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#pre accident stephen strange
callsignangelxx · 8 months
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“Beginnings”
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Pre—Accident!Stephen Strange x Fem! Surgeon!OFC, Grey’s anatomy Crossover.
A/N: First of all I have a lot of Original Characters that I am adding to this Series, Which I will Explain the roles right now before moving along into the actual writing part!
Chief of General Surgery: Doctor Jack Wilson
General Surgery Attending: Doctor Liam Jones
General Surgery Resident: Doctor Lucas Miller
Chief of Thoracic Surgery: Doctor Charlotte Garcia.
Thoracic Surgery Attending: Henry Davis
Thoracic Surgery Resident: Camila Taylor
OBGYN/Neonatal Surgeon: Emily Perez
Fetal Surgeon: Evelyn Lopez
Pediatrician: Asher Lewis.
Neurosurgery Resident: Noah Sanchez.
Orthopedic Surgeon: Aria Adams
Hand Surgeon: Layla Rivera
Spine Surgeon: Ethan Carter
Trauma Surgeon: Hazel Evans
Pediatric Surgeon: Aurora Baker
Interns: Amy Nelson, David Torres, James Scott, Shelby Edwards, Willow Brooks.
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Chapter Two: Beginnings Of Tragic Incidents.
Chapter Summary: after Blake talked with Cristina about what’s been going on in Seattle with Meredith and Everyone else, her Interns do something unforgivable, something she can’t even Fathom forcing her to do something, maybe even tell her boyfriend.
CW//TW: Medial Terminology, Drama, Shouting, Surgery, Trauma, Cursing, Stephen getting mad at the interns, a Bunch of different OC’s, Blake and Christine are best friend, mentions of Derek shepherd’s Death, Trauma, Flashbacks, Cristina and Blake are like soulmates, injuries, mentions of Cutting an LVAD wire.
“So he totally is Like Meredith’s McDreamy, Huh?” Cristina said over the Phone call, Blake Hissed at her to shut up as she was in the Female Attendings Locker room, Pulling on her Dark Blue Scrubs. “Cristina!” She Whisper Shouted.
Cristina Snorted before ending the call, She Met Stephen Outside heading towards the Nurses Station to get and find there own Cases, like Any hospital Worked. “By the way where are your Stupid Interns?” He asked. Blake stopped, blinking her eyes noticing that none of her little Suck ups were around her, Malia Noticed the Doctor becoming Suspicious and Knew she had to tell on the Poor Interns.
"Doctor Shepherd, one of your Patients on the transplant list came back in after his heart was failing again despite the LVAD, They've been in his room for an hour now, I think his name was Daniel Cooper." Malia said, Blake had a bad feeling about all this, She nodded at Stephen and Malia to come with her. The Trio Scrambled to Cooper's Room, standing in shock when they saw what was happening. "What the hell.." Blake mumbled, her eyes widened in shock, seeing Amy Pumping his heart Manually as the LVAD Wire was cut with a Pair of Scissors next to it. "Amy, What the hell did you do?!" She Practically yelled, "and why are all you fools helping her?!"
Amy didn't respond continuing to Pump his heart, Blake looked at Stephen who shook his head, she nodded to Malia, "Malia take over Pumping his Heart, and Amy step away from the Patient." Malia Nodded and Tried to gently take the device away but Amy screamed no and said not to touch her, Blake Ignored Amy for now telling Malia to stay with her and to help Amy if she allowed her to, Blake turned to the three other Idiot doctors, "You three, In the hall. Now." She ordered.
Blake was angry, seething even. "What the hell were you three thinking, you could have killed that Patient." She said, Stephen was right next to her agreeing with her words, "Even worse, you could have endangered your careers and be sued for assaulting a Patient." Stephen added. David Tried to speak but Blake shushed him, "No, Not a word, you are not to speak, Not a single word, I don't wanna have to Testify against any of you fools." She said.
The Group was silent for a moment, “I assume you ran labs..” She said, Her eyes showing a Furious anger and Disappointment. They stayed Silent only fueling her Annoyance and anger, "Well?..." She demanded. James spoke, "you told us not to speak-"
"I know I did, Now did you run labs?!.." Blake said, tapping her foot impatiently, David Nodded, Blake sighed as she gave out orders, "Okay, Shelby Jack's been asking for you." She said giving her the order to go, before turning to the rest of the amazingly idiotic Interns, "David go get those labs and come right back, do not talk to anyone, go straight there and back."
Then She turned to James, "Now you, follow me and Stephen Right now."
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A Few Hours later and both Blake and Stephen were making sure Mr. Cooper was okay, She listened to his heart with her Stethoscope sighing at how weak it sounded. "Why Amy... Why would you do this?.." She said, Continuing to to Listen to his heart while Stephen did a quick Neuro Exam to ensure he was okay in the head, no concussion or any Brain Bleed whatsoever. "Because he needs that heart and I love him.. I love him so damn Much Doctor Shepherd.." The Intern Whispered, Blake shook her head sighing In Disappointment.
"Oh for God's sake, you fell in love with a Patient.." Blake sighed, exasperated, Stephen was really trying to hold back all his anger at the Interns. "Well his Brain is Okay, No signs of anything wrong with his brain." Stephen Said. David Came in with the Labs, "Labs are back, His State is becoming worse." Blake sighed Knowing exactly what that Meant. Amy Spoke now, "He'll get the heart right, He's gonna get the heart? He has to. You'll Sign the papers that he'll be put at the top of the list-" She was quickly Interrupted by Blake's cold tone.
"Those are the Kind of things I would tell a doctor, and right now you are not a doctor, you are a Visitor." She said, her eyes showing how furious she actually was. "What?.." Amy asked in complete and utter disbelief. "You will no longer be a doctor in this Hospital until I say Otherwise. Now Step away from Mr. Cooper and let Malia Take over." She Ordered.
Malia came over slowly taking it away from Amy as Blake Glared at her slightly, making the rest of the Interns Shrink underneath her Gaze.
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Blake told Stephen to carry on with the rest of his Surgeries while she went to talk to the Chief of the hospital about this certain Incident without exposing her Interns for doing this.
She asked the Chief about a Hypothetical Question with the exact same Situation, In which she explained that Mr. Cooper move to the top of the list and receive the heart Immediately but ordered that whoever did that was to be in her Office for Intense Consequences for endangering a Patients Life.
Blake nodded, "Of course, Ma'am."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Which ended with the Interns getting yelled at by the chief and forced to not even go near a Surgical case unless they fessed up on who did it and to share one single Patient to give her what she needed.
Later on Blake was sitting at the Nurses Station, Checking on different Patient files and Images, as Stephen was Charting, "So, How bad was their Punishments?" Stephen asked with a Snide Smirk on his face. Blake sighed, Shaking her head. "The Chief said no more surgeries until they confess that Amy did it and they had to share one singular Patient." She snorted, Searching up another Patient file.
Malia was now delivering Labs due to Blake's Interns being Punished for their Stupid decisions, "Here you go Blake, Imaging is back for Ms. Collins." She said handing her the Tablet. Blake looked it over smiling to herself, "Oh.. I could use a little Great Neuro Case." She muttered. Stephen Looked up Suddenly Interested, Raising his eyebrow, "Oh no Mister, You have your own Solo Neuro Surgery in 30 Minutes, you need to get ready for that, I've got this one." She said, smirking to herself before teasing him. "Besides this woman has a nail in her head." She said, before rushing off.
Stephen Chuckled to himself, "Well Played, Doctor Shepherd."
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eviesaurusrex · 2 years
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Okay, hear me out: pre-accident Stephen with a secret relationship (but more like the beginning of it, the dating side) with a fellow surgeon nobody knows about because everybody only thinks they would be a cute couple, but everybody knows that it will not happen because YN is the sunshine from pediatrics and Stephen is… well, Stephen. And even Christine isn’t sure if YN is hardcore enough (they’re friends since undergrad) for Stephen, but then there is a moment with a patient in the ER and everyone tries to come to the rescue, but YN is super badass, is handling it like a boss, and Stephen just stands there in utter awe and then grabs her and kisses her in front of everyone (it would be their first kiss). And she is like “Wait a second, I am not dreaming, and this only happens in my dreams” and even Stephen gets a bit flustered because nobody ever admitted that they had dreams with him in the lead role.
Yeah, just leave me alone in this corner full of Stephen. I’m happy here, thanks.
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sobeautifullyobsessed · 9 months
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Of Magic, Miracles, and Moonlight
a Stephen Strange x OFC Romance
genre: pre-Infinity War, slow burn romance, older man/younger woman, teacher/student to friends to lovers characters: Stephen Strange, Wong, Teyla of Hadeeth (OFC), Moraine of Hadeeth (OC), additional OCs as Kamar-Taj staff rating: general audience to begin with, later chapters contain 18+ material
Ch.One | Ch.Two | Ch.Three
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Chapter Four
Despite relaxation exercises meant to clear his mind and free his body from worldly stresses, sleep eluded Stephen for hours, in the wake of Teyla’s startling disclosure.  A good part of his unease was due to the growing realization that he had over reacted to her confession—and that he owed her an apology come daylight.
Initially, he’d been dumbfounded to discover that Teyla--stranger that she was--had been aware of his devastating loss, before they’d even met.  For nearly a decade before they had met.  His shock had quickly turned to anger at the idea of a total stranger quietly carrying that vital, unspoken knowledge around, well before his accident had occurred--as though somehow she might have crossed his path and given him fair warning in the interim, thus enabling him to avoid such a cruel outcome.
Stephen hadn’t snapped at her, but had grown cold and terse with Teyla, restraining himself from angrily lashing out.  Considering it in the hours since, it occurred to him that she must have been well aware—powerful empath that she was--of his ire; both for her knowing, and for the notion that his fate had been somehow predetermined.  Her eyes had filled with sorrow, for surely she had sensed his unspoken hostility—and the portion of blame that he had thoughtlessly, albeit silently, laid at her feet.  His mind had even fleetingly considered the idea that somehow her dreaming had conjured his unfortunate fate—the most foolish of notions.  If she had read that from him—and in light of the childhood memory she had just shared with him—he realized that had to have stung Teyla doubly worse.  As he had turned to leave the library, she had bowed her head to hide the tears his reaction had evoked.
The man he’d been before Kamar-Taj would likely not have noticed that he had hurt the young woman—or if he’d taken note, he would have dismissed it as unimportant, and certainly not worth his valuable time to even contemplate offering an apology.  Single-minded and driven he had been, selfish even, as he pursued knowledge and honed his skills, rising to the top of his profession; arrogant too, as he achieved unparalleled expertise, shedding common niceties without compunction when they proved a distraction from his goals.  His mind having been awakened by his studies and extraordinary experiences in the mystic arts eventually enlightened his soul to his past callous, egoistic behaviors, leaving him appropriately humbled—and desirous of being a better man in all matters.
Teyla had clearly deserved better of him, and he knew that he must make amends.  Having resolved to seek her out first thing in the morning, Stephen finally found peace of mind enough to sleep.
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He headed for the dining hall as soon as he was dressed, hoping to catch Teyla over breakfast for a quiet conversation. 
She was nowhere in sight when he arrived, so Stephen grabbed some ohkar and banana pancakes layered with blueberry curd, along with a black coffee, and took a seat, thinking perhaps she might still come by.  He waited about twenty minutes before deciding to check the main courtyard, thinking he might find her there, or at least passing through on the way to her morning training exercises.
He saw her amidst a group of their youngest novices, who stood watching in delighted awe as she worked a magic unfamiliar to him.  Teyla waved her hands in the air above the circle of children, weaving them gracefully in a pattern made easy to discern by the glowing trails of vivid blue that followed in their wake.  With each completed pass, Stephen observed a cascade of colors appear midair; as he moved closer, he could tell that they were flower petals--and could hear the children’s exclamations of pleasure as they giggled and twirled beneath the fairy shower, while holding their hands out to catch what they could.  Those petals left uncaught landed with a little pop upon the children’s hair and happy, upturned faces, to evaporate in a spark of vibrant color.  Grinning at the happy, unexpected sight, Stephen came to the edge of the circle, noting that as Teyla wove her spell, she was humming a cheery series of notes, which fit perfectly with the scene before him.
“Good morning, children,” he chuckled, so that one by one the little faces turned his way. 
“Good morning, Master Strange,” they intoned back, some in English, some in Nepali, and all not quite in unison, so that he could hear the individual piping of even the youngest child.
“Good morning, Miss Teyla,” he grinned, “What magic is this--and might you teach me to charm rose petals from thin air?”
Surprised by his greeting, Teyla bobbed her head, too shy it seemed—or perhaps unwilling, he surmised--to meet his eyes.  “It is just a small magic, Doctor Strange,” she told him meekly, “Meant only to entertain these young ones."
“Well, it’s a lovely bit of magic all the same,” he assured her, hoping to soften her reticence towards him and set her at ease.  “Don’t you think so children?”
Again they answered, nearly as one, in an excited chorus of ‘yeses’, with several of them appearing ready to begin such a lesson at once.
Stephen could tell that she was quietly pleased with their reaction, a little smile ticking up the corners of her mouth, though her tone and manner remained deferential, “Thank you, Doctor.  You are most kind to say so.”
He crouched down to address the young novices directly, “I need to speak with Miss Teyla privately now, so I’m going to steal her away a bit.  You wouldn’t mind that, would you?”  Some regarded him quite solemnly, nodding their understanding before dispersing, with a few lingering to thank her before she bid them on their way.
Stephen rose and approached her gently, sensing that she was still a bit skittish in his presence.  “I meant that sincerely, Teyla.  That was a sweet little spell you worked for them.  Perhaps sometime you could show me how it’s done?”
“Oh…well…it is only the simplest of magics, Doctor,” she reiterated, “One of the first taught to Hadeethan children who are found to be apt.  But I…I would never presume to have anything to teach a Master.”
“None of us are ever too skilled, or even too old, to learn something new.  Knowledge is a gift, Teyla,” he told her sagely, “And so long as it brings no harm to others, a gift we should never turn away.”
“You are right, of course”, she admitted, brave enough from his encouragement to finally meet his eyes, “And I would be glad for the opportunity to share what I might, of our magic, with you.”  Her dark, doe-eyes watched him expectantly as he drew nearer, but flitted downward as he stood before her.  Clearly, his reaction of the evening before had left its sting—giving Stephen even stronger motivation to cure what he had soured.
“Please look at me, Teyla.”  Patiently he waited while she raised her face to his.  “I owe you an apology about last night…”
“Oh no, Doctor Strange—the error was entirely mine,” she insisted, shaking her head emphatically, “I should not have spoken so candidly, of such a private matter.”  Sincerely contrite, she blushed in embarrassment, “It is I who must tender my regrets.”
Stephen laid a hand upon her shoulder, “You did nothing wrong, Teyla.”  Unconvinced, she shook her head slightly, compelling him to greater urgency.  “Believe me, please—and please forgive me for my foolishness.  I treated you rudely. You didn’t deserve that at all—and I am truly sorry.”
Genuinely surprised, she answered graciously, “That is not necessary, Doctor.  You could not have been prepared for such a confession—your reaction was more than reasonable.  And I was the foolish one, to take it so to heart.”
He took her by both shoulders, moved by her honest desire to assume responsibility--and by how easily she had already absolved him.  “I haven’t known you long—and I haven’t your gift for reading people’s emotions—but I can see your heart is kind, and honestly in the right place.”  She made no reply, quietly modest in the face of his declaration, “There’s a special magic in that, and one that cannot be taught.  Trust your instincts, Teyla of Hadeeth.  They will rarely steer you wrong.”
She gazed at him quite frankly, searching for the truth in his eyes, leaving him to feel that his own heart was being scrutinized.  Satisfied his compliment was honestly paid, she told him, “I am honored that you say so, Sir—and will count you advice as valuable as any lesson I will gain in Kamar-Taj.”
The matter seeming to be settled, neither spoke—but Stephen felt he should not let her leave without touching on a lighter topic.  “Soooo,” he started, keen to prove that he was well past any resentment—and that she could feel comfortable in discussing the subject going forward, “Did you dream at all last night?”
She arched a brow, smirking softly at his effort to cement the peace between them, “I did, but they were just ordinary dreams.  Nothing of import.”
“Nothing for your journal then?”  Teyla shook her head, so that he followed up, “Can you be sure of that?”
“Oh yes, Doctor.  Absolutely sure—for I dreamt of my father, as I usually do when he is much on my mind.”  She grew wistful in the remembering, “It has been several years since I saw him last—and returning to Earth now, my heart feels impatient to see him again.”
Further testament of a tender heart, Stephen thought, recalling Master Salma’s observation that Teyla would need to be taught how to safeguard her mind and heart from any negative side effects that her powerful empathy could trigger.  He wondered, too, if her earnest, gentle nature was actually suited for the plans her mother had for her—a testing of sorts, which Moraine had intimated could entail some unknown danger.  Already he felt rather protective of his Hadeethan charge, realizing a time might come when he would have to play the advocate for Teyla’s best interests.
Without a second thought, he found himself extending a surprising proposal, “How about we see how your training progresses over the next few weeks?  If all goes well, maybe we can arrange for you to visit him.”
Teyla nearly jumped up and down with delight, her soft, brown eyes shining brightly.  “Truly, Doctor Strange?  I had not dared to hope for such a chance.  I will do everything the Masters ask of me, without fail,” she vowed, “I swear I shall prove worthy of your offer!”
Amused by her unabashed enthusiasm, Stephen grinned and nodded, “I believe you’ll do exactly that, Teyla.”
The smile she flashed him held a joy that seemed contagious—until she looked away, suddenly self-conscious.  “If I am to fulfill your terms, than I must be on my way to morning training, good Doctor. Thank you for the hope you have promised me.  It will lighten whatever tasks lay ahead.”  She bowed her head respectfully, then moved along her way.
Strange watched Teyla as she went, pondering the streak of playfulness he had witnessed as she worked that pretty magic, appreciative of how it complimented her confidence of purpose and her seriousness about the work she hoped to do.  She was turning out to be a much more intriguing challenge than he had assumed he would face, when Moraine had charged him with furthering her education.
As if she had read his thoughts, Teyla turned back at the edge of the courtyard, looking perplexed.  Stephen shrugged, feeling as though he’d been caught red-handed at the cookie jar, and witnessed her bewilderment melt into a sunny smile.  Had she actually heard those thoughts, or did she just pick up on his feelings?  Either way, she had an uncanny knack for reading him, as though he was a favorite book that she had already nearly memorized.  She raised a hand to wave farewell, and sallied off to class, leaving him pleasantly unsettled—and resolving to keep his growing fascination with his newest, favorite student buried, deeper down than she might inadvertently detect it.
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leviathanspain · 2 years
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living legend
pre accident!doctor strange x reader
synopsis: fucking your boss is all nice and dandy until he won’t shut the hell up
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“stephen?” you finally cut him off his rant on his surgery success that he had earlier that day and he looked at you with an eyebrow raised. you were currently hovering over his crotch, his cock in your hand as you lowered yourself on it. his head was leaned back against the headboard of the bed, you draped in his lap.
“shut the hell up.” you moaned as he filled you to the brim. his cock felt so good, you almost wanted to scream in pleasure.
stephen smirked, “why do you choose to fuck me then?”
you began to bounce on his cock in a frustrated manner, your tits bouncing in his face. “because i cant function without fucking the shit out of you, knowing damn well no one else will.” you were half joking, you really couldn’t function without him.
he groaned softly, his mind half away as he focused on the feeling of you around him.
you gripped his hair, as you rammed your hips onto him. his cock was hitting your cunt at the perfect spot, and so you leaned back, grinding down on him as you got closer.
stephen was gripping your hips tightly, his hands digging into your skin as he groaned in pleasure and pain.
“fuck you.” you whispered, panting in pleasure.
stephen chuckled, “i already am, sweetheart.”
stephen took the control now and rammed into you as you did into him, the sound of your skin colliding was the only noise, the slapping.
you threw your head back, “holy fuck!” you screamed, shaking as stephen still continued to fuck you. he was groaning in pleasure as he pulled out, spilling his cum onto your thigh.
you rolled onto the bed next to him, and stephen didn’t even so much as look at you as he admired himself in the mirror across the bed.
“you just fucked a living legend. impressive for an intern.” he looked at you, expecting a thank you but you scoffed, “more like a walking nightmare. before i started sleeping with you, you were considered insufferable. many say i made you tolerable.”
stephen laughed, “you hate me, don’t you?”
you nodded, “i’m glad you finally realized.”
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fineprintedsunsets · 10 months
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          ⚚ Study Buddies ⚚
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Sypnosis: Your Doctor Stephen Stranges Student at the New York Hospital, You decide to ask him for help on medical papers with a due-date up and coming. The help expands far more then to just some papers. After all, he is your mentor, how could he refuse you?
Word Count: 2.2k
!Trigger Warnings! 
-thigh riding obvi
-stephen strange X no specific oc
-she’s his student/ta at a hospital.
-workplace rom!
-age!gap 19(F) 36(M)
-pre-accident
-mentions of daddy!kink
-Praise 
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ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : 
  Such A Whore - JVLA
1:35 ───ㅇ───── 3:47
The way his hands work with tools was, (normally) something so meticulously unforgettable you would never think it would happen to fascinate you. You supposed it was up to the eyes of the beholder, or in this case, the one that held the scalpel. Recently, you had been receiving more and more invites to spectate Doctor Strange’s surgeries. It was an honor only the highest can bestow. 
You loved the looks he gave you. Even if they were nothing special. He looked at you. It was hard to say that for anyone else at the NY Hospital. Female doctors, nurses, an even some desk woman would oggle all day long at the doc’s looks. You couldn’t blame them, it was hard not too.
Strange’s hand did not shake once as he lined the scalpel against the man’s chest, and cut, sticking a tube through the small incision. No one seemed to breath during theser procedures, the clock would tick, the occasional sneeze would slip free. But nothing could break the silence for you, not when you were so interlocked with his fingers, his handi-work, the way he makes it look so effortlessly easy.
“Billy.” Doctor Strange gruffs, tilting his chin towards the man. Bill nods, taking the tray away with the blood, putting it off to the side before replacing it with a clean one. He never gets a thank-you, just a chin-tilt. 
The intense moments went on for another hour as you watched the man save a womens life, sending her back to her hospital room. The only diffrence? She was now breathing. After the procedure comed to a close, you exited pulling off your scrubs and tossing them in a bin. A quick glance at the clock told you it was lunch. 
You nod at a few passing doctors, smiling as you office doors come into view. Pushing them open you let out a breath, relived you could finally get some alone time. It’s been a long day, and the frozen grapes you stuffed in the employes fridge (although, not so frozen anymore) were the perfect little treat. 
You grab the container, eyeing the treats, watching them slip and slide in the container. The refrigerator door closes as does the other one, as you roam the halls of the hospital, trying to find the perfect spot. 
Unfortunately, it’s not very warm outside. The winter weather aftermath coating the outside picnic tables and bences with it’s frosty revenge. You settle on a supply closet. Sure, filled with unknown samples, dangerous chemicals and a few wheelchairs. It’s still a private place. 
You even catch a small smile as you see one of, what must be, an extra examination table. It must have been placed in here when they relized they had had one to many. 
Setting yourself up on the patient bed, moving to dangle your legs off the end as you open the container with much considered anticipation and pop one of the frozen fruits in your mouth. The simple, yet elegant flavors wash over your tongue, making you grab one after the other. The paper protector crinkles as you shift, finding the most comfortable spot on the bed. 
Your mind roams over the rest of the days activities. There’s a collage dinner you had been invited to, but they usually ended up in older colleges bragging about opportunities you would be overlooked for. Being 19 has it’s perks, as it does its disadvantages. You sigh, popping another grape in your mouth as you hear the door creak, starting to straighten up. 
Your breath gets caught when you see Dr. Strange. He stops when he sees you, a curious look drawing over his face. 
“Lunch break?” He ask, 
“Yup.” You lift up the container in an effort to show it’s contents. 
Cocking a brow as he walks closer, the door shutting behind him. He reaches into your container, grabbing one of the last remaining grapes, plopping it into his mouth. Stephen smiles at the taste, a gesture so simple but nonetheless making heat pool between your thighs. 
“That’s lunch?” 
“Yup.” You reply, finishing off the container and capping the tupperware back up. Before you slide off the bed and head for the door you catch his eyes on you. It’s just like the other looks he cast at you, nothing different. 
“Is that all you have to say?” 
You see the amsment on his face already, 
“Yup.” You smile, slipping off the bed, fixing the paper before walking to the door. Stephen’s eyes burn at your back, you feel them. The reports that are due Tuesday are getting closer and closer, and some of the things you don’t quite understand. Perhaps if you turn in the reports to head of office yourself and force them to look at your work they might start to consider you. 
Just maybe. 
You spin around, facing him. His eyes locked on the shelves, seemingly looking for some lost medication.
Clearing your throat, you start to speak, lowering your gaze to the floor. “Would you be able to help me with uh, some papers due this Tuseday.” You swallow, as if what you just did was the hardest task known to man. It was normal, your his TA, he’s your mentor. It’s what they do, Help. 
Dr. Strange is suddenly standing over you, crowding your frame against the door. You could slip out right now if you wanted to, but something is holding you there. Stephen grabs your chin, forcing your gaze to lock with his, holding you there with just his thumb and forefinger. You can smell his aftershave, your crowded in it. His scent. Everything is Stephen. 
“Look at me when you speak.” Strange’s voice is deeper, and that heat pools in your stomach, making the storage closet seemed 10 times as small as it usually is. 
“Can you help me?” You swallow, unable to look away from his blue eyes. They are the hook holding you in place, or perhaps it’s just his very existence. Even as you try to push the unwanted feelings down, they always come back to the surface. Poking and prodding. 
“Yup.” You cringe as he mocks you, a smile playing at his lips from your reaction. He exists, grabbing the pills he needed, taking his intense gaze and scent with him. 
Now, you wait. 
“Your too distracted, how do you expect to get work done?” You shift from your seat on the couch. Your thighs rubbing against eachother, the friction only making the pent-up frustration grow. Ever since he walked through your apartment door, it’s been impossible to focus. 
“What are you so distracted by, kid?” Dr.Strange gruffs, throwing the paper back on the Coffee table. His eyes are on you now, you can feel them bore into you. Flipping your insides around. If only he would rearrange them. 
Jesus. Knock it off. He’s your mentor. 
“You.” You whisper barely audible. Strange’s eyes never leaving your body. You suddenly feel them rake lower, noticing the way your thighs are clenched against eachother, the way your tummy rises and falls. 
“Well then, why don’t we take care of that ache. So you can get this work done, hmm?” Your eyes shoot up from their place on the floor, finding their way to his blue eyes. A smile plays on his lips. 
“No. Were colleagues- your my mentor-” Stephen leans in, his breath coating the shell of your ear, 
“And Mentors are supposed to help their students.” The words make heat pulse right to your clit, pratically begging for the realease you’ve been holding in all day. He pulls away, watching as you struggle between what’s right and wrong. 
This was wrong. 
Yet somehow, it made you want to do it more. 
The look you passed him was enough, he pats his thigh, brushing his finger over his clothed knee. 
“We can't make a mess, baby. Ride my thigh.” 
You only nod, feeling every emotion under the sun as he pulls you to him, forcing you to straddle his lap. Stephen’s fingers fins your hips, caressing the curve of your ass as you positioned your clothed heat right over his thigh. Feeling the muscles beneath you, your begging to move. Except he dosen’t let you. 
Not yet.
“Take off those shorts for me. Pesky things, all they’ll do is get in the way.” God. Your cunt clenches at the sound of his voice, at how deep it’s gotten, practically a growl. You do as your told, pulling away from him to shimmy out of your sleep shorts. It was inapproiote to where them, but apart of you hoped he noticed.
Stephen did, although he acted as if he didn’t know you were rubbing your thighs together, or watching as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, examining the now forgotten papers. He only wanted you to ask. Its all you had to do, ask him and he would. 
“Come back to me.” Strange reaches his arms out, but you are already there, straddling yourself on his lap. You hold onto his broad shoulders as he positions your hips, resting both hands on either side of your ribcage. 
Guiding you.
He guides your hips forward, his erection throbbing against his slacks. You grind on his thigh, liquid heat pouring out of you. Stephen sees the evidence of your ache on the fabric of your panties and groans.
You feel a sudden burts of confidence, starting to move your hips freely, getting yourself off on his thigh. Dr.Strange lets you, resting his hands on your ass, letting you take the wheel.
You chase the feeling of him underneath you, allowing you to use him. You stop, settling on the thought before freezing in place, seeing his eyes locked with you. 
“I’m not aloud to look at the pretty girl humping my leg?” Stephen suspends a smile, looking as if he dosen’t know whats wrong. What’s making you stop. He does. He knows it as well as anyone that this is wrong, but he keeps his face composed and cool for you. After all, that ache will just get in the way. It makes embarrassment shoot up your spine. God. What were you about to do? Come on his leg? Your mentors leg?
You go to pull away, still incredibly horny, the embarrasment burying itself in your gut. Stephen stops you though, forcing your hips back down. A gasp escapes your throat as his knee pushes into you, contacting your clit with sparks of pleasure. You fall into him, positioning your neck at his shoulder, heavy breathing coming off of you. 
“It’s okay baby-” He starts, turning to meet your ear at the slope of his neck. 
“-get your pretty little cunt off on my thigh.” Your groan, burrying your nose in his neck as you begin to move your hips onto his knee as he pushes into you. You can smell his body wash, Irish Spring you’d guess. Feel him everywhere. One of his hands goes to the back of your neck, holding you against him as the other slips between your two bodies, playing with your clothed clit.
You arch closer, all while pistoning your hips against him. You chase the high, barely believing this is how your getting off. It’s nothing but a dream. Stephen’s fingers pull away when he sees your movements start to speed. He knows your getting close, that quickly? It makes him smile. 
Stephen growls in your ear, his words a low whisper. “You need my permission to come. Ask for it.” You nod, his fingers tightening on your neck. He tries to hide a smile when he feels the goosebumps his fingers leave.
Only his touch.
“Yes, Sir.” You groan, his fingers release you, before cupping the back of your throat again, a bit more gentle. Your coming, your about to come. The feeling builds and builds as your hips start to move faster, but before you do, before you let the dam break, you decide to mess with him. 
Dr. Strange wants you to ask for permission?
Ok. 
You arch a little, reaching his ear. In between breathy moans you mange to get out four words that send his whole body on fire, most of that heat flowing towards his throbbing cock. 
“May I come, Daddy?” You arch and sway, digging his thigh deeper onto your cunt. Moving on the muscles that come undone underneath. The wetness growing by the second. You hold out for him, but it’s becoming to much. Stephen sits there, looking shocked before he growls.
“Yes, Come on my thigh like a good girl.” Your pussy clenches around nothing at your mentors filthy words. He pulls away from your neck to guide your hips as you come. 
“Jesus. Kid.” He pants, sounding more breathless then you. You stay there for a moment, before pulling away from his shoulder to look down at him. 
“I can’t believe that just happened-” 
He smiles, his face looking much more bright then when he arrived. 
“Is the ache gone?” 
You nod. Gone? Its just getting started. 
“Good. Let’s get back to these papers.” You groan as you fall onto the seat next to him, watching as his eyes follow your movement, seeing your breast bounce at the action. 
“I’ll give you a reward if you finish these tonight.” Stephen smirks as you grab the papers as fast as you can, studying harder then you’ve ever had before. 
“Good girl.”
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jokatsuya · 1 year
Text
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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Stephen’s Birthday
My Masterlist
Okay, so part of this wound up me being able to rant about random space knowledge that I have due to a class that I’m taking right now called Earth & Space Science. So, therefore, y’all get some space talk.
Pairing(s): Stephen Strange x Reader
Warnings: Space talk, Reader being nerds with Bruce and Peter, Stephen not knowing how to fix the space issues, mentions of Stephen’s car accident but not in detail, Stephen gets drunk because he’s not driving, clingy!stephen when he’s drunk, reader takes care of him, Stephen has nightmares due to the accident.
Word Count: 1911
Summary: You invite some of Stephen’s friends out for his birthday, after the dinner you take care of your very drunk fiancé.
Being engaged to Stephen Strange hasn’t always been easy. 8 months ago, he got in the car accident that almost took his life, and when he realized he would have a very hard time ever using his hands again, he went on a complete mental break. You wouldn’t let him push you away though, you had honestly seen Stephen in much worse states than this, as the two of you met in university while he was starting his pre med program and you were starting your program in astrophysics. (Stars are cool as fuck, sue me.) You shaved for Stephen, drove him everywhere he needed to go, and even went to the Kamar-Taj with him. You could do the basics of magic, but nothing like Stephen could do now. 
In doing so, you had taken a sabbatical from your research job at the university that you and Stephen both went to, claiming that you were studying the stars in other parts of the world. Which you actually were, as Stephen would portal the both of you around the world to study eclipses and other astronomical events like meteor showers and the other planets lining up perfectly.
When Stephen became the Sorcerer Supreme, he moved back to the New York Sanctum, and you moved with him, returning from your sabbatical and writing multiple papers on everything you saw, sending it to other professors you had consulted with along the way for proof-reading and credits. 
Finally back to what had become your new normal, you spent your days studying the universe and your new project was attempting to figure out what dark energy really was. Generally, physicists, astrophysicists, and other people interested in space knew that dark energy was an invisible force opposing gravity, pulling galaxies within the universe apart, making up about 75% of the universe. Dark matter, which many physicists study represents about 21% of the universe, appears to be subatomic particles that we can’t see due to the fact that it rarely interacts with other matter. And then there’s the matter that we can see, making up 4% of the observable universe, as it’s unknown what we can actually see because at a certain point, when we’re seeing light years away, we can’t see that far back in time.
“Darling, not to disregard your work, but you’ve told me this a million times.”
“I know, Stephen! But I can’t figure it out!” You exclaimed, flopping down on the bed.
Stephen kissed your forehead softly, “Well, why don’t we not think about it tonight? We have reservations.”
“I know we do. Happy birthday, honey.” You pulled him in for a kiss.
“You’ve wished me a happy birthday about a million times already today, darling. And we don’t exactly have time to start something here.”
“I wouldn’t dream of having you miss reservations at your favourite restaurant with your favourite people.” You told him, standing up and pulling your favourite dress out of the closet.
Stephen raised an eyebrow at you through the mirror. “Is it not just dinner with you and me?” You shook your head, chuckling at the incredulous look on his face. “Who else have you invited? Because you are my favourite person in the world, darling.”
“Christine and her husband, since I know they’re the only two coworkers at the hospital that you could stand. And also Tony Stark and Bruce Banner because I know you tolerate them now that you’re an Avenger.” At that moment, you got a text from Tony. “And Tony is bringing this kid that he’s essentially adopted, that's actually SpiderMan, apparently his name is Peter.”
“A kid? Really?” Stephen asked, uninterested.
You read the next message from Tony as it came in. “Apparently he’s 16 and goes to that highschool for super smart kids in Queens. Peter Parker.”
Stephen mused, quickly lost in thought now that you’d recaught his attention. “I wonder if there’s any relation to a nurse I used to work with at the hospital, May Parker.” He tied his tie shakily, throwing his hands in the air when he couldn’t do it like he used to.
“Oh, come here, honey. We have to get going anyway.” You said, swiping on some makeup, tying Stephen’s tie, and dragging him out the door.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The car ride was silent on the way to the restaurant, as it usually was when Stephen was in a slight mood regarding his hands, so you knew not to turn on the radio. 
Getting out of the car, you were greeted by Christine, her husband, Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, and Peter Parker. Obviously Tony or Pepper had dragged Peter out to get a new suit as his tie was crooked, which you quickly fixed after reassurance that it was okay that you did so.
You all sat down at a table in the back, Tony using his money to make sure that it was as private as possible and quickly started up a conversation. Which, conveniently, was Peter asking you about what you did for work. When you explained the predicament that you were in with dark energy, and that you were letting other scientists focus on dark matter, both Peter and Bruce immediately had ideas on how to establish its existence, which had you promising to bring them to the research room at the university one day next weekend and adding both their names to your next paper if they ended up helping with a discovery.
After all the space talk had died down (not without Tony chipping in more ideas, all of which you noted in your phone quickly so as to not forget them), Stephen’s least favourite topic came up, his car crash. “So, Stephen, how are your hands doing? You look good.” Christine asked.
“I- um, I still shake a lot, Y/N helps me with a lot of things, but I’m still very shaky, even with the magic.”
“Couldn’t you do what that one guy did that used his knowledge of magic to walk again, just with your hands?” Tony asked carefully.
Stephen shrugged, grasping your thigh under the table with his left hand. “I’ve never tried, but hands are so sensitive anyway that I don’t think it would be beneficial to.” You used your non-dominant hand to squeeze Stephen’s hand in reassurance. 
Pepper was able to see what a sensitive topic this was for Stephen and immediately started up a new conversation. “So, Peter, what have you been learning in school?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After dinner, the 9 of you stayed in the back of the restaurant talking, after you had paid, none of you really wanting to go home yet. Eventually Peter remembered that he had school in the morning and so Tony and Pepper left to drive him home. Natasha gave you her number with a promise to keep in touch, knowing what it’s like to be in a male-dominated profession and telling you that she would always be a listening ear if you needed one. She and Bruce left not long after with a promise of Bruce coming to the university next weekend to help you with your issue.
Christine and her husband left shortly after, with Christine apologizing to Stephen before she left for bringing up his hands after the accident. You and Stephen were the last to leave, slowly making your way to the car as Stephen was feeling you up.
“Oh, honey. Did you have a bit too much to drink?” You asked, wrapping one of your arms behind his back.
“No.” He mumbled, nuzzling into your neck. “I just love you. You take such good care of me, darling.” 
You chuckled, helping him to the car a little faster. “Aw, honey, you really are drunk.” You unceremoniously dumped Stephen in the passenger seat, buckling him in and closing the car door behind him before going around to the other side of the car.
In the time it took you to walk around to the other side of the car, Stephen had turned on the radio, changed the station, and turned on the heated seat and steering wheel for you, knowing how cold you can get in the middle of November. “Love you so much darling, thank you so much for everything that you do for me.” Stephen said, looking at you with lovestruck eyes.
“I love you too.” You said, kissing his forehead softly before buckling yourself into the car and pulling out of the parking lot. “Now, let’s take you home, my drunk fiancé.”
“‘M not drunk.” He mumbled, starting to hum along to the song on the radio. “Can we fuck at home?”
“You are drunk, my love. That’s the only time you swear.” You parked the car in the special underground part of the Sanctum that nobody knows about, and practically carried Stephen upstairs to your bedroom. “Okay, let’s get you out of your nice fancy suit, okay honey?”
“Whatever you say my sweet, darling wife.” Stephen said, stripping out of his suit as quickly as possible and laying on top of the sheets naked.
You looked over at him fondly, watching as he waited for your next instruction. “You wanna sleep naked tonight, hun?” He nodded frantically, almost like an overtired toddler. “Alright sweetheart. Let me just get into some pajamas.”
“No!” Stephen exclaimed. “Want you to sleep naked too!”
You chuckled softly. “Okay, honey. Let me just take my makeup and jewelry off and get out of my dress, okay?”
“Okay.” He mumbled, rolling onto his side to watch you. Before getting undressed, you filled Stephen a glass of water and made him drink it down. You refilled it and put it on the nightstand, placing a bottle of Advil next to it so Stephen could take them in the morning. 
Getting undressed, you looked at Stephen through the mirror again. “You know how much I love you, right, Stephen?”
“Of course I do, darling. Now c’mere.” He said, making grabby hands at you. You crawled in bed with him, dragging Stephen under the covers with you. You curled up against Stephen, resting your head on his chest and throwing one arm across his torso while he had one arm behind your back, keeping you close to him. “I know I don’t say it enough, my love, but I love you with every fiber of my being, and I’m so happy we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together.”
His voice rattled your head softly as he spoke, and you felt as though it was his soul speaking directly to yours. “I love you too, Stephen, so much so that I don’t even know how to put it into words.” You said, pulling him in for a kiss where you tried to tell him everything you couldn’t say. “Can we go to sleep now?” You asked softly after the two of you broke apart for air.
“I’m scared.” He whispered. “What if I have a nightmare again?”
“I’ll be right here to protect you and hum you back to sleep, okay?”
“Okay.” Stephen said softly. “But would you sing me to sleep first? It might help.” You started humming whichever song Stephen had played on the radio earlier, and whatever song came to mind afterwards, not stopping until a few minutes after you felt Stephen’s breathing even out.
You softly drew shapes on Stephen’s chest until you fell asleep. “I’ll always protect you, sweetheart. I love you.”
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faithinhome · 2 years
Text
Neighbor Next Door- Stephen Strange / Female OC
18+ | Minors please DNI
Summary: anna had always thought the doctor next door was attractive. and one interaction left her itching to get more of him.
Tags: age gap (25F & 40M), cheating (but not in the way you’d think), strong language, smut.
Chapter 1: 60 Seconds, Only
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"you put a halt to an entire party because a 40 year old man told you to turn it down a little bit?" sam raised a brow, shaking his head.
anna crinkled her nose and shook her head, "why did he and now you, bring his age into this?"
"because, you're acting ridiculous" sam rolled his eyes. "what do you think he's gonna do? fall in love with a 25 year old girl while he's married and also 15 years older than you?"
"look, i never said i wanna be with him" anna sighed. "i can't help that i like him. he's just so hot"
sam opened his mouth to talk but shut it right up. he couldn't argue with that. the man was definitely hot.
"all i'm saying is" anna continued. "i'd just like some attention once in a while"
"fuck no" sam protested immediately. "no way. he's married."
"i said some attention. like distant looks and whatnot. i'm not asking to fuck him."
"still no. emotional cheating."
"that's bullshit" anna rolled her eyes. "you've never had a crush on anyone else outside of a relationship?"
"never strong enough to act on it" sam countered. "it's in your best interest to drop it"
"who’s asking anyone to act on it? that’s my whole point. passive attention isn’t acting on it."
“still no.”
“okay, prude” anna rolled her eyes.
"don't make me say it" sam warned and anna playfully smacked his arm.
“call me a slut, i don’t care.”
"can't you find someone your own age?" sam asked as they made their way to the bookstore.
"what? like jeff passed out on my couch last night?" anna asked pointedly. "sure. because guys my age are just so delightful"
sam was running out of arguments so he just changed the topic. he knew anna wasn't a home wrecker so he decided not to stress on it too much. she hated cheaters. she also talked a lot of shit that she really didn't mean pretty much 99% of the time.
...
so, sam wished he'd continued trying to put pressure on anna to keep it in her pants because her slut o' meter was about to break anytime and sam blamed himself.
it all started when sam walked out of her room one day while they were hanging out, watching anna frantically undress and put on a pink skimpy swim suit and grab a spray bottle, spraying her hair and body.
"uh, are we doing a photoshoot?" he piped up, causing her to jump. "perhaps, pre-wetting ourselves for the beach?"
"ew" anna crinkled her nose. "no, shut up. we got strange and palmer's mail, im gonna go return it to them"
"and then go join them in their pool?" sam raised a brow.
"no". that was the only explanation anna provided as she checked herself out in the mirror, fixing her hair.
she knew she couldn't just show up in a bathing suit acting like this is just how she dressed. so instead, the sheen liquid on her hair and body was going to give the idea that she'd just come from the beach.
"this.. might be a bit too slutty to show up at their door" anna murmured to herself.
"ya think?" sam joked.
anna grabbed a long, sheer chiffon from the floor and put it on before grabbing the envelope. "that should do.”
"yeah, that definitely helps" sam responded sarcastically but his friend was out of the door before he even finished the sentence.
anna rang the bell without a second thought. she didn't quite feel nearly as confident as she looked.
but she'd learnt from a young age to fake it, and now it came a lot more naturally to her. except for maybe when an insanely charming neighbor was involved.
when the door opened, she was met with soft green eyes and a polite smile.
"oh hey there, ms. palmer" anna flashed a smile, a little sad it wasn't stephen that opened the door.
"hi" christine smiled, appearing a little confused.
"oh um, i got your mail by accident, i guess" she started as she handed her the mail.
"food's ready babe" anna heard a lower register come up from behind christine and she felt her stomach flip.
heat flushed her cheeks as he showed up behind christine, his eyes falling on anna.
"oh thanks, love" she smiled at stephen. "she was just dropping off our mail."
anna waved a quick hello at stephen.
to ensure this visit wasn't short lived, she added, "and im really sorry about the party last saturday night. i'll remember to keep it down more often. and uh, thanks for being so nice about it.”
stephen quickly scanned anna as he gazed between the two. quick enough for her to not have noticed. almost as if to compensate, he wrapped his arms around christine, smiling over at their neighbor. "no worries"
christine just smiled and nodded in response and anna figured it was time to get out.
"have a good day, you guys." she smiled and backed away. "see you around"
"thanks for the mail!" christine smiled before closing the door.
"wish i could go to the beach today" christine said as she put the envelope into a small tray with the others, deciding to open it later.
"i know" stephen cleared his throat as he set the table for breakfast. "but duty calls."
"sadly" she smiled as she slid into her seat. "thanks, love.”
stephen was still a little smitten from the little interaction he'd had with their neighbor.
he was always respectful of women and he really didn't want to think about why anna had showed up at their door... looking like that.
was it just in his head? was he just being a sexist dickhead? or did she definitely have some reason behind showing up like that, especially after how their interaction went last night?
either way, stephen was definitely slightly turned on. just slightly. no one could do it for him like christine did. and he knew that the moment he glanced over at christine and a soft smile grazed his lips.
the two did some lovemaking before they left and stephen could definitely admit to himself that he imagined it was his neighbor beneath him, just for a small minute.
60 seconds, only.
...
sam should have also said something when wanda came over to bake some cupcakes and anna offered to take them to their neighbour, under the pretence of her starting to learn how to bake.
but wanda didn't protest, and so sam decided maybe it wasn't a deal big enough for him to say anything.
besides, anna was dressed in a cute yellow sundress. she didn’t look like she was dressed for seduction.
anna didn't want christine to grow suspicious for everytime she showed up at their door looking like a slut. besides, she did not want to be a homewrecker or make christine feel uncomfortable. she just really wanted to see stephen but she barely ever got to see him.
however this time, it was stephen who was shirtless when he opened the door. and what's worse? his body was sheen with sweat.
heat flushed to anna’s face the moment the door swung open.
and her eyes shamelessly dropped to his chest, her mouth going dry at the sight before her.
"oh um hi, doctor" she spoke softly, forcing herself to meet his eyes.
he had a small smirk on his face. fuck, had he noticed anna’s demeanour change? was he... proud of himself?
anna shook off the thoughts. she was reading too much into it because she was so insanely infatuated.
stephen honestly wondered if anna ever wore a bra? every interaction that he's had with her so far, he’d always been able to, see things. it’s not like he was ogling all the time. they were just always…there.
he also shook away those thoughts. that was none of his business. and he was probably just being a jerk to ponder over that.
"hi, neighbour" he smiled and nodded. "how's your thursday going?"
"great!" anna smiled. “um, so i recently started baking. and uh, well, sam's always going on about how i need to stop being a hermit and socialize more so i decided to bring my neighbours some of the cupcakes i baked?"
totally innocent visit and here stephen was, thinking like a fucking perv. he nodded with a soft smile and reached out to grab the tray from her. "those smell incredible, thank you so much. christine loves cupcakes."
anna smiled, her heart beat picking up. "oh wait, um, do either of you have a nut allergy?"
she felt so stupid now for not having thought about it before.
"nope" stephen smiled. "we're pretty much clear when it comes to food allergies. got lucky that way"
anna chuckled softly and nodded. "you sure did. hope you enjoy the cupcakes!"
once they said goodbye, and stephen closed the door, he began to think about what it was that drew him to his neighbour.
sure, objectively, she was definitely hot.
but it was just the sheer confidence she radiated, that always really got him. he liked strong women. that's why he ended up with christine.
besides, she was always incredibly sweet.
stephen wasn't too bothered by his feelings of attraction though.
it was just a harmless crush. maybe not even that. just a harmless infatuation. that's all. that couldn't possibly be a crime, could it?
...
sam realized he'd really fucked up when him, wanda and anna ended up at a party that stephen was also present at. and he realized anna was downright flirting with him. and he knew he had to pull her away before she acted more and more like an idiot.
•••
a/n: chapter one’s here!! guys!!!! i cannot fucking believe the positive reception this fic got from the prologue. i’m so excited that you all are also just as excited for this fic. chapters are gonna be getting longer and have more stuff happen so get excited!
also, i personally use the word slut as not a derogatory term, but as a simple word. i don’t see being slutty or being a slut as a flaw. which is why i use it so freely. but if that’s not for you, i acknowledge that.
but if you still wanna keep reading and want to be on a tag list, let me know!!
also, i forgot to add a 18+ warning on the prologue so any of you that started reading from the prologue are minors im so sorry i love you all but please dni 🫶🏼
anyway!! thank you guys so much for your support 💞
link to the fic index : Neighbor Next Door
TAGLIST
@kentucky-criedfricken @sherlux @evelynrosestuff
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Is it ever a good idea to text your ex, especially when drunk?
Pre-accident fuck boy Strange knowing exactly what he wants - quite literally what it says on the tin.
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18+ Palmerstrange smut
One Night With You… Again.
Chapter 1/4: The Text.
“Please, even if just for an hour.” Stephen frowned, walking toward the hospital locker rooms.
“You can't convince me.” Christine shook her head, walking by his side.
“I don't like going to events alone.” Stephen glanced over at her.
“You won't be alone. Its a fancy dinner, Stephen, there will be plenty of other award-worthy people there.” Christine shrugged.
“Fine,” Stephen sighed when they reached the locker rooms, turning to Christine, “I don't like going to events without you.”
“Well, you’re going to have to get used to it.” Christine spoke as she walked into her locker room, shutting the door behind her.
Stephen’s mouth opened and closed as he tried to think of something in response — he was used to himself being the abrupt one. Sighing to himself, he walked into the male locker room and over to his locker, getting changed out of his scrubs. He tucked his shirt into his pants clumsily and made his way back out of the room as quickly as possible — hoping to catch Christine once more just outside. As he stuffed his scrubs into his bag, he heard footsteps coming toward the door and quickly looked up.
“To me, a party isn't a party without a pretty little thing on my arm.” Stephen tried his best to offer a charming smile as Christine walked out of the door.
“Well, that’s just it, isn't it?” Christine rolled her eyes, not even slowing her walking as she continued to head toward the exit of the hospital.
“What?” Stephen pursed his lips, walking in his strides to try and keep up with her.
“That’s all I was to you, wasn't it?” She glanced over at him, “Just another accessory to inflate your ego.”
“What, no!” Stephen scoffed and shook his head quickly with a scowl, following her outside, “Come tonight and I’ll prove to you that you are much more than that.”
“No, Stephen,” She sighed, walking toward her car, “Even if I wanted to be a part in your egotistical parade, I can't.”
“Christine, wait—!” Stephen called to her as she continued to veer in a different direction.
“Have a good night, Stephen.” She spoke bluntly as she opened her car door.
“Uh, yeah, you—...” He paused as she forcefully closed the car door and turned on the engine, “...too.”
The dinner was good, not as good as it would have been with Christine to look at across the table or by his side, but still good enough to enjoy. Christine kept to her word and didn't attend whatsoever, not even a text to ask him how it was going. Truthfully, he knew that was a bit arrogant of him to presume she would, even for him, but it didn't stop him checking his phone every five minutes.
The ride home in the back of the taxi made him feel a little queasy in his mildly tipsy state, but he tried to take his mind off it by thinking about Christine. His thoughts went back to the times shared together in the back of several taxis; wandering hands, his fingers under the hem of her dresses, her fingers fumbling with the opening of his pants, lost in kisses until the driver stopped abruptly outside his apartment to remind them where they were. He rested his forehead against the window and exhaled slowly, almost feeling her lips upon his neck as he closed his eyes. He had his chances with several women tonight, but brushed them off besides exchanging numbers. Right now, however, as he fidgeted irritably against the seat, he was regretting not taking any of them up on their suggestions.
“Sir.” The driver spoke as he pulled up outside Stephen’s apartment, bringing him out of his trance.
“Hm, what?” He blinked hard and lifted his head, “Oh, thank you.”
“Goodnight, Mr Strange.” The driver looked over his shoulder as Stephen opened the door.
“Goodnight.” Stephen nodded and climbed out of the car, shutting the door behind him before walking toward his apartment.
He had to steady himself a couple of times on his way up, but he eventually made it to his door in one piece. Once inside his apartment, he stumbled over to his whisky table and poured himself a glass. A drop of the liquid threatened to spill when he slumped back into his large arm chair, kicking his shoes off and bringing the glass to his lips.
“Ah, you can never get a hangover if you never sober up.” He mumbled against the rim of the glass before taking a sip and sinking further into the chair.
He leaned his head back against the top of the chair and exhaled deeply, resting his glass on his knee as he stared up at the ceiling. The large apartment being so empty and quiet made him long for company even more, but being unsure himself of what his intentions would be when said company would arrive was what made him question whether or not it was a good idea. More often than not, he didn't care as long as he got his fix, but the main problem as of late was that he had come to the conclusion that nobody was capable of satisfying him the way Christine did. He pushed his hand into his pocket and gripped onto his phone, bringing the glass back to his lips.
“Fine,” He grumbled to himself, downing what was left in his glass in one go and screwing his face up for a moment from the strength of it as he clumsily leant forward, only just managing to set the glass onto the coffee table, “Fine.”
He pulled his phone out fully with his free hand and stared at the screen for several long moments, allowing his blurry vision to adjust to his phone screen. His eyes flickered over each name his thumb hovered over as he scrolled through his contacts; New number. Christine. New number. Christine. New number. Christine.
He gripped his phone slightly tighter in his hand and lightly tapped one of the corners of it against his forehead as he squeezed his eyes shut, groaning to himself. His internal battle was deciding whether to contact one of the girls from tonight or whether he should try his chances with Christine. Was he really arrogant enough to think that Christine would still fall at his feet even now?
He brought his phone back down and held it in front of him again, exhaling deeply through his nose as he pressed his lips firmly together. New girl or Christine? His thumb hovered over one of the contacts again and selected the chat bubble, beginning to type.
Christine, of course. It was and would always be Christine.
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callsignangelxx · 8 months
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Prologue
Pre-Accident!Stephen Strange x Neurosurgeon!OFC
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Series Summary: Meet Blake Shepherd, The Daughter of Derek Shepherd and Addison-Montgomery-Shepherd, and a Neurosurgery Attending at Metro-General Hospital in New York City after Needing a break when Her father died from a car Crash, During which that Time she met the Other Attending Neurosurgeon, Stephen Strange, Now In Present time they are actually dating and two of the most Famous Neurosurgeon's in Metro-General, Watch as Blake navigates her life alongside her best friend and boyfriend Stephen Strange.
Chapter Summary: With The Emergency Room on High Alert with Multiple Trauma and Neuro Cases, Blake and Stephen find themselves Swamped with so many cases ending the day being completely Exhausted.
Chapter One: Keeping Peace in a Crazy time.
CW//TW: Medical Terminology, Drama, shouting, Surgery, Head Trauma, Cursing, Stephen Getting mad at The Interns, a Bunch of Different OC's, Blake and Christine are Best friends, Mentions of Derek Shepherd's Death, Trauma, Flashbacks, Blake also calls Cristina who is your Best friend from Seattle, Blake Loves Good Surgeries as Does Stephen, Injuries, Stephen being a doting Boyfriend.
It was Supposed to be a Peaceful and quiet day in the Hospital, but Blake Supposed That it Never was, When Her and Stephen first arrived They were immediately Swamped with a 911 In the ER. In Blake's Residency in Seattle Grace she was a Trauma Surgeon before she got her qualifications as a Neurosurgeon Much Like her Father, Which she was applauded on, Greatly on, Right before Her Father's Death she was awarded for both Qualifications.
Right now Blake was going between different Patients, Both with Significant Head traumas, Which Luckily were just some Mild Concussions. she was talking to one of her Interns, Shelby, about what to do, "Get a Repeat CT Scan on both Patients in about an Hour Just to make sure, If there is no Brain Bleed then Prescribe them some Medication for the Pain and Discharge them with the Instructions to come back if they have any Worsening Symptoms, If there is a Brain bleed Page me and Strange Immediately." Blake ordered. Shelby Nodded her head Immediately, "Of Course, Doctor Shepherd." She responded.
The Rest of Blake's Interns, which were Two men and a woman stood there aimlessly, "Amy, David, James, What are you standing around me for, It's My Lunch Break and I'm sure you all have tasks to do, David I know I told you your covering the pit for that little Incident Last week." Blake said, Glaring Slightly, they Spooked off while David Groaned, walking off towards the Pit. Blake sighed as she went off to her Lunch Break, Already Exhausted from how many Traumas she had to deal with during this time, going towards the Break room, Blake Grabbed a coke and a bag of chips before settling down on the couch sighing.
Blake zoned out until she heard that familiar deep voice calling her name, she opened one of her eyes, "Ah, Stephen, you finally got a break?" She hummed. He Chuckled at her Exhausted tone, “Yeah, ER was totally Swamped today especially the Neuro Department.” he commented grabbing his own Drink before Settling down next to Blake. Blake Closed her eyes in Apology, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to join you in the OR, Chief had me on trauma Service so my interns could learn something for once.”
Stephen waved her off, “It’s no Problem, babe, I know how The Interns are.” he responded, Blake Scoffed, Letting her Blonde hair down from the Ponytail. “After that last stunt David Pulled Last week, I might as well Stick him in the Pit.” She said, Scowling.
“Oh? And what was that?” Stephen Hummed, Obviously In the mood to hear what stupid Thing David Did to anger Blake. She Snorted, “He Tried to Steal a damn organ for a Donor Patient.” Blake Said. Stephen blinked at What Blake had said, Wow Interns really were Idiots, Which made him glad he wasn’t working with them.
“Yeah, Completely Idiotic for him, He won’t be Scrubbing in on any of my Surgeries anytime soon, it will be the Pit for him for a while.” Blake said, rolling her eyes, not to mention, tomorrow, a Late bloomer to the Residency Program would be added to her Service. Stephen Chuckled lightly, Wrapping his arm around her Shoulder.
Blake Snuggled into his Shoulder, Relaxing for a bit. Until Amy Came Into the Break room, “Doctor Shepherd we need you!” She said, stress Written all over her face. Blake sat up, “What is it Amy?” She asked. The Intern Panted as She saw them Both There, “James is Killing a Patient, and Shelby is Unconscious from a Freaked out patient.” She said.
Blake immediately got up as did Stephen, they ran towards the ER, “James! What happened?” Blake Asked while Stephen Examined Shelby who looked to be in bad Shape. James Shrinked under her Authoritative Tone, “Mr. John here, Came in Extremely Combative and under the Influence of some Hardcore Drugs, he attacked Shelby Pretty bad, and then Collapsed right after, I can’t Control his Arythimas and get them back to Normal.” James said.
“Doctor Strange, is Shelby okay?” Blake asked while she tried to keep John Alive, “Yeah she’ll need a Head CT to be safe but I assume she’ll wake will with a Nasty Headache and Concussion.” he responded. Blake nodded.
Finally Blake had Gotten John’s heart beat back to Normal, “Amy, Get a Angiocardiogram to see what caused that Minor Heart Attack.” Blake ordered, the Intern nodded before tapping away on the Tablet in her hands. James was about to argue but Blake held her hand Up to cut him off. “Uh—Uh, you Are not talking, you are listening.” She said.
“You almost killed that man because you were standing around like a Idiot.” Blake Said, Stephen Right behind her, “You almost would have left Shelby to Die from an Untreated concussion because you were standing around like a Moron, Amy had to Come get me and you know she has a Asthmatic Condition!” She added. Her Blue Eyes Showed compassion for her patients and Injured Colleagues but also Anger for the Misconduct James had done.
“Guess what? Your off Surgical Cases for a Month, your on Scut, Charting only and Consults, no surgeries.” Blake Ordered, expecting him to argue back but he Didn’t, which was good, it Meant he Recognized his Mistake.
A Few Hours Later and It was time for Both Blake’s and Stephen’s Shifts to be over, Blake Slung a warm coat over her shoulders, Signing a few Papers for some Patients at the Nurses station, the Main nurse or Charge Nurse, Malia. Malia Mostly worked the Night Shift, She too over watch over the Patients like a hawk. “Please make sure none of my interns on the night Shift, Either A, Die, or B, Kill someone.” Blake said.
Malia Chuckled, “Shepherd Do not worry, I’ve got this.” She said, Blake Continued Signing herself out, She Rubbed her eyes Tiredly. “I hope your not Driving your Self home.” Malia Pointed out. Blake Snorted, “Oh hell no, Stephen’s not as Tired as I am so he will be Driving us Home.” Blake Replied.
Malia Smiled Sneakily, “You and Stephen Huh? I never would have Thought you two.” She Snorted, as Blake handed back the Clipboard, She Smacked Malia’s arm. “Shut up, it’s only been 3 weeks since we went Public with it, well More Like one of my Stupid Interns walked in on us and announced it to the whole Hospital.” She replied.
Malia Laughed, “Well Girlie, here comes your man.” She said, Blake Turned as Stephen Carried Her Coat that she had Left in her Office, helping her into it. “So caring.” Malia Playfully Cooed. Stephen Laughed as Blake Shushed her. Blake Pushed her Keys into Stephen’s chest, “Your Driving. I’d rather not Crash my Car from Exhaustion.”
“Of Course.” Stephen Replied, giving Blake a little Peck on her Lips. They left arm in arm as Malia Prepared to get ready for the Night Shift.
Blake was so happy to have Stephen In her Life, Especially when they had very Demanding Jobs, They were careful knowing that if one of them got Injured there was a Strict rule about working on family or loved ones, if you were too Personally Involved you were not going in that Trauma or OR Room.
But nothing could Prepare the couple for the Storm of Emotions and bad things coming there Way.
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eviesaurusrex · 1 year
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I’m not a huge fan of fandom crossovers, but I’m heavily considering writing one for Grey’s Anatomy x Marvel, but more like a pre-accident!Stephen Strange x surgeon!reader. I think someone once had an idea I liked very much, but I can’t remember if it really was someone else’s or actually mine lol
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Making Wanda's villain turn even less original is that in many ways, it's a repackaged version of Stephen's What If? episode. 🤔
Character wants his or her loved ones back, cost be damned. And doing so out of grief. (Christine Palmer, Wanda's kids)
They kill a lot of people on their way to getting that result. (various creatures as well as Wong and Good Strange; sorcerers of Kamar-Taj and the Illuminati)
When they achieve their result, said loved one is afraid of what he/she has become, causing them to regret what they've done.
Really, the only difference is that Wanda has the whole excuse of the Darkhold, while Stephen doesn't (because what sets this Stephen apart from his live action counterpart is that a fair amount of his pre-accident arrogance is still there). Also, Stephen technically killed way more people than Wanda did because that's kinda what happens when you break an Absolute Point and cause a reality ending paradox.
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Perhaps Stephen could have the excuse that once the Ancient One "split" him into two, his good side was quite open about how much he disagreed with what his other half was doing.
Still, your assessment is pretty accurate 👌 If only MoM had been written by a better professional than Mikey...
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darkkitty1208 · 1 year
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🗣️Talk about your favourite WIP
📄What’s a WIP you never finished that you would like to go back and revisit?
❔Choose a random WIP and talk about it.
Thank you for the ask! 💕
From this WIP ask game
🗣️Talk about your favourite WIP
Erm, I don't think I have one right now. But I don't want to give you no as an answer so, maybe this SIM!Tony/Defender!Strange prompt fic I'm working on? It's barely 2k right now and I haven't worked on it for a while, but I'd say it's better than nothing. :P It's nothing grand and isn't exactly something complex plot-wise, so I won't be working on it on the long term.
📄What’s a WIP you never finished that you would like to go back and revisit?
Ugh, tons and tons and tons of towering piles of unfinished WIPs. The next chapter to the de-aged Stephen fic could be a good start, but I make no promises.
❔Choose a random WIP and talk about it.
Let's see, uh, remember that emoji drabble prompts ask game I did back at like, February? Yeah, there's technically 3 WIPs left from that and it may or may not have been sitting in my folder collecting dust this whole time. One of them is an incredibly specific set of emojis that I hope meant 'Pre-accident IronStrange Secret Dating AU' and... yeah. I'm not good at romance tropes like that but I like exploring new things.
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sobeautifullyobsessed · 7 months
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Of Magic, Miracles, and Moonlight
a Stephen Strange x OFC Romance
genre: pre-Infinity War, slow burn romance, older man/younger woman, teacher/student to friends to lovers characters: Stephen Strange, Wong, Teyla of Hadeeth (OFC), Moraine of Hadeeth (OC), additional OCs as Kamar-Taj staff rating: general audience to begin with, later chapters will contain 18+ material
Ch.One | Ch.Two | Ch.Three | Ch.Four | Ch.Five | Ch.Six | Ch.Seven
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Chapter Eight
The Sanctum was quiet, and Stephen hadn’t thought to set his alarm—so he wasn’t surprised that he’d slept later than he had in…well, probably since medical school.  No, that’s not quite right, he reminded himself; post-accident, they’d dosed him up for both pain and sleeplessness, but he had never awoken in the hospital feeling completely refreshed, as he had this morning.  He’d battled depression, too, in those post-operative months, alternating between mourning his loss of purpose and angrily lashing out at the world for failing him where he just knew he would have succeeded in managing a cure enough so he could work again.  He’d had plenty of days when he had slept twelve hours plus, feeling like there was no point in leaving his penthouse (growing emptier of furnishings week by week), let alone his bed.  Discovering the world of the mystic arts had rejuvenated him, and he applied himself religiously to learning everything he could, soaking up knowledge and skills like the thirstiest of sponges—just as he had in his university days.  Since the Ancient One’s passing, he seldom slept more than five or six hours a night; so much to do, so much to still master, a Sanctum to oversee—but it was a life that he loved.  Even more fiercely than his life in medicine.
Moreover, he knew exactly why he’d slept so soundly.  He had needed to, certainly—and his young Hadeethan Healer had given him an unexpected peace with her understanding and unconditional forgiveness, effortlessly reading his truest need.  Astounding, especially considering the burden of grief she was carrying.  The grief he was sole witness to.  He needed to find her at once.
Stephen dressed quickly, anxious to see how Teyla was faring.  He stopped by her room; the door was open, so that he could see that she had made her bed, but she was nowhere in sight.  He hurried down two floors to the common room, just off the kitchen, where most of Sanctum occupants took their meals.  Two of the Sanctum retainers were clearing away the breakfast things, but they paused to greet him; one asked if he would care for something to eat, and he politely declined.
“We have a guest staying with us for a few days,” he told them, eager to locate her, “A young woman from off-world—she’s been training at Kamar-Taj…”
One of the women was nodding in recognition, “Yes, Master Strange.  Teyla, right?”
“Yes…you’ve seen her?” he asked, a sense of relief settling over him.
“She was here earlier.  She had some tea and a little to eat.  That was about…hmmm,” the retainer looked to her partner for confirmation, “About an hour ago.”
“Do you happen to know where she went?”  Though Teyla was comfortable enough on the city streets the day before, Stephen would’ve preferred she wait for him before returning to her father’s loft.
The women consulted silently, before the second answered him, “She told us to tell you not to worry, Master Strange—and that she would not leave the Sanctum without your permission.”
“Oh.”  Surprised, but secretly pleased that Teyla had anticipated his concerns, Stephen thanked them, and then turned to leave.  Since she had to be somewhere in the building, a quick locator charm would make her easy to find.
He discovered her in the rooftop greenhouse, speaking with an Adept who was tending to the plants, herbs and greenery that were vital to spell work.  The hothouse also contained a modest assortment of fruits and vegetables—grown year-round to help meet the dietary needs of the Sanctum residents—as well as a bee hive, situated at the far end near a section of flower beds.  Teyla seemed very absorbed in the conversation, with the Adept explaining in detail the uses of the various florae.
Stephen approached them quietly, not wishing to interrupt until a convenient moment arose.  The Adept—a young man named Dominic--noticed his arrival, and broke off his lesson in order to tender a respectful greeting to the Sanctum Master.  Teyla immediately looked to Stephen.  The moment was sunny, warm, bright—and though he knew that she still mourned, there was a light in her eyes which spoke her gladness that he was near.
“Teyla,” he said simply, a world of gratitude and affection compressed into two syllables.  He felt his smile grow—nearly certain that he had to look like an utter goof—and she answered with a tilt of her head, and an endearing, bashful sort of smile.  Stephen felt like he had stopped time, even though the Eye of Agamotto rested safely back in Kamar-Taj; his heightened awareness brought him the realization that something vital had changed between them.  Though he was still Teyla’s teacher and mentor, he couldn’t help but think of her less as a student, and more as an equal…as a friend…as a soul who’d seen his past pain and ongoing insecurities and somehow…somehow understood.  Without a need for words, without a call for explanations.
Amid those musings, he watched her eyes widen, and time began again–with Stephen well aware that she had read him once more.  You’ve got to stop doing that, Teyla; some secrets need to be revealed slowly.  He sent the thought her way, testing if she was actually reading his mind, or just his emotions.  Her expression did not change, but she beckoned him closer, her voice echoing slightly in the confines of the greenhouse.  "Are you well this morning, Doctor?”  Her greeting was solicitous, her manner deferential.
"I am, Teyla.  Very well, indeed,” he grinned, “I had the best sleep of any I’ve had in many years.”  But you knew that already, didn’t you, my dear?  You gave that gift to me.
"I hope you do not mind, Doctor Strange, but I was impatient to explore your domain," she informed him, "And Dominic has been kind enough to show me about the garden.  I had not expected to find such a lovely refuge atop a city building."
"Hmm...I never really thought of it that way, but I suppose that's true."  He came to stand beside her, dismissing the Adept with a small nod.  Dominic moved off, continuing his inspection and care of the next section of plants.
Stephen leaned close, lowering his voice for privacy sake, "How are you today, Teyla?  Was your sleep restful at all?  And is there anything I can do for you?"
"I am..." Teyla sighed softly, "I am...acclimating...to my new reality--one without the love and wisdom of my father to guide me."  Her voice broke, but she mastered her tears before they could claim the day, "But I carry him with me now, as never before--and I believe his spirit survives, merely in another form, so that someday I will look upon his face again."
"That's a lovely thought, Teyla," Stephen said, astonished at her resiliency, "It took me decades to discover that truth."  She looked to him, breathing in his sincerity as a comfort and as a fortification, "That we are so much more than random bits of material in an indifferent universe.  That thought has given me strength in even the most dire circumstances."
She bowed her head, whispering so that he barely heard her, "Even so, it shall for me."
He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "You're not alone in this, honey.  Whatever you need, you only have to ask.  Even if it's just a shoulder to cry on."
Teyla raised her chin, her eyes focused on his.  As soft as they were, Stephen also saw her resolve to move forward despite her sorrow.  "thank you, Doctor Strange.  You have been a true friend to me--and I will remain forever grateful."
He shrugged modestly, "You are very welcome, Teyla of Hadeeth.  Though I think I owe you a larger show of gratitude..."
Her brow creased slightly, annd her eyes flitted from his to look past him, drawing his attention away.  "Something is wrong," she murmured, tilting her head toward Dominic.
The Adept stood several feet away, hands on hips, closely scrutinizing a row of berry bushes.  He shook his head, snorting in frustration, then headed towards the far corner of the hothouse.  A row of weathered gardening tolls leaned against the glass, beside an old wheelbarrow.  Dominic retrieved a spade, and then returned to the plant he had been examining.  Curious, Stephen went to join him, with Teyla following right behind him.
Dominic motioned to the bush, and Stephen saw that the fruit was badly discolored.  "That's some kind of fungus," he informed the Sanctum Master, "I’ll have to uproot it, or the rot will spread to the surrounding plants.”
“Is that really necessary?”
“I’m afraid so, Master Strange.  This one won’t survive much longer,” the younger man pronounced, “Just look at the currants—they’re inedible.  And they’d be useless as part of any potions or simples.”
“Well…if that’s our only option,” Stephen conceded, “No use wasting time.”  He motioned for the young man to continue.
The Adept nodded, and turned to complete the chore.  Teyla stepped forward and laid her hand upon the spade handle.  “Wait but a moment please, Dominic.  I believe I can work a cure upon this bush; I have seen similar sickness in fruit-bearing plants on my home world, and I may have a remedy.”  She looked to Stephen, eager yet respectful, “If you would allow it, Doctor Strange.  There is a Hadeethan spell that may be of some use here.  I have worked it at least a dozen times.”
“You think it might work on an Earth plant?”
“We cannot know until I try--but I should act quickly, or the damage will be irreversible,” she urged him confidently.
Curious to see a practical application of Hadeethan magic--and remembering the surprising charm of the floating flower petals which Teyla had created for the youngsters of Kamar-Taj--Stephen stepped back, allowing her the space to work.  She took several deep breaths, and then kneeled before the bush, exploring the leaves and berries with the lightest of touches.  Gingerly, she cupped a cluster of the pink currants in hand, and bent her face close, breathing them in as though seeking their scent.  She exhaled softly over them a few times, and Stephen was amazed to see their mottled pink and grey skin turn lavender for several seconds, before reverting to their sickly color.  "Yes," she said quietly, addressing the plant itself, "I see the ill and I believe that I can remedy your distress."
 Stephen glanced at Dominic, who appeared equally impressed with the plant’s response.  “It’s probably worth a shot, Master Strange.  Otherwise it’ll be a total loss.”
“Alright then,” Strange decided.  “Teyla, please—do what you can.”
She nodded, grateful for his trust, and then turned her attention to the task before her.  Teyla placed her hands palm to palm, as though in prayer, while resting her fingertips against her lips.  She began to hum a simple run of notes, repeating it several times before stretching her hands over the leaves and berries, and gliding them in a circular pattern which grew wider with each pass.  The circle became a figure eight, her hands confidently weaving to and fro as the notes she hummed rose in pitch and volume. A pale blue light began to emanate from the narrow space between her hands and the currant berries.  Stephen noted that it was less vivid than the blue that had accompanied the fall of flower petals which she had conjured for the young Novices, but coupled with her music, he realized it was a form of magic far different than that practiced by the sorcerers of Earth—a magic unfamiliar to him, even with his many forays across the multiverse.
Beads of perspiration had broken out upon Teyla’s brow, yet her concentration remained unwavering.  After several minutes of her sustained ministrations, her soothing melody rose in a crescendo, and then declined into silence, and the blue light pulsed several times before appearing to recede into the plant itself.  Teyla breathed a heavy sigh as her hands fell to her sides, and her shoulders slumped enough that Stephen thought for a moment that she might collapse.  “Teyla—are you alright.”
Her head bowed, she raised a hand, stopping him as he approached her.  “A moment please, Doctor,” she responded, sounding as weak as she looked, “I need just a little more time to recover.”
Stephen drew closer, thinking to help her to her feet, and Teyla turned to him with tired eyes and an ashy pallor.  She took his offered hand lightly—aware of the near constant pain that lived there—while advising him, “Sir, I will be myself again in short order.  But look, and you will see that the blight has been eradicated.”
And indeed it was, for the currant berries already looked more wholesome, their dull, murky pink transformed to the appealing translucence of pink champagne, the leaves and stems grown to a healthier green—and remarkably, fresh tendrils were unfurling themselves along several branches.
“Incredible,” he murmured, gently helping Teyla to stand, encouraging her to lean against him as she began to recuperate.  “It’s more than cured,” he observed, “The whole plant looks…rejuvenated.  What is this magic, Teyla—and will you teach it to me?”
Despite her weakness, she laughed softly, “Are you so eager, Stephen Strange, to be a student once again?”
“Learning is a lifetime adventure, Teyla—that’s a truth I’ve been lucky enough to discover firsthand.  I have never turned away the opportunity to learn something new.  Never in medicine, and never in the mystic arts.  But this,” he declared, incredulously, “This is a combination of the two.”  He shook his head, imagining the things he might have accomplished as a doctor if he’d had such magic at his disposal.  “When can we begin?”
“You flatter me, Stephen Strange, implying that I am fit to teach a Master any kind of magic.”  Her tone was gentle indulgence, and it occurred to him that that she might be teasing him just a bit.  “But if that is your will, I will try the best I can, providing you are patient.  Ever patient,” she reiterated, “For the forests of Nalor did not spring to life in a mere cycle of the sister-moons.”
“And Rome wasn’t built in a day,” he chuckled, drawing a pretty smile from her.  The color was returning to her cheeks, and she drew away from him, no longer needing to lean against him to remain upright.  Stephen would’ve let her linger there beyond her immediate need to, but Teyla had already turned away, moving to rejoin Dominic in his rounds.
Curious to confirm the full success of Teyla’s cure, he plucked a few of the currants from the bush, and popped one into his mouth.  It burst with bright, sweet flavor the moment he broke the skin, so that he quickly consumed the others--thinking they were among the sweetest berries he had tasted in his life.
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Knowing that she would be well out of her depth dealing with the financial and legal matters left behind in her father’s wake, Teyla had asked Stephen to contact her father’s lawyers and the Columbia Art Department Chairman on her behalf, so that he had spent a couple hours consulting with them by phone.  She also informed him that she felt strong enough to return to the loft unaccompanied; observing her carefully, he judged that she was ready enough to face whatever tasks lay ahead for her there—though he insisted she travel there via portal.  Stephen felt doubly responsible for her now, and ensuring that she was only an easily conjured portal away, was the best compromise at hand.
After addressing a few vital Sanctum concerns, Stephen visited the kitchen to pack enough hot lunch for two (with the cook shooing him out of the way as she bustled about her mealtime preparations), and then used a portal to join Teyla at her father’s place.  She greeted him warmly, though he could tell she had been crying once again—as he had known she would need to, choosing to do so in the privacy of her home away from home.  They dined at the kitchen table, with Stephen telling her that she must eat the full plate of chicken and pasta with pesto, which he doled out for her, reminding her that she had barely eaten in the time since they had arrived in New York.  Obediently, she made her way through the meal, while he filled her in on the details of the financial and living arrangements her father had provided for her.
That done, he turned the topic back to her little morning miracle in the Sanctum’s greenhouse—giving her a welcome distraction from the grief that lay beneath the surface waiting for a quiet moment to break fresh upon her heart.
“It is not a magic exclusive to Hadeeth,” she started, “Though rarely found—according to my teachers--it is practiced by at least a few dozen cultures across the multiverse.  Its primary purpose is for healing, although you were witness to that minor charm I demonstrated for the young ones of Kamar-Taj.”
“That was a sweet little bit of magic, Teyla,” he reminded her.
She lowered her lashes demurely, genuinely flattered.  “It is quite elementary, Doctor…”
“Stephen, please, Teyla,” he urged her, “After last night—how you helped me—we don’t need to be so formal now, do we?”
She raised her eyes to meet his, surprised but clearly pleased, “As you wish…Stephen.”  Again, he found the familiarity of her use of his given name…quite pleasant…and the little smile that graced the corners of her mouth, gratifying.  She nodded graciously, and then continued, “Such spell-making relies upon the practitioner to engage in what we call empathetic magic.  To not only discern, but to feel the subject’s condition and needs, and to bond with them enough to experience it themselves--to some degree at least.”
Of course, Stephen realized, that’s what makes it a perfect magic for you.  “But there must be a cost of sorts to that,” he surmised.
“Indeed,” she admitted, “But oh, Stephen, it is a beautiful price to pay, to be of such service to those in need.”  For a heartbeat, Teyla nearly glowed with the joy of it. 
“So break it down for me, Teyla.  Tell me how to make a start.”  Stephen patted her hand, then left his atop hers, enjoying the soothing warmth which was ever present when his scarred flesh came in contact with her skin.  “Teach me. Please.”
She studied his face carefully, and nodded solemnly.  “I will do my best, Stephen,” she promised him, “For I see your desire to learn is honest and true.”
“Now—as you surely know,” she began, “All life—from the lowliest insect to the most accomplished and powerful Master of the mystic arts…”
He grinned at that, appreciating the humor of her not so subtle reference.
“…all life possesses a unique energy.  By attuning one’s own energy with that of the lifeform in need of healing, one can establish a harmonic resonance—a bond that enables a Healer to read exactly what injury or illness that lifeform suffers.”
“Harmonic resonance,” he repeated, making the connection, “The notes you hum?”
“Yes, in a large part, though there are other factors that bear upon the resonance as well.”
“And once you’ve established that bond, how are you able to heal the damage?” he challenged her, “How do you set things right?”
Patiently, she expounded, “Well, that is…hmmm…that is somewhat trickier to explain.  Let us call it a temporary exchange of energy.  And by this means, the Healer takes unto themselves a fraction of the damage…a shadow of the symptoms…an echo of the pain, where necessary.”
“That’s why you were weakened after you healed the currant bush?”
Teyla nodded, “Though as you witnessed, I did recover swiftly.”
“The side effects on the Healer—they’re only temporary?”  Stephen considered how revolutionary introducing such magic into regular training at Kamar-Taj might be, where those with the aptitude could make a difference in the suffering of hundreds of lives in the same span of time in which medical professionals might only help dozens.
Teyla hesitated, cautious in reply, “Most often, yes; they are brief and rarely debilitating.”
“Which means there is a degree of risk?”  He had wondered about the downside of the promise of miracle cures—knowing well enough that nothing in the mystic arts came without some cost.
“The relief we offer to those in need far outweighs that risk,” she insisted, a little defensively, “At least for me and my fellow practitioners.”
“Risk nevertheless,” he asserted, easily reading her—for once—and what she left unspoken.  “In extreme cases, I’m betting you’d be putting your health and life on the line.”
Teyla nodded, “It is true.  But the work that you do, Stephen…the work that you and your fellow sorcerers do…is already far from risk free.”  She gave him that small, knowing smile—the one that told him she knew much more about him than she had ever dared to say aloud—and asked frankly, “Did you not lay down your life a thousand times over to protect and preserve this world, and every living soul upon it, from a most ancient, implacable malevolence?”
Stunned to have her mention it, Stephen’s mouth went dry.  “How…how do you know this?”  Was it something she had read in him—or something she’d been told about?
Her soft, brown eyes held infinite patience—and unabashed admiration.  With a wisdom beyond her seeming years, she told him, “You may not speak of your ordeal at the hands of Dormammu, but the story is already legend in Kamar-Taj, and on worlds far flung from here.  Yet you remain fully humble, even perplexed at times by the deference paid to by your peers…”
His mouth fell open, but he was speechless--transfixed by her gentle regard, and unable to muster his usual sort of blithe reply.  
“…and even the lowliest student here holds you in high esteem for that great and painful sacrifice,” she concluded.  “Truly, Stephen, would you now claim that the cost you paid was not worth what you accomplished?”
Stephen closed his eyes; he could not deny those facts, though he did his best to avoid the memories of that time, and all the pain that it entailed.  The truth was he had made that choice with no compunction, never factoring in the price that he would have to pay.  And given that choice again today, he would do the same in a heartbeat.
Teyla brushed her fingertips across his knuckles, knowing his answer without him speaking a word.  “So you do understand, Stephen—why there is no question of choice.  Your example is an inspiration to all those who study at Kamar-Taj.  To those who have learned of your deed across the many dimensions.”  She leaned nearer to him, her breath like a soft caress on his cheek, and his heart sped a little faster as he wondered if a third kiss was in the offing.  Realizing that if it were, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from returning the favor. 
Instead, she lowered her gaze, so that his heart lurched with disappointment—and she added shyly, “As you inspire me.”
He was silent a moment, a mix of emotions swirling through his thoughts--not the least of which was berating himself for wanting to kiss a very vulnerable young woman.  Not the time or place; he told himself--and certainly the most inappropriate thought I could have, given her condition.  Stephen shook his head, declaring adamantly, "I'm no hero, Teyla--please believe me.  I am, in fact, the farthest thing in all the worlds from that."
She sat back, her eyes narrowed in such keen study of him that he felt his heart was laid bare.  "As you say, Stephen.  Though I perceive a destiny for you, in which your courage, brilliance, and selflessness will become the stuff of legends."
"Well in the meantime," he scoffed, feeling the heated blush of embarassment (and shame at his fleeting thought of kisses) color his neck and cheeks, "I'm just a man reaching through a fog of uncertainty, to try my best to do the right thing."
"Of course," she smiled, her faith in him unfaltering, "One day at a time, one deed at a time.  Your destiny will find you whether you believe in it or not."
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annesthaeticc · 2 years
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i soooooooo badly want to write a surgeon! Stephen Strange fic, but whenever i try to outline the plot in my head, there's this silly widdle voice that reminds me i got called out in twitter. an account told me that missing surgeon! Stephen/pre accident Stephen is being ableist.
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lucimorningst4r · 2 years
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To post the pre-accident Stephen Strange smut i wrote or not to post….
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