you should sleep more, Stephen! You of all people should know how important sleep is as a doctor. Besides, you get even grumpier than usual when you sleep late.” He chuckled at the thought before his mind wandered off. He wondered if you were asleep, what you would be doing awake, what you were dreaming about, and generally thought about you until the sound of the violin wandered into his room.

It sounded more like warm ups at the start. Notes ascending up then down with varying rhythms and speeds and a couple simple tunes like Twinkle Twinkle Little Star or Mary Had A Little Lamb. A few minutes of that passed by when the first piece began. He recognized it, though he didn’t know the name. Stephen leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, allowing himself to thoroughly enjoy the soothing melody. When that piece ended and another one began, he stood and left the room, determined to find the source and get closer to it.

He tread softly through the hallway, following the sound of the now lively music. His search ended when he saw your form in front of the large circular window, body moving accordingly to what you were playing. You swayed slightly at slower parts, slightly dipped down as emphasis on heavier notes, and sometimes even did turns on rests, soft laughter becoming part of the music. Stephen couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He was captivated by the passion you exuded and the gorgeous melody that you produced. The moonlight and soft lamplight only highlighted the beauty of the scene as it hugged your form, making you look like you were glowing.

He stood there and watched you play from beginning to end without a sound, and only after you began putting the instrument in its case did he snap out of it and approach you. He bathed you in genuine compliments and the two of you somehow ended up sitting together on Stephen’s bed with you talking about how you came to love the violin and him absorbing every word as though they were water and he were a man stranded in the Sahara Desert. A few hours later, Stephen woke to the sight of you still sleeping peacefully next to him in an undeniably funny, yet endearing because it was you, position.

That day was still fresh in his mind as though it were mere minutes ago. Every time he thought about whether that was because of how breathtaking you were or because it was when he realized he was in love with you, his answer was both. He fell in love with you and your playing months ago, but the flame burned brighter than ever. In fact, every interaction he had with you only added fuel to it.

***

“Who pissed in your breakfast?”

You were currently in a corner of the library tucked away somewhere in the sanctum, full bookshelves creating a nice secluded area and a large window allowing natural evening light into the room. You were standing in front of the wall, a couple pages of music sheets taped along it, and holding your violin. Stephen happened to find you while he was “looking for a book.”(In truth, he was looking for you as he hadn’t seen you in a couple hours and missed you, but he would never admit it.) His initial relief at seeing you in the library dissipated when he noticed the distressed expression on your face.

“Myself, apparently. I don’t know why I can’t get this right.” You sighed and placed your instrument on the desk next to you before dragging the chair away from the desk and flopping down onto it.

“How long have you been at this?” Stephen approached you and placed a tentative hand on your shoulder, noticing the exhaustion in your eyes and hair that looked like upset hands ran through them multiple times. You leaned your head back onto the chair and looked at him.

“Not sure. A couple hours, I think? The sun moved a lot since I started.” Knowing the signs of overworking as a person who overworks himself, Stephen grew worried.

“Have you eaten anything? Or at least drank some water?” Your eyes widened in the slightest, so small most people would’ve missed it, but he noticed. He grew more suspicious when you turned your head to look at the sheet music covered wall in front of you.

“Yeah, of course I have.” As if on cue, your stomach made a strange gurgling sound. You now turned your head entirely away from the sorcerer to the desk on your left. Stephen rolled his eyes and quickly portaled away. Just as you started questioning what he was doing, he portaled back with a few takeout boxes of food and two plates in his hands. It smelled amazing. Your stomach made another embarrassing sound.

“Let’s eat.”

It turns out that Stephen had popped into your favorite restaurant and bought dinner for the both of you, being somewhat lacking in the cooking department. Now the two of you sat at the desk, Stephen taking his time with his meal while you tried your hardest to not shove the entire plate down your throat.

“Now that you’re less hungry, what’s so important that you worked on it for multiple hours straight with no break or food?” As a response, you stared at your food more intensely and shoveled more of it into your mouth for more time to think as you chewed.

“It’s nothing. Just a piece I like, nothing special.” You decided to keep it vague, and the sorcerer obviously didn’t believe a word judging by the exasperated sigh that left his lips.

“You look worse than I did after spending 5 years in oblivion, y/n. Cut the crap.” You finally looked up from your food to make eye contact with the man sitting across from you. At first glance, he appeared to be irritated at the lack of a direct answer, but you knew better. You saw the worry in his eyes and in the furrow of his brow, and felt guilty for making him concerned about you.

“Beethoven’s Romance in F major,” you mumbled and looked back down at your plate, unable to keep eye contact anymore.

“What? Is that the song you were working on?” The tone of his voice became a little softer, recognizing the hesitance in your voice at sharing this information with him.

“Piece—but yeah. Beethoven’s Romance. It’s supposed to be played with an orchestra, but I changed it to make it an unaccompanied solo." You were avoiding the real point of practicing this piece in particular, and he knew it.

"Why is it bothering you so much?" At this point, exasperation was entirely replaced with curiosity.

"It's the 17th of November today." You said it as though the date was supposed to explain everything. It didn’t.

"And? What does that have to do with anything?" At this, you finally looked back up at him and huffed, embarrassed to explain.

"What can you give a man who has everything?" The confusion didn’t leave his face, so you huffed and steeled your nerves before continuing to explain.

“That’s the question I’ve been asking myself for about a month now. Wong told me your birthday was coming up and I didn’t have any good ideas for a present, but I didn’t want to get you something shitty, I care about you too much to do that!” At this, Stephen raised an eyebrow and you felt your face get hot, but you pressed on. “So I decided to play something for you, since you say you like it so much.”

“And you chose something called Romance?”

“That, and Elgar’s Salut D’amour. Means greeting of love.”

Silence followed your words and you risked taking a glance at his face, a million possibilities of what expression he would have running through your mind. Out of all of them, you never could have imagined the red that dusted his cheeks and soaked the tips of his ears.

“You’re not very subtle, are you?” His lips turned up into a smirk, and a laugh followed. Not the mocking kind—he wouldn’t do that to you—but the kind that comes out instinctively when you don’t know how to react. You didn’t know whether that was a good thing or not. Subconsciously, your muscles tensed up even more and you felt tears pricking at your eyes. Looking away was the safest option in trying not to show your vulnerability.

“Shit, I didn’t mean it like that.” You felt a hand fall shakily on top of your own. “Hey, look at me,” his voice was soft in comparison to the spoken words. With a deep inhale, you managed to force your head back into position to look at the man sitting across from you.

“I couldn’t ask for a better gift. Nobody’s ever even considered giving me something so personal and intimate before, and I couldn’t imagine it being anybody else.” The redness subsided only slightly, but the smile on his face went from amused to warm—maybe even loving. The hand that only lightly grazed yours now grasped it, trembling yet firm.

“I… You like it? You don’t… hate me for it, or anything?” You asked tentatively, shoulders beginning to drop and tears no longer threatening to fall from your eyes.

“I love it. Though, I could think of one thing that would make it better,” he spoke with a teasing tilt now, sensing that your anxiety was abating. “Tonight—now, if possible—do you want to go on a date?” At the words, you burst out into a wide grin.

“Absolutely not.” You pulled your hand away from Stephen’s and stood, placing your hands on your hips. The shocked look on his face only served to make the smile on your face bigger. “It’s not your birthday until tomorrow, and this is supposed to be a birthday present! Unfortunately for you, I don’t give early gifts.” You reached for his hands and tugged him out of his chair into a standing position, the man now wearing a smile that was smaller in size in comparison to yours, but held the same amount of bliss. You turned away, made a portal to his room, and lightly pushed him in.

“You don’t get to listen to my playing until tomorrow, got it?” At this, the sorcerer rolled his eyes and pulled you into the portal too, holding you close with hands at your waist.

“What about a preview kiss? Can I have one of those?” He leaned down until your faces were so close he could graze the tip of his nose against yours, and could feel your breath. Unsurprisingly, it smelled like dinner, but he couldn’t bring himself to care at that moment. You made a similar movement, leaning up until you felt the scratchiness of his facial hair, made a humming sound as an indication that you were about to bring your lips to meet his, and left a peck right on the corner of his mouth before pulling away entirely to step back into the other side of the portal.

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” You waved, took in one last look at the Sorcerer Supreme standing there, arms wrapped around air, leaning down at an awkward angle, a dazed look on his face as though he hadn’t processed what just happened quite yet. Then you closed the portal.

Stephen ended up staying in that position in the middle of his room for about a minute before finally unfreezing, and let out the most genuine laugh he’d had in a long while. Although he could’ve easily made a portal to go back to the library and get revenge on you, he decided to listen to your words and eagerly got ready for bed, mind racing with all the ideas of what he could do for his first date with you, his violinist.

#stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x male reader #stephen strange fanfic #dr strange x reader #dr strange x male reader #reader is a tease #gender neutral reader #marvel x reader #marvel x male reader #stephen strange fluff #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange imagines #stephen strange x gender neutral reader #stephen strange x gn!reader

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just-a-strange-boy · 8 months

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a helping hand

part one

part two here

masterlist

Unable to use his hands after the accident, Stephen is in desperate need for some help. And who are you to refuse?

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader (GN)

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), questionable sexual proposal, handjob, edging, orgasm control

A/N: IT'S TIME! buckle up bc this is shameless... and tbh who wouldn't love to help our poor Stephen in need

"Of course I'll help out", you had said, thinking that you could spare some time, to sporadically take care of Christine's friend, determined to offer a hand whenever you could.

It was a clear arrangement – whenever she couldn't be around to help, you'd be the one to step in for the time being. Keep an eye on him, help him around the house, and make sure he won't do anything stupid that might hurt himself.

And you had just been fine with that. It wasn't an issue for you to pop by once in a while. You had flexible work hours and being the reliable person that you were, Christine knew you'd definitely jump in when needed.

What you hadn't expected was kind of getting stuck with helping, something you had most definitely not signed up for, to the point where you found yourself regularly on duty during your free time. Not that you didn't like to help out – there were worse things you could have imagined and there must have been a good subconscious reason why you kept agreeing to it.

You just hadn't planned to get so wrapped up in it.

Instead of simply sparing a couple of hours for Christine's friend because you could and thought helping him out was a good deed, you had ended up agreeing to an entire week on duty at his apartment, because someone had the audacity to leave for a medical congress, letting the task of caring for him fall into your hands and not missing the opportunity to instate you as a personal watchdog.

"Yeah, don't worry about it", you had said, though her request initially confused you.

Why was she asking you to stay around his apartment for an entire week? Not even Christine stayed around him for that long, knowing fairly well how insufferable his behavior was sometimes, glad she had the distraction of leaving for work and getting out of the house once in a while.

Maybe you wouldn't have had to agree to staying at his apartment all week. A couple of hours would have sufficed and you couldn't even quite explain to yourself why you still put yourself up to the challenge.

Perhaps it was because Christine always had the tendency to put on that kind of tone and expression on her face that expressed 'Please do it for me or else I won't be able to get rest'.

Being the worry wart that she was, she wouldn't have let it go until you caved – which was exactly what you had done, agreeing to her request anyways and accepting you would just have to pester the man in question with your presence.

He probably would have been happy to stay on his own for a bit, with no one around to constantly get on his nerves. You often felt like this was exactly what Christine and you were doing.

He would have been fine, probably, because it wasn't like he was incapable of taking care of himself. Yes, he was in a vulnerable position, his last surgery hadn't been that long ago and his hands were still in some state. There were things he couldn't do on his own, he needed to rely on help with certain things, but he wasn't a child needing to be coddled.

Christine's friend, Stephen, had gotten into a fucking wreck of a car crash, leaving him unable to use his hands, which had taken the most damage. You had heard plenty about Stephen Strange before all that happened, considering he had been good friends with Christine ever since she had gotten employed at the Metro General. But you had never had the pleasure of truly getting to know him until you began helping him out.

Plenty of people probably knew, as did you, that Stephen used to be a truly brilliant neurosurgeon, who would obviously not be able to continue to work in that field since his hands were pretty mangled. Which of course was really frustrating him to the point where he had refused to accept help from outside, all alone in his stupidly huge apartment, relying on not another person in the world but Christine, who was pretty much the only friend he had.

And now he had you too, since Christine (understandably so) also needed a break from Stephen sometimes and had pulled in you, her sibling, for help.

At first Stephen had been mad at her for even bringing someone else around for something as ridiculous as being cared for, claiming he didn't need to be pitied by another person, as pity was all he had for himself and his lost career.

But once his frustration was out of the way, he had warmed up quickly to you. It might have been because he had quickly learned how snarky you were, unashamed to speak your mind and comment on his occasional dickish behavior, volleying his little jabs and teasing him right back.

Or perhaps, it was simply because you weren't throwing him a pity party, while never once belittling him for the amount of help he actually needed.

By all means, Stephen should consider himself lucky that someone put up with his shit.

It was a given that Christine helped him out, considering they'd been pretty close friends for years and colleagues as well, she was aggressively caring for those she loved, and since Stephen didn't have a lot of other people to rely on, she fit the role perfectly.

You also quickly began to understand why she had wanted to split 'Stephen duty' with someone else though and being family, you were apparently the only reasonable choice.

She could be certain that he wasn't going to dismiss you or else he would have to endure the wrath of Christine – and she sure had a temper people knew better than to mess with.

So had he though.

He truly was the perfect match for butting heads with on the regular. Sometimes you were convinced he was just being a cocky and arrogant ass out of spite, to rile you up, to get on your nerves as a payback for getting on his, to have some fun because he was getting sick of his recovery at home.

Sometimes you acted out of spite too, placing things out of his reach, screwing on bottle caps extra tight, rearranging his cupboards, to the point where he was forced to ask for help (which he hated doing), but this, as much as most of your comments, was all meant in good humor.

You were sure that Stephen got it. He didn't seem to mind that you were head-strong and speaking your mind, didn't seem too bothered by the harsh things you said sometimes or the not-so-friendly tone you tended to use when it was necessary.

He even seemed to find it rather amusing sometimes, making for playful banter, and in a way you were almost certain that he liked having someone to argue with, even if only for his entertainment.

It offered him some sort of distraction he desperately needed, after things going dastardly wrong, after all this suffering due to his own stupid lapse of judgment, letting himself be distracted while driving and leaping down a cliff.

There was a lot of pent up frustration within Stephen, a lot of sadness, and desperation. Things he didn't necessarily show, but obviously felt anyways. So whenever you managed to put a smile on his face with your gentle, friendly teasing, you were relieved to see him in a different mood.

You liked Stephen quite a bit, no matter how much he was irking you on some days – and no matter what it was, you were always there to help. So maybe staying at the apartment all week wouldn't be as bad.

Surprisingly enough, Stephen hadn't resented the idea either, though of course dropping the occasional comment about not wanting to be under supervision 24/7.

While you were not one to coddle, going after your own work on your laptop and giving Stephen some space during the day, you were insistent on taking care of his basic well-being, as usual.

You did care for Stephen, and not just because of your sister. In some sort, you considered him your own friend as of now, wanting to make sure he was having a reasonably pleasant recovery, fully aware how much it must suck to go through all of this.

How far you were willing to go though? No one, not even you, would have been able to tell.

"You can either eat the food I make for you or go back to wasting your money on shitty takeout", you had set pretty clear the first evening, scolding him like he was an insolent child not wanting to eat his greens, staring him down at the kitchen table when he wouldn't bother touching the dinner you made, "But I sure as hell won't let you miss out a meal."

Whenever you had stepped in prior, you were trying to make sure Stephen ate properly and regularly, because you knew the man occasionally refused to take a meal altogether, which usually ended in an argument. When arguing with Christine, she tended to give in.

While you were really fed up with his stubbornness sometimes, you had always accomplished getting at least some food into Stephen and this time was no different.

A mere two days later, you had been quietly working on your laptop in the living room, waiting for Stephen to finish up his shower, when you heard a thud and a loud "Fuck", thinking that perhaps the shampoo bottle had slipped out of his hands. It didn't sound like a dangerous bang, so you weren't sure whether you needed to check on him or not, but just in case something bad had occurred...

You still got up, caught a peek into the bathroom and rolled your eyes hard when noticing that it hadn't been his shampoo, and dear Lord, Stephen had apparently managed to slip, the spray of the shower still raining down on him while he was sulking on the tiled floor.

"Did you hurt yourself?", you asked instead of 'Are you okay?', because you knew that Stephen felt far from okay the way things were. He was obviously ashamed this had happened, any other person would have been too, but accepting of the situation itself, accepting that he needed help.

He didn't dare to look at you then, but you could tell there was defeat written all over him and it probably wasn't helping his embarrassment that he was stark naked – which wasn't the first time you had seen him like this, as you had assisted a few showers before and gotten into plenty of awkward situations whereas you'd seen a bit more than asking for, but still... the two of you sure could have imagined a more comfortable setting.

Though you were rather unafraid to touch him, which was a good thing. How else could you have possibly helped?

You touched Stephen all the time. Helping him get dressed? Done that. Combed his hair? Yup. Shaved his stupidly handsome face? Also yes. Changed the dressings on his hands? A given. Assisting him in holding as much as a spoon without dropping it? Daily. Tucking him into bed at night? Okay, maybe not that one, but you sure would have, if he had asked you to.

"It's hard to fall down gracefully without using your hands to help yourself", Stephen sighed, but turned out to be unharmed by his tumble, though he would likely still get away with some bruises from the impact. Coming round the shower cubicle, you could see his knees seemed to have taken a lot of the brunt, not too mention he had cracked the skin of his elbow open, trying to not use his hands to ease the momentum.

"This is ridiculous. Slipping in the shower like some seventy year old sod”, he grumbled.

"I slipped in the shower once as a child and that's how I lost two of my teeth. It happens, Stephen", you tried to ease the mood, momentarily seizing the spray, so you could aid Stephen to get back up without getting too wet yourself. You casually looked him over – he seemed fine enough to continue. At least he hadn't banged his head or something. Still, you decided to stay nearby for the rest of his shower, making sure he was able to get out unharmed.

"What were you even doing? Were you feeling dizzy?", you inquired, helping him towel off his hair, quietly acknowledging how long it had gotten since meeting him for the first time and especially how the gray on his temples had begun to spread.

"No, just unaware of my surroundings for a moment, didn't think and... there I went", Stephen answered, but you weren't sure if that was the whole truth.

You accepted it though, continuing to help him dry off. Situations like these brought an uncomfortable awareness to your mind - he was putting so much trust into you, letting you help him like this, and you had never really managed to find a good answer as to why he was allowing you do all of those things for him.

All the signs of trust were obviously there. He was letting himself be vulnerable with you, being in situations that were so deeply intimate without refusal or much shame.

Stephen was allowing you to touch him too, aiding him with getting dressed, letting you check his newly won bruises today – and as usual, quietly accepted your care for his hands, his sore point, tender and heavily scarred, so that he mostly kept them hidden beneath a layer of bandages, ashamed of having anyone see them.

Sometimes, only sometimes, you even got the impression that whenever your hands were on him, it seemed to ease the tension out of his shoulders, never minding the undoubted awkwardness of the moment.

You weren't one to judge. Maybe he did want a bit of comfort after all and therefore didn't mind being taken care of sometimes, even though always pretending that he didn't need any help or tending to.

Everyone needed someone. Even him.

Stephen was a very lonely person. He would have never admitted to it, but all the fame and the glory from his neurosurgery days hadn't really ensured stable friendships and people being actually interested in him on a personal level. On the contrary, a lot of people had dropped Stephen rather quickly. But not Christine.

And thanks to her, you wouldn't anytime soon either.

You grew aware of Stephen's actual issue, when your work was interrupted for another time that same day. Finally coming to actually work on a commission that had been prompted weeks ago, setting the final touches to the project, tapping away on your graphic tablet, you took note of the noises coming from Stephen's bedroom.

Somehow you tried to make sense of it as moans of discomfort, anguish, perhaps he was having a nightmare, perhaps he was in pain, perhaps he was just frustrated he couldn't sleep, a reoccurring problem he had described to you before.

Whatever it was, it did appeal to your little helper syndrome and you at least felt like you needed to look after him, figure out if anything was going on that might require your help.

So you went to check on him, no regard for personal privacy, quietly opening the door to the bedroom, about to inquire what was going on and whether he was okay.

"Stephen? Is everything... oh..." Shit. Okay.

You had barely crossed the threshold to the room when you took note of what exactly was happening. Because the noises of frustration weren't rooted in trouble sleeping, but as it seemed in sexual desperation – and apparently the man had been trying to get off, unable to take care of his evident erection, pulling the blankets over himself immediately once noticing that you were standing in the doorway.

Awkward.

Standing like a deer in headlights, you wondered which one of you would have rather wanted a hole to open in the ground and swallow you whole to avoid the complete embarrassment.

"God, fuck, I'm so sorry", you apologized after overcoming the initial full-body freeze, not sure whether to leap out of the room, cover your eyes or just act bluntly about it. Logically it would have been best to not make a big deal out of it, because it wasn't, not really.

Just a private moment you had interrupted. Nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone had needs.

"I was... uh... I was worried something was the matter and...", you tried to explain then, going on stuttering and noticing that nothing you were about to say was going to save the awkwardness of the situation.

"Well, you know what's the matter now", Stephen sighed, barely illuminated by the soft lamp light from the bedside table, though still turning away from you in plain shame, continuing on with the sort of self-pity you had never experienced so strongly from Stephen before.

"I'm pathetic. Can't shower without help, can't live without help, I can't even jerk off without help, because of this stupid fucking car crash and these stupid fucking hands and I can't even blame anyone but myself for it."

It wasn't all too often that the man voiced his own hurt so intensely, clearly on edge, emotional about what had and, in that case, what hadn't happened.

Understanding of his evident frustration, but unsure what to do with him now, in this state, you contemplated. Things were already awkward enough and it didn't help you remained standing there while Stephen was wallowing in self-pity, and you weren't really sure why the idea of helping him out even crossed your mind in the first place.

Sure, helping around the apartment was no big deal, attending to Stephen's needs was okay, but taking care of this rather specific issue... you didn't want to push his boundaries too much after all.

And yet you were so bold as to ask, "So, are you in need of a helping hand?"

"Fuck off, now is not the time to make fun of me", Stephen groaned, probably ready to smother himself (or you) with one of the pillows, "Life already mocks me enough. I don't need to have you ridiculing me because of this."

"I'm not... I'm not mocking you", you assured him, finally moving, closing the door shut behind you as you went over to the bed, watching his cowered figure, "I'm just... I'm not pitying you. It's just...me... requesting like... a favor for a friend in need? I'm sure I could help you out some way? If you wanted me to, that is."

"Why would you even offer that?", Stephen asked, though appearing neither dismissive nor exceptionally shaken about what you were suggesting. A little in disbelief perhaps, but that wasn't surprising since you were clearly deciding to cross a boundary for the two of you here.

"Because life's been shit for you and I guess you could need some relief. Since you can't seem to get off on your own, I'm offering to help you with it", your answer seemed to make him consider and you planted yourself down on his bedside. You reached out and touched his shoulder, trying to find out how he would respond to you initiating touch.

"Maybe it will help you unwind and relax?"

Stephen turned to look at you. "We will never speak of this ever again", he hummed in agreement, "And not a word to anyone. Especially not Christine."

"Promise", you agreed – this was definitely not something you were meaning to boast about. You just wanted to help and the decision to do this for Stephen had been surprisingly easy to make.

A normalcy had kind of settled over the situation, which however didn't mean that you weren't feeling some type of way. You were a little jittery as you slid into bed next to Stephen, making sure not to cuddle up to him too much, because you weren't sure how he would feel about any unnecessary affections.

This was just about a quick hand job and that was it. It already must have taken a lot for Stephen to even accept the offer. Not to mention, a lot of desperation too. But he trusted you. This was a friendly gesture and nothing more. It didn't have to mean anything, let alone be a big thing between you, something that might never be mentioned ever again.

Gently pulling back the blanket, you probably held your breath as much as he did, reaching out, making sure to touch Stephen where his sleep shirt had ridden up at first, your hand finding its place on his stomach, letting him get accustomed to your touch, which wasn't entirely new to him – this time with a little different intention than usually, which made it all the more exciting.

The man drew out a shaky breath, agitated even, and his muscles were tensing up before he was even thinking of relaxing. Looking at him, you could see there was concentration on his brow, his gaze averted to the ceiling, neither daring to look at you nor at where your hand was resting.

"Okay?", you asked.

"Yeah", Stephen said, barely a whisper. His consent urged you to go on, your fingers brushing over his abdomen, following the trail of hair down his navel, fully aware that his pants were still bunched down somewhere around his knees, and you could have reached for him right away. But you didn't, sliding your hand past his arousal, stroking along his thighs instead, bracing yourself to make the next step and touch him more intimately.

But even your hand on him alone was seemingly enough to awaken all sorts of things within Stephen and he sucked in a sharp breath as your hand skirted his inner thighs. He was warm, his thighs firm under your touch, and you gently squeezed them in reassurance.

"You're a damn tease", he muttered.

You thought replying something witty, but you knew better and just bit your tongue this time, curiously watching his face, not meaning to stare at his genitals. It wasn't like Stephen didn't seem to like it. He had closed his eyes, seemed concentrated, small breaths were slipping past his lips, and he swallowed hard.

As you continued to carefully caress his thighs, you could most certainly feel him squirm, tensing again, but not because he was uncomfortable. He was aroused, you had no doubts, and his words just made it all the more evident he wanted you to go on.

“Please don't make me wait”, he requested, so quiet as if he was speaking a forbidden thought aloud.

You didn't, fingers trailing the path up his thighs, enjoying the little huff that escaped Stephen when you brushed past his balls, reaching for the half-hard member, responding to your touch with a twitch, stirring in interest. Wrapping your fingers around him, you grabbed the base of his cock in a tight hold.

"God, I feel like I'm about to burst already", Stephen groaned in anguish as his breathing almost turned labored instantly, pressing his head back into the pillows, and the notion alone encouraged you to be a little more bold in your advances.

"Well, we can't have that, can we? Spilling your cum all over my hand and I haven't even really gotten to touch you?", you chuckled, unsure how Stephen would react to your words, but unable to hold them back. He didn't seem to mind the dirty talk though – if anything, it seemed to rouse him even more. You could feel the warm flesh throbbing in your hand, practically begging to be touched, already craving some release.

But maybe you didn't have to make this as quick as you had planned for initially, only allowing him slow movements of your hand, gently tugging on his cock, drawing out soft moans. And dear lord, he sounded wonderful. It was entirely entrancing and you found it hard to choose where you'd rather look – at the subtle emotions passing Stephen's face during your ministrations or his erect cock. With utmost interest, your eyes flicked back and forth.

You made sure to touch all of him, from the base all the way to his tip, thumb gliding over the glistening cockhead, a satisfied smirk coming to your lips when you noticed how much precum he was already leaking, circling his glans, before stroking down again, tracing the veins on his length, making sure to give special attention to those spots that made him buck his hips when touched.

No wonder Stephen was responsive and desperate for it. You had no idea how long it might have been since someone had touched him, intimately most of all. Stephen didn't have anyone, wasn't partnered and you doubted that your sister was that sort of friend. His own hands wouldn't do, which had caused you two to end up like this in the first place. Touch-starved like this, there was no doubt Stephen deserved someone to take proper care of him – and you had made it your mission to do so.

Unfortunately for him, you weren't all that nice to just give everything to him right away.

So as the man tried to thrust into your hand, wanting to chase his own pleasure, needing more, you eased the grip of your fingers around him, almost letting go off him, stopping any sort of movement altogether, earning a huff from Stephen.

"Oh, fuck off", he groaned with evident frustration, fully aware you were doing this on purpose.

"Do you want me to stop then?", you asked, with a grin Stephen didn't see as he still kept his eyes closed, and loved the power you held over him - you could have just taken your hand away, walked off and left the man even more desperate than before. Of course, you would have never been so cruel to actually do this, now that you had already gotten started, but the thought was amusing.

"No", another groan followed, "I want you to go on, you asshole." Then a pause. "Please", he added then.

"As you wish", so you tightened the grip around him again, jerking him at a slower pace, gently at first, before beginning to move your hand a little quicker, knowing very well that the change of rhythm, the change of pressure applied, was going to keep Stephen more on edge than anything else. You knew how, in some ways, it was more than cruel to tease him like this, in his position no less, but if Stephen was seeking release that badly, you might at least make the best of it and draw it out as much as he could.

You'd make sure to give him an exceptional orgasm.

So whenever you felt Stephen tense up, his breath quickening, his moans increasing, his words more pleading, brows furrowing, biting down on his bottom lip, when he might have been just on that threshold to achieving an orgasm, you stilled any movements again, sometimes taking your hand off him entirely, sometimes only abandoning his cock for a moment, though always long enough for a looming orgasm to be ruined entirely. It was a torturous game to play, trying to bring Stephen close to the edge each time, only to deny him pleasure the last second.

It didn't take you much to drive him to madness with fleeting touches, promising release, not quite allowing him to get it, and then doing it all over again.

The sight of Stephen was wonderful. He was squirming, erratically breathing, his sweet moans turning to frustrated groans, his words reaching from "God, please, just let me come" to "I hate you for doing this to me", but still welcoming your hand whenever it returned to touch him, each time a little more.

You didn't even want to imagine how much his balls must have been aching after minutes of being edged and denied, but of course you decided to take pity on Stephen eventually. You weren't that heartless after all and when you finally gave into him chasing his pleasure, allowing him that sweet relief, guiding towards the long awaited orgasm, it was absolutely worth it.

For the last few strokes, you even let him thrust up into your hand, gently guiding him through his orgasm as it struck. A long and shaky moan escaped his throat, a sound of relief coming from deep within, his body completely tensing up, before that concentration finally left his brow and was replaced by a look of ease, surrendering to the sensations altogether.

You could feel his cock pulsing, thick cum spilling all over your fingers and it didn't even seem to end there. He really was bursting, arching his back off the mattress as he was coming loads and loads, his entire body was trembling, sweetly groaning.

You doubted anything could have ruined the moment for Stephen now and thoroughly enjoyed how he was seeming to enjoy himself, jerking him through the remaining throes of passion, until his body just slumped.

Noticing his orgasm had passed, you eventually took your hand off his cock, gently placing it on his lower stomach instead, both sticky with cum anyways. You smiled to yourself, following the movement of his chest, still breathing heavily, and decided to wait for him to calm down again, allowing him another moment of comfort, allowing him to have another presence near, someone warm and caring.

He deserved it.

Though it wasn't like you weren't doing this at least a little bit for your own gain. You had enjoyed doing this for Stephen, had drank in the sight of him, this intimate moment forever etched inside your brain. And now that you thought about it, you wondered about whether you could still only consider this a friendly favor or if perhaps you wanted things to change between you.

You had never really questioned the kind of feelings you harvested for the man. Or could see yourself potentially having for him, if there was any sort of potential at all. Of course, you had come to consider him a good friend – but good friends didn't just randomly pay each other sexual favors, did they? Not like you were counting on this being more than a one time thing... well, unless he wanted to perhaps.

"Jesus... that was kind of... mind blowing. I mean I haven't come for weeks, but I don't think I have ever come that hard in general...ever", Stephen commended you, interrupting your train of thought, still a little out of breath, "Fucking hell, where did you even learn to give handjobs like that?"

"Years of studying", you joked, deciding to definitely not give him an honest answer to his question, looking at him to find him curiously eyeing you in return, "Sorry for being a tease. Can't say that I didn't enjoy it though."

"So did I. As you can probably tell", Stephen sighed, seeming a lot more content, showing you one of his rare smiles, "Though I'm probably going to need to wash up again now. I'm sticky and sweaty."

"It was my pleasure. Make sure to tell me if you ever need assistance again", you patted his stomach and leaned in to give him a quick peck on the cheek, before withdrawing altogether, trying not to smear any of the sticky fluid on your hand anywhere else it wasn't supposed to be, deciding to flee the room quite fast after realization hit that you had just jerked your sister's friend off. You had made your own friend, a man relying on your help day by day, come the hardest in his life ever.

Though perhaps it didn't matter, for this was only going to be a one time thing and you'd accomplished to help him out, only because he needed it. The moment was gone now and it had been good while it had lasted. That was the most important thing.

Stephen's voice stopped you in the doorway when he spoke your name. "Thank you. Not just for this. For everything you do for me.”

You turned your head back for a moment, gave him a reassuring smile, acknowledging his gratitude, and left anyways.

#k writes #stephen strange #doctor strange #stephen strange x reader #doctor strange smut #stephen strange x you #marvel fanfiction #x gn reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #stephen strange x male reader

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ynscrazylife · 11 months

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Hey for your 4k celebration could you do purge the poison from marina with anyone from the mcu please?

Poisoned Mind, Poisoned Heart | Chapter 1

Series Summary: Dr. Strange turns to you, Wanda’s ex, to help him stop her before it’s too late. Can you do it or will Wanda corrupt you, too?

A/N: This is what came to my head when I listened to the song! Hope it fits. I'm excited for this series to start. Let me know if you want to be on this taglist.

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

Main Masterlist | MCU Masterlist

Doctor Stephen Strange was the last person you expected to see when you opened up your door. For a fleeting second, you considered slamming the door in his face, but that type of rudeness was never in your nature, no matter how much the flight in your fight or flight response was yelling at you to do so. “I should really start looking through the peephole before answering my door,” was what you ended up saying with a sigh.

Stephen fixed you with a small, knowing smile. “I’m going to pretend that’s just because I might’ve been a stranger and not because you don’t want to see me,” he joked. You knew what he was doing - trying to ease you into whatever reason he had for coming over here when he hadn’t seen or spoken to you in years with humor.

“Well, this isn’t just you being in the neighborhood and wanting to have a nice chat, is it?” You said, glancing down at the intricate costume he adorned.

Catching onto the fact that you didn’t want him to beat around the bush, Stephen gave you a slight nod. “May I come in?” He asked politely.

Despite being still weary and a bit nervous, you stepped aside. You knew that if he was coming here, he must have a good reason. Years ago, after the civil war between Steve and Tony, when you left the Avengers and said goodbye to being a superhero, you had strictly instructed everyone to leave you alone unless there was some threat to the universe. You had gone back briefly to help them fight Thanos, but quickly returned to your civilian life afterward.

Stephen walked in and you closed the door behind him, but didn’t lock it. You weren’t intending for him to stay long. The sorcerer took a moment to look around your hallway, at all the paintings and photos on your walls. “Nice house,” he murmured, picking up a photo of you on a nearby table and looking at it.

“Stephen,” you warned gently.

Stephen cleared his throat and set down the photo, turning back to you. “What do you know about what Wanda has gotten up to recently?” He asked.

It was akin to him dumping a bucket of ice water over your head - you visibly flinched, taken aback. Wanda. You had worked very hard to get over the woman you once loved, the love that ended due to you being on opposite sides of the Accords. Like Natasha, you had sided with Tony not because you really believed in the Accords, but because you wanted to keep the team together. Wanda hadn’t seen it that way and you didn’t exactly blame her for it, until you two started to get into awful screaming matches.

“I heard on the news about Westview . . . They say that no one’s been able to reach or find her since,” you answered carefully, remembering the conflicting emotions you had when finding out about it all. Even after all this time, you haven't been able to fall out of love. She stuck with you. A part of you hated it, the other part was enchanted by it. You still wanted the best for her and discovering what happened in Westview was painful.

“That was true, up until now,” Stephen said, taking a small step towards you.

You tried to hold back the gasp building up in your throat, but you failed. All you could do was bore your eyes into him as you waited for him to continue.

“There’s this . . . girl. Her name is America Chavez and she has these powers of accessing alternate realities that Wanda wants. I think she’s been corrupted by the Darkhold . . . If she gets access to these alternate realities, there’s no telling what she’ll do,” Stephen said.

You furrowed your eyebrows, now confused and feeling a little overwhelmed as his words swarmed your head. “Alternate realities?” You questioned.

“I can explain everything in detail, but I think you can get through to her, Y/N,” Stephen said.

No matter if you still loved her, if there was some deep part inside you that wanted to help, you still felt reluctant to return to that life. You started to shake your head. “She doesn’t love me, she fell in love with Vision,” you muttered, trying - wanting - to deny it.

“She never stopped talking about you,” Stephen revealed softly.

This caused you to squeeze your eyes shut, feelings and memories of another time washing over you all at once. “Stephen, I can’t-” you started to say.

“Let me explain everything back at the Sanctum Sanctorum and then we can go from there,” Stephen said, his voice still as sweet as honey. So charming and alluring, “This . . . isn’t just a threat to our universe. It’s a threat to all the universes.”

That was the nail in the coffin - you would never be able to fully rid yourself of your natural, heroic instinct to help people. “Okay,” you agreed, letting out a breath. Despite just telling yourself that you were only agreeing to hear him, you knew deep down, in your heart, what you got yourself into - you were going to try and help. Help Wanda, help Stephen, help the goddamn multiverse.

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hungryforpowernotfood · 3 months

Text

Thunderstorms

Summary: Stephen gets a panic attack during a thunderstorm.

Warnings: panic attack, PTSD, mentions of a past car crash

Pairing: Stephen Strange x gender neutral reader

Stephen enjoys the rain—the way it patters against the windows, and every surface outside, he finds it rhythmic and soothing. He also likes the way you watch it falling with curious eyes, as though you’ve never seen rain before in your life. Not to mention the smell it leaves afterward—that goes without saying. But ever since the accident, he’s hated thunderstorms.

At best, thunderstorms caused him were minor flashbacks—he would be paralyzed for a few minutes, before coming back to reality, slowly blinking in his surroundings. But the worst—and unfortunately most common—thing they caused were panic attacks.

He was good at keeping both of these a secret, and he hated the idea of anyone ever possibly finding out. In turn, he was careful about planning around the storm—often leaving chunks in his schedule of space if one was approaching. Even if one came by surprise, he knew how to make a quick escape within the first couple of rumbles—sometimes he was able to create a portal to somewhere with more tame weather, but the onset of one usually gripped his emotions too much for him to perform the spell.

Before he met you, he didn’t want anyone around while they happened—all he wanted was a dark place where no one else would be. Not that he had told you—despite the two of you dating for a while, and him trusting you more than anyone else in the world—he didn’t know how, or if he even could tell you he got panic attacks. He hadn’t even told you about his aversion to thunder, but the idea of you being there was nice.

Unfortunately, tonight was one of those nights where a thunderstorm came on unexpectedly without any kind of forecasting.

You had only started drifting to sleep when it started, but it woke him up quickly, making him jolt up. You could make out his figure in the darkness—sitting with the blankets cast across his lap, and his heaving deeply like he’d just had a nightmare.

“Stephen? What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, forcing his breathing to calm down. “Nothing…it’s nothing. Go back to sleep.”

“I wasn’t asleep,” you mumbled, before speaking up, “are you sure you're okay?”

He nodded, burying his hands beneath the blankets pooled in his lap so that you wouldn’t see them shaking—not wanting to worry you while he fought off the inevitable.

You kept looking up at him. Eventually, he met your eyes, and you saw him calm down slightly.

“I’m fine, really. I just need to catch my breath.” He insisted.

You hesitated, before nodding, and relaxing back into the bed, once again trying to lull yourself to sleep.

You listened to his breathing slowly, and he eventually laid back down, his back turned towards you. You closed the small gap between you and Stephen, pressing yourself up against his back, and wrapping your arms around his chest.

You could feel him relax against your touch, though his body tensed again with the next roll of thunder, and you could tell his breath quickened again. At this point, you only assumed he was afraid of thunder, and rubbed your hand up and down his chest to help alleviate it. But when he started shaking at the next sound of thunder, you caught on to what was going on.

“It’s okay.” You whispered, tightening your hold slightly—only to apply more pressure, but you made sure that if he pushed your arms away, he’d be able to get out.

But he didn’t push you away—he let out a shaky breath, and rolled over, wrapping his arms around you, burying his head into your chest. His hands were shaky against your back, and you could feel his tears streaking against your chest. You ran your hand up and down his back in an attempt to soothe him.

He jolted against you at the next roll of thunder, his fingers digging into your back—it slightly stung, but you made sure to not react to this.

“You’re okay,” you whispered, “you’re safe, I’m not going anywhere.” His quick, panicked breaths didn’t cease, but you started a breathing exercise, hoping that he would eventually catch on and follow it. You continued rubbing his back slightly, knowing Stephen usually preferred silence when he was upset.

After a while, he was able to focus more on your movements, and eventually caught on to the breathing pattern, beginning to mimic it. His body slowly began to relax against yours, though his tight grip never loosened.

And sometime after even that, Stephen came even more to his senses and unlatched his nails from your skin, mumbling an apology, the response to which was you simply kissing his forehead.

“Would you like tea?” You asked, after another moment of silence.

Stephen paused, and nodded, loosening his grip to let you get up. You went to the kitchen to make his tea, while he went into the bathroom to clean up, splashing his face with water, and drying off with a towel.

When you returned to the bedroom, he was sitting in bed reading. You could tell he was trying to show that he was fine now, but there was still a red rim around his eyes, and his hands had a slight tremble.

He glanced up at you when you entered the room and put his book down. He unsteadily took the tea, murmuring a genuine “thank you”, before bringing the cup up to his lips.

You nodded and crawled into bed next to him. Despite him sitting up, you decided to lie down, wrapping your arms around his hips.

“You don’t have to talk about it, but I’m here if you want to.” You said—you knew he didn’t always want to talk about his problems. Once something was so impending that it was cutting into his sleeping or eating habits or just general well-being, then you would become more stubborn about it, but you simply didn’t have the kind of relationship where you forced each other to talk about what was bothering the other. Both of you always preferred the other to talk on their own time.

There was a moment of silence, before Stephen simply placed his hand on your head, lightly massaging your scalp.

“Thank you.” He said softly, clearly still slightly broken up from crying.

He finished his cup, as the storm still raged outside, but with you lying in his lap he felt slightly better about it. He placed it down on the nightstand, before sinking under the blankets next to you, once again burying his face into your chest.

“I love you.” You whispered, wrapping your arms back around him, mirroring your previous embrace.

“I love you more.” He replied, his voice muffled against you, though you could feel his chest vibrating against you from the deepness of his voice, caused by the sleepiness washing over him.

“Impossible.” You teased. He shook his head in response, though you could feel him smiling.

Your eyelids felt heavy—it seemed as though there was a weight distributed across your entire body—but you still lay awake until he fell asleep, wanting to keep him company. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep against your warmth—he was able to find a piece of comfort despite the sounds of thunder echoing in his ears. In turn, it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep after he did, holding him tightly against your chest until the morning when he would wake up and attend to all he needed to.

#Stephen strange x reader #doctor strange #stephen strange #x reader #x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #x male reader #ptsd #panic attack

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child-of-the-nights · 1 year

Note

Stephen Strange denying his crush on you however the Cloak knows and try’s to get them together shenanigans ensue.

Sure thing! Hope you'll like it! ^^

Strange's cloak trying to get him to ask you out

Warnings: none

~Reader is gender neutral~

Stephen chose to close his heart after watching his love marry someone else. He thought that this would be for the best. He wouldn't have to experience another heartbreak if his heart wasn't accessible.

And yet, there he was, looking at you and feeling something in his chest. It felt strangely familiar, but he just shook his head. His gaze, however, could not leave you.

As usual, you were reading a book at the public library. That's how he met you; by chance. You two ended up talking about your favorite books, and you returned every week to do the same.

Except this week. Stephen couldn't shake his childish joy off, so he decided to leave without greeting you as he usually would. He rushed home and took a deep breath when he finally arrived.

Stephen's cloak felt something was wrong with him and quietly floated to him.

"No, I didn't meet them today." He shook his head once the cloak got right next to him. Stephen rolled his eyes as it tilted its 'head' slightly. "It's just a passing feeling. Nothing to make a fuss about." The cloak shook its head in displeasure. "I'm getting some rest. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

For the time being, the cloak did as Stephen asked, but oh, how its plans were going to enrage him.

His cloak decided to act for the first time when there was an attack in the city. Another magical beast appeared through a portal. Luckily, Stephen was there to save the day.

You just so happened to be there as well. Fortunately for you, Stephen had already sent the beast back before it could find your hiding place. When he saw you, he rushed to your side to check on you.

The cloak, on the other hand, pushed him right onto you. For a brief moment, it wrapped around you, giving you the impression that he was hugging you.

Stephen was speechless. He wanted to scream at his cloak, but he also wanted to apologize to you. However, you had other plans.

Stephen became even more speechless when you hugged him back. Then you rushed back to your job with a quick "thank you", leaving Stephen to deal with the cops.

Stephen was too stunned to yell at his cloak.

The cloak decided to act again when Stephen went for a nighttime stroll after visiting the Avengers Compound. He was worn out after a long day.

He sat down on a bench in a park to relax. He had no idea that this park was close to your house and that you were outside that night.

You decided to sit with Stephen for a while after finding him sitting on a bench.

Stephen didn't know what to say at first, but you were happy to tell him about your day. He soon found himself smiling as he listened to your ramblings. He even asked some questions just to show that he was paying attention.

You weren't sure how long you'd been sitting there, but you began to shiver. Stephen noticed this, but before he could react, his cloak flew on you.

"Thank you, Stephen. It's too kind of you." You gave him a friendly smile as you wrapped yourself in the cloak.

Stephen ended up keeping you company until you got home. You bid him good night and let the cloak float back to him.

The third time's the charm, right? In your case, yes.

You took the initiative this time. You ended up looking for him in his sanctum. Someone was kind enough to tell you that Stephen was there at the time.

He almost closed the door back up when he opened it for you. He wanted to stay in the sanctum just to get away from his thoughts. Of course, thoughts about you.

Now that you were there, he invited you in because he did not want to seem like an asshole. Stephen offered you some tea, which you gladly accepted.

Once you were sitting with him a room full of trinkets, you got to the reason why you were there.

"I stopped by today to ask you a question." you took a deep breath. "Would you like to go on a date with me, Stephen?"

The cloak slapped him on the back right away, earning him a puzzled look from you. As he turned to face you, Stephen realized he had to face his emotions.

"Sorry about that, my cloak has a life of it's own." he cleared his throat. "I'd love to go on a date with you."

Well, the cloak was happy. Not exactly what it had in mind, but close enough. Mission failed succesfully.

#stephen strange x reader #marvel x reader #stephen strange #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange #marvel #stephen strange x you #stephen strange headcanons #marvel headcanons #avengers x reader #avengers x gender neutral reader

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frostandflamesfanfic · 2 years

Text

July 19th. (Strange x Reader)

July 19th. (Rated T)

Request?: Kinda??? Inspired by this post by @sobeautifullyobsessed

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Spouse!Reader; Parent!Stephen Strange & Daughter!America Chavez

Word Count: 3.3k+

Warnings: Slight suggestive content, fluff. pure fluff, a few curse words -- SLIGHT MoM spoilers if you squint

Summary: When you confront your husband, Stephen Strange, about a mysterious date highlighted on the calendar, you find yourself in for a bit of a surprise. Why is he so flustered? To make matters even more interesting, does it has something to do with your unofficially-adopted daughter, America?

July 19th. It was a date circled and marked with two large exclamation marks on the calendar in bright red ink. You had asked your husband what the occasion was, though he claimed he didn’t remember with a quick shrug. It wasn’t an anniversary or a birthday. You were sure about that, at least. Those were marked in your personal calendar and Stephen never forgot most of the time.

When you first met your husband, the two of you had bumped into each other at the Columbia student library. You were both graduate students at the time. You were pursuing a Master’s in children’s education. For Stephen, it was his MD and PhD. There were numerous times that day you heard about his photographic memory. You weren’t sure who he was trying to impress then: you or his over-inflated ego.

That’s what made the entire situation so odd. Years ago, this man never forgot a single day of his life. Now here he was claiming not to remember a calendar event he added on without a doubt. What was it that he wasn’t telling you?

“Stephen,” you called around the Sanctum. You were sure he was still inside; he wasn’t due to visit Kamar-Taj until later this afternoon. Wong had made the decision to ban your husband from the area on the days America was scheduled for training. You couldn’t help but laugh at the memory of Stephen’s dejected face that day.

“I just want to make sure she’s doing alright,” he had argued. “She was having trouble with Astral Projection last week-”

“She is fine, Stephen.” The current Sorcerer Supreme rolled his eyes. “Everyone who starts training in the Mystic Arts has an adjustment period. You should understand, given your experience.”

“That’s exactly why I need to be there to help her-”

“No.”

There was a low hum of acknowledgement as the man of the hour came out of the library with a giant leatherbound book in hand. “What’s going on, sweetheart?” he asked, half-distracted by the ancient text.

“What’s really happening on the nineteenth?” You leaned against the doorframe to lock his appearance within your core memories. He looked more like a dad than anything in his oversized Columbia sweatshirt and sweatpants. It did things to you, needless to say. The Cloak of Levitation fluttered when it heard your voice. Obviously, the article of clothing knew what was going on, but couldn’t speak up.

“Uh, it was something really important,” your husband couldn’t get rid of the tinge of mystery present in his tone. Much to his chagrin, you had already latched on and began deducing a variety of guesses. “Honey…you’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?” you asked, still distracted by your observations.

“The thing where you try to figure out if I’m lying.”

You stepped back. “Oh, uh, sorry.” It always freaked Stephen out when you would try to tell a person’s life story in merely moments of knowing them. He often joked that you were in the wrong field, stating the police were always hiring. “What…what even did you say it was again?”

Your husband hesitated, clearly in an internal battle with himself. At first, he thought about coming up with some kind of excuse. Then he remembered you would never buy it. "Do you promise not to tell?" he asked begrudgingly. When you gave a quick nod, Stephen sighed and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. He handed it to you before letting his hand become distracted by the spell book in his possession.

GREENWICH JUNIOR HIGH INVITES YOU. . . TO THE FATHER-DAUGHTER DANCE. TICKETS ARE ON A FIRST-COME, FIRST SERVED, SO MAKE SURE TO RESERVE YOUR PLACE TODAY. PURCHASE THEM FOR $15 EACH AT THE OFFICE.

Your heart swelled for a moment as you read and re-read the short message over again. On top of her training at the Sanctum, both you and Stephen thought it would be a good idea to enroll America into the local high school. She deserved to have a real school experience. At first, your husband was against it (which you had a sneaking suspicion had something to do with the local spider-man), but he eventually gave in. Being a multidimensional traveler at such a young age meant she really had no true home. America needed to interact with people, she needed the education to succeed in the future.

Upon seeing the invitation, you couldn’t help but giggle. “You want to go to a father-daughter dance?” you asked between snorts, magic still present in your body.

Your husband shifted from his seat facing you to staring at the wall. “I didn’t say that.”

“You’re a horrible liar,” you stated plainly.

“Now that's just rude to point out.” Stephen waggled a shaky index finger at you before nervously turning his attention back to the ancient text.

A laugh bounced against the hallway. “We're married, Stephen,” you replied as you lifted your left hand into view. “It's part of the expectations. I’m only telling the truth.”

There was a sparkle of light as your engagement ring and wedding band created a kaleidoscope of rainbows throughout the room. The settings were simple, but you loved them regardless because Stephen had them made specially for you. Quite literally, in fact, as he had used the sacred spells of Alara to create the jewelry himself. After the two of you returned from being Blipped, you had decided to not to waste anymore time when life could be so short. You had thought it was the start of the craziest adventure the two of you ever faced, which was saying something after you had dissolved into dust for five years in order to save the world from a purple-faced genocidal maniac. Unfortunately, the universe had something much crazier in store for you in the form of a multiverse-traveling teenager with a plucky attitude and a jean jacket.

Your husband grunted in annoyance at your confession, although you could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He knew that he was a horrible liar, but he also knew how to push your buttons.

“Stephen,” you chided, lifting up additional paper attached to the invitation. “You already purchased the tickets. You’re too far gone at this point.”

“I didn’t want her to worry about the money,” he responded dejectedly. “She didn’t say anything about it, so I thought maybe she forgot, too…”

You walked over and ran a thumb against his cheek. Your eyes searched his before you pressed a kiss to his lips after a moment. “I knew it.”

Stephen raised an eyebrow in question.

“You, Stephen Strange, are just one big old softie.”

Your husband was not amused by the observation. “Stop that,” he said in a flat voice. “I love you, but you can be a pain in my ass sometimes. Do you know that?”

You simply shook your head fondly at the sorcerer before you. “Anything you say, teddy bear.”

“Don’t start doing that.” Stephen flicked his hands and the ancient textbook he was reading vanished back into the library. He brushed past you for only a moment before moving to pace in front of the fireplace.

“Aw, why not?” you teased. “You’re soft just like one.”

“Because I’m anxious and you’re not helping matters by teasing me.”

You reached out to rub his forearm as an act of comfort. “Why are you anxious? What could possibly go wrong giving a teenager a ticket to the dance?” That definitely didn’t come out right.

Stephen shot you a look before he continued his pacing. “Everything. I don't know if she'd even want me to be there.” It surprised you how nervous Stephen was about the entire prospect of going to a dance with America. As long as you had known the doctor-turned-sorcerer, he had always made his stance on children quite clear: he didn’t want any.

Then after the events of the Latina’s appearance, his demeanor started to change. There was a more caring and compassionate side to Stephen that you had rarely seen outside of special moments you’d manage to steal with him.He did his best to oversee her learning at the rebuilt Kamar-Taj. He offered advice when she struggled, providing a gruff, “well done,” at the end of every session.

“Well, has she even asked you about it?” The silence you received in return spoke volumes. So he hadn’t brought the subject up to her or vice versa. That would make sense, come to think about it, as you couldn’t recall hearing about such an event. “Do you want her to?”

There was another period of silence before a timid, “yes,” escaped Stephen’s throat.

Your heart practically melted in your chest like ice cream on a swelteringly hot summer day. “God, I swear I fall in love with you more and more every day,” you admitted before you kissed him again.

Stephen hummed in agreement as his arms wrapped around your waist.

“So when are you going to ask her?” you asked with a voice that was clearly muffled by the fabric of his sweatshirt.

“I... don't know,” he admitted again. “I don't even know if she's interested in going. Last week she was talking about how stupid school events were-”

“Probably because she never had these experiences before and is overwhelmed by it all! God, Stephen, give her some time to adjust!” You loved your husband, you really did. But sometimes he could be a real idiot. “Stephen, relax. What is the worst that could happen in this situation?”

“She rejects me.”

Leave it to Stephen Strange to list the most obvious and frustrating conversation in the history of the world. “Okay? It doesn’t mean she hates you.”

“But what if she does?” your husband had begun to wear holes into the main floor of the Sanctum Sanctorum. Since you didn’t need a surprise visit from one of the other sorcerers in the building during this time of stress, you walked over and held his arms from a short distance.

“Stephen, look at me.”

The man in front of you avoided your gaze as long as possible before his blue-green eyes flickered over yours. “What?” he asked half-heartedly.

“You need to relax,” you gently ran your hands up and down his arms. The Cloak around his shoulders fluttered in agreement, causing you to smile.

“I can’t relax,” Stephen argued. “I don’t relax.”

A smug smile flittered against your lips. “I can think of a few times you’ve been able to relax.” God, flirting really wasn’t your strong suit, was it? “How about this: if you ask her and she says no, I'll help you relax.”

The response was instantaneous: “Deal.”

You led him over to the sofa by the fireplace, hand clasped tightly in his. After the two of you sat down, you gave his hand a gentle squeeze and pressed a kiss to his lips. “You know,” you said with a lower voice, “even if she says yes- and you're good- maybe I'll help you relax then, too.”

Stephen smirked in return. “I like that, too.” You sat in silence for a moment, staring at the crackling fire in front of you. “It’s just,” he started to admit, “if I ask her, I don’t want to seem like I’m not . . .”

“Like you’re not…what?” you gently pressed as he hesitated.

Your husband sighed dejectedly. “...cool.”

You couldn’t help another laugh. This time, it stemmed from your midsection in a loud, obnoxious tone. “Oh, oh god-” you got out between chortles.

“Nice to know that brings you joy, honey.”

“Stephen,” you wiped a few stray tears that had sprung to your eyes. “Honey, you’re a frickin superhero. You’re a wizard-”

“Sorcerer.”

“Sorcerer, right. You can summon magic at will, you saved her life when other versions of you had ultimately tried to kill her.” You crossed your arms against your chest. “I would say that makes you pretty damn cool. So grow a pair and just ask her, why don’t you?”

Just as your husband was about to retort, you were interrupted by the distraction of orange sparks in the living room. It took a few minutes before a clear circular portal made an appearance, revealing the young traveler lugging a backpack on her shoulder. It was one of the first times America had been able to use her sling ring. You glanced at Stephen, who looked more than impressed by her progress, to see if you should celebrate the milestone. Given the fact she made a beeline to the kitchen, the two of you figured it was best to let it go.

“What,” you tried to joke, “did Wong not feed you?”

“Nope.” America’s voice carried in from the kitchen across the hall. There was a clanging of glass jars and bottles as she navigated her way through the fridge. “Do we have any pizza left?”

“Top shelf on the left,” Stephen called back in a bored tone. Somehow in the process of the chaos, he had summoned his ancient textbook. That man had a stress-reading habit. The sight caused you to shake your head in frustration and groan as you fell into his lap. “. . .do you mind?” your husband asked while he looked down at you in amusement.

“Thanks!” A few moments later, the young student made her way back into the living room, juice box and pizza in hand with a few bites taken out of it. She flopped into the armchair across from the sofa, relishing in the taste of her cold Italian treat. Upon noticing your position, she waved the slice of pizza between you and Stephen. “What’s going on with you two?”

“Nothing,” Stephen was quick to respond as you said, “adult things.”

The child wrinkled her nose and narrowed her eyes ever-so-slightly as she leaned forward. She was analyzing you both, a habit she had unfortunately picked up from you. You could feel Stephen twitch underneath your form. He was clearly afraid that America was about to determine his plans for the dance. After a minute long stare down, the young girl leaned back in the chair and took another bite of pizza. “Just don't do it in the laundry room. Again.”

A coughing fit wreaked havoc on your throat as you felt yourself choke on spit. The look on Stephen’s face showed he was equally surprised. “We- we were just grabbing detergent,” you responded, clearly flustered.

“You were not reaching for the cabinets,” the teenager across from you said with a shake of her head. “You were reaching for his-”

“All right!” Stephen drew out the syllables and snapped his book shut, causing you to flinch and sit up.

“She’s growing up too fast, Stephen,” you said with a dramatic gasp. “She’s going to college tomorrow, getting married next week. We’ll be empty nesters by the end of the month. Quick, give me another baby.”

Your husband merely shook his head at you. “Sometimes I wonder why I married you,” he admitted.

“Because you fell for my immaculate beauty and quick-witted charm.”

“Yeah. . .I’m sure that’s it.” Stephen smirked at you, which was replaced with confused annoyance by the sound of America’s juice box being emptied.

You gaped at him. “Rude!”

“That’s just honesty, darling.” He held up a shaky hand to reveal his ring, clearly mocking your earlier gesture.

“Why you little-” you started but sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. “Forget it. How were your lessons today, America?”

The teenager shrugged. “Boring. We learned how to turn elements into useful objects, so that was cool, I guess.”

You nodded. “How about school? Anything interesting coming up?”

“Uh,” America took the opportunity to squint up at the ceiling. “There is this dance coming up.”

“Oh, really?” you hoped your excitement wasn’t too obvious. You could see Stephen stiffen in your peripheral vision. “That sounds fun.”

“Yeah,” America nodded slowly, fingers absentmindedly toying with the sling ring on her opposite hand. “It’s a father-daughter dance, though. All the other girls are going. Even Tasha, who’s dad is like, never around. I’m pretty sure he��s cheating on her mom with his secretary.”

“Really?” You not-so-subtly nudged Stephen’s leg with yours.

Taking the hint, Stephen cleared his throat. “Uh, America,” he started. “I, uh, I know you don’t have your moms here right…right now. And I, uh, I know I can’t replace them- not that I’m trying to at all! I just, uh, wanted you to know that if…uh, if you did want to go to the dance…” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I would be more than happy to take you. Now, I know I’m not your dad-”

“You. . .you would do that?” America’s voice was small and quiet. You had never heard her sound like this before. Ever since she had crossed paths with Stephen, America had been anything but quiet.

“Yes,” Stephen said with a sincere nod. “Of course.”

America’s voice cracked as she asked the next question. The poor girl looked to be on the verge of tears. “W-why?”

Your husband cleared his throat again. “Um, well,” he tilted his head toward her, “America, I know. . .I know what it’s like to feel like you’ve lost your family – to think that you’re entirely alone. But I also know what it’s like to find another family, to let yourself be loved and to love others.” His hand snaked its way over to intertwine with your own. “I just don’t want you to feel like you’re alone, America, because you’re not. You have me, Wong, all of us here at the Sanctum.”

By the time Stephen had finished with his little speech, you felt yourself getting a little misty-eyed. Being open and vulnerable was never something Stephen was known for. It was truly something to hear him express himself, especially with someone so young. You really did find yourself falling further and further in love with the dark haired man next to you.

Without another word, America got up and launched herself into Stephen’s arms. You watched with a small, sad smile as she shook in the hug. Her lips were moving, but you couldn’t hear what she was saying. You gave them their space, scooting to the other edge of the sofa. A few moments later, America stepped away from her mentor and beamed. “I guess I need to find something to wear,” she remarked.

“Oh, I can help you with that!” you volunteered. “I have a few things in my closet you might like. Why don’t you head upstairs and we can go find something? I’ll be right there.”

The offer appeared to please the young girl as she all but skipped up the stairs. When you turned back to your husband, you noticed he had a grin plastered against his face that was fit to beat the band. “What’s up with you?” you asked with a smile. “What did she say?”

Stephen looked at you proudly before he kissed you with a bit of passion. As you broke apart, he leaned his forehead against yours and whispered, “she said, ‘thanks, dad.’”

“Aw, look at you smiling,” you teased. “I told you; you’re a great big softie.”

“Oh, stop it,” Stephen said firmly, but his eyes were playful. “Or else.”

“Or else what?”

“Or else I’ll kiss you senseless.”

“Oh no, the horror of being appreciated by my husband,” you giggled.

Stephen raised an eyebrow. “Keep this up and I’ll do more than just kiss you senseless,” he spoke before kissing you again.

“Mm, do you promise?” Your heart swelled three sizes as you got up and took the Sanctum stairs two at a time. Stephen was right. There would be times that you felt alone, but it was important to remember everyone in your life that did care. For you, it was your husband and unofficial young ward. The three of you made the most chaotic (and sarcastic) little family, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

====================

Author's Note: Oh my god, this now has to be my favorite fic that I have ever written. I enjoyed putting this together SO much. Shoutout to my friend mischief-and-mercy on AO3 for helping me out with some of the dialogue in the fic. It was meant to be a super short fic, but it kind of got away from me...again.

To ohsobeautifullyobsessed, I blame and thank you for setting my brain on this path. I accept this as a headcanon and love Parent!Stephen with all of my heart. I meant to get this out for you yesterday, but life got in the way. Hope you enjoyed it :D

I will get back to my other requests as soon as possible. I do have another fic scheduled to be posted on June 1st. It has to do with Stephen and a certain prideful month... so stay tuned, little sparks!

Until then, make sure to leave a comment, a heart, and a reblog to help me out with the Tumblr algorithm. It also really helps me see what types of stories you all like to see on my blog! Until next time, loves!

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lucywrites02 · 2 years

Text

Between the lines

Main Masterlist

A/N: It's- a me! The writer who finally posts something! It's my first one shot that is over 10k and I've worked on it for weeks. It was a challenge, but I had a lot of fun and I'm really proud of it. This story is messy and maybe some of you won't like the ending, but I wrote it for myself and I like it. if you find this story nice tho it would be amazing if you rebloged it or left a comment :3 now to the story!!!!

Pairing: Stephen Strange x gn! Reader

Word count: 10.5k

Warnings: slow burn, mention of a shitty ex, talk about therapy, the reader has mixed feelings about therapy because of their shitty ex, working too much, anxiety attack, not taking meds (I hope I mentioned everything, but if i missed something please let me know!) Probably some grammar mistakes

Summary: After becoming the sorcerer supreme Stephen gets the access to the ancient one's private library full of ancient tomes in languages the doctor hasn't even heard of. Luckily Wong's childhood friend is willing to help and becomes their personal translator.

“I’m so glad you could make it.” Wong greeted you with a wide smile- you didn’t even step into the building when the man picked you up, hugging you tightly. Oh how you missed his hugs! “You have no idea how happy I am that you came.” The librarian let you go and sighed heavily. He embraced you one more time before he took your bags and gestured you to walk in.

You looked around, mesmerised. It was quite a while since you’ve last been to the New York sanctum and even though nothing really changed it still felt foreign. The stairs looked exactly how they used to, but the carpet looked a bit more red than you remember it. Did they clean this old thing or bought a new one? And then there was that old foyer where you used to spend most of your nights, reading some random fantasy novels you found in the nearest library. It was funny how you always insisted on reading those books instead of ancient tomes about real magic. You smiled, remembering that time the former guardian of this building scolded you for sitting too close to the fire and accidentally burning half a page of your book. Thankfully it was no book about sorcery- otherwise you would already be dead because Wong would definitely kick your ass for that. This guy was basically your family but he wouldn’t hesitate to make you pay for damaging something valuable.

“I put your bags in your room.” Your friend’s voice pulled you out of your transe, but you couldn’t stop smiling. You really missed this place. Turning around, your eye caught a glimpse of the closing portal behind your favourite sorcerer. “Tea?”

“Yes, please!” You said and followed Wong to the kitchen, walking with that happy jump to your steps, already excited to spend some time with your friend. When you were still a sorcerer, tea time with Wong always meant exchanging gossip- it was your favourite time of the day. And now you guys had a lot to talk about. “Oh man,” you exhaled and sat down on an old wooden chair right next to the kitchen island, “I missed your tea soooo much.” you giggled and breathed in the smell of your favourite flavour. “Did you buy this tea for me? You know I love it.”

“I actually did it myself.” The man said, proudly and poured your beverage to a ceramic cup from his favourite set. You smiled upon seeing the mugs you got him for his birthday a few years ago. Wong said it was his most valuable possession. “I picked up gardening last year and then decided to experiment with tea. I hope you like it.”

“Gardening? That’s interesting. You didn't mention it at all.” you took a sip and literally melted in your chair. Is this how heaven felt like? “Wow, this is amazing!” you took another sip and closed your eyes, cherishing the taste it left on your tongue. “And you did it yourself?”

“I did.” The librarian puffed his chest like a proud peacock, making you smile again. “And there’s a lot I have to tell you so buckle up- I have a lot of tea to spill.” Wong said, looking at you and expecting a laugh at his oh so genius pun. You were trying to look unamused, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but you didn’t care to be honest. Yes, that pun was terrible, but still funny! You wouldn’t apologise for laughing at your friend’s corny joke.

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“This is the last time I went to that store alone.” Stephen spoke into the empty air- his voice echoed through the hall with no one around to listen to his whining. The sorcerer supreme sighed, closing the door to the sanctum with his foot and then headed to the kitchen to unpack all those bags. The list Wong gave Stephen was longer than usual and the amount of food the man purchased would last for him and Wong for a whole month. The librarian insisted that his colleague should go to this very specific store at the other side of the city- which Stephen found quite weird but when he questioned it, Wong went on a long rant, explaining to him that they had your favourite kind of noodles and that their spices were top tier. Stephen had never met you, but he could see how much Wong respected you. You were obviously someone very important, but were you worth taking the train and two buses filled with annoying people just to get all those groceries that could be bought from the farmer’s market three blocks away from the sanctum? Stephen didn’t think so.

As he neared the kitchen, the sorcerer could hear someone talking. One of the voices belonged to Wong- Stephen was sure of that- but the other one he had never heard before. Have you already arrived? The doctor stopped in his tracks and sighed when he realised that he wasn’t exactly looking like the most important sorcerer at the moment. What kind of a first impression was this going to be? Would you judge his casual outfit or pay it no mind? It was hard to tell since Wong refused to tell Stephen anything about you other than the fact that you could translate all of the books for him. He didn’t even get your backstory or anything about you as a person. Wong obviously liked you, otherwise he would never have invited you to the sanctum, but the doctor didn’t know what to expect from you. He knew nothing about you. Stephen hated not knowing.

Lost in thought, he didn’t even notice when the hallway’s wooden floor beneath his feet changed to the turquoise kitchen teals.

“Speak of the devil and he will bring you groceries.” The librarian spoke, greeting his fellow sorcerer as he walked into the room.

The doctor’s eyes fell on the person sitting on the counter, face hidden behind the ceramic mug- Stephen was pretty sure that the dish was supposed to keep your smile hidden. So much for a decent first impression. Thanks to Wong.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

You looked at the man who just walked in- bags full of food in his hands. Wong has told you plenty about the new sorcerer supreme, but you didn’t expect to see someone in their late 30s to be the most important sorcerer on earth. You knew he was in his late 30s because your friend has mentioned it once, but the grey in his hair made Doctor Strange look a bit older.

Awkwardly hopping off the counter you put your empty mug aside and walked towards the sorcerer supreme. “Let me help you with those.” You said, pointing at the bags. They were probably really heavy. You didn’t wait for a response and took some stuff in your own hands. “Wong, do you need an invitation or something?” You called, putting the groceries on the kitchen island.

Stephen huffed- almost giggled- when he saw how quickly Wong stood up and took the remaining bags from him. He might not have made a good entrance, but you have for sure impressed him. And you seemed like a really friendly person, too.

“Where are my manners!” You gasped, realising that this guy probably didn’t even know your name and you were so freely opening his cupboards and stuffing them with food. It must have looked weird to him. Leaving Wong to unpack the rest by himself, you walked over to Stephen the second time this day, extending your hand to properly greet him. “It’s an honour to meet you, Doctor Strange.” You heard a lot about this man- the best neurosurgeon in the US, maybe even the world, who graduated young with 5 phDs and then became the sorcerer supreme within a few months of studying magic. It was impressive. You admired him in a way. Wong spoke of him highly as well. Although he did mention the doctor’s arrogance and his ‘dumbassery’ as your friend called it.

Stephen watched your hand move up and then stop midair between your bodies. You wanted to shake hands….

He didn’t have his gloves! What if you stared at them? Even unintentionally. He couldn’t let you see his hands without the gloves on. Maybe he should stop worrying about them so much. Stephen has been trying to put an end to his overthinking but it was harder than he thought. You didn’t seem like a judgy person though.

Before he could make a decision you already pulled your hand away. He didn’t even notice that his own moved behind his back- hiding from your eyes.

“Wong has told me plenty about you.” You smiled, knowing perfectly well that your friend didn’t want his colleague to know about that. “I’m glad I could finally meet you.”

“I’m grateful you decided to help us out.” Stephen spoke, not really knowing what he should say to you. He didn’t know you at all, meanwhile you seemed to know him pretty well. “Wong said you specialise in translating ancient languages.”

“That’s right! I have translated most of the books from the library in Kamar-Taj and a great amount of books from the London Sanctum.” You announced proudly.

“You always asked for those books when you were studying. You should thank our guest for providing your monolingual brain with all that knowledge.” Wong called as he put the last products in the fridge. The librarian was obviously not interested in your awkward ‘get to know each other’ conversation and would rather go back to gossiping with you about some of the masters from Hong Kong. He didn’t even get to the part where Master Emily was having an affair with Master Min and that they got married in secret two weeks ago.

“It was all you?” Stephen asked, surprised. During his stay in Kamar-Taj the doctor had read dozens of books- in the beginning of his journey with sorcery said books were mostly in English, but once he memorised them he started reading the versions of those books in the original languages. It helped him learn how to read sanskrit in two weeks. “I must say I’m impressed. They proved to be very helpful.”

“I’m happy to hear that.” You couldn’t stop smiling- it was rare to hear people praising you and you always got excited when that happened. “How many books do you have for me, Doctor?”

“Oh, yes, please follow me.” Before he could leave, Stephen turned around to Wong, “is it my turn or your turn to make dinner tonight?”

“It’s your turn.” The librarian spoke as he moved to exit the kitchen and walk to his own room.

It was Wong’s turn.

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“20 books?” You said, looking at the old tomes in Stephen’s office.

“I know it's a lot and I understand if you don’t want to do all of that-”

“You want them translated into English, right?” You asked and picked up the first book from the enormous pile, laying on the sorcerer’s desk.

“Yes, of course.” the sorcerer paced awkwardly around his room and watched as you went through the master’s guide to astral projection in mirror dimension. Was it embarrassing that the sorcerer supreme needed assistance to read books? The Ancient One didn’t need a translator and most of the Masters were fluent in more than one language. Stephen made a mental note to download duolingo. But did they teach Hebrew from two thousand years ago?

“Would you like me to translate it into any other languages?”

“How many do you know?” The doctor asked, curious.

“7 if we only count the old ones.” You answered and picked up another book, carefully inspecting its spine. Maybe if you find the time you will restore some of them as well.

“And if we count the new ones?”

“24.”

“How long will it take you to translate them?” Stephen changed the subject, feeling quite intimidated by your skills. He wouldn’t tell this to anyone, but last night he really needed to translate some notes and used Google to do it. Needless to say the spell was a disaster and the doctor swore to never use google translate for spells ever again. Even if he’s desperate.

Your eyes scanned the heavy tomes in front of you once more while your brain tried to calculate the amount of work you were about to begin.

“Two months. Maybe three.” You answered, putting your hands into the pockets of your black zip up hoodie. “I can start tonight.”

“Three months per book or-”

“All of them. I need to print the pages and then bind them into a new book and that will also take some time- hence three months.” You explained, knowing perfectly well that you would probably do it in two months. That’s if you were able to hide from Wong that you worked using your astral form in your sleep. He would never let you hear the end of it if he found out. “Now let’s talk about payment.” You walked around the desk and sat down at a little armchair in the corner.

Stephen stood frozen in place, watching you making yourself comfortable. He felt embarrassed because he didn’t take into consideration that you would want money for your services. Now that he thought of it he felt stupid for not thinking about it. The sorcerer’s hand wandered up his neck, scratching the skin on his nape as if that would help him come up with a solution.

“Oh dear, I was just kidding!” You laughed, covering your mouth with your palm. “I don’t want your money, Doctor.”

Those words made Stephen breathe out in relief. “Are you sure? You said it will take you three months. It wouldn’t be fair of me to expect you to do this for free.” Yes, Stephen didn’t have money, but the thought of you getting nothing in return for your hard work rubbed him the wrong way.

“You really don’t need to worry about money, Doctor.” You stood up and walked up to the pile of books again, your fingers tracing the spines as you continued- “I want to do this for the sanctum. Besides you letting me stay here is already enough. Those books are for the sorcerer supreme only and I’m honoured that you’re entrusting me with them even though we don’t know each other.”

“I’m happy to hear that because we are broke.” Stephen said, causing you to laugh again. You were a very nice person and Stephen liked your personality a lot. Your aura was friendly and kind which was something this place really needed. “I guess that means you’re hired!” The sorcerer joked.

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“Please call me Stephen.”

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Rubbing your eyes, you leaned back in your chair. A little desk lamp and your laptop were the only sources of light in the library. You couldn’t tell how late it was but you knew you should stop and call it a day. In the first two weeks of your stay in New York you have already done more than you expected. If you kept up that pace you would be done in less than two months, but working all day since sunrise and then writing in your astral form all night wasn’t healthy. Plus Wong started to be suspicious and took your sling ring so astral projecting was off the table for a while.

As much as you loved peace and quiet, the sounds of New York’s nightlife made you a bit nostalgic. Honking of a car, laughter of tourists- things like that would annoy most people, especially at this hour, but you missed it. You missed this city. Maybe once you were done with your work in the sanctum you would stay for a bit longer. Just because. And to be completely honest you really missed hanging out with Wong. It felt like a family reunion and you loved it. You didn’t know how much you needed this until now. It felt so good to be with people who genuinely cared about you and wanted you around. You haven’t felt wanted ever since your failed relationship a year ago. It was a very disappointing experience that damaged your confidence, but thankfully Wong was there to help you pick up the broken pieces like a good friend. Nights like this one always send your mind in all the wrong places.

“Can’t sleep?” Stephen’s voice called from the entrance, making you jump in your chair. Your hand rested on your chest, feeling the rapid beat of your heart caused by the person standing in the doorway. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” He smiled apologetically and put some papers on the desk next to yours. “Isn’t it a bit too late for that?” The doctor pointed at the white screen of your laptop with a cup of tea in his hand.

“I was actually going to take a break.” You announced with a yawn and stretched your arms over your head so hard your whole body shook. “I don’t have much left though and I could always rest after it’s done.”

The sorcerer hummed, looking at your screen. “You want to tell me that you have almost translated the whole book?” His eyes moved between the laptop, your notes and the heavy tome laying on the desk.

“Yes?”

“600 pages in less than two weeks?” Stephen took a sip of his already cold tea, cringing at the bitter taste.

“I'm actually finishing the second book.” You said, moving your arms around in hope it would ease the pain in your back. “Impressive, I know.” You joked, winking at the man sitting next to you.

“It actually is quite impressive.”

“My secret is Wong's black tea 5 times a day with three sugars and astral projection after midnight.” Stephen’s laugh echoed through the empty library, making you smile. The two of you didn’t spend much time together- he had his duties as sorcerer supreme and you were working on your translations. Neither of you wanted to disturb the other one. The only conversations you had so far were the ones around the dinner table with Wong. It was nice, but you wished you had more time to get to know Stephen. “Although he confiscated my sling ring so I can’t do that anymore.”

“It’s not healthy to use your astral form too often.” The man said, knowing he sounded like a hypocrite, but you didn’t have to know it. “Trust me, I’m a doctor.”

“Didn’t you use it every night back in Kamar- Taj to read?” You asked, amused by the look on Stephen's face.

“So he told you.”

“Wong tells me everything.” You grinned, narrowing your eyes playfully.

"Everything?" The doctor asked in a tone that sounded more like a dare. You weren't expecting the new sorcerer supreme to be such a chill person and you were glad that he liked to mess around sometimes. It made your stay at the sanctum a lot more fun than you thought it would be.

"Everything, including that one time you accidentally turned a student into a cat because you didn't read the spell correctly." You whispered, slowly gathering all of your notes and closing your laptop. You knew you wouldn't get anything else done that night. "But just so you know- Wong speaks very highly of you. He enjoys sharing those funny stories with me though."

"Good to know," Stephen grinned, feeling quite relieved that his colleague- friend- respects him beyond his occasional arrogance. "He has never told me anything about you before though." He said, sounding almost disappointed. Maybe Stephen and Wong weren't that close yet. They tend to talk about other students and masters, but never about their lives outside of the sorcery world. They should definitely change that.

"Is there anything you'd like to know, Doctor?" You stood up to throw away the pieces of paper that you didn't need anymore and stretched your legs a bit. It felt so good to move around like that after a whole day of sitting.

"It would be nice to get to know you better, but I think it's quite late and we both should be sleeping." The man said and yawned which made you yawn, too. Yeah, it was really late.

"I think you're right. I can barely keep my eyes open, let alone hold a conversation." Looking down at the desk you decided to clean the rest tomorrow. It wasn't going to run away.

"You could take a free day tomorrow and accompany me to London." Stephen suggested. You were a really nice person and the sorcerer liked your friendly spirit. You liked to joke around- even with Wong- and Stephen would lie if he said that he didn't wish for you to stay longer. He didn't feel so lonely with you around. Yes, you didn't talk much but he knew that you were always in the library with Wong and it made this place less…. lonely.

"I would like that! I haven't been to London in ages."

"Let me walk you to your door." The Doctor said, offering you his arm with a playful little bow.

The two of you stayed silent while you walked- neither of you had enough energy to talk anymore. The sound of your synchronised steps echoed through the empty halls. The distance from the library to your bedroom wasn't too long but it felt like eternity to get there. A free day was probably a good idea- you could feel the effects of your constant work and seriously needed a day to yourself.

The only words spoken between you were the whispered goodnights and the sanctum was dead silent again.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

"You want to tell me that one day you just went on a walk and accidentally walked into the sanctum in Hong Kong?" Stephen asked, taking a bite of his sandwich.

The two of you decided to have brunch in a little cafe near the park- for you it was more like breakfast, but there was a 6 hour difference between NYC and London. The place was lovely and the chilly weather of early spring in England combined with the beautiful scenery of trees and the river made you smile.

You took a sip of your tea and smiled at the memory.

"I was a kid and didn't know I wasn't allowed there." You explained, trying to make sense of your actions from the past. "I was 8 and got bored so my grandmother told me to go play with other kids, but I got lost on my way to the playground and ended up in the sanctum." Stephen watched you carefully which meant he was really interested in the story. He rested his cheek on his hand and you continued, " I got really scared because I realised that I wasn't supposed to be there and when someone tried to talk to me I ran and hid in the library-" you had to laugh at that. Little you were terrified, but the older you found the story hilarious. "Wong found me an hour later crying under the desk and then walked me home."

"That's an adventure." The doctor laughed- the wrinkles under his eyes made themselves more prominent. It suited him. Happiness suited him.

"My grandma then made cookies and told me to give them to the nice man who got me back home." You smiled and took another sip of your drink. "And then I just kept coming there whenever I had time and hung out with Wong in the library. He made me his apprentice- although he was still just a student himself. I insisted and he couldn't get rid of me."

"Really?" The sorcerer would love to see the little you annoying Wong so much he had to make you his apprentice to shut you up.

"No, he actually asked if I wanted to study under him."

"Did you say yes?" A sudden blow of cold wind made the sorcerer shiver, but he didn't pay much attention to it. Talking with you felt so natural and it felt like you've been friends forever. It was nice to have this connection with someone. Stephen really needed to feel normal every once in a while and sitting with you outside of a cafe on a chilly afternoon in London made him feel normal.

"Take a guess, doctor."

"Right, that was a stupid question." Strange grinned, hiding his face in the hoodie he wore to shield himself from the wind. Stephen could tell you he wanted to go inside, but you seemed to enjoy the chilly weather. He wouldn't die if the wind picked up every now and then.

"There are no stupid questions." You said, playing with the remains of your tea that were too cold to enjoy anymore.

"I like your mindset, but as someone who worked in medicine for years I can tell you that some people ask very stupid questions."

"I can only imagine."

"So why is it that I have never met you before. I was in Kamar-Taj for a very long time and I visit other sanctums whenever I need to, which is pretty often." The doctor was curious how he managed to not see you even once during his stay in all those places.

"Oh, I left the sorcery world when I was older because I got into a university in Scotland. I still kept in touch with Wong and some other masters though. I even visited New York last year but it was only for the weekend and you weren't there."

"What did you study?"

"You will never believe when I tell you." You wiggled your eyebrows with a smirk on your face.

"Surprise me." Steohen said, already suspecting what your answer was going to be.

"I studied ancient languages and became a translator for an archeology centre in Greece when I graduated." You didn’t mention to him that you quit working in said centre after one of your colleagues broke your heart into a million pieces and walked all over it. He didn’t have to know about your failed romances. At least not yet.

"No way." The doctor fake gasped causing you to laugh again.

"Shocking, I know."

"I would have never expected it." He kept playing along, amused by your silly shenanigans. "Why languages? Was it like your passion or a hobby?" He asked, coming back to his more serious self.

"I always learned fast- I took Latin in school and then thought it would be fun to learn similar languages so my mom signed me up for French classes, I learned Spanish at home because I was tired of French and then took Swedish to change things a bit. Then there was Japanese, Korean and Hindu. And then when I started spending more time in Kamar-Taj I thought it would be very fun to be fluent in languages no one speaks anymore. It all just came natural to me. I was good at it so I decided to do it for a living." You explained; your gaze getting lost in the picture of the clouds changing their shapes. Taking a deep breath you tried to think of a good topic of conversation, but Stephen beat you to it and spoke again.

"That's really interesting. Your brain is fascinating."

"My brain you say?" You remembered that he used to be a doctor from what Wong told you, but you didn't know what kind.

"I mean- you possess so much knowledge I can only imagine how amazing your neural connections must be." Stephen continued, his hands flying around as the words left his mouth.

"That is the strangest compliment I have ever gotten- I love it." You put your hand on your chest, trying to show your gratitude. "Pun not intended."

Your afternoon was filled with fluid conversations that seemed to have no end. Stephen asked about your family, friends, hobbies. Being your polite self you asked them the same questions and found things that Wong didn't tell you.

For example, the sorcerer supreme used to play piano and was pretty good at it. His love for music extended farther than just listening to sounds- he also liked to create them. The doctor hid it well, but you could see the sadness in his eyes when he told you about his musical skills. It was because of his hands- that was for sure. They wandered down under the table, hiding from your eyes as he spoke about his passions. You had scars of your own- you understood the struggle.

But it was still painful to see- ever since you met him Stephen was nothing but confident in everything he did. Sometimes he walked the thin line between confidence and arrogance, but it was a part of his charm. He never was an asshole- not to you, not to Wong. Not even to that kid who tried to put graffiti on the sanctum's walls two days ago. At the end of the day Stephen- although still very much powerful- was just a man. A human being with insecurities.

"Did you play the banjo as well?" You asked resting your chin on your fist- elbows on the table.

"Just because I'm from Nebraska doesn't mean I know how to play the banjo." Stephen defended himself, throwing his hands in the air dramatically.

"Answer my question, Stephen." You demented, pointing a finger at him and trying to hold in your laughter. Stephen's lips formed a thin line. The red on his cheeks became more prominent- maybe it was the cold.

"Yes." The sorcerer mumbled.

"What was that?"

"I won't repeat myself."

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

You’ve been in the New York sanctum for over a month now and it was the first time ever that all of you were in the library at the same time. Right after your morning tea the three of you headed there to do your own things- you wanted to finish translating the book on interdimensional herbs, Wong was going to fix a spine of his book of shadows meanwhile Stephen was trying to upgrade some spell. It was quiet, but very cosy. Almost domestic if you dared say that.

Speaking of Stephen- ever since that day in London you became pretty good friends. He talked to you more, made sure you took breaks when working. Sometimes he would invite you to go grocery shopping with him and Wong. Yeah, it was really domestic. You never expected the sorcerer supreme to be so friendly towards you, but you were glad he proved you wrong. You were happy to have a friend like him. This place really felt like home when Wong and Stephen were there with you. You really felt wanted.

Wong was basically family to you and you always felt wanted around him, but it really surprised you how hard Stephen was trying to make you feel at home. Making your favourite food for dinner, taking you on walks. One time you and the doctor were talking about movies and he even suggested a movie night. You accidentally fell asleep on his shoulder that time and Wong took a photo of it. It looked pretty cute- you had to admit that. But the more you looked at that polaroid- or thought about everything you did with Stephen- you realised that there might be something more between the two of you than friendship.

You saw each other every day- talked every day- for over a month now. Just a month but it felt like years. It scared you a bit. How quickly you were developing a crush on this man. And it wasn’t like you didn’t want to get involved with him romantically- Stephen was a great person. But your last relationship left a hole in your heart and even though a lot of time had passed since that failed romance you were still weary when it came to dating. Especially if the person of your interest was the most powerful sorcerer that you have met only a month ago! Plus you were literally working for this man.

It was a shame that you had to leave so soon. After you got your sling ring back you continued to work 24/7, translating 15 books in two weeks which was your new record. Wong had volunteered to book-bind a few pages, making your job even easier. Meaning that you would be done even faster. To be honest you didn’t want to go back to your job in ‘real life’. Yes, you loved it, but you didn’t realise how much you missed the world of sorcery until now.

You were torn between wanting to be a sorcerer again and having a normal life. Your fingers stopped typing as your eyes stared at the bright screen of your laptop- not really focusing on anything. The sound of your keyboard had been the only thing filling the silence. Now the air in the room was dead and empty. Looking around you watched as the two men worked on their own things and decided to take a short break- make some tea for the boys, stretch, think about your future. Stuff like that. And so you left quietly, knowing that neither of them probably even noticed that you were gone.

Little did you know that one of your friends was watching you all the time. Wong sensed that something wasn't right. The moment you picked up another book to translate your mood shifted. It was odd and Wong didn’t like seeing you like this.

“SHIT!” you shrieked as you turned around and saw the librarian, standing in the kitchen doorway. “I could have dropped the kettle!”

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” The man apologised and sat down at the table, trying to figure out how to even start this conversation with you. Deciding it would be easier to just rip the bandaid off he spoke again. “You seem sad today. Is everything alright?”

The question surprised you. “I didn’t think you’d notice.” You didn’t disagree. You didn’t see the point in hiding your feelings and you had always trusted Wong. You could tell him everything without the fear of being judged.

“I wanted to get this job done as quickly as possible-” you said, fiddling with the kettle in your hands. “And now that I'm almost done I don’t think I want to leave.”

“Then stay.” He smiled at the thought of you living in the sanctum again. This last month reminded Wong of the good old days when you used to share a house and do all kinds of stuff together from practising spells to folding laundry.

“Do you think Stephen would allow it?” you asked, shyly. The doctor was in charge of the sanctum after all so it all depended on him and his decision.

“He adores you! Of course he would allow it.” The librarian rolled his eyes when he said the word ‘adore’ which made your face feel a little bit warmer for some reason. “Just ask him about it. He will be thrilled to hear that you’re staying.”

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

Another week passed and you still haven’t asked Stephen. Wong’s words made you rethink some things and reflect on everything that happened in the last month. Closing the book you’ve been working on for the past two days you realised that there’s only one of them left.

Your friend’s words played in your brain like a broken record.

‘He adores you’

You didn’t want that.

Okay, maybe you did, but you weren’t ready for that yet. You weren’t ready to get your heart broken again. Besides you weren’t planning on staying any longer than necessary so why even worry about it?

Laying on your bed, you stared at the white ceiling, trying to come up with a solution to your- not so little- problem when a knock on your door pulled you out of your head.

“Hi.” Stephen whispered- his head peeking from behind the door. “I saw the light in your room was still on and wanted to check on you.” The sorcerer invited himself in and leaned his shoulder on the wall.

Your eyes fell on the jar of cookies he was holding in his hands. Stephen’s gaze followed yours and the doctor smirked.

“I was going to eat them alone, but since I’m already here would you like one?” He said, taking a step forward and sitting at the edge of your bed. You moved, too- your back straight against the headboard. It created more distance between you which wasn’t really intentional, but you were glad that there was a bit more space. Of course you would love nothing more than to get closer to Stephen, but it was all happening so quickly. And you hated yourself for feeling that way.

“So…” The jar lid popped open and your friend took two cookies out of it, handing you one with a silent question. You took it without thinking twice; your fingers brushed and a shiver went down your spine. “You couldn’t sleep again?”

You signed, taking a bite and not really caring about the crumbs on your sheets.

“Not really.” You managed to say between the bites. Stephen observed you carefully- almost like he was studying your face and all your movements. You had plenty of conversations that started in this exact way. Usually you would talk the night away, but you weren’t in the mood to talk for so long.

“Is everything alright?” The sorcerer’s voice echoed through the room- it was deep and very soft. You loved listening to him talk, not only because you liked how his voice sounded, but also because he was always very nice to you when you two talked.

“Why shouldn’t it be?” You raised your brow, hugging your knees close to your chest to get some comfort.

“Wong said you’ve been ignoring him. And you’ve been ignoring me, too.” The doctor mimicked your pose, now fully sitting on your bed. “I know we don’t know each other as long as you and Wong do, but I still care about you. You are my guest and I would be a horrible host if I didn’t care about your wellbeing.”

You knew he said it to make you feel better- to make sure that you knew that you could trust him. And you did. You trusted Stephen. But not with your feelings. You weren’t even sure what those feelings were.

Were you just excited that you made a new friend and mistook that excitement for romantic attraction? He gave you his attention, but this was what people did when they wanted to be friends with someone. Strange smiled at you once and you were convinced you developed a crush on him. It was pathetic how much you craved love that you were seeing it everywhere even if it wasn’t true.That was probably the reason your last relationship was a disaster. You went into it too quickly and then were surprised that it didn’t work out. You needed more time to think about it- your feelings for Stephen. He was a good friend and you would hate to lose that.

“I really appreciate it, Stephen.” You said with a genuine smile on your face. There was still some uncertainty in your eyes. “I think I’m just a little tired. I tend to overwork myself sometimes.”

“That makes the two of us then.” He smirked and pulled out another cookie. Stephen handed you the jar and you moved closer to him, decreasing the gap between your bodies. “I saw that you have just one book left to translate.”

“Yeah-” You sighed a bit too loud, ignoring the sorcerer’s gaze. “Wong said he would bind them all so I will probably be gone by the end of the next week.” You said, feeling a weird squeeze in your chest. You didn’t know why you felt like that. You leaving wouldn’t be the end of the world! You would still keep in touch with Wong- you have for all those years. So why was it affecting you so much this time?

Stephen stood up, clearing his throat quietly. The man stood up, leaving the cookie jar on your blanket and wiped his hands clean on his pyjama pants.

“You are welcome to stay longer if you want.” The doctor announced and slowly made his way to the door. “Wong and I- we love having you around. I wanted you to know that.”

Stephen left, letting you be alone with your thoughts.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

“Do you really want to go back to your old job though?” Wong asked, taking a sip of his morning tea. You liked to talk about many things with him, especially in the morning while you prepared breakfast. But the topic of your old job was making you nervous. It wasn’t really about the job itself- you liked what you were doing. The issue was people- or rather a person- who was still working there. It’s been almost a year since you left and your side gigs couldn’t pay all of your bills. You were happy when Wong called you and asked if you could come by to help translate some stuff, but you were here almost two months and felt like you should leave soon. You wouldn’t have to figure out your feelings for Stepehn if he wasn’t around.

“I have to make money somehow.” You flipped a pancake and put on a fake smile.

“You could find something here in New York. And you wouldn’t have to worry about rent since you’d be living here.” Your friend proposed.

It wasn’t a bad idea- now that you think of it it was an excellent idea. You really couldn’t argue with that.

“I will think about it.”

“That’s all you’ve been doing lately.”

Why was it so hard for you to open up to Wong now? You never had a problem with that before. Taking a deep breath you decided to rip the bandaid off.

“I think I have feelings for Stephen.” You breathed out, looking at your dear friend and waiting for his response. All you got was a hysterical laugh.

“That’s a good one!” Wong said, slapping his knee repeatedly. “Oh dear, I love your jokes.”

But you didn’t laugh.

“No- you’re-” the librarian lowered his tone, almost whispering. “No.”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

That was a good question. Were you sure?

“I don’t know.” A tear rolled down your face- you didn’t even know why you were so emotional about it. You didn’t even know for sure and you were making such a scene. Putting your face in your hands you shook your head and cried. “I don’t know, Wong!”

You were trembling and breathing heavily in your friend’s arms and didn’t even notice that you were walking somewhere- the librarian guiding you. You couldn’t see well because of the tears, but you recognised the outline of your room. Your knees hit something soft and if Wong didn’t turn you around you would flop on the bed face first.

It took you half an hour to calm down.

You missed breakfast that day, too.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

Taking a deep breath you put your sweater on and exit the library. You tried to do something productive, but nothing was going your way today. First the fiasco in the kitchen, then you isolating for the rest of your day and now sneaking out to the library when everyone else was asleep. What was going on with you?

Your stomach spoke, demanding food. You weren’t surprised- you haven’t eaten anything at all. And you really should do that. You can’t keep destroying yourself because of one tiny inconvenience.

Your bare feet walked through the wooden floors leading to the small kitchen you love so much.

“Midnight snack?” Someone spoke, making you jump and bump your leg into a chair. “I’m so sorry.” The familiar voice apologised, gently putting a hand on your shoulder to see if everything was alright. “I thought you saw me.”

“It’s fine.” You shrugged it off, massaging your knee to ease the pain a little. “I wasn’t paying attention.” You straightened your back and realised how close to you Stephen was.

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Would you like some tea? I was gonna make myself a cup.” The sorcerer proposed, taking a step back and giving you space.

Playing with the sleeves of our sweater you jumped on the counter- your favourite place to sit- and nodded. “I would kill for a cup of tea right now.”

“No killing will be necessary. I will do it willingly.” Stephen smirked, taking two ceramic mugs out of the upper cupboard. You noticed that one of them was your favourite mug- you used it literally every day and Stephen was a very observant person so it shouldn’t be surprising that he knew what you used to drink and from where. “The usual?” He asked, throwing a kitchen towel over his shoulder like a bartender, making you giggle.

“Make it double.” You said, playing along.

“So what brings you here at this hour?” The doctor asked, pouring the hot water into your mugs and then putting the tea inside.

“I wanted to get some work done, but I couldn’t focus.” You explained. Your friend handed you your tea and you thanked him with a shy smile.

“Wong said you had a really bad anxiety attack this morning-” the man hopped on the counter right next to you, his baby blues looking at you with some kind of softness you haven’t seen in him before. “-and I know you probably don’t want to talk about it which is fine-” he spoke, not really knowing where he was going with it. He wanted to make you feel better, but Stephen wasn’t the best at expressing his emotions. He was going to try though. For you. “-but i want you to know that you can trust me and I can find you some professional help if you need it. I know a few people who would be able to help.”

“I don’t-” you tried to defend yourself, but your voice shook. “I’m not crazy. I don’t need it!”

“Where is this coming from?” The doctor asked, confused . “Therapy can be for everyone no matter what and there’s nothing wrong with getting help.” He turned to you to get a better look at your face. He looked surprised by your little outburst, but he knew there was more to the story.

“You think so?” Suddenly you felt small. You have been to therapy before, but your ex wasn’t really supportive of that. You were called a variety of names. You were shamed and gaslighted into believing that you seeking help was a sign of weakness. That’s why you stopped going. You stopped taking your meds. And when you hit the rock bottom your partner decided that you weren’t worth all the trouble and left. You were scared of asking for help again- it was a weird fear, but it just wouldn’t let go of you.

“I know it.” Stephen’s gentle voice made you tear up a bit. “I’m no psychologist, but I have contacts. If you want I can accompany you to the first session. Or Wong.” He put your arm around you, drawing random shapes on your shoulder in a soothing motion.

You gave in and embraced him, throwing your arms around his neck and sobbing quietly.

“Thank you, Stephen.” You whispered and felt his hold on you tightening.

“Did anyone ever tell you that it was wrong to go to therapy?” The doctor asked in a hushed voice. He didn’t break the hug.

“You could say that.” You sniffled, face still hiding in his chest. You were sure there was already a wet spot from all your tears on his shirt. “An ex of mine had very strong opinions about me taking meds and going to therapy.”

“What a dick.” Stephen huffed, anger radiated from him. If he ever met that person he would send them to some crazy dimensions to fuck with their mind. “They didn’t deserve you.”

“There’s a reason this person is an ex.” You smiled sadly and took a deep breath. “Wong had already kicked that asshole’s butt so don’t worry.” You giggled at the memory. Violence was never the answer, but in that case it was really appreciated. “But ever since then I was kinda scared of reaching out, you know?”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Your friend’s hand wandered from your shoulder up to your hair and gently massaged your scalp, making you melt in his arms. “I will make some calls first thing in the morning. You should see someone as soon as possible. Especially if you need medication.” He said. You could hear the determination in his voice. Stephen was nothing like your last partner. He really cared. He supported you and wanted the best for you. And even if there could never be anything more than friendship between you you would still be happy to have him in your life. “When was the last time you took your meds.”

"I'm embarrassed to say." You straightened your back and let your hands fall from Stephen's neck. He was still holding you, knowing you still needed some comfort.

"You don't have to tell me, but please mention it to your therapist, okay?" The sorcerer gave your shoulder a light pat and hopped off the counter. "Our tea is getting cold." You smiled and followed your friend to sit at the table. You saw him taking a sip from his tea and cringe. "The bags were in the water for too long. It's really bitter."

You sighed, putting the mugs in the sink. It was probably a sign that you should go back to your room.

"There's a place 3 blocks away with great Thai food." Strange looked at you with a silent question. You couldn't say no to food, but you weren't sure if it was a good idea to go out so late. "They also have great tea and I know for a fact that they are still open." He sensed your hesitation, but refused to leave you alone in your room with your thoughts. You had to get away from here- even if it was just for a few minutes. "I'm paying."

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

Walking side by side with Stephen, your arms in your pockets to shield them from the cold midnight air, you looked around to see plenty of people doing all kinds of stuff. New York truly never slept. It was a part of its charm.

The doctor offered you his arm when a group of tourists passed through the crowd, almost pulling you in with them. You liked big cities, but you absolutely hated the crowds. You hooked your hand in the place between Stephen's arm and his elbow, holding it tightly. It didn’t take long for you to get to the restaurant Stephen told you about. You visited many places like this with the boys when neither of you wanted to cook anything, but this building wasn’t familiar to you.

Stephen opened the door for you like the gentleman he was and as you stepped inside you were hit with a variety of smells. Your stomach reminded you of its existence once more and you were sure everyone in the room could hear it.

Your friend waved his hand at the older lady behind the counter with a smile on his face. He gestured at the small table in the corner- hidden from everyone’s eyes- and took your jacket. Taking two menus from the wooden napkin holder in the middle of your table, Stephen handed you one, his cold fingers leaving a feather-like sensation on your palm.

“Their green curry is delicious.” The sorcerer said, turning his menu around and pointing at the picture on top.

“I will have to take your word for that, Doctor.” You smirked actually feeling some happiness in you after the entire day of sleeping in your depression cave you called the bedroom.

“What tea would you like?” He asked, tapping a finger on his knee to the beat of the song playing from the radio. Your eyes scanned the pages of the little book in your hands. Stephen was watching you while you tried to make a choice. You looked adorable with your hair a bit messy from the wind, biting your lip deep in thought. The sorcerer smiled- you couldn’t see it, but the look he gave you was full of adoration.

“I think I will get the Thai Ice Tea.” You announced, putting your menu aside. Turning your head to face Stephen you noticed that he was staring and immediately became self conscious. “Do I have something on my face?”

“What? No it’s just-” The doctor straightened his back, blushing. The awkward pause between you was interrupted by the waitress who appeared at your table.

“Stephen! It’s so good to see you here, honey.” The older woman you saw earlier behind the counter pinched the man’s cheek in an affectionate manner. The sorcerer groaned, but couldn’t hide the smile on his face. “What can I get you today, sweetie?”

“It’s good to see you too, Malee. You look beautiful as ever.” The doctor leaned back in his chair and put on his charming smile. “Did you get a haircut?”

“Oh, I did!” the woman giggled, taking a pen out of her pocket. “But the flattery won’t give you a discount.”

“It was worth a try.” The sorcerer shrugged. You watched this exchange with a huge grin. You were enjoying their little interaction. It was kinda sweet. “We would like two plates of green curry and two ice teas.”

Malee quickly wrote down your order and put the pen back into the pocket of her jeans. “I will bring you your drinks right away.” She said, tugging her long grey hair behind her ear.

“I will go get them, just tell me when they’re done!” Stephen called as the woman walked through the door leading to the kitchen. “She has really weak hands, she shouldn’t carry anything heavy.” Your friend explained, turning back to you.

“She’s a lovely lady.” You mentioned, trying to change the subject. You wanted to keep a steady conversation, fearing that if you fell silent your thoughts would spiral in the wrong direction again. “Very lively.”

“She is just the sweetest.” The doctor’s smile made the wrinkles under his eyes stand out. He looked good like that. “Wong and I come here very often when we pull all-nighters.”

“I can see why.” You looked around, your eyes scanning the art on the walls and the curtains that matched the floor. “It’s very cosy here.”

You didn’t realise it, but you were swaying to the music playing through the speakers. You were enjoying the moment of peace and Stephen’s presence helped with that a lot. You also didn’t notice when the sorcerer stood up to get your tea. He put the glasses on the table and gave you a smile. A teenage boy walked behind him with a tray of your food. And oh, you were so excited to finally eat something after a long day. You were all set when Melee came up to you with a little candle and matches. She put it in the middle of the table, surprising both you and Stephen.

“Enjoy your date.” She winked at you and left, leaving both of you out of words.

“I just want to clarify that I didn’t intend for it to be a date.” Stephen said, awkwardly scratching his neck.

“Oh, yeah. I-” You didn’t want to let it show, but you were a little hurt by his response.

“It’s just- you had a really rough night and I-I wanted to provide some comfort.” The sorcerer explained, stumbling over his own words.

“I understand, Stephen. It’s really okay.” You took a sip of your tea- the flavours melting on your tongue made your stomach calm down a bit. You were fighting back your tears- you didn’t want to ruin the night even more.

“And besides, a restaurant seems a little cliche for a date.” The doctor cleared his throat and took a fork in his right hand. “If I was to ask you out on a date it would be something special.” He mumbled, but you heard him perfectly clear. “If you agreed, of course.”

“Really?” You asked- your voice still felt weak, but there was a bit of hope behind your eyes. “You would ask me on a date if you knew I would say yes?”

“I would ask you regardless of your answer and handle rejection like a big boy.” He said in a joking tone, but you knew he meant that. “But the timing doesn’t seem right right now, does it?” He smiled sadly at you and got busy with his food.

“What do you mean by that?” You asked, trying to decipher the meaning of Stephen’s words.

“I mean-” Your friend took a deep breath, looking you deep in the eyes. “You are still working for me. You are also living in a place where I’m technically the boss. I’m about to help you find a therapist.” Stephen explained. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to agree to go on a date with me just because you feel like you should.”

You were taken aback by this answer- not in a bad way. It showed that Stephen really cared about you. You never felt like you owed him anything, but he took your valuable state of mind into consideration which made you feel really appreciated. He wanted to make sure that you would feel comfortable in this relationship- that you wouldn’t feel trapped and obligated to being with him.

“I really appreciate that, Stephen.” You smiled, taking a spoonful of rice. “I wouldn’t say no if you asked me- not because I live under your roof. You are a great man and anyone would be lucky to have you.” A familiar warmth creeped up your face. It made you feel like a middle school child having their very first crush.

Stephen’s eyes shyly wandered around the room. Your words made his heart beat faster. He had to run the conversation in his head twice to make sure you really just said what he thought you said. The sorcerer wasn’t the best at showing his feelings- especially romantic ones- but with you it seemed to be much easier.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see where it gets us.” Strange replied, looking at you one more time. You locked eyes and smiled.

And for the first time in ages you didn’t worry about the future.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

“How was your session today?” Wong greeted you with a hug and a cup of fresh tea as you entered the kitchen. The smell of cheese hit your nostrils, making you salivate. Home sweet home.

“It was pretty good.” You said, taking a sip of your hot beverage.”I will probably get new meds soon.”

“That’s fantastic!” The librarian cheered.

Ever since Stephen helped you start therapy again you became more alive. You didn’t realise how much stuff affected your mental health until now. You’ve been going to that Doctor for 3 months now and you couldn’t believe how much changed in such a short amount of time. You were going easy on yourself- you were slowly unlearning your old self destructive behaviours like working 24/7 without a break or bottling up your emotions. Wong was very supportive and helped in any way he could. In some way your therapy helped him relax a bit. He promised to take you on a hike every weekend- something you loved doing when you were younger- and he didn’t say it often, but he loved that, too. It was your quality time with Wong. Even if he had a ton of work to do he always made sure to finish before the weekend, not wanting to miss that time with you.

And then there was Stephen. You’ve been in New York for almost 6 months now and Stephen was nothing but kind to you. Your relationship progressed very quickly and the two of you became best friends in no time. Of course there was still the question of your feelings, but you both agreed to give it time. But with every passing day you fell more and more for him. Little did you know that the sorcerer supreme felt the same way. He was still shy around you at times, but you always made sure you were both comfortable no matter what you were doing. You spent plenty of time together from practising spells to watching movies. You cherished all these moments.

You finished translating the last book a few weeks ago- Stephen and Wong insisted that you take a break and focus on your health. Work could always wait. The librarian convinced you to let him bind those books by himself so that you could have more free time. Those guys were the best thing that had ever happened to you.

“Is that lasagna I smell?” The doctor walked into the kitchen through a portal and took a seat right next to you.

“It is!” Wong said, proudly as he took the dish out of the oven and put it on the table. “Did you bring the wine?” He asked, looking around in hope to find a bottle.

“I didn’t know you wanted me to.” Stephen said, setting the table for the three of you. “I can go get it. There’s a few more bottles in the basement.”

“No, it’s fine. I will get them.” The librarian said and walked out of the room. He used it as an excuse to leave you and Stephe alone but you didn’t have to know that.

“I heard your session went well today.” The sorcerer spoke, sitting down on his chair.

“It really did.” You smiled, following his lead.

“What are your plans for today?” Your friend asked, wanting to make some small talk before executing his little plan and asking you out. This time officially.

“Oh, I think I have a date.” You said with a sprinkle of uncertainty in your voice.

Stephen was stunned by your answer- a little bit hurt, too. It wasn’t like you had swore to go on a date with him, but the things were going so well between you the doctor assumed you felt the same. Apparently that wasn’t the case and Stephen respected your decision.

“Oh, a date?”

“Yeah, I don’t know if he agrees though. He’s kinda busy with sorcery stuff and all that.” You bit your lip, trying to stop yourself from smiling.

Stephen exhaled in relief, with a smirk on his face.

“I’m sure he will find some time for you.” He announced, playing along. “He already cleared out his schedule for you.”

You giggled like a little kid, taking Stephen’s hand in yours and placing a gentle kiss on his knuckles. “It’s a date then, doctor.”

“I believe it is.”

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

Stephen Strange Tag List: @gaitwae @funsized-mimi @queenjosielaufeyson @mischiefmanaged71 @eternal-silvertongued-prince @thatasgardianprince

#stephen strange x reader #doctor strange x reader #gender neutral reader #slow burn #mutual pining #doctor stephen strange x reader #stephen strange fanfiction #doctor strange fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #stephen strange #doctor strange

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l0sercat · 7 months

Text

Kinktober

Love bites with Stephen Strange

MDNI

You sat on his lap cock warming him as his mouth sucked on your sensitive flesh. His beard and mustache tickling you causing you to shiver. You softly moaned closed your eyes as his mouth moved from your shoulder to your neck.

You bit your lip enjoying the feeling of him licking the soft flesh to him then sucking. His lips kissed it and his teeth ever so slightly grazed it. You gripped to back of his hair and held his head in place.

Your body clenched his cock hard making him groan. You were enjoying the feeling but he pulled back leaving a trail of salvia to follow. You whined at the lost of contact and he grinned. "So needy hm?" You tried to get some friction but he gripped you hips tightly. The rubber of the gloves felt weird against your naked flesh. He looked at you with a teasing grin "C'mon I haven't even done anything yet"

He leans his head back towards your neck and gives attention to the other side. "This side been neglected..how about I treat yeah?" He licked a stripe from your shoulder to the base of your neck. His teeth poked your skin and he gently nipped. His lips pecked your skin once in a while. "Stephen please..." He didn't spare a glance at you and just mumbled "Use your words"

You whined as he suckled and left marks across your neck. He was going to mark you as his for everyone to see. He pulled away and looked at his masterpiece. Your neck was littered in love bites which caused Stephen to grin. "All marked up to show everyone who you belong to..you took it so well I think you deserve a treat.."

He flipped you over on his desk leaned down to whisper in your ear "Get ready dear 'cause I'm not taking it easy on you"

#love bites #bites #x reader #gender neutral #gender not specified #gender neutral reader #stephen strange #dr strange #marvel #dr stephen strange #dr strange x reader #dr strange x you #mdni

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pkg4mumtown · 9 months

Text

Through Glass (Ch. 7)

Chapter 7: The Distance

Rating: T

Summary: Stephen and Strange finally go head to head.

A/N: Uhhhhhhhh, remember when I apologized last chapter for up and disappearing? Yea…SORRY. Life has been very very busy. Sorry for this being relatively short.

Strange = Dr. Strange in reader’s universe

Stephen = Strange-Supreme

Warnings: Feelings of being watched, Multiversal Stalking, Possessive!Stephen, Eventual body horror, Gender Neutral Pronouns for Reader, No Y/N, First Person POV, What If AU where Reader dies instead of Christine, Strange-Supreme just needs a hug honestly, Stephen in Reader’s universe is a big dummy, Stephen is touch starved, consentacles (ch.6), smut (ch.6), reader/monster romance

Catch up with Chapter: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

I've seen this yearning take on a frightening form The memory of you will make sure my past lingers on And I still love how you say my name I still taste you kissing my pain away Still see your tears through the rain

After Wong had left to prepare the Kamar-Taj and the other sanctums for yet another attack—despite still recovering from Wanda, Strange hit the ground running on a solution. He logically expected pushback in the form of a fight but without Wong to help with preparing a heavy-duty protection spell, it took him a lot longer to prepare. Between that and coming up with a game plan that Wong would approve, Strange took a little longer than he’d like for such a pressing matter. Once he was ready, however, he wasn’t going to be stopped by any coyness or front doors. He was getting straight to the point and finally finishing this drawn-out incident.

—

The next twelve (or so) hours that Stephen and I shared together were pure domesticated bliss. But, with bliss eventually comes hunger.

I spread the last of the cream cheese on a toasted bagel, tossing the knife in the sink and grabbing both plates to head to the living room.

“Here’s your—shit!” I started, just about jumping out of my skin as I saw Strange stepping through a portal with his eyes trained on me. I was able to keep the bagels from an untimely meeting with the floor. “Hungry?” I pushed the plate toward Strange, glad Stephen was nowhere in sight. He had probably sensed him incoming and had no time to warn me.

“Two bagels?” Strange asked with an unimpressed raise of an eyebrow.

“I’m glad you can count. Bagel?”

“Where is he?” Strange demanded.

“Who?”

“I’m really not in the mood for you to play dumb,” Strange groaned, using magic to remove the plates from my hands. Thankfully, they reappeared elsewhere. “The person who was going to eat the other bagel, your dog, whatever you’re calling him. Where. Is. He?”

“Are you saying I can’t eat two bagels by myself? Because I totally could and I’m prepared to prove you wrong.”

I didn’t realize I’d been shuffling backwards until my shoulder hit the edge of the hallway. It was stupid really, attempting to rush into my room and close the door knowing full well Strange could just wiggle his fingers and make something happen. But I attempted it anyway and now I was locked inside of my, now doorless, room with him.

“Now…” Strange sighed at my minor inconveniences, “…the faster you give him up, the faster this gets over with. Youasked me for help, remember? So, if he’s threatening you, I can help with that.” Strange continued walking toward me until I was backed against the wall with no way out, “However, if you’re protecting him…”

My eyes flicked over Strange’s shoulder, spying Stephen’s murderous reflection in the mirror, “Step back, please.”

“Why? Is your dog going to come take a bite out of me?” Strange huffed, glancing over his shoulder but not seeing the reflection that I had.

“You’re going to piss him off!”

“Who?!” He shouted.

“You! Okay!?” I snapped.

Strange’s face fell as Wong’s assessment was confirmed by my confession. Strange mumbled a curse and rubbed a hand over his face.

“Hey, asshole!” Strange turned and yelled into the room, arms spread open. He walked to the middle of the room, monitoring any reflections he could. After a beat of silence, he locked eyes with me again, “I’m assuming he got spooked and went back in when I arrived?”

I rolled my eyes at “spooked” and shrugged, “Most likely.”

“Good,” he smirked, moving his arms in wide motions, creating a complex sigil before my eyes. “I’m locking him out for good, this time.”

My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach despite knowing my Stephen was stronger. What if Strange could pull it off? Then what?

“No!” I lurched forward, stupidly grabbing his arm mid-cast. “You can’t! He’s not a bad person!”

Strange stepped away from me, pausing the casting so I didn’t hurt myself, “I’m trying to protect you! Just like you asked!”

“You don’t even know me!”

“That didn’t matter before. And anyway, it’s for the best. Knowing me would put you in danger that you couldn’t handle,” Strange snarled grimly, drawing his brows together.

“According to you, I already am.”

Strange huffed as his concentration broke, moving away from me and stomping over to the large mirror where most of the energy had been concentrated before.

“Strange, dammit!” I shoved his shoulder as he began to cast the spell again.

“You are pushing every last button I have,” he growled, shaking me off his shoulder.

Facing the mirror again, Strange quickly shuffled back a few steps as Stephen appeared, fully decked out in his menacing creature form.

Shit.

“Oh, he’s not bad, huh?” Strange stressed, waving an arm out to the mirror. “Look at him!”

Strange restarted the spell again only for me to shove him harder. I had barely made contact when I was pushed by an invisible force, landing hard on the floor with a groan. I stood back up, no injuries to speak of other than a bruised ego and a bruised ass.

“Uh, ow?”

“If you’d’ve stayed back, I wouldn’t hav—,” Strange was cut off as tentacles suddenly pushed through the mirror, wrapping around Strange’s neck, wrists, and torso. He was lifted off the ground, bringing him eye level to Stephen, while keeping his hands apart.

Stephen leaned out of the mirror, snarling and growling filling up the room instantly, “Don’t you dare bring harm to them again! You know how important they are to us, coward!”

“They’re not—gah—yours to protect,” Strange choked out. “What happened—to—yours, hmm?”

“They’re gone,” Stephen brought his face even closer to Strange’s then glanced slightly upwards to Strange’s forehead. “Oh…,” Stephen chuckled, “…how precious.”

Strange’s fists were clenched, wrists contorting as he tried to over power Stephen as violet magic emanated from his fists. It was only then that I noticed the third eye on Strange’s face. Not that more than two eyes was strange to me at this point, I just wasn’t aware that Strange had some of that funk going on, too.

“The Darkhold, Doctor? What a hypocrite!” Stephen spat.

“I—did what I—had to do,” Strange gurgled.

“To save the girl, yes. I’m aware America Chavez resides here. Great kid. Anyway,” Stephen brought Strange’s hand in between them with a tentacle, “Here’s the difference between you and me, Doc.” With some effort, Stephen managed to force one of his arms back to his human form from the elbow down to his fingers. He put their hands side by side, one heavily scarred and shaking while the other stood unmarred and perfectly still, and snarled, “You didn’t have to lose them to follow your fate into the Mystic Arts. I did!”

As Stephen said his piece, I felt for Strange as I watched his face grow a deeper red—borderline purple—and worryingly so as the tentacles seemed to squeeze harder the more Stephen raged on. Hesitantly, I approached, making sure Shumi was able to sense my presence amidst all the emotion before laying a hand on the tentacle wrapped around Strange’s neck.

“Stephen, please,” I asked softly.

“Get back,” Strange wheezed, more air than noise escaping.

Stephen snarled at Strange before glancing at me from the corner of a few of his eyes, while the others stayed trained on Strange.

“Put him down before something bad happens. This universe still needs its Doctor Strange.”

Stephen responded with something akin to a grumble and loosened up the tentacles, letting Strange drop to his feet with a not-so-gentle thud.

“Wha—?” Strange wheezed, clutching his neck and his face only donning two eyes once more, but still staring at Stephen’s bare arm. “Ah—How?”

“The car accident,” Stephen’s voice distorted midway through speaking as he calmed the beings inside him and switched back to his human form; his body going back behind the mirror. His red and purple robes sat heavily on his shoulders contrasting his gaunt, pale features with his light brown hair contrasting Strange’s deep, black hair. “They died in the car accident. In my accident.”

“Y—you knew them…before?” Strange cleared his throat, eyes squinting as he tried to piece together Stephen’s timeline.

Stephen’s head nodded silently, eyes cast downward at the mention of his past; clearly still feeling the weight of the guilt of his actions.

“So, you joined the Mystic Arts and turned yourself in to this? Do I even want to know what you did?!” Strange berated him. “You could have gone back to work but you chose this instead?”

Stephen’s face snapped up, a snarl marring his human features. He charged toward the mirror with fists balled and fury in his eyes, “They meant more to me than work! That’s the difference between you and me.”

Strange responded in kind, bringing up huge orange runes to shield himself in case Stephen did anything.

“Stop!” I snapped. “Look, Strange, he’s been here for months and hasn’t done anything bad. Those aren’t his intentions.”

“He’s still dangerous,” Doctor Strange stated matter of factly.

“He’s no—.”

“You have no idea what just his presence could do here, okay? Just his being here destabilizes the multiverse and could cause far more harm than he may intend,” Strange raised his voice, just on the edge of condescending despite the glare from Stephen.

“I—is that true?” I stalled thickly, looking over at Stephen for answers.

“It’s hypothetica—.”

“It’s actually very real, thank you,” Strange interrupted. “Incursions are not to be trifled with.”

Stephen scoffed, “Please, I’ve hopped around the multiverse plenty and nev—.”

“Oh my fu…,” Strange trailed off, running a hand over his tired face.

“For good reason! There have been plenty of multiversal disasters prevented thanks to me, your highness. So, you’re welcome for dealing with them before they reached your universe.”

“Coming from someone who has had to rectify his own incursion, they are still not to be brushed off as hypothetical!” Strange stressed.

“I jus—.”

“—Haven’t you ruined enough!?” Strange nearly shouted.

Stephen stopped speaking immediately, suddenly feeling very small despite the power inside him.

“From the looks of it, your universe isn’t doing too hot,” Strange made a show of peering around Stephen. “Then you drove erratically with them in the car and had the audacity to think you could…what? Fix it? Without consequences? Am I on the right track?”

Stephen was still silent.

“Stephen…” I murmured.

“No,” he whispered back. “He’s right.”

“No...,” my eyes widened.

“I’ll leave,” Stephen nodded, finally picking his eyes up and looking at me. “I just wanted more time.”

“Please don’t go,” I pushed forward to the mirror, feeling my throat tightening with every word.

“I have to,” Stephen looked away, the sight of tears pooling in my eyes suddenly too much for him to watch. “You were never mine to have anyway. You’re his.”

Overwhelmed with anger, I hit the wall next to the mirror with my palm and ignored the pain thereafter, “No one owns me! He doesn’t even know me! Not like you do!” I blew up at the mirror. My chest heaved with furious breathing and hitched breaths underneath the sight of tears making their way down my cheeks.

“I know, hey…” Stephen pushed himself part way through the mirror, not caring if Strange protested or not. He pressed his forehead against mine and settled his hands on the outside of my upper arms, rubbing his hands up and down to calm me. “…I know. And I don’t agree with him but…”

“I’m right here,” Strange scoffed distantly.

“…I’m sorry,” Stephen murmured.

I was barely able to brush my lips against his before he was pulling away completely, looking completely dejected and defeated without Strange even having to lift a finger to accomplish it. I slowly stepped back out of shock that this was happening.

“Whatever Multiversal saving you’ve been doing aside…I’m going to need you to respect this for this universe at least,” Strange sighed. “I really don’t want to drag Wong here to help me seal the place up.”

Stephen nodded solemnly.

“You can't make him go!” I suddenly blurted out, grabbing onto Strange’s forearm. “You can’t do this! He just wants to feel again!” Strange kept his arm strong to keep me back from the mirror as my words slowly disintegrated into sobs. My weight shifted ominously making Strange shift to catch me and help lower me to the ground.

“I’m sorry, I—“

“Don’t touch me! Get the fuck out of my house!” I pushed him away and used my feet to scoot myself away from him. I pressed my back against the wall, bringing my palms to my eyes and refusing to see Stephen drift away like a dream.

“Doc…” Stephen murmured over my sobs.

Strange closed his eyes and straightened himself up, giving his attention over to the pale face in the mirror.

“You don’t need to do this self-sacrificing stunt that we always pull,” Stephen muttered. “You can still fix things with them.”

“You’re the last person who should be giving advice,” Strange rolled his eyes.

“On the contrary, and don’t look at me like that. I am you. I clocked your idiotic plan a few weeks into being here,” Stephen snapped and then sighed again, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “Look, I’ve made a lot of mistakes but them? They were never a mistake.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Strange flicked his eyes over to my curled up ball of a form.

“You’re allowed to feel and be human. You do deserve to be loved and happy.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to love someone or to have them love me,” Strange’s voice wavered. “I’m scared to lose them.”

“So, you keep them at a distance before anything can begin, I get it. But, as much as you think they’re not, they are safer with you. And despite what you’ve pulled so far, they’re forgiving to a fault—given some time. You have a chance still. Take it from me…Don’t. Waste. It. It could be your last one.”

Strange watched as his darker self turned around and walked away, slowly fading out into Strange’s own reflection. With my sobs still filling the suddenly quiet room, Strange stepped carefully out of the room. He waved his hand, making my bedroom door appear again and disappeared through a circle of sparks. The crackling sparks fizzled out moments later, leaving only me to fill the silence.

Don't you worry There'll be a time when our hearts beat the same Let life carry Across the distance I still see your flame

The Distance - Poets of the Fall (x)

Chapter 8 - Coming Soon

#stephen strange x reader #doctor strange x reader #gender neutral reader #marvel fanfiction #strange supreme x reader #Series: Through Glass #my art

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ineffable-and-galore · 2 years

Text

Book Nooks and Spells

Pairing: Doctor Strange x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Brief mentions of assault

AN: Hi guys if you recognize this one-shot it’s because I also write on Wattpad and this is posted on there as well! Enjoy!

Summary: After Y/N finishes their training they run into a certain someone in the Kamar-Taj library

The days seemed to pass by at the Kamar Taj like seconds. The training was tedious for newcomers, you and the others seemed to never get any rest. The older sorcerers and masters claimed that it slowed with time, so you could focus more on studies, but for newcomers being able to defend yourself and learn the basics was key.

The few months you'd been here it had been training, eating, more training, and then sleeping with occasional small breaks, merely enough to only socialize, were spread throughout the day. Your friend, who informed you of the Kamar Taj in the first place, told you that it would be extremely difficult for the first few months, but sadly you didn't believe him.

Over time you learned to become accepting of the hard work you had to put into becoming a master of the arts. It would finally bring you peace, after what you had experienced.

This afternoon, was the time of the exam, to see if you could finally focus on other parts of your studies, like the library which you loved the few times you made your way in there, or if you had to practice and improve more to be able to properly know the basics.

Nervously you paced in your room, your tunic swishing behind you, the teachers had given you a few hours off to eat and practice more. All you wanted to do was advance, you didn't want the boring spell and portal casting you did every day to continue any longer. Glancing out the window, you could see some of the masters practicing, the Kamar Taj was filled with people from every sanctum, to let loose for a few hours or perhaps go to the library or consult with other masters.

Footsteps began to make their way down the hall to your room and stopped in front. Suddenly a harsh knock was heard on your wooden door. I'm not opening that, I still have at least another 15 minutes, it could be someone looking to distract me.

"Y/N?" your friend called through the door, it didn't matter you still weren't answering even for him, "They must be out at the courtyard already."

-small time skip-

You were in the courtyard, the masters scanned over the students, whispering to each other about those in the class.

"Did you hear of Y/N? They're quite the fine pupil, top of their class."

It didn't matter how many good things you hear about yourself, you were still a nervous wreck. The exam couldn't be over with faster, and you hadn't even started yet.

Once the leader of the sanctum showed up, you and the other students were told to start. You cast spells, sparred, and practiced portal making. Focused on your performance you did not even realize when the exam finished.

A master came up to congratulate you, and soon others did as well, saying you were the best in the class of about twenty students. I definitely passed then. The head master in charge, came up to tell you of your achievement and how you passed with flying covers.

-time skip brought by stephen's white streaks-

It had been a day since the exam, the masters ordered every pupil involved to rest for at least a day after all of the tedious training that had been surrounding you all. You gladly took to the order and had slept most of the day, along with practicing some of your own spells, which were still largely unsuccessful.

Opening your door, you glanced around the hallway, it was late at night so you did not expect to run into any other masters or pupils, but just in case you did. Once you saw the clear hallway you made your way over to the library where a master was situated, as a librarian. She was one of the ones that had taken to you during your training, so hopefully, she would not comment on your strange timing or habits.

"Eager are we Y/N?" Master Echo smiled as she looked up from her book.

"Yes master, I've been itching to explore here ever since I first arrived and now I have the time," you made your way over to the book about image casting, something you wished to try.

"I recommend this one dear," Echo cast a portal to point her hand through to show a book on the subject.

Taking it, you thanked the master and made your way to explore the rest of the library, hoping to stumble on a comfortable place to practice and read. After circling the library you found an almost hidden nook, covered by shelves of unplaced books, some of which you had to move out of the way.

Forming a portal you reached into your room to grab a blanket and pillow, that you laid against the wall and curled into. Scanning the pages you found the passage of which motions and thoughts to have while casting the spell and began to read carefully making sure not to miss any part, that could be crucial, and reading the warnings after.

You heard Echo begin to talk to someone else in the distance, probably another late reader like yourself, "There was someone else, they went that way. Don't worry I do not believe they took your spot."

Hearing the conversation end, a pair of footsteps began to make their way to your nook. Surely they won't find this, it's well hidden.

Focusing back on your book you decided not to care, if they came here you got here first, it's only fair you get to stay.

"Excuse me Mx, I believe you are in my spot," a baritone voice said.

Glancing up you saw a man peaking his head in from the entrance, he was adorned in robes, much like yours but somewhat fancier, and a red cape that seemed to possibly be sentient. Likely a relic.

"Sorry," glaring at the man you held your book to your chest, "I am not moving. I was here first and you cannot just claim a spot and not expect anyone to ever sit in it."

"I guess we will just have to share then," the man began to crawl in and settled across from you, with his feet crossed for more room.

I could care less, there's plenty enough space.

"You're quite intrusive aren't you?" You asked the man as he began to read one of the books in his pile, most seemed to be about astral projection and other to-difficult-for-you spells.

"I am." he held out his hand to you to introduce himself, "Stephen Strange."

The neurosurgeon, you were familiar with him from your time in New York before the accident. Holding out your hand to him you introduced yourself, "Y/N. I really admired your work in New York as a surgeon, one of my friends worked as a nurse in your hospital, they didn't know you personally but always talked about how smart you were."

"Did you ever live in New York? I'm assuming you might if your friend did," Stephen asked with curiosity in his eyes.

"I did," you held up your hand to his face, "I used to be a musician, but thanks to my accident I came here." Wiggling your fingers you showed him the few you had left on your hand, the rest of your hand still scarred from your surgeries and healing.

He held up his hand as well, you could see the scars and the slight shake in it as well as the pins that must be in it, they stood out from the rest, "We have some of the same experience."

"I don't mean to be rude, and you don't have to answer but how?" you curiously asked the man wondering how on earth someone got that many pins on their hand.

"Car accident, my fault. You?" He asked while studying your face for signs of panic or uncomfort so he could stop if needed.

"Mugging, they didn't like my identity," your tone now a more somber one, memories of your past flooding back into the front of your mind, hate-filled thoughts directed at those who did it, before you calmed yourself.

"I can kill them for you?" Stephen winced at his joke, realizing how bad it must sound to someone he had just now met.

"The past is in the past, I don't know what they look like anyway, it all happened so fast and I passed out from the pain," frowning at yourself as the words left your mouth and having a sudden feeling of homesickness. "I do miss New York, it was practically my home."

"Come to the sanctum sometimes, it's just two of us, we could use someone fresh," Stephen smiled while making the offer.

"I'll consider. As of right now all I wish to do is learn this spell," you tried to focus on the book in your lap once again, unsuccessfully ignoring the sorcerer that sat in front of you.

"I can show you," Stephen held out his hand for you to put yours in as he showed you the proper motions then said the incantations to go along with it. "Now you try," he looked at you to see you doing the spell correctly on your first try, being internally surprised by it.

You thought about what you wished to do and performed the spell, holding out your hand for an image of a New York sunset, that you missed more than anything else in the city, to project itself on top of it. Stephen smiled at the image, the city was his home, after all, he got to see almost exactly that image at Bleecker Street nearly every night.

"I think we are going to be good friends Mx. Y/N. Come down to the sanctum anytime." Smiling you began to talk more with the other sorcerer, the topics ranging over both of your wide variety of interests, you had a feeling that you had just made your second real friend at the Kamar Taj.

#doctor strange x reader #doctor strange #marvel one shot #marvel fanfic #doctor stephen strange #stephen strange x reader #doctor strange one shot #gender neutral one shot #fluff #doctor strange fluff

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inactive-hellish-hyperfixation · 1 year

Text

masterlist

as the title says, a masterlist of all my written daydreams, for your convenience

stephen strange:

I love you a latte (m!reader, fluff)

Stephen Strange bought a coffee machine that began malfunctioning not long after the purchase. Luckily for him, a cafe with a friendly barista was being built across the street.

happy early birthday (gn!reader, fluff)

Stephen Strange becomes familiar with the soft violin playing of his new assistant at the New York Sanctum, and falls. Hard.

beautiful (m!reader, fluff)

Stephen Strange, although known for having an overinflated ego, had an insecurity that nobody was shy about pointing out. Then, he's introduced to a man who never pried, and he couldn't help but fall.

andromache the scythian:

sweet dreams, love (gn!reader, fluff)

After an accident, Andromache comes to the realization that she's no longer going to live forever and feels the need to speak some truths.

chase davenport:

caught in the act (m!reader, fluff)

Chase Davenport struggles with finding time to spend with his boyfriend due to missions and trying to hide the relationship from his family. Fortunately, his family was going out and coming home late one night. Or so he thought.

#masterlist #stephen strange x male reader #stephen strange x gender neutral reader #stephen strange x m!reader #stephen strange x gn!reader #chase davenport x male reader #chase davenport x m!reader #andromache the scythian x gn!reader #andromache the scythian x gender neutral reader #fluff #doctor strange x male reader #doctor strange x gender neutral reader

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just-a-strange-boy · 7 months

Text

a wicked tongue

part two

part one here

masterlist

Two frustrating nights in a row leave you restless. Stephen finds himself concerned - and poses a kind offer. He seems all too eager to pay you a friendly favor.

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader (GN)

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), more questionable sexual proposals, friends with benefits (kind of), caught masturbating, oral sex (reader receiving), face sitting

A/N: one good turn deserves another ;) and I promised you a sequel, so there it is! thanks for all the love you left on a helping hand. I tried to keep this as gender neutral as possible, but it was very hard to not get specific with this kind of sexual interaction. I suppose you could say it's a little more afab-coded, but I still hope you'll enjoy!

The world was kind of funny.

Two days ago you had decided to help your sister's friend get off after sort of stumbling upon him in a very private moment, failing to pleasure himself, and finding yourself to just be the right person for the task.

Now, after two frustrating nights in a row of trying, you were suddenly the one incapable of getting all the way to the edge on your own. You didn't know what the matter was, why it suddenly wouldn't just...work.

Perhaps it was the fact that you were staying at someone else's place that made you unable to orgasm in peace. Not even the shower would do, though the perfect place for masturbation as the door locked and the spray would conceal any noises you did not want Stephen to hear.

But your body simply wasn't able to relax, even though that had never been one of your concerns before.

Maybe you were just tired of only ever feeling your fingers – you had to admit it had been a long while since having someone else and you rarely used the opportunity of involving a sex toy.

It wasn't that you weren't horny enough, because heaven's sake you absolutely were. That's why it was so damn frustrating. The urge to get there was strong and arousal sparked almost violently, especially when you thought about Stephen. You needed release and just couldn't find it.

Maybe it was a Stephen problem.

The man had been riddling your thoughts ever since your little encounter in his bedroom – and you found yourself replaying how beautiful he had sounded, remembering the expressions on his face flicking from frustration to pleasure to bliss and relief, how incredibly hot it had been to have him (quite literally) in your hand and bring him to a mindblowing orgasm. But even that fantasy wasn't enough to do it for you and you frankly felt bad for using Stephen as means to get off.

Shame on you. Of course, you still thought about him. Whenever you thought you got there though, you failed to cum anyways.

It left you restless and frustrated, even though it had only been a few days without release, and that's exactly why you ended up sitting at the kitchen aisle in the middle of the night, deciding to start working on the next project because you imagined it at least might distract you enough from your own dissatisfaction.

So you had thought.

But once you had opened the program, you immediately realized that neither inspiration nor motivation would grace you tonight, so you kept typing and tapping away randomly, hoping some creative spark would finally strike and keep your mind busy.

Minutes and then an hour and then two hours went by. Nothing.

About 1am, you were surprised to find Stephen joining you in the kitchen, staggering in from the dark corridor – he acknowledged you with a curt nod, though his gaze seemed to linger on you a while longer, before he quietly walked towards the kitchen counter, apparently meaning to get himself a drink, just some water.

Because you greeted every distraction you could get at the moment, you decided to watch him bustle around instead of trying to focus on work. And what a perfect distraction he was, looking entirely adorable, his hair a little mussed and rumpled with sleep, careful with every single one of his steps, clumsily trying to open the cap of the water bottle, grumbling - probably about the fact his hands were absolutely pissing him off.

He had not paid your presence any more mind up until that point, but eventually gave up on the bottle cap, walked towards you and handed you the bottle with a pleading (albeit very tired) look. Stephen didn't speak his request out loud, but he didn't really need to – usually you liked having him ask and say 'Please' because it annoyed him to go the extra mile of niceties, though once in a while you had mercy.

You opened it for him in the blink of an eye and carefully returned it to his hands.

“Thanks”, he muttered. For a moment you thought, he might just have a sip and leave again. But then you noticed that he drank while staying real close by your seat and tried to catch a glimpse of what you were working on – it wasn't much, just a few scribbles on the screen, but still seemed to make him curious.

"That looks... not like something I'd expect from an actual graphic designer", he worded politely, though his cockiness seeped through, regardless of his exhausted state, “Let me guess. Couldn't get any sleep?”

"Nope, my body decided to betray me and I couldn't fall asleep. Now I'm just... here, doing work, because I might as well be productive", you sighed, obviously not planning to tell him about your frustration with another kind of handiwork, “But you can see how well that's going. It looks pathetic.”

"Is the couch getting too uncomfortable perhaps?", Stephen wondered. You almost snorted. It was definitely not the couch bothering you. “And by the way that looks, I doubt you'll get any further with your creativity tonight.”

"Yeah well, just a couple more days of suffering and Christine will be back and then I can finally go home to my own bed, while you can get on her nerves instead", you therefore replied, paying him a tired smile in response, trying to match his teasing nature, “Or she on yours. Probably both.”

"Already tired of playing caretaker?", Stephen joked, placed one of his bandaged hands on your shoulder and squeezed it gently, “And here I thought you liked me.”

"Don't blame me for thinking you are a horrible patient", you rolled your eyes at him, "Are you gonna bother me much longer or may I go back to work?"

"Actually, let me be the reasonable one for once. I have an idea", Stephen contemplated and by the way his tone suddenly shifted, you were almost expecting it to be a very suggestive one.

"How about you stop working and come join me in bed? You need some rest too, considering you'll have to deal with me for a few more days. There's space enough for the two of us, it's much more comfortable than the couch and maybe the presence of another human being will allow you and me both to finally get some sleep. I call that a win-win.”

You tried real hard to keep a neutral look on your face, not giving away that you were somewhat entertained by the suggestion, but also slightly confused.

Had you expected this coming from Stephen? No, certainly not. You didn't mind, but were still conflicted, because you couldn't tell whether it was actually meant to be so suggestive or just an innocent offer. Maybe he was really just trying to accommodate you in order for you to have a good rest, since he was the one getting on your nerves so very often.

Though it did sound like he wanted you near too, as if it would also help him to get some better sleep as well.

Stephen looked worried when you didn't answer immediately, like he feared he had made you uncomfortable. In truth he had simply rendered you speechless.

You caught yourself somewhere amidst the awkward silence between you. Instead of giving him an answer he was most certainly dreading, you let your actions speak, closing all of your programs and shutting off your laptop.

It was a silent agreement, but he sure understood.

It wouldn't do any harm, would it? Sleeping next to Stephen might be nice, just to have the comfort and warmth of another person might be enough to actually lull you to sleep, and it wasn't like this was crossing any more boundaries along the lines of friendship, considering you had jerked him off two days ago without a second thought.

Sharing a bed was nothing worth mentioning in contrast.

Your only concern was your current sexual frustration, something that might be intensified by the presence of a very attractive man and the proximity you'd get to enjoy while sleeping in the same bed – you would definitely not try to masturbate next to Stephen and if you were lucky enough, then maybe sleeping next to him would end up being just as relaxing as a possible orgasm.

Well, apparently you were going to find out.

As soon as you got settled into bed next to Stephen, sheets and pillows smelling delightfully fresh, of course a little like him, you let yourself be embraced by the warmth of the blanket immediately, sinking into the soft mattress. Heavenly. Definitely better than the couch, though the choice of furniture had certainly not been the underlying issue anyways.

Laying in a comfortable bed, suddenly feeling the dead tired weight of your limbs and your eyes dropping as well, you stopped worrying altogether.

There was not even a whim of discomfort in this moment, even though you hadn't shared a bed with anyone for months. Especially sharing it with Stephen, you had expected to find it perhaps odd, but now that you lay there – it was just fine. The exhaustion did its part.

You bid good night to one another and it took you mere minutes after closing your eyes until you were drifting off...

•

You could have sworn you had fallen asleep laying on your back, with an appropriate amount of distance between two people considered friends, but in your process of awakening you quickly noticed something was a little off.

Apparently you had rolled over onto your side at some point during the night, which wasn't that seldom. It was just a lot more comfortable than sleeping on your back. But that wasn't all.

You also undeniably found yourself in a warm embrace that wasn't just a blanket on top of you but an arm draped over your form and a warm body pressing up to your backside.

Oh lord.

Getting spooned in the morning had sure not been on your list for the day (or at all, as of lately), but you didn't bother to complain or even make the slightest attempt of moving away, no matter how much the initial realization startled you. Having Stephen near was kinda nice, more than you could have imagined.

It didn't feel wrong.

As this was probably the only cuddle you were going to get for a long while, you might as well enjoy it. It made you wonder though. He had likely just embraced you by accident, subconciously snuggling up to the one thing in his bed, but you wondered what his reaction might be like if he woke and noticed what was going on.

Would he be startled or entirely unfazed? Had it perhaps not been a subconcious decision at all? What if he had done this on purpose? What if he had wanted to hold you, feel another body close to his? Maybe that had been the reason for his invitation in the first place. But right now you couldn't find yourself to care too much about any ulterior motives and just let it happen.

Focusing on the sensations around and within you, you came to a few more realizations.

Stephen was a furnace, his presence alone incredibly warm. There was something comforting about his embrace, it was a protective but gentle hold, and you could probably get used to being cuddled in the morning by someone like him.

However, and worst of all – it was enough to turn you on instantly, to have his warm body pressed up to yours, the way he had claimed you all for himself, how right it felt.

You wanted to damn yourself for agreeing to his offer in the first place as it brought you into such a precarious position right now, but then again... you wouldn't want to risk missing the experience, would you? Besides that, it would never happen another time and you should enjoy it while it lasted – though if you both consented, perhaps it might not be the last time for you after all.

You greeted that idea. But this certainly crossed a boundary, a different one than having jerked him off. Allowing Stephen a sexual favor, for this one time, had been a friendly deed. You had wanted to make him feel better, because you cared for him, and you had accomplished just that.

But now, with his arm around you and you wishing to be able to experience this more often, you became uncomfortably aware that maybe being just friends would not be enough for you.

Because you wanted more. So much more. Especially right now.

It didn't help that Stephen was shifting behind you, drawing his arm around you tighter, pressing up to your back, his warm breath tickling your nape, obviously still fast asleep...

Your heart hammered in your chest, a familiar lust rushing to your loins, and you squirmed in interest, cautious to not press back into him in order to not accidentally wake him up. Because if you did and he became aware of what was going on, he would likely pull back and then this perfect moment would be over.

Or maybe not. But could you risk that?

If you surrendered to your own desire here, you might never be able to look Stephen in the eye ever again. Jerking him off had been a well-meant favor. Masturbating next to him would entirely be for your own gain and just wrong. But the temptation of doing something forbidden, the thought of maybe being discovered by Stephen... undeniably did something to you.

It wasn't like he had to know. For as long as he wouldn't wake, you'd be safe. It's not like you would use him for your own pleasure – no, he was just there and his presence was more than enough to feed your arousal. The rest, you could do yourself.

A little drowsy from sleep, you slid your hand down the pajama pants, over your underwear and eventually finding your evident excitement, letting fingers rub over yourself through the material. Seemed like this part of you was responding quite eagerly too.

God, with only noticing how touch-starved Stephen had been, you apparently had forgotten how starved for attention and desperate you were.

Alas, if you started touching yourself now, it would be twice as awkward for the man behind you to wake up and find you like that, but being so aroused, being so embraced too, you allowed to just let this take its toll.

Slightly ashamed, your cheeks burning with heat, breathing faster, you slipped your fingers under the remaining layer of clothing, brushing over your naked arousal, allowing yourself just a tiny bit of pleasure.

Going on like this, maybe for a handful of minutes, your fingers busy working between your thighs, trailing the spots that made you feel just right, trying hard to not shift or push back against Stephen, to not make too much noise, to not moan at how utterly excited you were and how your own touch might just be enough to finally get you to the edge, you nearly found yourself forgetting about being in a presence of another person.

Unsurprisingly so, it scared the shit out of you when Stephen suddenly stirred and moved, gently placing his bandaged hand on your forearm, a very definite sign that he was awake.

Oh no.

You stopped the movements immediately and by god, another hole in the ground opening up and swallowing you whole would have been great now. Your face must have literally been flaring red in your current state of embarrassment, burning with heat, and your entire body tensed. Rather awkwardly, you tried to remain as still as you could, pretending that you had not just touched yourself.

But he wasn't a fool, obviously. You sure were, hoping this would go unnoticed. What in heaven's name had you been thinking? And what was going to happen now?

Was he urging you to stop, but wouldn't mention it to you, letting the weight of silence consume the moment and ruin your arousal? Maybe he'd just let the moment pass and you could continue on to be friendly with each other, without ever demanding to talk about this? You'd greet that.

But could there be any chance he might just be okay with this? What if he'd be disgusted, resentful or would ridicule and tease you about this forever on?

You wished for the whole world to come crashing down just about now and spare you the embarrassment...

But then he spoke up, with the low rumble of his voice, warm breath brushing against the back of your neck, something that didn't help your arousal at all. "You know, you could have just told me that you're also desperate and need some relief. I wouldn't have judged."

"M'sorry", you sighed, pulling your hand out of your pants in utmost shame, Stephen's closeness and his careful touch on your arm burning into your skin, "I know I shouldn't have... but... I've just been struggling with getting off... and... I guess being held by you... just kinda did it for me. Not to say that you turn me on, I just... god, this is ridiculous."

"Oh come on, is it really so ridiculous?”, Stephen hummed, sounding very amused about this situation as a whole, "You jerked me off, remind you not that long ago, and this... is actually kind of hot. Having an adorable little minx like you in my bed trying to get off, too afraid to admit that they're turned on, too shy to ask for assistance. Sounds like a dream to me."

"More like a nightmare, being caught in the act", you turned your head to smush it further into the pillow. Why were you even having such a casual conversation right now? You, in this odd state between complete embarrassment and relentless arousal, and Stephen, having woken up to this, seemingly unfazed.

You should have just rolled out of bed and left the situation, hoping that Stephen would never mention it again and spare you any further shame.

Perhaps it was only fair – you had accidentally witnessed Stephen trying to masturbate and now he had discovered you. You were in an odd way even. Not that it made this any better.

"Do you want any help with that? I owe you something, don't I?", he asked, instead of letting it rest though, his voice still gravelly and low from sleep, his hand brushing over your arm in a comforting motion. Speaking of being suggestive...

"Fuck all the way off. You don't owe me anything", you replied, of course. You didn't want Stephen to feel like he had to offer you anything in return for the favor you had so willingly given, even though you obviously didn't actually mind the idea of it. Damn it.

He wasn't the type of person to be entirely selfless, so with offering something like this... maybe he wasn't opposed to the idea of being in more sexual situations with you and you didn't really know what to think about this.

Though you might not want to go as far as having sex with the man already (if ever) and while his hands might be a bit of an issue, you had no doubts it would be worth it, whatever he had in mind.

God, if Christine ever found out about this... she'd probably make fun of both of you, thinking you were absolutely ridiculous - which you no doubt were, dancing around each other and clutching onto the boundaries of a normal friendship, when you could perhaps be so much more if you were just bold and brave enough.

"Would it make this situation better if I wanted to help you?", Stephen admitted to you, sounding unsure, "I wasn't lying when I said I think it's hot."

"And we won't talk to anyone about this?", you asked.

"Not a word. Promise", Stephen confirmed, pressing up to your body from behind, his breath still ghosting over your neck, sending a whole different kind of shiver through you when his lips softly brushed your nape, "I'm just afraid my fingers currently won't be good enough to please you. But I have an idea."

"And if I may ask, what kind of idea might that be?" Curiosity killed the cat after all. You were still so horny you might have accepted any offer of pleasure, even though unsure whether it was wise, but you were looking forward to pick a piece of his mind, to find out what filthy thoughts he might harvest. He seemed so willing to do this, for whatever reason – and you yourself began wondering if all of this was just a dream, made up by your subconscious desires.

"You'll figure it out. Turn over", Stephen spoke and eased his embrace – and so you did, rolling onto your other side, facing him, who was watching you with a mischievous glint in his eyes and a rather soft sleepy smile. You couldn't possibly tell what was crossing his thoughts and looked at each other for a quiet moment, since you didn't know what to expect or how to act next.

“If we're going to do this my way, you need to strip. At least get out of your pants”, was the subtle order that followed up – and so you did, even though followed by a little awkwardness, deciding to shuffle out of your pajama pants and underwear, still hidden from his gaze by the blanket resting over you. It didn't save you from feeling slightly self-conscious, a thousand thoughts running through your head.

What was he planning? What was he going to suggest next? Why was he doing this for you? Would you like it? And what would that mean for your friendship?

"Don't be shy. Come get on top of me", Stephen announced the third step and leisurely turned onto his back, appearing oddly expectant. You faltered, eyes widening at his suggestion. He wasn't expecting you to... he wasn't asking for sexual intercourse, was he?

Noticing your second guessing, his gaze softened and he smiled at you, assuredly. “You can trust me. If you don't like it, we can stop any time. But I'm thinking you might just enjoy it.”

“I just...”, you began. Your curiosity was catching up on you. You would have liked to find out.

“Come on up. I'll be nice”, Stephen's smile turned into that self-satisfied grin you knew him for and whatever it was that had you convinced in the end, you decided to surrender yourself. He had given into you mere days ago and so easily, putting so much trust in you, convinced you were meaning well – and in return, you'd allow him the same trust.

So you did as he suggested, slowly pushing back the blankets to awkwardly scramble onto Stephen's lap, finding your usual confidence whisked away, oddly exposed. The man's gaze was raking over your body and for a moment you quietly watched him in the soft morning light, his smug face, pupils dilating with desire as he consumed the sight of you.

What now, you asked yourself, bracing your palms against his stomach, feeling his warmth, the subtle movement of his breathing, perched on firm thighs. Was he waiting for you to make the next move? You had no doubt that if you grinded down on him, it would feel good. Perhaps you'd even get him to harden as well, adding to his pleasure as much as to your own.

But something told you it wasn't quite what he had in mind – he was meaning to give you a favor.

"Good. Place your hands on the headboard instead", he instructed you next, waiting for you to do just that, "And now you come further up here."

You swallowed hard as you stared back down at him and the clear indication he had just made. "Do you mean I should...? Like... on your... face?"

A sharp and quick "Yes" was the only respond you got. So that's what was he had planned.

Stephen was apparently very pleased with his idea and before you had a chance to second-guess, he snuck his arms around your waist, pulling you forward instantly, urging you to shuffle up until your knees were resting on the pillow, close to his head, and you were literally hovering over him, holding yourself up on the headboard.

You suddenly didn't dare to look at him and closed your eyes instead, contemplating just how unreal this situation was. Kneeling over him, you could feel Stephen's warm breath on your most private parts, his head between your thighs, and honestly, even that alone seemed too crazy to be true.

But this was really happening, wasn't it?

Only a broken moan escaped you when you suddenly felt Stephen's mouth on you, hot and welcoming, gently teasing, carefully sucking on your sensitive swollen sex, tongue lazily testing and probing all of you, to the point all your insecurities and doubts were whisked away.

"Fucking... fuck", you shuddered, clinging a little tighter onto the headboard immediately, careful not to crush the man under your own weight, but god... his mouth felt so good on you and Stephen was unashamed to taste every bit, exploring you, sometimes with the flat of his tongue, sometimes only giving you little flicks, paying more attention to those spots he had quickly figured how much you liked and humming in delight whenever he drew a reaction out of you.

You had known Stephen had a wicked tongue, judging by his snarky comments most of the time, but only now were you truly figuring out how skilled it was as well. He was downright devouring you, slow strokes of his flat tongue up and down, his mouth tasting you seemingly everywhere, sucking and licking and kissing, his tongue easing its way along every dip and curve, not leaving a single part of your arousal unattended.

Apparently he was trying to drive you mad too – just the right level of intensity, switching things up to keep you on edge, pausing, so you could only feel his breath ghosting over you, and you had to admit that you kinda deserved this torturous sweetness after having being cruel to Stephen himself last time. But god, how thorough and driven he was, all this to make you feel good.

At this point, it seemed a lot like the man wasn't too concerned with being smothered by you at all, hungrily pulling you further towards his own face, tasting you, lapping on you like a starving man, his heavy breath and scruffy beard tickling you. Nothing seemed to dampen his enthusiasm.

You couldn't remembered ever having someone as eager as him between your legs before and sank your head against the wall, unable to stop moaning, giving yourself over to the purest pleasure sparking within, Stephen's sinful mouth taking care of you like no one else ever had.

A whine left your lips just as Stephen's mouth parted from you, continuing to spread soft kisses and playful little bites on you inner thighs – as much as he could reach of them anyways – and you were so close to just grab him by the hair and lead him back to your aching arousal, if it meant he would continue to lick you.

It was just as intense when he returned to taste you with his tongue again.

Stephen didn't hold you back from grinding against his face either and you rolled your hips in time for the greedy laps of his tongue, chasing your orgasm just like this.

And when you came, gods, did you come hard.

It was seriously unreal, your entire body was suddenly trembling hard, you could feel the heavy jitters of your thighs taking over all of your body, moaning and panting, your brain was literally on fire, pleasure surging like electricity through your veins - and if that wasn't the literal definition of a mind-blowing orgasm, you didn't know what was.

You couldn't believe your own luck. A heavy weight was lifted off your chest, you felt carefree and light, floating in nothingness for a moment, mind entirely blank.

You must have carried a quite loopy smile, looking down at Stephen, having pulled back enough to let him breathe, not wanting to smother him altogether - because it would honestly have been a shame to get rid of him now.

But Stephen took it like a champ, entirely unfazed, just smiled back at you, hair still tousled from sleep, cheeks reddened, lips swollen red, mouth and chin glistening with saliva and slick of your arousal, a filthy reminder of what had just happened.

He looked damn pleased with himself and admittedly so, you were more than pleased with him as well.

Too weak in the knees to gracefully get off Stephen, you nearly tumbled backwards on top of him, almost crushing him with your awkward shuffling around. Your head was still a little too scrambled to word your satisfaction, but you were sure Stephen understood you quite well, even without words.

He seemed smug. Amused. There was this glimmer in his eyes as he watched you climbing off his body. You felt the urge to simply whack him with a pillow for his grin alone, but reconsidered.

Let him have a little joy. A little satisfaction. He seemed at ease and you loved to see it.

Coming to lay beside Stephen again, utterly tired and probably ready for another hour of sleep now that he had knocked this orgasm out of you, you found your own kind of enjoyment. Almost a sweet moment, if one ignored the fact you had just sat on his face mere minutes ago, and one you were willing to make the most of, for as long as it would last.

Instead of simply fleeing the scene like last time, you closed the distance to cuddle up to him, placing your head on his chest and a hand to his stomach, happy with the fact that the man accepted your affections and went on to hold you in his embrace. He seemed content and as you shut your eyes, fully welcoming his comforting warmth to lull you back to sleep, you swore you could feel him press a soft kiss to the crown of your head.

For now, it was more than enough. But who knew where this little encounter would eventually take the two of you?

#k writes #doctor strange #stephen strange #stephen strange x reader #marvel fanfiction #stephen strange x you #doctor strange smut #stephen strange fic #stephen strange x gn reader #x gn reader #stephen strange x y/n #gender neutral reader

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