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#stephen strange x gn!reader
sobeautifullyobsessed · 7 months
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Okay, but seriously...
Are there any Doctor Strange fan fic readers left that have the patience & interest to read multi-chapter fics that exist primarily to tell a story, and not just to deliver reader insert smut?
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arkytiorwrites · 1 year
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How the Avengers Would React…
To You Hiding and Injury, No Matter How Small
616 Stephen Strange x Reader
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You and Stephen had been squirreled away in the Kamar Taj library for two weeks, doing everything in your considerable power to find a way to reverse the memory spell Stephen had cast for Spiderman. Stephen had been fine with leaving it be but you insisted that at least he, Mrs. Stark, young Morgan Stark, Happy Hogan, and a pair of teens named MJ and Ned remember evenething about New York's webslinger.
"OW! Mother trucker that hurts more than a buttcheek on a stick!” you swore from behind your wall of stacked books.
"What is it?” Stephen demanded, standing and using the Clock of Levitation to get around the books and hover anxiously at your side. ”What's wrong?"
"Paper cut. I'd take being stabbed over one of these little fuckers any day,” you grumbled as you squeezed the wound to your right finger to stem the bleeding.
"Haven’t they suffered enough?" the older sorcerer hissed as he glared balefully at the tome currently resting on your lap.
"Stephen, seriously. Take a chill pill, it's a papercut. I've had worse,” the you snorted as you pulled a Band-Aid from a pocket dimension and wrapped the offending cut.
"That doesn't mean you should suffer at all,” he argued back, carefully taking your hands and checking them over for any wounds you might have missed as he sat beside her.
"Ma cheri, it's sweet of you to worry, but you can't protect me from the world," you chided, slipping your hands from his shaky grasp to gently hold his face, the scratch of his beard tickling your palms.
"I can damn well try," he fired heatedly.
Cocking your head curiously to the side, you becan to get the feeling that there was a deeper problem behind the Master of the New York Sanctum's worry and over-protectiveness.
"Stephen, babe, you never worried this much before 2014 Thanos and the Snap. What's really goin' on, sweetheart?”
The former neurosurgeon remaind silent and stubbornly stared at his boots.
"Stephen? Come on, baby. I can't help you if you don't talk to me. I'm many things, but telepathic ain't one of them” you pressed.
"You were in a coma," the doctor finally whispered. "For five weeks, and there was no way I could help you. Nothing I did helped you heal or wake up, I couldn't even kill Thanos myself, let alone protect you because of that dawn flood. You were bleeding so much, darling. And I couldn't get to you!”
Terrified, angry tears were trailing down the doctor’s cheeks when he finally looked up, making it clearer than ever how much you meant to him.
"Oh, baby boy,” your murmured, heart breaking in your chest. "Come 'ere."
Stephen willingly curled against you, resting his head on your shoulder and holding you as tightly as he dared while you ran your fingers soothingly through his dark hair.
"Honey, I took that risk because I knew Tony needed a diversion to get the Stones from that raisin-faced bitch. I can heal from anything. Immortal, remember? I'm not leaving you anytime soon, gentil garçon, I promise. Death knows better than to fuck with me,” you reassured him, softly pressing a kiss to his forehead.
You two spent several hours curled up on that spot, you quietly humming, rocking , and petting his hair as you continued your research. Stephen remained tucked in your arms, re-enforcing in his mind that his darling was safe and whole.
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ro-is-struggling · 1 year
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Existential Crisis || Stephen Strange x Reader
Summary: After Wong sent you and Stephen to investigate the multiverse you begin to worry about the idea that there are thousands of versions of you. Unluckily for Stephen, he is the one who has to endure your existential crisis.
Warnings: this is kind of a crack fic so humor, Stephen being annoyed by the reader, chaotic and dumb gn!reader (I think I didn’t use any pronouns or anything like that but if I did let me know so I can change that!), a supernatural reference (if you get it you get a virtual cookie) 
English is not my first language
Word count: 1700
Notes: I don’t have a lot of time to write because of school and stuff, but the other day I had this stupid weird dream that inspired this fic so I’m sorry if it doesn’t make much sense. Also I think I’m developing a crush on Dr Strange so I may be open to take request for him
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"Why are we doing this again?" you asked for the hundredth time, your head emerging from the piles of books on the table in search of Stephen. Your mentor looked at you wearily, letting out a tired sigh as he closed the book he was reading with more force than necessary.
"The multiverse is a concept we know frighteningly little. Wong sent us here to do research so we'll be ready if something bad happens again." He explained to you for the hundredth time, cursing Wong for putting the most annoying apprentice under his supervision. Stephen recognized that you had great potential, but to his bad luck it was buried under layers and layers of clumsiness and hyperactivity that made you an unbearable companion for this kind of task. 
"Why can't he do it?" you complained once again, flipping disinterestedly through the ancient book in front of you. "Why do we have to do all the boring tasks?"
"Because he's the sorcerer supreme." Stephen spoke without even looking up at you, choosing to focus his energy on what he was reading and not on the urge he had to use his magic to shut you up for a while. You were getting on his nerves and he didn't know how much more of this he could take. Usually he had no problem with spending long periods of time researching, reading alone in the Sanctum Sanctorum library late into the night. But this time he wasn't alone, and your constant nonsensical comments did nothing but break his concentration. 
You let out a grunt in protest, but said nothing more for a while. The graphics on a page of the book you were reading distracted you. It described an intricate magic that even though it had nothing to do with the multiverse caught your attention anyway. You didn't quite understand what it was about and you were sure you wouldn't be able to conjure something like that in a million years, but you read it anyway. It was clear that it was not intended for the eyes of a simple apprentice like you and that only increased your desire to continue reading, feeling like a little kid stealing cookies from a jar when you knew you shouldn't have.
"Am I even authorized to be reading all this stuff?" you finally asked, curious as to why they had let a mere apprentice have access to such information.
"Normally, no," Stephen said without looking up from his book. "I guess Wong wanted to get rid of you for a while. Or torture me. Or both." He added with a mocking tone, a subtle smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You rolled your eyes, knowing he wasn't serious. You had that kind of relationship where you teased him and he pretended to hate you, but you knew deep down that wasn't the case. In fact, you were convinced that Stephen Strange was a big softie on the inside and was just using that bitter, sarcastic personality as a shield. So far, though, you were the only person who supported that theory. 
"Aren't you guys afraid of what I could do with all this information?" you insisted, finding that his answer did not satisfy your curiosity. "Like, I could easily steal all this knowledge and turn to the dark side or sell it to bad guys.... I could be your next big threat."
"You?" Stephen spoke with an amused tone, looking up and down at you as if he found your words ridiculous. "Yeah, no. I think we're good."
"What is that supposed to mean?" you asked with annoyance. "You don't think I'm threatening?" You didn't even know why you were getting angry. What Stephen was saying about you wasn't a bad thing. There was nothing wrong with not having a threatening side to you, but for some reason it bothered you. Maybe it was the tone in which he said it. Or maybe your bored brain was looking for anything to distract itself. Probably both. 
"You're too kind and clueless to be a threat," Stephen replied to you, finally looking up from his book to face you. "To sell information you first have to successfully steal it and you can't hide anything from me."
"Yeah, maybe… But what if there's an evil version of me out there in the multiverse that kidnaps me in order to take my place and steal from you, huh?"
"I'll say that if they can travel through the multiverse without America then there's probably not much they can take from us."
"No but seriously what if evil versions of us kidnap us to take our place? We should have a code word that only we know so we can be sure it's us and not one of them."
This time it was Stephen who rolled his eyes, letting out a tired sigh as he gathered his patience to deal with you. You looked at him with big eyes full of pride in yourself for having thought of that potential danger. Stephen admitted that there might be a possibility of something like this happening—after all, there was a lot they didn't know about the multiverse—, but he didn't think it was an imminent danger. Besides, he wasn't willing to acknowledge that you might be right about something after the time you'd spent bothering him, so he ignored your concerns for the time being.
"What about ‘Y/N please shut up and keep reading’?" teased Stephen, but you didn't care.
"No, it has to be something organic, something that'll flow naturally in a conversation so as to not cause any suspicions."
"Y/N stop that?"
"No, you say that way to often I would never know what you mean. C'mon Stephen, take this seriously!" you complained at his lack of creativity, the sarcasm in his voice going over your head. 
Stephen enjoyed the moment of silence that formed while you thought, amused at the way you mumbled under your breath, scratching your brain for a word you could use as code. You were taking this thing too seriously, but he let you continue because at least you weren't bothering him. He preferred your brain to entertain itself imagining hypothetical scenarios and not at his expense. 
However, he was starting to get bored too. He had spent hours locked in the library and was no closer to understanding the multiverse than when he started. He was tired and looking at the pile of books he had yet to read it was clear that he would not get out of there any time soon without your help. As much as he valued peace and quiet, he valued his sleep more so he decided to pull you out of the little trance you had been in for the last 20 minutes to ask for your help. 
"C'mon Y/N this is stupid."
"You also say that a lot" you complained again at his lack of creativity. At this point you were sure he was just repeating phrases he said to you on a daily basis. "God, it's like you're not even trying!"
"I mean this is stupid and you should get back to work" Stephen explained more clearly. "We're never going to get out of here if you-" he tried to put you back to work, but was interrupted by your shout of joy.  
"I got it!" you exclaimed with a smile of triumph. "Poughkeepsie!" you revealed with pride in your creativity, certain it was the perfect code. 
Stephen looked at you with a dead stare, his eyes fixed on you as if you were a camera and he was Jim Halpert on The Office, waiting for you to realize how ridiculous your words sounded. But the seconds ticked by and your smile of triumph didn't wipe off your face.
"Poughkeepsie?" he repeated, trying to awaken some sense in you. It was the most absurd word you could have come up with and he couldn't think of a single context in which it would come up naturally in conversation in case he suspected something was wrong with you. There was no way you were serious.
"Yeah! Isn't it perfect?"
"Y/N..." Stephen was going to tell you what he really thought, but then he realized that if he did, you'd be distracted by another code word and he'd never get out of there. So he swallowed his opinions and gave you a fake smile. "Yes, it's great But you know what would be even greater? Finish the research Wong asked us to do."
"Oh I finished reading my pile of books like half an hour ago" you explained with an innocent smile and Stephen looked at you in disbelief. 
"And...?" he insisted when he saw that you didn't say anything. "Did you find anything?"
"No" you denied with certainty. "Well, there was this old book that made a reference to a secret diary that supposedly belonged to some weird wizard that dedicated his life to investigate the multiverse, but it sounded like a made up legend so I didn't bring it up. Do you think it's useful?"
The way you asked that question as if they weren't desperate for any kind of information that would allow them to understand the logic of the multiverse a little more made Stephen want to bang his head against the table repeatedly until he lost consciousness. Sometimes he couldn't believe that someone with so much talent and such a bright future in the mystic arts was so clueless and clumsy. He swore it was harder to teach you to have a minimal amount of common sense than it was to teach you magic. Even though you barely listened to him on both fronts, you seemed to have a natural gift for magic. But thinking critically and paying attention to the important things, that was a whole separate issue. 
"Where did you read about this secret diary?" Stephen asked, letting out a long sigh of frustration.
"Oh in like the first book that I opened."
Stephen looked at you with tired eyes, taking a moment to imagine all the ways he could make you pay for wasting his time before answering you. Taking a long breath to calm his nerves, he said, "Next time you're letting me decide what's important and what isn't."
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make-me-imagine · 1 year
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Careful What You Wish For
13 Days of Halloween: Day 13
Plot: When Stephen decides he wants to make the sanctum more holiday ready for you, his spell backfires when all of the Halloween decorations come to life.
Pairing: Stephen Strange x Gn!Reader
Warnings: Violence, blood, knives, mentions of death (of fake creatures). Spiders. Snake. Brief clown mention. Mild cursing.
Words: 2.8k
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Walking towards the sanctum library, you could hear Stephen reciting something, as a glow came from the room.
Feeling curious, you peaked your head in, seeing him standing over a fake witch decoration while reciting the spell.
You rose your brow as you stepped fully into the room.
"What are you doing?" You asked abruptly.
Stephen turned to look at you and smirked "Testing out a new spell."
You approached him, looking down at the witch, and seeing a pile of Halloween decorations nearby.
"A spell to do what exactly?"
"I'm attempting to enchant the decorations."
You glanced between him and he witch "Why?"
"'Tis the season."
"That doesn't tell me anything, Stephen what are you really attempting to do, and why do I have a bad feeling about it?"
He chuckled lowly as he turned fully towards you "You sound like Wong."
"That's not a bad thing, he's always right."
"He is not."
"Stephen." You said with a stern tone.
He rolled his eyes lightly "I thought you were excited for Halloween and wanted to decorate the Sanctum?"
"Wait, are you doing this because of what I said?"
He motioned his head lightly in response before he spoke softly "I want you to enjoy the holidays here, with me."
You smiled, feeling touched at his actions. You let out a soft chuckle as you spoke "I am excited about Halloween, and I did decorate the Sanctum, I don't need them to walk around the sanctum on their own. I'm enjoying my time here with you perfectly well."
He smiled but leaned closer, squinting "But you have to admit, it would be hilarious if Wong entered his office only to find a giant enchanted spider waiting for him."
You repressed your smile "Stephen." You warned again.
"Picture it."
Failing to repress the smile, it stretched across your face. You shook your head lightly. "Okay, it would be hilarious, but I still have a bad feeling about it."
"Oh come on, it'll be fun, I promise."
You sighed and shrugged your head "Fine, but if it goes wrong, it's not on me."
He smiled as he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "Deal"
--- --- --- ---
Humming to yourself as you walked down the halls, you stopped as you heard a scraping noise nearby. Frowning you walked further down the hall and peered around the corner.
Your heart jolted as you saw a tall hooded figure at the end of the hall.
"Hey!" You called out, feeling your defenses rise.
As the figure spun around, you felt your body jolt before realization fell over you.
The tall grim reaper decoration swayed awkwardly, it's feet scraping along the ground. A tall scythe held in it's hands, as it's empty eyes stared back at you.
You let out a soft sigh, knowing Stephen got exactly what he wanted. A quick scare, too bad he wasn't here to see it.
Looking one last time at the decoration, you shook your head with a soft laugh. Turning, you continued down the hall, wondering how many of the decorations were enchanted.
Hearing the scraping continue, it took you a moment to realize it was getting louder. Stopping, you realized it was right behind you. Rolling your eyes, you spun around, flinching slightly as the figure stood right behind you.
Your eyes scanned over it, before you saw the very real metal sheen of the scythe in it's hands. You frowned, as you felt a bad feeling rise in your gut.
Suddenly, the reaper moved with a speed you weren't expecting as it raised the scythe before swinging at you. Jumping back with a yelp, as you barely dodged the blade, the reaper quickly attempting to attack you again.
Crouching down, you grabbed the decorations legs and yanked them, causing it to fall backwards. As it fell, you ripped the scythe from it's hands before cutting the head off the figure. The whole body went limp as the head rolled down the hall.
You let out a heavy breath as you looked at the very real scythe in your hands. Your heart was pounding heavily in your chest as adrenaline ran through you.
Looking around with a rush of fear and frustration you called out "Stephen!"
Hearing no reply, you ran through the sanctum, searching for him. Finally finding him, you rushed into the room, breathless.
Seeing you, Stephen stood up, concern lacing his face and voice "What's wrong?"
"Whats wrong is that one of your enchanted decorations just tried to kill me." You held out the scythe as you spoke.
Stephen frowned as he walked up to you, grabbing the scythe "The grim reaper."
"Yeah! And the Grim Reaper just tried to cut me in half with that very real scythe!"
"Where is it now?"
"I took care of it" You breathed out "I cut its head off and it went limp, like it died."
"That's concerning."
"Concerning?!"
"Alright, it's very concerning." He admitted, setting the scythe down.
"How many decorations did you enchant exactly?"
He looked back at you with a slightly startled look "A few."
"How many is a few?"
"A lot."
You closed your eyes and let out a sigh "Oh great."
Hearing a loud thud upstairs, you both looked up, before locking eyes. Stephen quickly left the room, and you followed, wondering what you were about to find.
As you crept upstairs cautiously, you followed the sound of thudding into one of the rooms. Slowly entering the room, you heard clicking sounds from behind table.
Watching with baited breath as the table moved slightly with a thud, before you saw a large spider made of bones crawl out from behind the table.
You felt your chest clench as you let out a soft breath "You've gotta be kid-"
As the spider let out a loud hiss it leapt int the air towards you, you flinched back in fear as Stephen swung out his arm, casting a spell. You watched as the spider fell to the ground in various pieces, all of the bones clanking against the floor.
You let out a large breath as you shook your head, as if dispelling the fear you just felt. "Is that the spider you wanted to scare Wong with?"
He looked back at you and rose his brow "No."
Your face dropped, your voice holding a sense of defeat "There's another one somewhere?"
He shrugged his head "Yeah."
You let out a soft groan as you turned around into the doorway. You let out a startled gasp as you were met with large angry eyes.
As the tall green witch let out a wicked laugh and grabbed you, you felt your feet lift off the ground as you were pulled out of the room, and over the banister, hanging above the stairwell.
Stephen ran out of the room behind you, as his cloak flew off his shoulders and towards you.
Feeling the cloak wrap itself around you, Stephen attempted to take out the witch, but it dogged his magic and let out a loud laugh as it yanked you down.
You let out a startled yell as you felt yourself drop, as the cloak attempting to pull you from the witches grasp. The witches grip was tight on you as her long fingernails dug into your skin as she and the cloak used you in a game of tug-of-war.
Seeing Stephen out of the corner of your eye preparing to disenchant the witch, you saw a large white object appear behind him.
"Stephen!" You yelled in warning.
Just as Stephen was about to cast his spell, a white sheet wrapped around him, as the ghost decoration pulled him towards the ground, binding his arms to his side.
As Stephen struggled against the ghost, you felt the witch yank you from the cloaks grasp as she began pulling you towards the window with a great speed.
Stephen, managing to free one of his hands from the sheet, repelled the ghost before throwing it into a closet and locking the door. Turning towards you he saw you being pulled towards the window.
"Y/n!" He yelled out, before disenchanting the witch.
As you felt yourself begin falling, you closed your eyes. A moment later you felt the cloak wrap itself around you, before lifting you back up to Stephen.
Landing back on the ground, you let out a sigh of relief, as Stephen pulled you to his chest.
"Are you alright?"
You nodded with a sigh "Yeah I'm aright."
Hearing a fast paced clicking sound, you and Stephen spun around to see the bone spider, a few legs down, running towards you.
Stephen reached out his hand towards the spider. You flinched as it turned to dust before disappearing entirely.
"Alright. This is ridiculous, I need to cast a disenchantment before this gets out of hand."
"Before?!"
He looked down at you and shrugged his head "Okay, before it gets worse."
Seeing him looking over your head, his eyes widened as he grabbed you, spinning you around, away from something.
Looking back, you saw a large clown decoration, knife in hand, lunging at Stephen. Knocking the clown back, you heard Stephen hiss in pain as the knife cut his arm.
The clown laughed merrily as it jumped around out of Stephens view. Preparing to run over to help Stephen, you let out a gasp as you were grabbed from behind. Feeling a sharp pain in your leg, you began to let out a yell, but felt a hand placed over your mouth, muffling your cry.
Looking back over your shoulder, you saw the smiling face of a scarecrow as it began dragging you down the hall. Looking down at your leg, you saw blood as the scarecrow pulled the knife from your thigh.
Swiping your legs, you knocked the scarecrow back. Spinning around, preparing to fight it, you felt goosebumps rise up your arms as the smiling face quickly changed to a angry frown.
As the scarecrow lifted the knife up, you spun, kicking your leg out, knocking the knife from it's grasp. Ignoring the pain in your leg, you lunged for the knife, grabbing it just before the scarecrow.
Spinning around, you swiped the knife, slicing open its chest as straw and cotton became visible.
The scarecrow let out a angry muffled groan, but seemed unaffected. Lunging at you, it grabbed your arms, holding the up, along with the knife.
Letting out a frustrated groan, you pushed the scarecrow away, kicking it towards the banister. As it stumbled, you reached out, grabbing it's head. You yelled out as you pulled it's head off before quickly tossing it over the banister. As the scarecrows body began spinning around wildly, you pushed it over the banister as well.
Hearing a thud nearby, you looked over to see the clown decoration fall to the ground as Stephen stumbled out into the hall. Looking over at you, he saw the knife in your hands, and then the blood coating your leg.
His eyes widened as he began to walk over to you "Are you alright?"
"I've been better" You winced as you met him.
As he got to you, you both froze as you heard a groaning sound. Turning to look behind you, your eyes cast to the ground at the end of the hall, as you saw half of a zombie slowly crawling towards you.
"You really enchanted all of the decorations didn't you?"
He nodded "Yep."
Suddenly from the floor below you, you heard a loud familiar shriek. You and Stephen looked at each other and he closed his eyes briefly before shaking his head.
"I know. Be careful what you wish for."
Walking over, the two of you peered down over the banister.
Seeing the limp body of a giant spider fly into the wall before hitting the ground, you saw a bewildered and scared Wong came into view. Looking around, he finally spotted the two of you above him.
"What is going on!?" He yelled up at the two of you
You quickly pointed at Stephen "He did it!"
He looked over at you with mild offense before sighing and looking back down at Wong "I'm handleing it!"
Wong looked past you and pointed "Zombie!?"
You looked over, seeing the zombie getting close. Stepping away, Stephen walked over to it before casting a spell.
You watched as the zombie, went limp and fell motionless to the ground.
Sighing, you walked past it cautiously, and down the stairs, meeting Wong on the landing.
Looking down at your leg he pointed "What did that?"
Hearing a soft padding nearby, you peered into the next room to see the headless scarecrow wandering around, bumping into walls.
"That."
He frowned before lifting his hands and casting a spell. You saw as the scarecrow went stiff before falling to the ground. "Animation enchantments, are always tricky, and risky!" He finished with a pointed look towards Stephen.
Stephen, walking past you made his way into the library "I'm going to cast the disenchantment!" He called back over his shoulder.
"You're just now doing that?" Wong asked angrily as he followed him.
"In his defense we've been a bit distracted." You said while following behind
Hearing a loud shriek, you jumped as you looked back behind you. Seeing a large banshee decoration flying around above you, you looked over your shoulder at Wong, who stared bewildered at it.
Looking back as it spotted you, and began to fly a you with a loud shriek, you turned and ran into the library.
Quickly, you and Wong closed the doors, just in time to hear the banshee smash against the doors with a loud thud.
You winced before looking back at Stephen. "Any time now."
As Stephen began reciting the spell, you walked further into the room, stopping, when you felt a sharp pain at your ankle.
Gasping as you looked down you saw a large black snake latched onto your ankle. Wong, running over, grabbed the snake, pulling it from your leg, before he tossed it into a large vase.
You gripped our ankle as blood trickled out of the bite marks. "Son of a bitch!" You complained as you hopped over to a chair.
Stephen looked back at you with concern, but you motioned your hand at him "Keep going!"
You watched Stephen cast his disenchantment as you heard the shriek of the banshee outside.
Frowning, you looked over at Wong, who had a similar look on his face, as you both began hearing a loud thudding from a nearby room.
As you looked at the doorway, the sound coming closer, you suddenly remember what had been in that room.
Standing up you muttered out "Oh no."
Stephen glanced over, remembering as well "Oh yes."
Wong looked over in confusion "What?"
Hearing the loud footsteps just outside the archway, you both looked over to see the large 15 foot tall skeleton step into view.
You stood still, mouth agape, as the skeleton looked around, casting it's eyes over you before stopping.
Suddenly, it arched back before letting out a loud roar before it came stomping towards you. You and Wong both fell into a defensive position, preparing to take out the large skeleton.
But as it grew closer, you watched as it suddenly went stiff before falling to the ground with a loud thud as the head of the skeleton popped off, ad rolled a few feet towards you, stopping just at your feet.
Letting out a soft gasp, you kicked the head away from you.
Hearing thuds and crashing sounds echo throughout the sanctum, you looked over at Stephen who put his hands down.
Looking over at you, he nodded "It's done."
"Are you sure?" Wong asked.
Walking over to the vase, he reached in and pulled out the now rubber snake before looking back over at Wong. "Yes, I'm positive."
You let out a sigh of relief as you finally let down your defenses. Locking your eyes with Stephen you spoke with an exhausted voice "Net time I say I have a bad feeling about something. Listen."
He smiled and walked over to you, pressing a kiss to your forehead "I promise." He looked down at your leg and frowned "Lets get those taken care of."
Wong stepped over, gently grabbing your elbow and pointing at Stephen.
"Ah ah. I will help Y/n. You go clean up your mess."
Stephen looked back at you and you just shrugged your head as you turned to follow Wong. "Always listen to Wong."
Stephen let out a soft chuckle as he shook his head. Walking over to the large skeleton, he stared down at it and let out a soft sigh.
Hearing quick clattering behind him, Stephen frowned as he spun around to see a large spider running at him. Letting out a soft yelp, he staggered back, before quickly destroying the spider.
Hearing laughter, he looked up to see Wong, hands up, laughing at him. You were behind him stifling your own laughter.
Wong nodded his head with amusement "Payback."
Stephen let out a sigh as he lowered his head, shaking it, as he turned away. "Yeah, I deserved that."
xx End xx
General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @caswinchester2000, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry
Marvel/Stephen Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney, @trashywritestrash, @groovy-lady, @marvelouslyme96, @supersourlemon13, @mochamoff, @simsiddy, @byersboys, @flourishandblotts-inc, @spuffyfan394, @agent-catfish-kenobi, @locke-writes, @cs-please, @soultrysworld, @a-lumos-in-the-nox, @creativitybeware, @that-marvel-simp, @gatefleet, @dominos-palast, @maellem, @multifandomfix, @lokidokieokie
Requested Taglist: @will-grammer, @le-green-lion
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jokatsuya · 1 year
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The Snowball
Dr. Strange x reader / Dr. Strange x Gn!reader
Wordcount: 1248
Warnings: mention of surgery, weapons, injuries
Summary: (Y/n) and Stephen are just leaving the hospital when Stephen brings (Y/n) to a certain action related to snow.
A/n: It's sooooo hard to find good pre-accident stories about our favorite doctor. I hope you like my little idea. Yours JoKatsuya
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>>The ER is a butcher shop.<<, complains Stephen, standing close to me and breathing in the fresh night air. Once again, a shift far too long has ended. Don't get me wrong, I love my job, but sometimes, despite all the passion, enough is enough.
It must have started snowing a while ago, as there is already a considerable amount of snow on the paths to the parking lots. Hopefully the roads are still somewhat clear.
>>Hey, this so-called "butcher shop" is important.<<, I defend my job and lightly punch him in the side with an admonishing look before continuing, >>Moreover, I've told you often enough not to call it that.<<
In response, he rolls his eyes before proceeding with the recap of his day though, >>Yeah yeah, whatever. But after what happened today, that term actually fits pretty well.<< This statement earns him an extremely skeptical look on my part.
Without paying much attention to my reaction, he places his hand on the lower part of my back to disengage us from the spot. Honestly, I'm glad to have Stephen as my ride, because in my current state I'm far too drained to even begin to concentrate on the traffic.
>>GSW.<<, he says only briefly before giving me a cursory glance.
>>Okay? What does that have to do with your thesis exactly?<<, I inquire with a laugh as he gives me that look that seems to have hope in it every time that I could read his mind. When I don't react, I get the meanwhile too familiar eye roll and slightly unnerved looking heavy exhale.
After a moment he continues: >>Christine came to me and asked me...<<
>>Christine?<<, I enquire, now paying full attention, and briefly hold him by the sleeve so that we both stop. He seems to understand immediately and gives me one of his sly grins.
>>You know you have nothing to worry about with Christine. My eyes are only on the attractive, gorgeous, smart doctor next to me. An admittedly quite addictive sight.<<
Now it's my turn to roll my eyes. Even though such things are really corny, they always take on a whole different meaning from the mouth of Stephen Strange.
>>Where was I? In any case, the patient, from Nick or her, I don't know, was apneic. And guess what the reason was.<<
>>Oxygen supply problems?<<, I suggest as a solution as he pushes me along again. A little more information would definitely make this easier.
>>Better.<<, he confidently reports.
>>Tell me.<<
>>A bullet impinging on the medulla. Nick diagnosed brain death. What else would you expect from him?<<, he laughs. I can't help but chuckle. Stephen's impression of Nick is pretty neat.
>>The really good part is yet to come.<<
He clears his throat briefly before starting again, >>"Organ harvest, he's gonna go down." Imagine that in his convincing voice. As it too often is, of course, it was a prematurely judgmental.<<
Suddenly, a freezing blast of wind chases past us. Without seeming to give it much thought, Stephen takes off his scarf and puts it around my neck as he continues, >>The only logical thing I could do, of course, was to perform a suboccipital craniotomy, which I mentioned, and he just said so, imagine it, "Not gonna let you operate on a deadman." What was he studying for anyway?<< As he says this he does a little curtsy while walking to emphasize his words and raises his arms theatrically in the air.
>>You shouldn't be so mean to him.<<, I reprimand him, because Nick, no matter how much he could annoy you, was not a bad doctor.
>>What do you think, Dr. (L/n), what it had to do with the bullet?<<, he provokes me with a cheeky grin and looks at me.
For a moment I have to think what he means. >>Was the bullet hardened?<<
>>Yes.<<
>>You harden a bullet by alloying lid with anatomy, toxic metal and that's leach directly to the cerebral spinal fluid, if that's what you mean?<<, I provide him with the only answer option I can think of to his question at the moment.
Bluntly, I feel his lips on the crown of my head. >>That's my girl.<<
His words make me blush abruptly, even though by God it's not the first time I've heard them.
>>So it was really less the fact that the bullet was sort of pressing on the medulla. It was more like the lead in the bullet is creating a poison; they stopping the brain from working.<<
>>Are you flirting with me?<<, he jokes.
>>So it's a butcher shop, because people like Nick don't come straight to the ideas of the great Stephen Strange?<<, I answer my own question from just a moment ago, and collect a stiltedly thoughtful look from Stephen who is stroking his chin in an equally thoughtful pose.
>>About.<<
>>You do still realize that I'm also occasionally associated with the ER?<<, I confront him with narrowed eyes and cross my arms in front of my chest. He better not say anything wrong right now.
>>Occasionally. You're only there when they don't have a plan themselves. I couldn't work in that butcher shop. I'm fusing transected spinal cords. I'm stimulating neurogenesis in the nervous system. The work I'm doing is gonna save thousands for years to come. In ER, you get to save one drunk idiot with a gun.<<, he points out with a meaningful expression on his face, which I'm not going to let him get away with so easily. His gaze turns forward again while he's still talking and I see my chance for revenge.
>>Yeah, you're right. In ER, we're only saving lives.<<, I express my opinion sarcastically before, without Stephen noticing directly, I bend down and take a handful of snow in my hands. He seems to be searching for the car keys in his pocket right now.
The frozen water runs a little under the sleeves of my jacket due to the body heat of my hands. My mind is made up, however. Now or never.
>>Stephen!<<, I call after him after he has already arrived at his car.
Puzzled, he turns around, apparently only now really noticing that I stopped about 10 meters ago. With great momentum I take a swing and throw the snowball at him. 
Grumbling deeply, he brushes the remains of the formerly cold ball out of his hair. He gives me a look of amusement and incomprehension and makes this little head movement that makes my heart beat faster every time.
>>(Y/n)...<<, his vibrant voice comes through to me and I really have to pull myself together not to immediately burst into a hearty laugh.
>>Yes, Stephen?<<, I ask him with one of my most innocent voices and an angelic blink. Well, that's what he gets for his self-persuasive nature now.
With a few long strides, he comes back and finally stops just in front of me. His warm breath makes its way over my cold skin, which sends a pleasant shiver down my spine. Slowly, his head slides next to mine, my muscles unwilling to respond.
>>You'll pay for this when we get home.<<, I hear his baritone voice a little dazed and feel a cheeky grin forming on his face.
>>I will?<<, I gasp a little taken aback and wrap my arms around his waist as he comes even closer to me, suddenly completely oblivious to the cold around us.
Strictly do not: copy, claim or translate those stories of mine anywhere else  
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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
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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. 
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pendragon-writes · 2 years
Text
𝒟𝓇. 𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒
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❤️=Romantic 🧸=Child/Teen Reader 💙=Platonic
💊=Hurt/Comfort 💛=Fluff 🌎=Au 📖=Series
None Yet
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just-a-strange-boy · 7 months
Text
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
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"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.
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acriminalmind · 8 months
Text
Coming Soon...
Songs From the Wood
Forrest Dweller Wanda Maximoff x GN Villager Reader
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Summary: Those who enter the mysterious woods and get off the trails are never to be seen again.
A party thrown by your former classmates ends up with you fighting for your life.
Warnings: ⚠️ 18+, minors DNI. Dark Themes, Shitty and Immature People, Consequences of Alcohol, Spiked Drink, Use of Weapons like Axes and Knifes, Some very Graphic Images (Blood, Injuries, Torture, Violent and Gruesome Deaths), Some Strong Language, Mentions of Cannibalism, Kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome, Smut, Human Sacrifices, Marriage, Pregnancy.
AN: Reader has GN pronounces in this story, but has male genitalia.
You can't use or repost my work.
Let me know your thoughts!
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ynscrazylife · 10 months
Note
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
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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.
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twistnet · 1 year
Text
do not touch [ stephen strange ]
⋯ KINKTOBER PROMPT ; day 25 [ sex pollen ]
⋯ WARNINGS ; gn!reader, smut [ sex pollen -- from a weird artifact, oral sex -- gn terms used rough sex, multiple orgasms, cum ] + mature language 
⋯ NOTE ; this content is strictly for those 18+ ; any minors // ageless // blank blogs interacting with this post // masterlist will be blocked
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there were many things in the sanctum that were simply off-limits. that’s what Stephen had told you when you had first come to live with him. and while you were free to roam around the sanctum and no real room was off-limits, he had told you not to touch anything as he was still learning what everything did.
you had been constantly reminded of this rule during your first month of your living there, but stephen had stepped back after awhile and nothing had been mentioned since.
your regular routine was to make a cup of tea, and walk around the sanctum to enjoy the peace and quiet as stephen worked in the other room. you had made it up to the floor that housed a lot of the older artifacts that had been collected over centuries.
and while you were usually very careful, it seemed that it wasn’t in your favor today. starting with how the pocket of your knit pants had managed to catch the edge of one of the tables, jerking you back and causing the table to shake harshly. in turn, sending a few items to the ground with a loud crash.
you had cursed loudly, dropping your mug to the edge of the time before dropping to the ground in a mad scramble to gather up the broken pieces of the artifacts. there was the vague sound of stephen’s voice trailing up the stairs as he questioned on what had happened. followed seconds later with scrambling feet as he made his way upstairs.
“i thought i told you not to touch.” his voice sounded from the doorway, and you could hear the annoyance lacing his tone, “what broke?”
“firstly, i didn’t touch anything. my pocket caught the edge of the table and sent things flying. and secondly, it just looks like some old vase with some powder in it is the only thing that managed to brake into a million pieces.” you state, glaring up at him as you attempted to scrape the powder back into the broke pieces of vase -- as if somehow it was going to make the situation any better.
stephen sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “just... leave it. i’ll clean it up. why don’t you pick a book and find some other place to occupy yourself? for my sanity, please?” he picks up on the discontented sigh, but shoots you a kind smile as you pass him towards the library. 
you had done as told, finding a slightly interesting book and settling yourself into one of the large armchairs that littered the room. and slowly, you began flipping through the pages. only getting through the first chapter when Stephen entered the library with an almost frightened expression, “did you touch the powder that was in that vase?!”
“uh... yes?!” you exclaim, worried now about why he was worrying so heavy about some artifact and then an odd feeling settled into your stomach as you slowly realized that you probably were playing with some ashes of an old sorcerer, “was it someone’s ashes?”
stephen scoffs, shaking his head, “no! it’s not that! did any of the powder get on your hands? face?” he questions, looking at you with wild eyes as you shrug, “i don’t know! i was just trying to clean it up! what’s the big deal anyway?!”
the only answer you get is a heavy sigh, and with a wave of his hands, books begin flying from their spots and spinning around the sorcerer as he begins to scan different texts, “stephen, you’re scaring me. what’s going on?”
“i believe the artifact you broke was used as an ancient aphrodisiac. the only thing is, i can’t decipher what effects it is going to have on you. have you... experienced anything different?”
“no, i feel fine.” stephen nods, humming to himself as he continues to scan the texts in front of him, “if anything changes, let me know immediately. i could try to compare any symptoms you feel to the ones listed through out this book and see if we can’t fix it from there.”
you nod softly, settling back into the armchair with a heavy sigh. this wasn’t the greatest thing, and now you were stuck in the care of stephen for possibly the rest of the afternoon -- and god, it was starting to get hot in here.
“what’s the temperature outside?” you question, glancing out the wind to see the sun shining brightly, thinking maybe that’s why you feel so hot. stephen glances at you curiously, “uh, the weather stated there was going to be a high of thirty-seven today. why do you ask?”
“cause it’s fucking hot in here. did you turn the heat on full blast or something?” you state, slowly fanning yourself with the book in your hands. “i didn’t turn on the heat...”
that’s when the realization hits the both of you and stephen quickly scrambles through the book he’s reading to compare what you’re experiencing. all the while, the heat has increased to the point it’s hard to think.
blinking and widening your eyes a little, you glance down back at the book in your hands. attempting to read the words on the page, but they just end up being words -- nothing quite making the connection.
with a sigh, you drop the book to your lap, angling your face up closer to the coolness radiating from the large window behind you, letting it cool your face. sagging back into the chair as your hand drops to your lap and -- jesus christ.
your leg jerks a little as you register the sensation of your fingers on your clothed inner thigh. its a nice sensation, one that has you gliding your fingers over your leg again and causes your stomach muscles to tighten. it had felt good.
“stephen...” you choke out, nearly out of breath at your ministrations and the man in question snaps his head to you, “are you alright?”
you shake your head, “no... fuck... i don’t know.” you whimper softly, hand rubbing slowly along your inner thigh, the pressure in your stomach steadily increasing with each pass. 
“tell me what you’re feeling.” stephen almost demands, crossing the room to stand over you -- and finally noticing the beads of sweat collecting on your forehead as you look up at him with hazy eyes, “i feel... good. really good, but not quite good enough...” the words are slightly slurred, and stephen’s head drops as he curses.
he was desperately hoping that the aphrodisiac you had come in contact with wasn’t that one. as the reversal for it wasn’t the best option, and leaving you be was only going to make things worse for you.
stephen catches the movement of your hands attempting to dip below the waistband of your knitted pants, and he quickly snatches up your hands before you can venture any further, “stephen...!”
“you can’t do that, honey. i’m sorry.” he apologizes, heart nearly breaking as your bottom lip quivers and tears gather in your eyes, “but it hurts, stephen...”
“i know... but you’re fingers aren’t going to help you. it will only help for a little bit and then it won’t be enough the next time. you have to trust me on this...” he pleads with you, the words seemingly getting somewhere as you nod, “so, what’s going to happen now?”
stephen sucks in a breath, “i’m going to help you, but please know, this isn’t the way i wanted it to be. but before we... start, i want to know that you’re okay with this.”
it nearly scares him how quickly you agree to what he’s offering, nearly tearing you pants and underwear down to your ankles in anticipation. but stephen can curse at himself about this later, right now, you needed him to help you. and that’s what he was going to do.
your legs are already spread for him, each one hooked over the armrest of the chair, giving him a view of your already soaked and leaking hole as you press yourself back into the cushions, “please stephen...”
he hums, before leaning forward and hooking his arms under each of your thighs. you’re breathing picks and with the blood rushing in your ears, you barely register what stephen is doing until he presses an absolutely filthy kiss to your slick hole.
stephen chases the taste of you, nearly growling as more slick coats his tongue and makes a mess of his face. he withdraws slightly, teases his tongue along to relish the way it makes your keen loudly. and then he gets into a rhythm of circling and probing, to savor the different tune of panting and gasping, listening intently as it gets harder and harder for you to keep still as you chase after your first orgasm.
it gushes over stephan’s tongue, something he happily laps up before pulling back from you entirely to wipe his face with the bak of his sleeve. you’re panting heavily, only slightly worn out from your orgasm and only seconds away from pawing at him again. in need of something more.
stephen is quick to shuck his pants and briefs downward, letting them rest around his thighs as he gathers you up, and pulls you into a more comfortable position with your chest resting against the top of the table nearest to you. your legs spread in the slightest, inviting him in as he steps between you legs and presses his cock into your hole. taking a moment to pause and catch his breath, to get one hand on your shoulder to brace him and the other on your ass, squeezing and spreading in turns to watch your hole twitch around him.
“fuck me, please baby, fuck me.” you nearly sob, as stephen’s head tilts back to sharply breathe in under the onslaught of your pleas, and then he snaps his hips forward, then again, again and again with relentless focus.
you wail loudly, hips immediately rolling back with the rhythmic force of stephen’s thrusts. he’s pistoning right into that spot that makes your eyes roll back and your hole squelch as stephen stretches you open again and again.
noises roll from your lips, a mixture of gasping and whining with each movement. stephen can feel you tightening around his cock, and it makes his blood run impossibly hotter. your breath eventually catches and holds, and stephen feels the unfathomable pleasure of feeling you tighten around his cock so strongly that he has to still for a moment and just watch as the orgasm ripples across your body. your thighs shuddering seemingly outward and then going completely lax as you gasps in lungfuls of air.
you’re still clenched tightly around him, and while all attempts to keep himself from cumming inside you, it turns fruitless as he lets himself go. pumping into you heavily with a deep groan. stephen sighs, gently patting your hip as he calls your name, concern dropping over his voice when you don’t response for a few seconds.
until you do, calling his name weakly as he gathers you in his arms and presses a soft kiss to your temple, “let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” and with you nod, he guides you towards the bathroom.
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arkytiorwrites · 1 year
Text
Dance With Me Tonight?
Doctor Stephen Strange Supreme x Reader
All I have to say is that Strange Supreme deserved better. So here it is.
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"Okay Tony," you mumbled to your best friend. "Better now then never."
"You sure about this kid?” the billionare asked, putting his hands on your shoulders and staring intently into your eyes. "Any Strange is a handful.”
"I'm sure,” you confirmed stubbornly. "This one's more than worth it."
"Then go forth and get your man, my child,” Tony smirked, gently knocking his knuckles on your chin. “They grow up so fast,” he added as he wiped way an imaginary tear before heading out onto the stage.
You tried to calm yourself as Tony pulled up the song you intended to sing to your sorcerer.
You'd met the imprisoned enchanter four years ago almost to the day after a mishap with your inter-dimensional tech. Due to your universal origins, you knew all about the Stephen Strange of the What If…? storyline. Naturally empathetic to his circumstances, you had willingly befriended the suffering man, and persuaded him to join you in the reality you now called home. A large influencer of that decision was that you had somewhat fallen in love with the broken Sorcerer Supreme; but fully understanding and respectful of his devotion to Christine.
But… tonight ... you needed to at least subtly let him know he was loved.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Tony's boistrous announcement snapped you out of your reverie. "We've got a special guest for you tonight. I'm gonna call my friend Y/N up here to sing to a special someone. Y/N! Let's go, darling.”
With a grin and twirl, you grabbed the mic and began to sing.
Stephen had been moodily sipping his martini when he heard Stark’s announcement ring through the common room of Avenger Tower. Whipping his head around from the bar to the stage, he watched heartbroken as you began to sing the song that always made you dance.
When you had fallen into his crystal bubble, he had begun to wonder is he had finally gone mad. You were lively, wise cracking, and a kindly traveller that had never judged him, accepted him wholly, but never took any of his shit and gave a good as you got. When you had fought for his place in your world, he had fallen and fallen hard. But he had vowed that he would never allow another to get close to him , just so that destiny would be satisfied . So he kept you at arms length, but longed for you just the same. It killed him to see you glow as you sang to the one who held your heart.
“My name is Y/N, nice to meet you can I tell you baby,
Lookin’ round there's a whole lot of pretty gentry.
But none like you, you shine so bright!
Yeah!”
You sang as you scanned the room for the dark wizard. Finally spotting him nursing a martini at the bar you began to plot your way through the crowd to him.
"I was wonderin’ if you and me could spend a minute,
Up close, on the floor gettin lost in it,
I won’t give up without a fight!"
You could vividly remember the first time Stephen had walked in on you singing and dancing to the song. You had been making your morning coffee, and had turned on the music while you waited for the elixir of life to brew. Strange had wandered in during the chorus and had watched until the end of the song as you made a fool of yourself and had the audacity to say you had a nice voice!
"Oo oo! Ooo baby!
I just want you to dance with me tonight!"
Stephen loved nothing more then to hear you sing; love songs were his favorite, because then he could pretend you meant the words for him. He watched, chest aching horribly as you jumped down from the stage and began to move through the crowd, still singing.
How he longed to be the one you were singing to, but why such a divine being would love a hellish creature like him, he couldn’t say. As you moved closer and closer he tried to deduce who the lucky bastard could be, but as far as he knew, you had never come in contact with any of the men here, except for the Avengers.
So which of them could it be? Stark was taken, and you both were more like Fred and George Weasley, anyway. It couldn't be Barton, he was married with kids. Banner, perhaps? It might be Thor but you were a surprisingly quiet individual, considering the company you kept. It might be Loki, Thor had brought his wayward brother to Earth for, essentially, community service. The two were scary similar in personality and habits, so it would make sense... but the Trickster was at the other side of the room. Who the hell could it be?!
"Gettin’ sweaty,
Hot and heavy
In the crowd now!
Take your hands and let them go down down!”
You looked heavenly in your emerald green button down and black vest, you'd never been interested in the normal dress code. You'd always enjoyed shocking everyone with your clothing choices. Tonight, you stood out amongst the sparkling gowns and black tuxedos in the most unique and beautiful way possible. You... oh Vishanti. You were making your way to him.
You watched as finally Stephen figured out that you were singing to him, his whole posture and expression changed from confused to downright shocked.
“Took you long enough, you handsome dummy," you thought as you continued.
"I just want you to dance with me tonight!"
Finally standing in front of him as you finished the song.
Everyone cheered, but you ignored them in favor of staring into Stephens eyes.
"Me?" he finally asked faintly.
“You," you agreed softly.
Tears filled the sorcerers’ eyes as be shakily reached for the one who commanded his heart.
You willingly walked into his arms and held him close as he wept silently into your shoulder. Holding him as tightly as you dared, gently combing your fingers through the soft, dark hair of your beloved as he finally let go of the past and embraced the future.
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ace-of-gay · 1 year
Text
Its okay to be small
Doctor strange x little reader
1,158 words
Edited to the best of my ability
Warnings: age regression, little one feeling anxiety, little names like pumpkin, cartoons and stuffies
Pronouns: none
weight mentioned: none
No skin color or hair type mentioned
You are responsible for your own media consumption especially when theres warnings, dont like it? Dont read it, age regression is a therapist reccomend coping mechanism if you have an issue with it than ignore it.
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With abilities similar to his and Wanda’s but not physically the same you found it better to stay in a building that was safe for your well being where you could openly use your abilities at free will without any repercussion.
Originally you and strange were just close friends but after several years of living with one another his hear found something more in you now that he had freed his mind of Christine, of course he was happy for her but it was finally his time to feel happy with someone.
He felt so much more himself when he finally got the courage to ask you out, since than everything has felt perfect… well mostly perfect.
You desperately wanted him to know about your coping mechanism but past relationships had ended specifically because of it, thankfully he was a very respectful and understanding person so when it came to your personal room he never entered knowing there want anything important in there for him to know about, he just assumed it was a quiet space or a hobby room, if he really wanted to know he would just ask.
That is until today.
He had left for a four day mission, its only been two so as it was you still have two days where you can openly regress around the sanctum with no question, as Wong was on a little mission of his own.
While the fox and the hound play on your tv to fill the silence, you sit on the floor with your collections of build a bears and other stuffie’s akin and all the bear clothing you’ve collected sprawled out on the floor, dressing and undressing them making each one look perfect, paring them up with one another making buddies, friends and significant others, you were originally just gonna play dress up with them but that got put to the side when you imagined them at an avengers like party, lucky you have avengers outfits for your bears so its perfect, taking your favorite teddy’s you make them look like captain America, iron man, black widow, and a few of the others, not having all of the costumes but that’s okay.
You pick the meanest looking teddy, you have him walking around in the collection of all the others when he gets big and mean, you imagine him yelling and than in comes all the avengers quickly getting everyone to safety, the bad bear is trying to hold his side but the avengers taking him down easily.
After that the game was basically done so you pick up two of your favorite stuffies who are always paired together making them fly around the room, the room being fairly large you had plenty of space to walk around as if you’re chasing them.
You had no idea strange was home early, he had called out for you several times, walking around the main rooms looking for you, when he finally heard your giggles and trills and the soft murmur of a movie in the background.
You making sound effects, you were so lost in your world and it intrigued him, he had knocked three different times and you apparently hadn’t heard it so he opened the door just enough to check in on you, what he saw didn’t entirely surprise him, he knew you had trauma from several places in your life especially abandonment so it made sense that being here alone would need coping mechanisms. He knows exactly what age regression is, a smile big on his face and his heart swelling with love as you walk around your room following your stuffies as you make them fly, with a flick of his hand their movements were now in his control.
Flying them wildly around the room causing you to chase them around the room trying to get them back.
Surely your stuffies had grown minds of their own and were actually playing with you, that was what you thought until your foot caught the edge of the rug and sent you falling forward, pulling your arms to your chest and your eyes clenching shut, this is why you don’t want to be an avenger, you freeze, when you’re in danger your mind blanks and expects the fall. Why haven’t you fallen you question, opening your eyes you see an orange glow surrounding your.
Looking over to the door in a panic your body rushes cold, this cant happen, he cant see you like this.
He uses his magic to carefully set you down on the center of the rug as he steps further into the room.
He sees the panic in your eyes and the silent tears running down your cheeks, you’re curling in on yourself, he picks up one of the two stuffies from the floor bringing it to you, you scooting back, your mind clouded with everything that has happened in the past when people found out about your regression, his demeanor meant nothing in the face of admitting what you’re doing.
“I’m sorry” you mutter, he bends down to you, sitting on his haunches, going to place one hand under your chin, your eyes clenching shut until you feel the gentlest touch, the slightest tremor lifting your look, “my love, its okay, there is no need to hide or fear from me”
He moves to put the stuffy in your lap, taking both hands to wipe away your tears, moving to sit down on the floor, pulling you into his lap, holding you close, hushing your whimpers, slowly but surely soothing you back to a calm sense.
Looking up at him once again, feeling slightly bigger than before but still small, “how d’you know bout it?”.
“Pumpkin, you’re not the first little I’ve met, its very common for people in constant high stress and trauma to cope by regressing, its especially common with mental illness and chronic pain”.
“S’that why you so nice right now?”
Chuckling to himself shaking his head, “my love, that may be one of many reasons but its not the big one, the big one is because I love you, there is nothing of you that would upset or bother me, if being small is what helps than I support you ten fold”
A smile slowly casting Its way across your cheeks, turning into him, wrapping your arms tightly around him, it was finally okay to be you, you can finally feel completely and utterly yourself.
“Thank you” you whisper. “There is no need to thank me my love. Can you tell me how old you are?”
Shaking your head than letting it rest upon his shoulder “dunno how old, m’ jus small but not tiny right now”.
Nodding while rubbing your back, “that’s okay well figure it all out together”.
The rest of your day was filled with plenty of cuddles, cartoons and nap together.
This felt entirely like a new possibility of happiness.
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Thank you so much @hera4venenosa for letting me write this for you! <3
And thank you @shiny-purple-pizza-eater for helping me make decisions on where they live and what theyre doing <3
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beanxemily · 1 year
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Scarlet Witch/wizard from another universe!Reader: I don't need you.. to tell me who.. I am.
Strange: There's two of them?
Wanda: I surprised myself, Stephen
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clouded-dreams2 · 2 years
Text
Promise Me | Doctor Strange x Gn!Reader
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a/n - At the time of writing this note I am yet to see Multiverse of Madness, which means spoiler free! I was watching Benedict’s SNL and came up with the Idea of this. Edit: I have seen DSMOM and I wrote this, I love him. Still spoiler free!
Warnings - Fluff, Fluff, Fluff, cursing, slightly suggestive, and a mention of blood. I’m sorry if I haven’t got them all!
Paring - Stephen Strange x Gn!Reader
It was another late night. He wasn’t there yet you started getting cold as your legs dangled off the side of a building. You were at your favorite place to stargaze with Stephen, he had said he planned a date, he said he would be there in an hour. It’s been three hours and no sign of the Doctor. Busy Stephen Strange should have been his title, not doctor. You started growing nervous and angry until your phone buzzed. You knew Stephen was probably only late due to saving the world, and whatever else needed saving. You picked up your phone hoping that Busy Stephen Strange would become Doctor Stephen Strange once more.
Amore Mio 💙: Sorry I’ll be running a little late. There was an incident. 
(y/n): It’s alright, maybe tonight isn’t the best night? 
Amore Mio 💙: Typing…
You got up carefully bringing your legs back from resting over the ledge, the daring night breeze brushing over them once more. You grabbed your blanket starting to mumble to yourself, things about Doctor “late on every date” Strange but you were glad to know he was okay and safe.
“Hello.” His voice was slightly hoarse, which made it deeper. More intimidating, more… daring. One you would typically want to mess around with, you already created a plan which stirred in your brain. He had been dressed in his best suit and that stirred your plan even further, the imagery of Stephen shirtless with his arms wrapped around you on the balcony with nothing but the night sky keeping you comfortable. Lucky enough the place you both loved to stargaze was an abandoned lot on old Stark property private to anyone who wasn’t an Avenger, also lucky enough you both were.
“I’m surprised you made it.”
“I brought wine.” Stephen looked at you, the person he got to wake up to every morning. He had a look in his eyes which proved he was sorry he wasn’t any earlier.
“And I assume that's what took the longest?” You quipped to Stephen; you forgave him. You wouldn’t have made it this far in the relationship if you didn’t forgive him for being late. He was the Master of the Mystic Arts who no longer had the time stone.
“Either it was the wine or saving New York. I lost track of which one took the longest.” He chuckled, you noticed a gash on his forehead. Your caretaker instincts kicked in. You were once a nurse, one the Avengers took pride in. One of the best in New York as some might say, only  fitting you got the man with the PHD and MD.
“You're bleeding.”
“It wouldn’t be healthy if I wasn’t.” Stephen set down the bottle of wine on the table staring at you with the eyes of a man who just wanted to be in his lover's company. A smirk crossed his lips as he took out his phone typing. You pulled out your phone when it buzzed expecting it to be Wong saying something inconvenient but it was Stephen.
Amore Mio 💙: I may be late for a date, but I haven’t ever missed one unless I had no control over the situation. I love you forever. I have a little something planned to say sorry. If you let me show up, because I know your mind isn’t always kind to you.
“Stephen Vincent Strange.. You romantic man.” You put your phone on the table next to Stephen’s. He took it as an opportunity to grab your hand and hold you near to him, he started swaying with you slowly and in circles. He loved you and in the rare moments he got you to himself and didn’t have to be saving the world he could show it, fully. There was music low and classically romantic coming from his phone. You swayed with him, your head on his shoulder as he hummed the lyrics to That’s Amore by Dean Martin. Whoever said that man could not fall in love with the same person more than twice was lying. This was proof.
“I love you.” You spoke into his neck, softly kissing his exposed skin. He smiled, tucked your hair behind your ear and kissed your cheek. He moved his hand that was on your hip to under your chin and stared into your eyes. He couldn't help himself, his light blue eyes twinkled in the candle light. He kissed you, just a peck. He was taken off guard when you kissed him back nevertheless he still kissed back, he was thankful for you.
“I love you too, (y/n).” He whispered in your ear he was thankful for this moment. One he would be able to share with you, this moment so rare for him in the path he was set upon. The fact he has someone who loves him for him, his personality not his title, the insecurities even his little ones, someone who loves him more than he can love himself at times. He had an idea, maybe one he could act on as the night progresses, depending on your mood. He wanted to show you how much he truly loved you, how much he really brought himself home every time he was near you, and how through the years he learned that home isn't material. It was irreplaceable, something you could hold, and something you could break but someone you didn’t want to do either too.
“Stephen?”
“Hm?” He was there completely but let his guard down, he trusted you. The Sorcerer had his soft spots and you knew all of them.
“Do you want some wine?” You asked. You didn’t want to leave his hands, his warmth. Both of his hands removed themselves from your hips.
“Yeah.” He moved to pull your chair out for you and waited for you to sit down before he sat down pouring you a glass before he poured himself one. He casted a simple spell to make bread and butter appear. You lost yourself once again in his eyes, your hand subconsciously searching for his. You couldn’t help the smile that formed on your face as he rubbed his thumb over yours. After the wine and bread, the casual discussion that broke out between you two. He created a small portal that let him grab something that you couldn’t quite see.
“(y/n) (y/l/n), you know I’m not a man of romantic speeches but that doesn’t stop me from trying.” He chuckled nervously, he put the box on the table. The box was too long to be a ring you knew Stephen wouldn’t propose yet, he would make a major deal out of it. Some high end restaurant in some other city in some other country, he would do it because he would want it to be special, you know him. 
“I’m often a pain in your ass, or my own. Keeping you safe from the monsters of the world, not letting myself have a break, and sometimes I can be.. A sarcastic disaster, a mess, broken and bloody. You mend me, you save me, you keep me going. I had it specially made with a piece of something I hold.” He couldn’t help himself, he didn’t know how to finish his speech without messing up, so he kept it. Typically, he’s smart as hell, quick to think but when it comes to you he could never think of the right things to say. He opened the box as you looked at him, taking time to process that this man in front of you, Doctor Stephen Strange, is practically promising himself to you through a necklace. You could already tell he used something that if Wong found out he would give Stephen shit for it. Maybe a relic, or maybe some spell he put on it, you weren't sure. All plans you and Stephen thought of went out of the window as you just wanted to spend time with each other in this romantic setting you’ve made for each other.
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