#i'm not even gonna tag stephen strange or doctor strange

[xenocorner]

"My hands aren't pretty"

"They are the prettiest"

I am sorry for my self shipping sins

[faithinhome]

Neighbor Next Door - Stephen Strange x Female OC

18+ | Minors 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, slow burn.

Chapter 3: Jealousy

stephen had no idea what he’d just witnessed. the two definitely looked super dishevelled. strange was a little turned on by the idea of anna being so horny she couldn’t wait to do it. he kept replaying the ice cream incident, and it got slower each time. he didn’t know what it meant. he tried to stop thinking about it, but it felt impossible.

what had gotten her in such a mood? was it him? it was a bit cocky to think about but then again, it could be a possibility. it was an exciting possibility but stephen pushed the thought away. it shouldn’t matter, anyway. maybe it was him, maybe it wasn’t. either way, he had a wife to get home to.

after having done enough socialization and networking for the night, he finally headed home, excited to see christine. he hoped she was feeling better.

“hey" stephen was surprised to see christine awake now since it was midnight.

"oh hi" she looked up from her book and smiled tiredly at stephen.

there were 2 empty wine glasses on the table, causing stephen to raise a brow.

he took off his jacket and shrugged it on to a chair. "did you uh, have company?"

"yeah" christine smiled and stood, carrying the wine glasses to the sink.

"who was it?" stephen asked quietly.

christine has adamantly refused to go to the party because of how sick she felt. but apparently not sick enough for wine?

or was he overthinking this?

christine sighed. "mark"

"mark?" the crease on stephen's forehead deepened. "you were too sick to go to the party with me but you invited mark?"

christine turned around, sighing. "here we go.”

"i'm sorry, what?" stephen demanded, getting a little defenceless.

"you're gonna go on your little jealousy spree again" christine crossed her arms.

"oh forgive me for ever having to be jealous and insecure" stephen coughed. "besides, im just asking. you're the one catching an attitude"

"i started feeling better and mark called to confirm for something for our lab on saturday" christine said casually. "and we just decided to meet up for wine."

"okay" stephen nodded. "could you.. be a little more sensitive next time? i mean, i was literally just asking you a question and you started accusing me of being jealous. despite knowing very well why i tend to get jealous."

"i just... didn't have the energy to deal with it. "

"despite literally being the reason for it?"

"oh god, stephen!" christine threw her hands in ridicule. "do you ever let it go?"

stephen's patience was starting to wear thin. "why are you so mad?"

"you're just constantly on that same shit all the time!" christine huffed. "it's annoying."

"annoying?" stephen furrowed his brows, his jaw clenching. "oh god, i'm so fucking sorry for the mild annoyance, christine. i'll have you know that getting cheated on was far more than annoying! so i'm fucking sorry if i act this way sometimes and it's annoying. maybe you should have considered that before cheating on me!"

"oh my god" christine's voice raised in exasperation. "like i said, here we go again. stephen, i said i was sorry. what more do you want from me? are you never gonna trust me again?"

"it's taking time christine" stephen reasoned, his voice a little softer now. he was hurt by how insensitive christine was being. but it was like she didn’t even see it. “it's only been two months. i can't stop thinking about it and i thought you'd be more understanding."

"we've had sex like, what, once since then?” christine responded in frustration. "stephen i'm trying. but you keep constantly bringing it up, over and over. how are you ever gonna get over it if it constantly comes up? you're never gonna be able to move past it.”

stephen clenched his jaw. he didn't think christine had any right to bring up their sex life. he was affected so deeply he couldn't engage in sex, because anytime he tried, he couldn't stop thinking about christine being equally intimate with another man. all while she had also laid in his arms and lied to him over and over again.

"i honestly thought that little neighbour of ours, that would help you, but no. you just can't stop harbouring over the same shit!"

"what the hell are you talking about?" stephen snapped.

anna frowned as she walked to her apartment, hearing yelling coming from strange's apartment. she froze for a minute, listening intently.

she knew it was none of her business but stephen strange was literally yelling. and that was such a contrast to how he'd been today at the party. besides, she felt responsible to make sure no one was getting seriously hurt.

"come on stephen, it's so obvious she wants you!" christine scoffed. "please don't tell me you didn't even notice that! the cupcakes, the frequent visits. she literally showed up at our door in a fucking bathing suit! at like 9 in the morning! literally stopped an entire party because you asked her to. i noticed it and i was like okay, that attention might help him feel better. distract him. as long as she stays within limits but clearly, that doesn't help."

"are you fucking insane?" stephen couldn't believe what was happening right now. "you're mad at me for not doing something that would solely be convenient to you? what the hell is wrong with you? i don't want her, christine! i want you. i've always only wanted you.”

"well maybe you're too fucking obsessed with me!" christine yelled back and stephen froze, tears stinging at his eyes.

anna couldn't really make out words. she could just hear raised muffled voices, but they were distinct. after a few moments of silence, anna figured it was over and walked to her door, shuffling through her bag for her keys.

that's when the their apartment door flew open and stephen walked out with his jacket.

anna looked over at him, surprised by his dishevelled state. "stephen.”

this was the first time she'd ever said his name and her cheeks flushed.

he stopped and looked at her, sighing.

"a-are you okay?"

"i'm fine"

"i heard yelling" she spoke softly. "are you sure you're okay?"

"i'm fine" he said once again as he started to walk away.

anna followed after, concerned, "stephen, i-"

"just stop" stephen spoke through gritted teeth as he turned around to face her. "will you please stop? what you did at the party? showing up at our place unannounced lying about some cupcakes. and then literally fucking your friend in the bathroom at a fucking work party? will you please stop chasing me? im married, anna. and definitely not interested in someone that acts like the world is her brothel or some shit."

with that, he turned and left without hesitation.

anna gasped and backed away but she doubted stephen even saw how hurt she felt at the words that had come out of his mouth.

the worst part of it all was that it was true.

anna sniffled and opened her door, slamming it shut and letting out a soft sob as she curled up against the wall on the floor, hugging her knees close to herself. she felt so small and alone all of a sudden.

...

the memories of last night immediately flooded anna's mind as she woke up. she whined softly, not wanting to get up and face the world.

"god fucking damn it."

she felt horrible. but she couldn't turn to sam for help, she'd let him down. and she couldn't turn to wanda either after what had happened last night. she regretted it. and she knew she'd regretted it the moment the high of her orgasm had come down.

"why do i have to fuck everything up?"

anna rolled on her back and grabbed her phone, her eyes widening when she saw it was already past noon.

she saw she had a few texts from wanda, surprisingly.

hey annie. hope you're okay. just wanted to say that i really don't want to lose this friendship, despite everything.

anna swallowed, her mouth dry. the text read of regret too. and she obviously didn’t want to lose wanda either. but she was too disheveled to even consider how to deal with this.

she left the text unanswered and went to text sam.

sam, i wanted to say i'm sorry. you were right about it all along. i'm going to stop. i know it's not my place and i'm sorry i made you upset.

she didn't know if she was gonna understand her place here if stephen hadn't snapped at her last night. obviously she was not going to keep pursuing him after she'd been humiliated like that.

but she didn't want sam to know just yet. it was far too embarrassing.

anna finally managed to get herself in the shower. she put on an oversized shirt and a pair of shorts, her still damp hair resting against her shoulders.

anna groaned as her door bell rang and she slowly made her way to the door.

maybe it was sam on the other side. had wanda told him yet? was he here to chew her out again? or maybe comfort her? or maybe even apologize for being a little too harsh on her?

she was not expecting to find stephen strange on the other side of the door. her eyes widened as she saw him, her gaze lowering. "oh. hi.”

he was dressed in a simple shirt and pants, his tie loose around his collar. "hi, anna."

he thought she looked quite pretty with damp hair, which couldn't be said for a lot of people.

"um, i came here to apologize" he lifted a white pastry box with a soft apologetic smile. "and i brought cupcakes"

anna smiled and nodded, stepping aside and inviting him in.

"would you like something to drink?" she asked quietly, watching as he placed the cupcakes on the table.

"um, a tea would be nice. thank you." he spoke sheepishly. he hadn't gone back to his apartment at all and barely had any breakfast.

anna nodded and walked to the kitchen, a little relaxed about how much friendlier strange appeared today.

she kept his tea down on the coffee table and invited him to sit. "thanks for the cupcakes.”

"i had to" he smiled and nodded softly. "im horribly sorry about how i spoke to you yesterday. the comment i made at- at the end."

he cringed as he recalled his own awful remarks from last night.

"that was horrible and im so sorry. i just want you to know i absolutely do not see you that way at all. i was just... ticked about something my wife said in uh, relation to you"

anna studied strange as he apologized. it felt really sincere and honestly, he wasn't entirely wrong last night. her brows shot up at the last comment and she bit her lip nervously.

"oh god, i'm so sorry" anna started, earning a look of confusion from stephen. "did i make christine uncomfortable? i really.. that really was not my intention"

"no, no not at all" stephen assured her softly. he figured after all the horrible things he'd thrown her way last night, he might as well be honest about what happened. he owed her that. "she um. we had an argument about something that.. uh, something that happened two months ago. and she just brought you up and basically said that, that she thought you were into me and that the attention would keep me distracted and prevent me from harbouring on about what happened. and that really pisssed me off, which is why i left. and then i saw you..." he trailed off, eyeing anna, guilt evident in his eyes.

anna listened intently. god, how much more embarrassed could she possible be? "did you come here to embarrass me further?" she couldn't help the remark. she felt humiliated over and over and her defensive side was starting to come out.

"no, god no" stephen pushed. he really was going to screw this up wasn't he? "i just thought you deserved to know the truth. especially after how horribly i'd treated you. obviously christine was just saying whatever in defence. but that still was not okay, and i'm sorry. both for what she said and what i said as well."

anna honestly felt bad for stephen. she could see how guilty he felt and how hard he was trying. but the brothel comment still stung.

"you... you did basically call me a whore last night" anna spoke quietly and stephen's brows knitted together and his cheeks flushed. he looked even more guilty and anna didn't think that was possible. "i mean i get that i do... i dress a certain way but. i don't know, i want to forgive you and i do. i really do. i just don't know how to move past that comment."

stephen lowered his gaze, swallowing the lump in his throat. he felt his eyes burning. he honestly felt so horrible he thought he could cry. but he wasn't going to. he didn't want anna to forgive him out of pity.

"i'm really sorry and i'll try to make up for it"

anna bit her lip, eyeing strange. she sighed softly and reached out tentatively to place a hand over his.

stephen's eyes flickered to the hand and then to her eyes.

"it's okay" she smiled softly. "i can see how much this is affecting you. i mean, now that i think about it. it... it would be kind of hypocritical to hold what you said in an angry state against you. god knows i've said some shit when ive been angry. so it's okay. thanks for coming over. it takes a big person to be so honest"

stephen breathed a sigh of relief and smiled softly. "thank you. and i really do mean it. i do not see you that way at all. i honestly really don't."

"also, i did fuck my bestfriend" anna laughed awakrdly, trying to lighten the mood. "so i get where you were coming from"

stephen didn't know whether to laugh or not so he just smiled awkwardly.

"right so um" anna stated awkwardly, a little embarassed from the failed attempt at humour. "thanks for the cupcakes. mind sharing them with me?"

"i'd love to" stephen smiled softly, appearing a little more relaxed.

anna grabbed one and handed one to stephen.

"so uh, how are you feeling today? if you don't mind me asking"

stephen gulped down his tea and nodded slowly. "i’m a little scared to go back" he admitted with a soft chuckle. "i don't know what i'd even say."

anna nodded. "maybe don't say anything? i know... you didn't ask for advice but i think it was you that was hurt, you know? so maybe christine will eventually come around and apologize"

"i guess" stephen nodded. he'd never done that before. it was usually christine who'd give him the silent treatment, irrespective of who was wrong, and he'd have to end up apologizing.

anna decided to shut up after that, not wanting to interfere further.

"these cupcakes are really good" she murmured after finishing one, reaching out to grab another one.

stephen chuckled softly. "glad you like them.”

"maybe you should come over to apologize more often, these are amazing."

finally, stephen let out a soft laugh and the air seemed lighter.

***

a/n: as promised, chapter 3! i think i should probably make my chapters longer to cover more story in a single chapter. please let me know what you think, if i should increase the length of the chapters or if they’re okay this way? also, sorry for doing that to christine. she seems to be a very beloved character among the doctor strange fandom but i think she’s always been a bit unfair to him so maybe i was projecting that on to the fic. buttt let me know if more of you’d like to be added to my reading list (or if you want out lol). as always, thank you so much for reading and feel free to share your thoughts. see your guys next week!!! 🥰

link to the fic index: Neighbor Next Door

TAGLIST

@kentucky-criedfricken @sherlux @evelynrosestuff @thewinterpoet2 @lokislov3 @loolani @0p444ls

[valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn]

I had to look up that "The House Rules" song (I've never heard that before lol), it's such a cool bop 🔥🔥

It is absolutely disheartening when the character tags are so saturated with shipping that it's like those two characters can only come in ~romantic~ package deal. Just refreshing the newly updated fics on the "Doctor Strange (movies)" tag on Ao3 is enough to see what's the preference...

Yeah I've always preferred to go for platonic stuff 😂 for quite some time I managed to put up with shipping long enough to enjoy some fics on that side, but now I'm going through a period of complete romance repulsion. In times of desperation I've even sifted through "not Steve friendly" things, but never managed it for long :P

I want to shake your hand for managing to survive as a fan of Doctor Strange, Steve Rogers and Loki while being anti Tony Stark 🤝 That must be even more rough than just not enjoying shipping 💔

At this point I should probably sign myself. Hm. Perhaps an emoji. (goes through the food emojis) I effing love nigiri. Here, have some nigiri XD

- 🍣

I'm glad you liked the song, it's a classic!

I don't use Ao3 but I can assume all his tags are with Clea. It's very tempting, not gonna lie, given that it's Charlize playing her and she's such a fantastic actress, can't really blame the fans there 😜 But from what I remember when I used to browse the site, it was kind of difficult to find something that wasn't Stephen with Christine or Stark or someone else. It's not easy to navigate when you're in the middle of a "romance repulsion" as you put it but all you see is ships everywhere. I think that's one of the reasons I stopped reading fanfic altogether.

And the worst part about this is that every time I've seen someone try to discuss the overabundance of ships, things get heated so freaking quickly. It shouldn't be so hard to try and understand each other, I'm sure shipping is great for those who do it but there's nothing wrong with someone saying they don't like romance or they would like something else or they prefer their characters to stay as friends and nothing more. It almost feels like for some people it's part of their identity and they see it as a personal attack whenever we express we prefer platonic stuff to romantic, which is a shame because at the end of the day we all want the same thing: for those characters to have a connection of some sort.

I commend you for browsing the 'not Steve friendly' part of fic though, I could never do that myself! I've tried... but I'm so biased when it comes to Steve and it would just make me mad 🤷‍♀️😂

It is rough to be a fan of those 3 and not like Stark, I can assure you. The IronStrange ship shocked me the first time I saw it and it still does, I just don't see how people can think Stephen would like Stark or worse, they claim they're the same? I don't get it, they're nothing alike. They say the same about Steve even though he spent most of the movies looking at him like he was a pest or something, but since he was never allowed to call him out in later movies (especially in IW/EG where he went from trying to stop him from murdering his best friend to calling him "Earth's best defender") it is assumed he realized his mistake and started to like him. Um... I don't think so!

Oh, and thank you for the nigiri! You're my nigiri anon now 😂👌

[illicien]

“Nobody asked about my writing” meme

Ohhh thank you so much for the tag @amethyst-noir! Having read these questions already I can tell this is going to become a pain in the ass to answer, bless you and thank you for the suffering.

 1: what are you currently working on? 

Far too many things. My writing tab currently has open:

One-Time Thing (third part in progress, but I have all of the parts in the same doc)

HS / Mafia AU Outline (when this starts becoming a thing more effectively I hope every single one of you is ready for me to be the most whiny bitch on the timeline; when my wife said "oh that sounds like it'll be 300k" I was like lol I've never written anything that long! But this outline... this fucking outline...)

Captured (inspired by a whump prompt, whether this comes into existence is entirely dependent upon the whims of my muse and they are feeling incredibly tempestuous of late.)

Seeing Double (This remains my comfort fic to sit back in because writing Stephen occasionally manages to help reset my brain when I get stuck.)

WB Hanahaki (I completely blame a combination of @winterbonesthings @six-demon-bag and @bicycleonfire for the fact that this even started to happen.)

To The Victors (This is literally the fic I've had open and been casually poking at now and then since before I even started OTT and whether it will be finished is also dependent upon the whims of my muse.)

And that's all WinterBaron shit I just have that I'm casually flicking through depending on what is best meeting my interests at any given hour of the day.

2: summarize your current project 

Which one? I'm literally gonna randomize 1-6 and find out which project we're summarizing.

Well okay then. Seeing Double it is:

With the sudden splitting of timelines and opening of the multiverse, some of HYDRA's experiments in other worlds have created strange pathways to other worlds; while HYDRA has been mostly dealt with in their active timeline, the elimination of a specific base has left Sam, Bucky, and Zemo faced with an actively Winter Soldiered Bucky Barnes. Not quite sure how to handle their new situation, and mildly unnerved by the fact that this Winter Soldier has decided that obeying Zemo of all people is the best choice, Sam suggests taking him to Doctor Strange - because if anyone's going to be able to figure out sending him back to his own dimension, a sorcerer seems like the best option.

3: summarize your current project poorly 

(Same project? Different project? Different project.)

Zemo's fucking pissed to realize that he's in love with someone again; he'd ignore it, if it wasn't literally killing him.

4: describe your favorite character or characters

Tea sluts.

Oh, did you want a better description? Well you aren't getting one. They're tea sluts. You think they're perfectly put together, incredibly in control, and that's exactly what they like you to think as they casually sip their tea and pretend they're only the most sophisticated of people.

But it takes about two seconds to turn them from sophisticated and in control into whining little bitches. And I love that for them.

5: post a line from your current project without any context 

They'd taken time to collect - the remnants of Ultron scattered in a distinctive display, pieces welded together in a manner both grotesque and hauntingly beautiful.

6: how do you get through writers block?

Skip to a different project for a little bit. Sometimes it's less that I'm blocked in terms of writing, and more that I'm stuck on a specific scene or story, and moving on until I'm stuck on something else makes it easier for me to return to whatever I was initially stuck on.

7: would you want to live in the world of your current work? 

No. Not any of them. No thank you. Especially not anything MCU adjacent. I'll skip on that, thanks.

8: briefly discuss your outlining process, if you outline 

My outlining process only really exists for fics that I am well aware / intend to be more than one chapter. For example, there was no real outline for OTT, and it did get away from me because of that, in part. That's why OTT turned into a series rather than just being multichapter.

When I do outline, however, I have a very specific set-up that involves first jotting down several notes from my brainstorming session as I typically bounce the initial concept off of someone. Many bullet points exist. From there, it's a matter of grouping them into relevant areas, and then breaking things down into chapters from that point. I'll occasionally make specific notes about particular dialogue pieces as related to specific bullet points. Before I do a final dive into starting to write pieces, I'll go over chapter bulletpoints again to see if there are any specific things that could use to be arranged elsewhere.

If I write without an outline for a multichapter story, we get chaos like Collared and Embraced which are both currently still sitting unfinished, despite my best efforts.

9: what is the aesthetic of your current project?

Okay so I'm gonna return to To The Victors for this one, even though I mentioned it once already earlier, because of all of them this one has a very visual set up.

Piercing suspension; human food trays; an old castle hall draped with purple silk and velvet; the contrast of highly mechanical chrome bits and pieces against elegant fabrics and stone walls

10: what song sums up your current work the best?

Ooo this is hard, especially since I decided to save this one specifically for the OTT finale...

We'll go with:

Tagging

Sending this one over to @six-demon-bag @winterbonesthings and @winterytrash cuz I'm sure y'all are working on something at least. @bicycleonfire too if you've got anything ongoing you wanna share 😉

[brooklynislandgirl]

Do you know me? [Stephen]

In All My Reverie || -

What’s their full name?:

"What are you doing, kid?" Doctor Strange. Doctor Stephen Strange. Doctor Stephen V. Strange. Doctor Stephen Vincent Strange. Beth looks up from the notebook, the glittery purple ink convicting her by a jury of her peer. "Not'ing," she says as an anaemic defense. Jay is quicker than Beth is, and has a good eye. "You know signing his name would subject you both to malpractice right? Identity theft?" "But I'd have you for my lawyer," Beth quips a little too brightly and snatches the notebook close to her chest. "Are you kidding? I'm going to be a prosecutor, and eventually DA." Mercifully Jay doesn't see the tiny scrawl in the margin of the page, or she'd never hear the end of it.

~*~

When’s their birthday?:

18 November. The notification rang five times yesterday at intervals, though Beth has never forgotten a date in her entire life. Deliberately skipped certain appointments, yes. But never forgotten. It didn't matter as much as one would think. She'd bought his gift months ago, purchased at auction after she'd been completely taken by surprise. There'd been art pieces that the Admiral had been eyeing in the same way as lioness stares down a slow antelope. She'd used the distraction to escape his company and wandered amongst the other guests, champagne flute in hand but untouched. Made small talk when pressed though she would rather have been home in her pyjamas working on the slide presentation. Eventually she'd come across a small gathering of semi-familiar faces; ones she'd seen flitting by in passing, haunting record stores from here to Florida and back. People with the same avarice for vinyl as her brother. They were marvelling over some rare treasure and when Beth ducked behind a few of them to remove herself from the path of the Admiral's rage, she'd caught a glimpse of the item itself. The album is widely regarded as one of Dylan's best. Released in 1975 Blood on the Tracks is host to such incredible songs as Tangled Up in Blue, You're Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go, Shelter from the Storm, and Simple Twist of Fate. Finding a well-preserved copy can sometimes be more trouble than it's worth but this one, in particular, is in near mint condition. The nine-thousand current bid seems a lot for a record, no matter how good it is, but when she realises it's from the personal collection of Dylan's manager…and that it's signed by Bob himself, Beth puts down a bid of easily three times the going rate. She leaves it along with all of his notes transcribed and put into files and alphabetised by patient name on his desk. Perfectly wrapped in simple robin's egg blue paper, a festive and artistically arranged azotic citrine hued ribbon, and a small tag that simply reads: Happy Birthday, Doctor.

~*~

Where were they born?

Forty-five minutes into another interminable Sunday dinner and the Admiral has finally run out of personal slights and sneers to lob at her from his superior seat at the head of the table. Instead, he's forced to search for new ammunition. In this case, it happens to be indirectly insulting on two fronts. She sets down her fork. Carefully dabs at her lips ~the red stain too red for his taste, makes her look a…well, she doesn't even repeat the word inside her own head~ and is silent for almost a half minute. She doesn't actually know where he was born. He has all the breeding, manners, and tastes of the Manhattan elite which should have made the Admiral giddy. Would have, if he had been a friend of Andy's rather than her mentor. But every once in a while, something trips over his tongue. A slight difference in pronunciation, a particular inflection, something she is ill-equipped to put a finger on. Is it something in the deep timbre that hints at Pennsylvania smoke and steel? Maybe the shivers she sometimes gets is reminiscent of drying corn husks in a Nebraska autumn breeze. She tactfully retreats. "I am not exactly certain, Sir. Doctor Strange is my mentor so it would be highly unethical for us to have a relationship personal enough to ask him where his people are from."

~*~

What’s their favourite colour?

Black looks good on Stephen, matching his hair even when the venerable tarnish at his temples begins to show. Wine and forest green do the same, whether they're scrubs or tee-shirts or some other forgettable article of clothing. But she notices he is constant with blue. Midnight almost dark enough to be mistaken for something else and brings out the vividness of his eyes. Almost powder blue which shouldn't seem comfortable but is, in its own right, made paler still by the number of times its been through the wash. Even his day-to-day robes which are a shade she can't put a finger on, literally or figuratively. Even so, the darker shades tend to bring his diamond-sharp features into stark relief. "Mm. I t'ink…" She analyses the two ties he holds up. One is a textured slate blue neither wide nor narrow. The other is cream coloured, watered silk. The suit they are accenting is a deep charcoal grey, a three piece affaire with a suble pin-stripped vest. She rises and pads over to his tie rack just as she's done for her brother across their life together, and instead chooses a different one, one that hadn't to her knowledge come into his consideration. She takes it from it's place and brings it to him before relieving him of the other two. "Dis one." He considers her offering for a moment, then begins to lace it around his neck. "Excellent taste, Miss Riley." He might as well have named her the queen of the universe for all that she glows at the four words.

~*~

What’s their favourite perfume/cologne?

One of the most ridiculous things that the other girls do is make a betting pool. Drakar Noir. Obsession. Stetson of all things. The closest they come is Savauge. But Beth now understands why they wear such heavy things, the likes of which they'll never get to wear on the floor because they're triggering. Cloying enough to make a patient sick. Day to day though? Hints of clean laundry ~ginger, citrus, mint~ that wears away to crisp fruit. And finally a hint of musk, one of cedar. That's the Yves Saint Laurent's Y. Such a light cologne, he might not be wearing anything at all unless you're so close you can feel the heat of his skin. For those moments where he's centre-stage, accepting an award or presenting to the board and the backers, he digs a little deeper. Versace's Dylan Blue; something Mediterranean, with notes of fig, pepper, bergamont. Profoundly sensual but still…clean. And when he's out, socialising? Knowing that he's going to be the nightcap he offers? Oh it's all power fantasy and hawthorn wood. Warm, seductive sandalwood. Dior's Farenheit. Beth ignores them and doesn't put down her own knowledge. This is her secret.

Instead she merely sighs, changes the subject.

"Structural isomers can have drastically different roles in da body. Fur'dermore, only one of multiple optical isomers may be made by da body or be useful as a t'erapeutic agent. How many structural isomers of C3H6Br2 are capable of exhibiting optical activity?"

~*~

Do they like baths or showers best?

She follows him from room to room, hands full of her phone, a note application open and she types away as he dictates notes, discusses the plans for the week and what things he's got scheduled. She stops at the threshold of the bath while he pulls the glass door open and turns on the taps. Adjusts it until the spray is perfect warm to his tastes. Anyone else in her position would make the assumption that they were invited to join him. She might even have been given a pass if she thought the same given the number of times she'd helped him scrub up before and after surgery. But that's not her way, is it? As much as she might work herself down to skin and bones to be whatever he needs most in a moment, for as often as she seems alive only when she falls under his attention, Beth seems to have absolutely no interest in him beyond his intellect. Even now she turns crisply on her heels so as to turn her back to him. The phone is turned off and deposited in a pocket. She might as well be a door. "A cross-sectional study published in 2018 found that participants who took immersion baths in warm water each day experienced less fatigue, stress, and depression. Although this was a small, limited study with only 38 participants, the results were compelling. Of course, studies also show that showers that start at a lukewarm temperature and are adjusted to get gradually colder have been suggested to stimulate your nervous system, promote endorphins, and help improve symptoms of depression." If she were a bolder, more intrepid creature, she might have caught a glimpse of the fond smile he bestows her.

~*~

How do they sleep?

The more things change, the more some remain the same. Before they parted ways what seems a lifetime ago, she would often find him asleep in his office chair, draped over his desk. If he was being truly indulgent with himself, he'd stretch out on the cot shoved behind bookcases and file cabinets. Not exactly a suite in the Plaza but such is the life of a surgeon. She fell into the habit of of draping his lab coat over his shoulders, and one year gifted him a knitted throw blanket. Cold stymies the growth of bacteria and slows disease progression; hospitals are intentionally chilly. Sometimes in winter, for comfort they would occasionally put things in the warmers used for patient blankets. She doesn't know how he slept in Kamar Taj, but even now more often than not she finds him draped over books in the library or dozed off in the wing-back chair in his seating room. His bed is a beautiful four-poster affair with perhaps the best queen-size mattress on the market, hung with heavy drapes and augmented with a number of pillows that rival her own, incredible thread-count sheets, and now? Now his cloak covers him on its own when he avoids laying down. For months she tries to ignore hearing him wake up abruptly, pushes down the feelings in the pit of her belly when she hears those sometimes muffled outcries. But if there's one thing she can understand, it's night terrors. She can almost smell the cold sweat, feel his shaky breath before she hears him pace the floor, turn on his laptop or turn to one of the heavy tomes. In her mind's eye, she can see him rising from his back. It always sends a little shiver of pain deep into her chest; they'd not allowed her to see him in the hospital, but Beth's imagination has always been fertile. She can envision what he must have looked like, healing cuts and the bruises. God, the bruises. His arms and hands struck through with pins, held in traction. IVs and machines and… And she winces as her feet hit the floor. Cold, cold, cold. She takes up her bathrobe and slips it over the thin oversized Air Force tee-shirt that suffices as a nightgown and belts it around her waist. The five feet between her door and his might have been the Grand Canyon for how long it takes for her to gather her nerve and step across. She doesn't really knock so much as she places her palm on the door. "Doctah?"

~*~

Do they snore?

He doesn't actually answer her and maybe….maybe she thinks in the moment that it is easier to beg forgiveness than ask for permission. She opens the door just enough to slip inside. She takes a breath, the sound a full-blown gasp muffled by her own hand. His eyes are closed but his breath is ragged. His brow and his chest ~not the first time she's seen it bare~ are faintly damp with sweat. She can almost choke over the feel of his tachycardia. He doesn't snore. There's no deep or rhythmic…anything. Later, she will swear she only intended to reach toward the middle of the bed and give him a light shake. Draw him back to wakefulness, hopefully banishing the plaguing dream. Instead she drapes her robe on the foot of the bed then lifts the covers. She slips in beside him. Beth is small. The mattress doesn't really transfer motion and as she settles in, on her side which is most comfortable for her, she places her hand on his chest. If she were any less concerned about him, she'd almost be horrified by her actions. Instead she simply curls up and offers him the steadiness of her presence. Let him take whatever solace he might. She only intends to stay until he's settled. She isn't sure what time it is when his voice intones her name. "Thought you'd like some coffee."

~*~

What’s their favourite flower?

They don't really talk about that night. In fact the only time it comes up again happens two weeks later. Once she's settled into the Sanctum as more than a simple guest and he decides to show her the garden. He tells her that it's sectioned, herbs for the kitchen and for remedies, and ornamental. She laughs softly and shakes her head. "I nevah imagine you as da flower type, Doct-" "Don't you think 'Stephen' is easier?" That sardonic brow rises and his eyes crinkle at the corners though his smile is more an idea than a reality. Still enough to send a swath of pink through her cheeks and she starts to look away. He stops her with a trembling hand, the scars of which brush ever so lightly against her jaw. Beth reaches up and takes hold of his wrapped wrist and pulls his arm down, looping hers through his. She knows prolonged contact can have an impact on his neuralgia. A few moments later and the surprise ~a moment of pure delight~ has Beth giving his bicep a squeeze. Her shoulders straighten, her chin rises and she lifts her face. Her eyes gleam and her lips part in earnestness, nose scrunching at the corners of her eyes. She is so taken with the sight that she doesn't seem to notice her teeth showing and she doesn't bother to hide that smile. One corner of the garden is a cascade of purple cone flowers, asters and the unmistakable clusters of orange flowers atop their reclining stems. "Asclepius tuberosa-" He nods. "Butterfly weed." Butterfly weed had once been used for mitigating pain and relieving the difficulty of breathing in illnesses such as pleurisy, asthma, and bronchitis. But more than that, the little flowers served as a nectar source and larval host for butterflies, moths, bees. A host for pollinators. "And you're right, I'm not. But I do remember how you used to talk up the multiple uses of certain plants."

~*~

Do they drive? If so how’s their drivers license picture?

Between the windows to the world that probably have some pedigree name based off some eldritch incident or ancient creating sorcerer ~a very Hermetic thing of course, to try to give name and reason to every wonder in the universe~ and the ability to make portals to literally anywhere he could imagine, Beth doesn't know why Stephen would even need his license. Maybe the longer she thinks about it the more horrible she feels, her belly clenching in knots. In her hands, the little card bears a thumbnail of his face. Handsome as ever ~he was always that, even someone like her could see it~ Hair a little longer. A little greyer at the temples. But now that sardonic smile has lost a little of it's sharpness. There's a warmth now that rises to his eyes which even in laminated plastic shine like beacons. Lighthouses for the soul, if she were to ever say it aloud. But she won't. Not with how her teeth grit, not with the way she rubs her thumb pad over it. Not with- The way Stephen's hand envelopes hers with room to spare. Wrist to wrist her elbow falls well shy of his. Shoulder to shoulder. Back to chest. Though Stephen is foot taller than she is, Beth feels the warmth of his breath near the back of her neck. She can feel the beat of his heart behind her. Without a word, Stephen can make her knees weak and… well. Other physiological responses. "Y-you don' need it." "I know." It's a reminder. Which is exactly why he does. Talismans are a powerful focus.

~*~

Do they like reading? If so guess how many books they have?

"There you are." Neither an indictment nor a question. If anything, there seems to be a touch of pride in his voice as he watches her prowl through his shelves. Of course she'd find herself in this particular section, the ones that are now his personal duty as it was the Ancient One's before him. Behind her glasses bright eyes flicker toward him but where as they often linger on him like a caress, like something that could with the slightest encouragement devour him whole, this one is fleeting. She turns back to the tomes and make a note in her little book. He can see the glitter of the purple ink. A throw-back to when she was a very different kind of student. "Any of them interest you, Beth?" Another pause and the pen gets tucked behind her ear before she fully addresses him. "On da contrary, I'm a little disappointed." He tilts his head, brow raised. "Dere is a curious…lack. I see..Book of Invisible Sun, but not da Kitab-Alacir, written purportedly by Aretus, fleein' da House of Ixion an' da Fall of Troy. Contains an extensive discussion of science and da cosmology of da universe. Maxim's primer, but not Mushaf al-Isra ~Great Book of Passage T'rough Night.~ Not a copy of da Fragile Pa'd. Easily a million books alla 'round us…an yet… Do da Sorcerers of Kamar-Taj not acknowledge oddah Traditions, Doctah?"

~*~

Public or state school? Did they attend university? If so which one and what is their degree?

He takes the stairs easily, sneakers sure and maybe a little bounce to his step, a give to his knees. In his hoodie, no doubt a pressed tee shirt beneath, and jeans, he could be anyone. A particularly striking anyone. For a moment she feels a deep sweeping sense of nostalgia and she laughs over the sharp quip and shakes her head. Once they reach the sidewalk, he shifts behind her to be on the street-side of the walk and then, hand still in his pocket, he offers her his arm, chivalrously. She doesn't have the length of arm to just graze his with her fingertips and not seem awkward or take up more room than strictly necessary. So she closes the distance. Weaves her arm through the opening and wraps her fingers close to his wrist. Almost instantly her warmth envelopes him, soothing waves as comfortable as the autumn sunlight on his back. Her touch is always like that. They meander down the block toward a little bistro they've both heard good reviews on. "Always wan aks you," she murmurs, her brow brushing the spot just above his elbow. "You find it harder bein' wha' ya are now, or when you were a' Columbia as a student? I mean I know I was chasin' ya record… pre-med to residency, don' t'ink I would have quite caught ya but I came close. Kinda like t' t'ink you knew more dan ya fellow interns, more dan ya instructors, an' were a heck of a lot brighter an' more talent dan jus' about everyone around you. Highest grades undergrad at Empire State, perfect 528 on da MCAT…you do remembah, I only score 520. I mean…you kept on operatin' durin' da Battle of New York. So yeah, question stand. Learnin' an' grow strong in ya mana harder dan med school, or….?" She isn't really jealous, but there is a reason why he was always one of her highest hung stars.

~*~

Who’s the chef and who’s the taster?

"Close your eyes." His voice is low. Dark. Sinuous. It creeps into places wherever it can find room and raises a rush of goosebumps, makes the small hairs at the nape of her neck. Beth obeys his instruction without hesitation. That has never changed between them. Although in fairness, there's a sliver of space between her lashes, she's never fully closed them, at least not in wakefulness. His fingertips graze the corner of her mouth. "Open." Her heart thunders and she hopes he can't hear it. The air ~or the man~ is too close for there to be anything else. She can smell his cologne, and under it, the smell of his skin. It differs, the scars from unmarred flesh, each layer of him calls to her in different ways. She leans slightly toward him though that's wholly a subconscious reaction. Thin. Salty. Warm. Crisp not hard, the leanest hint of sea salt. The first thing her tongue picks up is the pita chip and a moment later, a ribbon of earthy green then brine. Soft and lush. A touch of garlic. Creamy, rich. Blends of cheese. Spinach artichoke dip. Quite possibly, the best she's ever had. The cool pads of her fingertips rise to her lips as she takes her time chewing and savouring the morsel. When she eventually swallows, her lashes flutter and she fixes him with perhaps the most viscerally potent gaze that he's ever seen on her face. It's a wonder that the kitchen doesn't catch fire, that the very clothes he is wearing do not turn to ash. "Dat absolutely…broke da mout'. I wan…I wan more."

~*~

Do they like wine? If so róse, red, or white? Beer? Whiskey?

They move from the kitchen to one of the sitting areas and make themselves comfortable. Sharing the artichoke dip and olives, the dolmas ~she hasn't asked yet how and where he learned to cook Greek~ they talk. Not about the mystic threats of the world or even really their disparate practices, they don't talk about the good old days which weren't always, and they very much do not talk about the subtle but shifting currents between them. "Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring Your Winter-garment of Repentance fling." Her lips twitch. "Omar Khayyam." "Just a fancy way of asking if you wanted some-" "Whether the Cup with sweet or bitter run, The Wine of Life keeps oozing drop by drop, The Leaves of Life keep falling one by one." She too remembers the Rubaiyat, it had been one of her favourite things and with a fragment of the next quatrain on her lips, she rises. Crosses the way toward one cabinet. Like arraying surgical tools, she's precise in her methods. A glass. Chilled without ice from a brush of her hand until it's frosty. Into a shaker she pours two and a half ounces Grey Goose. Half an ounce of dry vermouth. A dash of orange bitters before sealing it and shaking. It slides crystalline into the glass and she adds a twist of lemon. He'll take it dirty if it's on offer but Stephen didn't enjoy the cocktail onions or the olives in general. He surprises her when she's about to turn. She looks up into his face, not noting the advantage he has looming over her. No, all of her exists in the slightest upturn of one corner of his mouth. The slightest flicker of his fingers and a different glass is full now. Amon-Ra, she can smell it a room away. A moment where chemistry and alchemy are one and the same.

~*~

Any favourite items of clothes?

"Hmmm…nah-ah."

A few moments later, she scrunches her face as if she's caught whiff of the trash taken out the night before now that it's had time to percolate under the sun. She sticks out her tongue. He hardly moves a finger before she's cutting him off. "Yeah, no. Jus' no." His shoulders rise and fall with the breath he takes, the slow count to ten that happens internally. When he turns on a heel to face her, his arms are held mid-chest and his hands are locked into fists. It makes her wince knowing the sort of pressure he's exerting on his hands in what is clearly frustration. "Do you not have anything better you could be doing?" The five points of her fingers splay across her chest and connect with it at varying degrees. "Makin' sure you're lookin' your best? High-high priority on my list. Now..dat dark dark navy is nice but pockets too high, you'll keep ya hands in ya trousers an' might shorten your line. Which…good. You're all long limb already. Now da lighter blue? Still dark but wi' white shirt an' pattern tie. Or…oooh. I…I no can let you out of house in dat all black: sharp cut jacket, black shirt wi' almos' Mandarin collar…only real hint of colour would be silvah wash…" "Wash?" "Yeah…wash. You know…tick tick tick, tell you time…" It takes a few seconds for her to get that he's now just teasing her. "Oh, ha-ha, you so funny. Jus' f' dat, pick out your own clothes." "Well, what are you going to wear?" "Absolutely not'ing." The imperious tilt of her chin is caught between his thumb and his index. He descends from on high, a low growl at her ear. "While I'm sure you'd be stunning, this is supposed to be a charitable endeavour." "…'Charity star' at home'… dat's what dey often say. So you could stay home, wear absolutely no kine eiddah, an' we jus' send one really big check."

~*~

Anything you like of theirs that makes you smile when they wear it?

His hands twist, contort. She can feel the eldritch energies manifest around her. Sees them in vibrant sunsets and virulent bio hazard greens, in soft sweeping purples. She will be unmoved by man…and magick both. "Nu-uh. Stole it fair an' square." Triumphant. Arrogant. She turns her back on him. His hands twist and contort again. Around a narrow span of torso. Gliding down to shapely hips. When they slide up, and they do…slide… she can feel the graze of his scars along her ribs. Her arms. She can feel the very soul of her pouring out of her body in the form of chicken skin, even her pores rising up to maintain contact. "False logic, criminal activity does not legitimise anything." Her name is just a breath of his at her ear as he claims victory. She turns to see him pull the ancient Columbia hoodie down his chest. She swears he also sniffs it, because the lingering scent of her ~warm and sweet~ remains in the fabric. Even if she does have to tuck her hands under the pits of her arms and scan the room for something that she can cover up with, she smiles. She loves their hoodie.

~*~

What do they wear on holiday?

"Dis. Dis is how I die, Jay." "What are you talking about now, kid?" "Took him home. Biggest mistake I evah make." "Including the time that you-" "EY! You said you would nevah bring dat back up again!" "Okay, okay. So tell me, what was it Doctor Sexy did this time?" Beth sends her the picture she took. A few minutes later, after Jay was done laughing at her, and catches her breath, Beth can almost hear her best friend nod. "Yep, stick a fork in her, girl's done for. Nice watch, though."

~*~

What do they wear if they’re just around the house?

A tee shirt and jeans. The very picture of Americana. What draws her eye isn't the crisp lines or even how utterly…normal… Stephen looks. Weirdly, she can't help but to take note of his long, bony feet as he stretches his toes toward the fire. He lounges almost leonine in his arm chair. Devouring the book in his hands, not even stopping when he lifts up his coffee mug to take a sip. Beth knows these are moments that must be savoured. There's no telling when the world is going to fall apart from some abhorrent threat from beyond. When one of his colleagues might come crashing literally through the roof with a reality shattering tragedy. When Wong will inform them that the dish-washer is on the fritz. Again. If her Achilles' Heel is elevators, his is kitchen appliances. But no. Now is serene. It's normal. It's comfortable. And so she allows it to soak into her, leaving an indelible impression of the scene in her soul, something she can't lose. And maybe, just maybe, he's aware of it, too…and has done the same thing.

~*~

Who’s the holiday planner and who isn’t allowed to hold the passports?

Stephen feels better with an itinerary and she knows why. He prefers to know down to the minute what might happen if they step away from the Sanctum and their practice. He also knows that kind of thing drives her absolutely insane, so they compromise. Seven days…well, six in which they trade off… He with guide books, maps, things of culture he'd like to immerse himself in, Her with adventures off the map, almost literally blending in with the neighbours, be they people, plants, or animals. That spare day is a time for connection and unwinding. Portals are not a thing Beth finds pleasant, though she does confess it is a vast improvement over flying. She's tried to explain before that she can't see the way threads of reality come together with what she calls correspondence. She says it's also the reason no one would ever see her pull a rabbit out of a hat. Something cute but inane. He lets her have it and doesn't explain that it's safer than any mod of travel they might otherwise {not} enjoy. She insists on passport pictures and creatively convincing stamps, except when they go to Wakanda. For whatever reason that she won't give, she insists they employ traditional means. He doesn't have a problem with it, it's a negligible inconvenience. "Can we go back t' Diagon Alley one more time, try an' mahalo?!" One more butterbeer and cauldron cake lunch and it's going to get ugly all over their shoes. It's bared teeth rather than a smile. "Sure."

~*~ Which type of phone do they have?

If she's being honest with herself, Beth is almost a little jealous.

Huawei Industries' Honor x9b is a gorgeous phone. Thin as a whisper with an incredible camera, storage, three day battery life and a host of other perks? It's honestly better than her Galaxy. She could go on about the vegan 'leather' they use for the outer case, too, but Beth honestly believes that the primary reason for it is the internal stabilisation of the camera and video as well as the drop proof screen. The various touch points. The….it all accommodates the tremble in his hands. The blue-light and optic protection also doesn't hurt. None of it at ALL has to do with the OS being named 'magic' either. Not even a little bit. He reaches over her shoulder and plucks it out of her hand. "Still not doing a tik-tok, Beth." "But you said-"

~*~

What music do they like? Be specific if you know.

"And dis is…." A painfully abrupt pause and course-correction. "…Was my braddah's collection." It's everything Stephen could truly admire, in precise order: each genre broken down by dates and then alphabetised by the musician or band name. One of Andy's prized recordings is Cross Road Blues, by Rober Johnson, recorded in a Texas hotel in November of 1936 and then released the following May by Vocalian. Each shelf stands six feet tall and wraps around the room. The surrounding audio equipment gets updated whenever a new sound-quality breakthrough occurs, but the two things Beth doesn't change is the actual record player itself, nor has she ever rearranged the sitting spot. His leather back reclining chair and ottoman remain where he'd placed them ~for the perfect sound! Just listen!~ a small end table beside it with drawers. One drawer contains a bottle of unopened single malt and a tumbler. There's another shallower one where her one concession lies; a clean glass ashtray, an unopened pack of Marlboro shorts that are by now probably excruciatingly stale if not turned to dust. Refilling liquid for the Zippo he always carried. And of course, another pair for his headset and the associated remotes. Her slow backing up steps are nearly soundless regardless of whether she's on thick, lush Turkish carpets or the polish oak floor they rest atop. "I'll let ya peruse t' ya heart's content. Mebbe pick out somet'ing to lissen to wit' supper while I go set table an' put it out. Aftah, we should talk about Connecticut. Got a two-proposal request dat seems to be right up our alley. Mansfield Trainin' School an' Hospital in Storrs an' Seaside Asylum in Waterford. Firs' one had lawsuit filed aftah it bein' found out dat patients were subject t' 'inhumane an' unconstitutional conditions' and da oddah was heavily used for children durin' a tuberculosis outbreak sometime in da early part of da Nineteen hundreds. Gov'nor offer us one-point-two million if we can clear it all up an' stay hush-hush." Another pause. "Pretty sure David "Fathead" Newman ‎-- Keep Da Dream Alive…won' set da right mood or tone. I hate f' break ya disco heart."

~*~

Any favourite movie/TV shows?

"What…what are they doing?" Maia asks one of the other students while furtively watching Masters Strange and Beth curled up on the sofa together. Watching some old show and pausing the stream every few minutes to either laugh uproariously ~a frightening concept to begin with~ or maybe worse, they start making gestures and murmur together in anger or disbelief. "Oh, it's just some old show about a brilliant but douchy doctor, his long suffering bff and a hospital. I don't get it either. But you know the Olds." Stephen insists that House is based on Sherlock Holmes. Beth is equally certain that they stole some of his case files. They tear through several episodes at a time. Next time it'll be Scrubs before they do ER. Sometimes Stephen has to pull hurricane popcorn out of his hair. Sometimes Beth falls asleep with the taste of vermouth in her mouth.

~*~

Do you see yourself being with them for a long time?

Beth sits at her vanity ~mirrorless~ and brushes her hair. Her earrings are resting in her jewellery box. Behind her the bed is turned down, Stephen already in it and reading. These are private moments. No rush, no pressure. A contentedness that neither has felt in so very long a time. Beth has always believed they were meant to be though a decade or more ago she wouldn't have been able to really put her finger on how it would be. She could have been happy to be his surgical partner. She never dreamed he'd Awaken to the knowledge that reality is malleable if one has the will and knowledge on how to bend it to their whim. So while their methods differ, they stand shoulder to shoulder against threats that the sleepers might never know. Sometimes when she treats a patient, he's willing to consult or at least talk her through diagnosis and treatment plan, often agreeing with her initial assessment. She's still nervous about sharing the room, the bed. If some of those delicious purrs and waking to find his arms around her is any indication, Stephen has no complaint about choosing her. She hasn't any either, and loves to wake up with her face pressed into his spine, leg tangled up with his. It's the optics she's concerned about. Their students are a priority. Wong understands just how deep their connection goes, and sometimes she swears she sees the master smile at them when he thinks they won't notice but Stephen's reputation has always been a priority to her. She'll sacrifice anything for him, even if that thing is her. She puts down the silver brush and makes her way to the bed. There's a genteel sort of modesty as she unties the robe of her belt, slides the satin off her shoulders, the rest of her. She's all gorgeous glowing skin and shy smiles as she slips into the space he made for her. He closes the book and invites her head to his chest. She takes up the offer but places a sideways kiss near his heart. "Read t' me." "Since you asked so nicely…" he returns the kiss to the crown of her head. Beth has never been happier, and can't imagine the rest of her life any differently.

~*~

Do you share a home? If not why not?

Sweat pours down her back as the New York sun glares down on the Sanctum gardens. Students are transplanting seedlings with the same care she might have transplanted an organ. From his window he can see her close her eyes and by very slow degrees raise her arms. She is an earth goddess in that moment ~her lesson is what she calls mālama 'aina: caring for and honouring the land~ and it had been part of the lesson plans she'd submitted to him earlier in the year. Her mana and that of her students are encouraging roots to take hold in the rich loam they've composted from fall through the winter, letting it ripen until spring. She tells them that there can be no growth or respect in the people if it first is not given to the earth that supports them, houses them, feeds them. Most of the harvest will fill the sanctum kitchens, the rest will go to the local food-banks throughout the five Burroughs. She even made a point of saying the top of the list is for Peter Parker and the FEAST centre. Stephen ignores the twitch and dull ache of his hands as he watches from the window, stroking his chin. He knows he owes Wong for finding her. Bringing her back to him. She isn't a hurricane, though she could be, but rather a gentle rain that moves everything around it by chipping away a bit at a time. Nourishing. Nurturing. Sometimes that sharp little bite. Whatever it is, he's glad she's come….home.

~*~

What quirk do they have that you love?

Stephen smiles. It pulls the corner of his mouth to the left and up, creases the corners of his eyes and when wide enough displays the long line of the dimples he doesn't claim to have. It never fails to set her stomach aflutter with a rush of butterfly wings that has nothing to do with the dip down in their dance. Her lips part with a sigh and if he looks closely enough he can count her heartbeats in her throat. She might not find it easy to say the words that glow in the heart of her eyes, but they are palpable as he brings her back upright. "There's stars in your eyes, Miss Riley," he murmurs at her ears. No, she doesn't say. Only you. "You gonna steal dem?" "On the contrary, I intend to put even more in them." Beth can't help the dreamy little sigh that escapes her. This award ceremony is going to be the second longest three hours of her life.

~*~

Lastly what do you like watching them do?

Beth hates that there is so very little she can do against vampires, not having the proper mana to combat the parts of them that are dead, and thus are creatures of matter. She can, however, offer Stephen the best of her protection by channelling the quintessential lifeblood of the universe into the intricate circle around them, inscribed with a host of mystical sigils. If the creature tries to cross the boundaries, regardless of what it is, it will catch fire that might closest resemble the heart of nuclear fission. Panting from exertion, she has a moment to glance up. She couldn't quite catch all the words of his incantations but it doesn't matter. Stephen stands like a righteous beacon. A general on a battlefield he controls. His hands twist as he forms his mudras, elegant and beautiful. Seductive in a way she shouldn't find him in such a dire moment but she can't help herself. Beth is all but biologically programmed to be fascinated by his hands. The scars he bears hold no hideousness. The only pain for her is that she'd not been able to reach him in time, been able to heal him to wholeness. Unfortunately that fascination draws a moan that gets bitten before it makes it into the open air and causes one of the rarest things in the world; her eyes fully close as she flinches back. The warehouse goes from guttering safety lights to midday as all around them the Seven Suns of Cinnibus dispels the darkness the blood-thirsty creature had summoned. It reacts even more poorly from the beams of light filling the space from a multitude of directions, burns at the kiss of Helios where Beth only feels its warmth. When she finally cracks open her lids and blinks to erase the after-burn images that light is gone, leaving them only in dimness. Beyond him is a pile of suspicious ash.

She smiles even if it's shaky, her voice trembling too. "I s'pose I should be t'anking you." "We're a team, Beth." "Oh, you t'ink I meant regardin' Twilight ovahdere? No. I meant for…" She doesn't have to finish the sentence. "You're a very weird little witch." "I know." "Let's get you home." His hands encircle her arms, helps her get to her feet. Neither of them care about the grime, the blood, the sweat. "I already am."

[jessybarnes]

Love Who You Love

Title: Love Who You Love

Pairing: Stephen Strange x F!Reader (Platonic) // Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: Not gonna lie...I'm sick right now and didn't count this. I'm sorry. Maybe like 900?

Tags: Angst, fluff, overthinking, struggles with sexuality, drinking, crying, supportive Doctor Strange, kissing, and maybe a curse word or two.

Written For: @comfortember

Day 4: Overthinking

Beta(s): None

"Nope. I can't do this..."

You stand outside the door to Natasha's bedroom and wipe your sweaty palms on your jeans. You finally thought you gathered the courage to tell her how you feel, but as soon as you get within five feet of her, you panic.

Your shoulders sag as you make your way to the kitchen. With all of the inner turmoil you're going through over this, a strong drink seems like the only solution.

Grabbing an empty glass, you pour a hefty amount of bourbon and down it in one go.

Yeah, this is much better than confronting my feelings.

As you start to refill it with more of the amber liquid, a familiar crackling sounds across the room. You look up just as your favorite sorcerer steps through one of his portals. He takes one look at you and shakes his head.

"Trouble in paradise?"

"I wouldn't call it paradise, Stephen. More like trouble in hell."

He takes a seat next to you and grabs your drink, taking a sip.

"Listen, kiddo, I can't relate to what you're going through, but you have to know that she's not a monster. Natasha isn't going to treat you any differently than she normally does just because you tell her how you feel. You're both adults, and I'm sure she's still going to be your friend even if she doesn't feel the same way."

You sniffle and wipe a stray tear with your sleeve, "but what if she does? What if she doesn't want to be around me because of who I am?"

Stephen reaches out and rubs your arm tenderly, his eyes sympathetic as he looks at you. He wants to help you, he truly does hate seeing you suffer, but he's no expert in the relationship department.

"Would it help if I told you that I've seen the way she looks at you?"

"I don't know...have you seen the way she looks at Bucky? I wouldn't be surprised if they're already dating," you grumble.

"Who's dating?"

You whip your head around and almost knock over the bottle of Bourbon, "u-um...I...what?"

Natasha walks over and leans against the kitchen island, her eyes trained on you. She smiles warmly and nods at the whiskey, "what's the occasion?"

You open and close your mouth like a fish out of water and Stephen pats you on the back to give you a nudge in the right direction.

"It's um...I'm just...thirsty?"

Natasha looks between you and the sorcerer for a moment, "am I...interrupting something?"

Stephen stands up and slides your half empty glass back in front of you. He moves his hands in a circular motion, conjuring another portal, before turning back to look at you.

"Actually, I think Y/N wants to talk to you about something, and I've got other matters to attend to. I'll see you two around."

He's gone moments later, and you aren't sure if you want to thank him or kick his ass next time you see him.

"So, you avoided my first question and answered my second question with one...what's got you so flustered?"

"You... "

That one little word escapes your brain to mouth filter and you want to crawl into a hole and never resurface.

"I...I mean...um..."

You're about to abandon this conversation all together and see if Tony can build you a time machine so you can start this day over. Anything to avoid the mountain of anxiety that's churning in your stomach.

"Me? I...don't understand?"

Your heart races as you make the decision to just get it over with and tell her, or it might be the alcohol that's giving you courage. You aren't sure which.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I've been acting weird around you lately. It's nothing you've done wrong...no...it's because of me...because of how you make me feel. No, that sounded wrong. What I mean is, I've been trying to tell you that I like you, but I was scared because I thought you were dating Bucky and Stephen tried to tell me that he's seen the way you look at me and I-"

Natasha cuts you off with a kiss and your eyes go wide. She pulls away and smiles, a slight smirk on her face.

"Stephen's pretty perceptive, Y/N. And as far as Bucky goes, he's just a friend. You, on the other hand, well," her gaze moves to your lips as she slowly leans in.

"Maybe we can see where this goes..."

[geeky-politics-46]

Can you do headcannons for Doctor Strange having a crush on a close friend? (Like, Im talking about when your in that "ah shit these feelings are NOT platonic" phase lol you know what I'm talking about 😂) If you want to do different versions for the different Stranges feel free!

This is a man who definitely tends to shove his feelings down or let's them come out in different ways before he confronts them.

When he realizes he likes you he starts showing off more than usual. Anything to impress you so you'll want to be around him more.

The more he's around you the more he catches himself studying your mannerisms or the little things that make you unique.

When he realizes he has a little crush on you he'll deny it at first. He'll pretend it's just a mutual respect, but he'll start doing little things for you. Like bringing you coffee or getting that book off the high shelf without you asking. Maybe little gifts that made him think of you.

When he realizes he really likes you, as more than friends, his attempts to show off start getting a little klutzy. He'll trip over his own feet a little bit. Not full on running into doors, but his dorky side pokes through his usual cool demeanor.

He'll also tease you a little extra. Nothing mean, but playful. Like hiding things only for him to "find" them in plain sight when he looks after you swear it isn't there. Poking you in that ticklish spot he discovered just so he can touch you.

He has his "Oh shit" moment after you squeeze past him one day in the kitchen or the library & your body slides against his. The smell of your skin, the swell of your ass against his groin, the arch in your low back. It gets him thinking of all the ways he could get you to arch your back even more & he has to excuse himself.

He will also get suspicious of any guy that smiles at you, even if they are friends. He's definitely a protective guy anyway, but he'll be extra worried about you getting hurt or taken advantage off.

If it's one of the other Avengers you better believe he won't be happy. He'll constantly invite himself on your assigned missions just to make sure none of that "oops there's only one bed" thing happens.

Though he will fantasize about the 2 of you ending up in that exact situation, or some other compromising position.

If you aren't an Avenger or a sorcerer he will think about swooping in & saving you from something. Literally sweeping you off your feet only for you to suddenly see him in a different light. It's really cheesy but he evens hopes you'll call him "my hero" if that happens.

Wong will of course tease him about this constantly & try to drop little hints to you so you'll make the first move since Strange won't. Like randomly deciding to sing "Kiss The Girl" from The Little Mermaid when you are all out at karaoke.

If a guy flirts with you when you are out as a group or at a party he will siddle up & make his presence known. Putting his hand on your back or calling you sweetheart to scare the other guy off.

He'll try to play it off as "it looked like he was making you uncomfortable" or "I saw him/overheard him do something sketchy" or something like that.

After he does this several times you drag him outside & end up in a screaming match, only for him to end up blurting out his feelings. That he doesn't want anyone else to have you because he wants you.

You still have to be the one to make the first move physically, though he does hope you'll just slam him against the nearest wall & make out with him. It's what he want's to do to you anyway.

He's gonna have a hard time keeping his hands off of you. He doesn't like PDAs, but he will make plenty of excuses to get you alone or make you play hooky to stay in bed with him.

--------------------------------

Back to my masterlist

Let me know if you want to be tagged in stories for everything or for a specific charector. It's currently a lot of Strange & Bucky ❤

Stephen Strange Taglist: @starkiller-queen @glitterylokislut @verycollectivecreator @chatampr @maskmare931 @lovecleastrange @wheredafandomat @mkixx @katefullerrr @littlepinknightmare @foofarny @stygianoir @moonroyalt @saturnsbabe69 @blaxdet @blackrose-92 @ironstrange1991 @rindulacre @nancy-thompsons @wolfatheartandsoul @dangerouslittlefairy @n0obmaster-69 @oliveoilthoughts @onebatch--twobatch @yourmajesty13 @blondekel77 @lil-sweater-slut @gwephen @sinceimetyou @possessedjoker @coeurgrenaty @cc13723things @just--a-magpie @supervengerslock @strangelockd @dont-feel-so-good-peter @kingsmanperfecthartwin @ghost-lantern @thefalconandthewinterwidowshield @itssmaugtheterrible @katherinemaximoff @veryfancydoilies @cute-angi @mochacake2016 @prix19 @alexfanficnook @anotheroddfish @mando-is-the-way @xourownsidee @baes-x @dreamingsmile @negar77rd @imaginesfreetotake @ppatricia34me @rougepetale @evelynrosestuff

[eveenstar]

MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS SPOILERS, PROCEED WITH CAUTION!

𝔒𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲, 𝔪𝔢, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔲𝔰 || 𝔖𝔦𝔫𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔖𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢 𝔵 𝔣𝔢𝔪!𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯||

𝑃𝑅𝑂𝐿𝑂𝐺𝑈𝐸: 𝐿𝐴𝐶𝑅𝐼𝑀𝑂𝑆𝐴

𝔗𝔞𝔤𝔰/𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: Character death, GRAPHIC depictions of death by blood loss, canon-divergent. Reader discretion is advised.

𝔗𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱: (Comment/Reblog/Use my inbox if you wish to be tagged!) @jimin-sii @ghost-lantern @dopeqff @dragonqueen89 @cerene-ciderr

ɑ/ɳ: Phew, am I proud of this. It's been a hot minute since I wrote something this heavy.

Who the hell is Thanos? The thought lingered in her mind as (Y/N) fought the so-called "children of Thanos", who speaking of which, had an enormous ego.

"Tony!" Goddamn it!

With Iron-Man getting hurled against a building, the young woman was left to defend her position by herself, too stubborn to ask Wong or Stephen for help.

Well, Wong always warned her that her stubbornness would end up being her demise.

The protégé looked up at the alien and then back down, watching the spear who had trespassed her stomach being retracted back to it's owner's hand just as fast as it had wounded her. She hummed in discomfort, retracting her magic and looking back to where the other two sorcerers were.

"Strange?" Using the last bit of strength to call for help, the sorceress collapsed on the ground.

"(Y/N)!"

Burning. Sharp. Aching. It was all that her brain would come up with as it struggled to process what had just occurred to her body, and how it happened - it was so fast, so fast.

"(Y/N) hey, look at me, it's gonna be alright." Strange called out, holding her in his arms as he tried to ease the blood loss. "Hey, (Y/N), look at me, don't give up on me now,"

The young sorceress chocked, her hand moving to caress the doctor's cheek. She tried to speak admist the blood on her throat, but failed to do so, she opted to gaze into Strange's eyes, as if trying to comfort him about the impending doom.

Stephen's eyes were so extravagant, as blue as the ocean. Sometimes (Y/N) thought they had waves inside, calm and peaceful waves of water, like the tropical islands - but those waves were now clashing against each other in a violent storm who threatened the marine blue of his eyes.

"It's okay, you're okay, (Y/N)," They were admist a battlefield, and the protective barrier Wong had put up while calling out for Stephen was background noise. He refused to take his eyes off of her for a second. "No, (Y/N), hold on for me," How did he let this happen? What happened? "(Y/N)." Stephen called out again, furrowing at her lack of expression - her eyes were out of focus now, gazing ahead. "(Y/N)?"

The small spark of light faded from her - now dull - eyes, as her chest lowered with one last heavy sigh. Strange waited for a second, thinking she was...she was... before panicked kicked in. The ignorance of realization made him lightly slap her cheek a couple of times, getting angrier and angrier as time passed.

"Stop joking with me." No one could ever fake losing the colour of their irises. "A sorceress does not-" Strange stopped himself and a broken sigh escaped his lips. The palm of his hand met her cheek, so cold to the touch, and a single tear fell between the cracks of his fingers.

A sob escaped the once composed man as he held the body of his protégé in his arms, yielding her name over and over again like a chant, he rocked back and forth - not to comfort her, you can't comfort a corpse, but to convince himself that she was just...unconscious.

The Supreme Sorcerer didn't even realize the battle was over, nor did he realize that Tony, Wong and Bruce stood a few feet away from him - all too shocked for the loss to say or do anything, at all.

But somewhere out there, the young protégé opened her eyes with a soft sight of relief, and was met with the sorcerer's worried gaze.

"Stephen?"

The man smiled, "I'm here."

"I'm here." She returned the smile despite the pain.

[blushing-starker]

You've already made so many boards for me (or tagged me in ones I didn't explicitly ask for but then I realised I needed them.) But here're some - disconnected - thoughts/prompts/ideas to take or leave: Mafia Boss Peter; Winterironspider; canon-compliant Peter missing Tony after Endgame; Spiderstrange trying to keep their relationship a secret from Tony; and honestly sometimes I'm just down for a classic, any Spideychelle in your brilliant head?

Look at you, hitting me with drama, whump, romance and the funnies! Listen, I will continue making moodboards for you, Katie and one very non trashy @trashystarker . Apart from Raf, Laney, Bee and Mabel, you guys are the ones that interact the most no matter what the hell I post. (I appreciate all of you of course, but some people are there even when i hastily throw together some pics and textures into a melting pot.)

No, but truly, thanks dear. Mafia Peter is so good! But how do I make it angsty? Well, how about mafia boss Peter missing Tony after endgame and counting on Bucky, one half of his heart, to pull him through? They suffer as lovers and then Stephen comes along, tentatively because Tony had only sacrificed himself, had only worked out this plan after the doctor told him it was the singular strategy capable of pulling them through this. The spider and soldier don't blame him, can't even consider the possibility since its not his fault. Tony wouldn't have done what he did if the overall threat hadn't existed. His death lies with Thanos, not Stephen.

(Cue them falling in love, but anywayyyyyy)

Lets get to some happy aspects! Tony survives. So does Peter. Thanks to Strange. If the man's cloak hadn't yanked him away from Thanos' grip, Mr Stark would have mourned for him all over again. And yeah, technically the cape can't be controlled but uh, he needs an excuse to follow the sorcerer around for a few weeks, ok?

It's not Peter's fault the guy is witty and clever and cunning and a brilliant strategist and oh my god he can help him figure out why his wrists hurt and tell whether it's a fever or a cold and he's flying! Without the webs thanks to the cape! Look, Mr Strange! And can the universe stop dumping him into awkward situations with men so handsome? He has a hard time catching the drool from his mouth. Their intelligence is already a turn on, he can't handle all of this.

Strange finds it endearing, lips inching upwards into something resembling a smile. And the second he does that, the cape whirls around, nearly drops Peter into an experiment and begins clapping excitedly like Stark's daughter when he showed her some magic tricks. He needs to get rid of that cape.

(Mr Strange? Are you alright, you look a bit pale? Or it could be the light? Oh hey! Now you're red! That's good, right? Maybe you touched something weird. I don't see anything on your face, but it's the only area that could be affected since you wore the gloves for the experiment. Hold on, let me take a closer look. It's really dim in this closet. Why did the cape bring us here? Is it taking us to the antidote? Mr Strange, you're getting really red now.

Peter, I highly doubt you need to be this close, I'm fine. I'll be fine once we get out of this infernal-

Was that the door closing? On a room labelled, magic properties weakened inside?

... Yes, that was the door.

Guess we're gonna have to be close now, huh?

Remind me to A) never help Stark with a project again, no matter whether the world hangs in the balance and to B) rip that cloak apart.

You can't do that! Doctor Weird is nice!

I'm sorry, Doctor what?)

Spideychelle, spideychelle.

She calls him her itsy bitsy spider constantly. Like, that's his contact name.

Ned is grumpy because I was here first. But then he sees how cute they are and admits that fine. She can have Wednesday and Thursday. Mr Stark has Saturdays and Tuesdays. He has Monday and Friday. Peter has Sunday off. Sometimes.

Peter crafts gifts using his webs, intricate flowers and careful handwriting on her window so the light hits just right and she can read the messages on the floor thanks to the shadows. If her favorite jacket, the one in ffh, continues ripping on the side, a web immediately flies to hold it together. It's the new rage in the school.

For the first few weeks, it's a bit hesitant. And then she says fuck it, gently pushes him to the floor, climbs on top and naps away. May finds them snoring, legs entangled and limbs askew. Peter holds her as gently as possible like that, careful with the superstrength and she makes sure to never put too much pressure on his chest so it doesn't remind him of the vulture or the weight of a building caving in his ribcage.

They go to Halloween as a trio. Ned may be jealous every once in a while but he's a good bro so instead of going as a pair with Peter, he finds costumes that go well with one more person.

They kiss and it's not electric. Not fireworks. It's the fizzle stars they light up in front of Mj's house, warmth shared in a puppy pile, soft sweaters and even softer curls. It's nice, makes him content and never overwhelmed. It's perfect, really. Romance doesn't have to be an uncontrollable inferno. It can be this too, a slow but steady fire keeping him alive 365 days a year.

[faithinhome]

Neighbor Next Door- Stephen Strange x Female OC

18+ | Minors 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 2: Trashy

it was a party for a group of tech specialists, scientists and doctors. and since wanda was the only friend in the group that actually had a career (she worked in tech), she'd been invited and decided to take sam and anna along.

"this is so cool" anna squealed as she blended her blush into her cheeks. "i've never been to such a professional party before. i hope i don't screw it up"

"don't worry about it" wanda chuckled. "everyone knows each other. and they're gonna get pretty shit faced too. it's a once in a year party and no one expects you to be professional. as long as you don't take your pants off"

"is that something that's happened before?" sam asked with a raised brow as he walked into anna’s room.

"oh yeah" wanda laughed. "i'll tell you all about it in the cab."

anna was dressed in a strawberry coloured dress that hugged her waist. it had a deep neckline, exposing her cleavage and it went down to about 2 inches above her knees.

wanda wore a beautiful silk dress that draped below her knees and sam wore a caramel suit, paired with a white shirt and a black tie. anna had left her hair loose, as she did most of the time.

once at the party, wanda had left them briefly to interact with some colleagues.

"this is a lot better than the after parties i get invited to after your band performs" anna teased sam.

sam rolled his eyes and shook his head. "liar. all the groupies literally end up with you the entire night. and you love it"

anna laughed and nodded. "true. they're hot. i love it when hot women pay me attention. what's there not to love?"

sams eyes flickered over to the crowd and he spotted a certain man in a black suit who'd stepped in alone, dressed in a black suit with grey steaks in his hair. "well, i guess you got something of an equivalent of groupies right here at this party"

anna followed sam's gaze, her heart leaping as she saw stephen strange. "oh, my god!"

"remember how wanda said everyone's gonna get shit faced?" she suggested with a wide smile. "oh man, i'd love to see stephen strange get shit faced"

sam chuckled and shrugged. "just don't go bothering him. remember-"

"he's married" anna finished the sentence for him. “i know, sammy. i know"

"just making sure you're reminded once in a while" he winked.

anna had remembered, she truly had. but once sam had left to go to the bathroom because the vodka made him want to shit for some reason and wanda needed to go meet some more colleagues, she made her way to where stephen was standing alone by the bar.

maybe sam should have known better to leave a drunk (and horny) anna alone. she'd just blame him later. because right now, she just yearned to have a conversation with the pretty neighbour that intrigued her everyday since he’d moved in next to her.

"hi, doc!" anna cheered as she took a seat on a stool next to him, remembering beck to when she saw him the last time... and he was shirtless.

that hunk of a body was still under that shirt. and that was the only thing she could think about right now.

"oh hey, neighbor" strange nodded, before thanking the bartender for his drink.

"you do know my name right?" anna chuckled and strange immediately knew she was tipsy.

"uh" strange was stumped for words and her eyes widened.

"anna” she said, not feeling as cheerful anymore. he’s a doctor so he probably had perfect memory. but he didn't even remember her name.

"right, anna. i'm sorry" he said. "i'm afraid we never really were properly introduced"

she nodded thoughtfully. that was true. she'd never even told the man her name. so there was nothing to remember, right?

strange liked the way her name slipped off his tongue and she looked absolutely stunning. it was a little hard to look away.

"so, how are you liking the party so far?" anna asked, scanning the hall.

"it's alright" strange shrugged. "had to come in to keep up appearances."

anna nodded, her face lighting up. "look, they got ice cream! do you wanna go get some?"

strange hesitated for a few moments but shrugged. "i mean, why not?"

stephen strange didn't really have a lot of friends. he didn't get along with the people he worked with, or people that were a part of his social circle through his profession. and since christine was sick and had to stay home, he might as well try to have a bit of a good time with the one person he knew here.

he didn't mind being around anna because she didn't have an air of superiority around her, like everyone else he knew did. himself included. you can't put two arrogant people together and expect them to get along.

anna ordered a vanilla ice cream while he got a scoop of the butterscotch.

"i like vanilla" she piped up. "just vanilla alone. i know people think it's bland. but like, it's perfect"

stepgen smiled softly as he looked over at her. "i get it. thanks for the cupcakes, by the way. they were great"

"wanna know a secret? i didn't even make them. my bestfriend did"

"oh?" strange raised a brow.

"yeah, just wanted to impress my neighbours"

"why so?" strange asked with a raised brow, a soft smile growing on his face.

anna caught a whiff of strange's scent and she bit on her lip, looking up at him.

him.

he was the reason.

his eyes, his nose, his high cheekbones and his lips. yeah, anna really shouldn't be doing this while she was drunk.

"just wanted to be friendly" she shrugged as she ate at her ice cream.

she wondered if strange felt the way she did, as well. even just a little bit?

he seemed pretty normal, he was talking to her like he would to a normal person he didn't find attractive.

but then again, so was she. or could strange tell? was there any tension?

she had no idea.

all she knew was the more she paid attention to his arms and the way they flexed, she felt heat flush down there and her thoughts were turning dirty.

god, why did men have such attractive arms?

and it almost ached to know she couldn't just throw herself at him.

"so, what do you do, anna?” strange asked. "anything you're passionate about?"

you.

i’m passionate about you.

"um yeah it's lame" she started with a shrug. "believe it or not, i'm actually a ghostwriter"

"oh?" strange was definitely interested. "interesting. how did you get about doing that?"

"started doing a bit of it when i was in school" anna shrugged. "just to make some money and well, i always loved music. and writing music. actually kinda like it"

strange liked credit. he wondered why people ever chose to do something like that. but he didn't ask her that.

"and then kind of started getting more gigs" she said. "and now there's a couple artists i work for. still not exactly the most secure job. but i enjoy it. pays well too"

"that's quite interesting" strange nodded. "didn't know you had a talent for music. i'm not exactly the most musically inclined person but i love music. so important what artists do"

a wide smile formed on anna’s face as she looked up at strange with an increased admiration. "you know, doctors or like other scientifically inclined people never really say that. i mostly get looked down upon. especially since i ghostwrite."

strange smiled at her words and nodded. it did feel good to be humble sometimes. especially seeing how happy that comment seemed to have made her. and he just felt naturally inclined to be.. good to her.

but then again, that's how infatuation worked

humans were selfish and convenient that way.

"i'm sorry you've had that experience"

“thank you.” anna smiled.

so not was he extremely hot, he was also nice to her. and sam expected her to not want to fuck him.

sam finally came out of the bathroom and spotted strange and anna together, shaking his head, hoping she wasn't doing anything stupid or out of line.

"is there anything else you... are passionate about?" anna spoke in a low seductive voice. the man treating her so well was turning her on even more and she couldn't control the way she felt herself shift. she brought the spoon up to her mouth and ice cream dropped right on her chest, and on her exposed cleavage.

strange watched as anna gasped and looked down, biting her lip. and for some reason, he couldn't look away as she used her finger to scoop it up before sucking on her finger.

she glanced momentarily at strange, blinking through her lashes.

time seemed to work slowly for both of them, especially anna. she was nothing but a bundle of hormones right now.

strange felt his mouth go dry as he watched her, letting out a soft breath.

"i uh," he looked away, realizing he'd been staring too much. "i like to read."

this was sam's cue. he popped up, interlacing his arm with anna’s. "hi guys!"

strange looked over at him, momentarily glancing at their interlaced arms.

"i'm so sorry to break up the conversation" he said with a smile. "but uh, someone's in the bathroom throwing up." he looked up at strange. "don't wanna name names. kind of our friend. and uh, we should probably go help them out."

anna raised her brows. "oh, okay?"

he took the ice cream and threw it in the trash before dragging her away and waving at strange.

"dude, what the fuck?"

"what the hell do you think you were doing?" sam hissed. "you've crossed the line, anna. this is fucking pathetic and you need to stop."

anna was taken aback by sam's tone. she looked up at him in frustration and shook her head. "what the hell are you so mad about?"

"you're being a fucking awful person right now."

anna shook her head, feeling anger bubble up. he was probably right but she felt so embarassed, she couldn't think of anything else but acting in a defensive manner.

"the fuck?" she shook her head and pulled away. "just, fuck off."

she left and glanced over at strange, who was looking at her in a confused manner. she felt so embarassed, she felt the need to leave. she paced toward the door, letting out a soft huff.

wanda grabbed her, making her jump. "where do you think you're going?"

"home" anna spoke through gritted teeth. "sam's being an ass."

"yeah but you're drunk" she said, her eyes glassy. she was clearly also a little drunk.

also she had witnessed the situation that sam had dragged anna away from. and honestly, she was a little turned on. she had no idea what it was.

maybe it was the alocohol. but right now, if stephen didn't fall for that, she definitely was inclined to take anna right now.

anna and wanda wound up on the bathroom floor, and anna had spilled the beans.

anna sighed. "well, so are you. so now what?"

"talk to me" wanda smiled. "tell me what's going on with you and the doc. no judgement, promise."

" i don't get it" wanda started. "so you don't want to go out with him but you want his attention. you don't want to come in between him and christine but you want him to pay attention to you, in more... intimate ways?"

anna sighed and gazed up at the ceiling. "okay, i can see now why sam's so annoyed with me"

wanda chuckled softly and shook her head. "so are you looking for advice or just some emotional one on one?"

"i don't know" anna sighed and gazed over at wanda, watching as a strand of hair fell from behind her ear. she looked gorgeous under the bathroom light, her skin was glowing. "i guess i just don't wanna think about it right now. what about you? anyone hit on you?"

wanda chuckled and gazed over at her best friend,her heart picking up slightly. "no. i don't think they can. not here."

"well it must have been pretty hard for them to hold back" anna chuckled softly, studying over wanda's features. "i mean you look stunning today. like a fucking goddess"

wanda laughed, heat rushing to her cheeks. "no, i think that's you. i saw your ice cream incident back with the doc there. pretty sexy".

"he didn't seem to think so. i mean, he is married and loyal so."

"well, i do" wanda spoke softly, gazing intently at her, a small smile on her face. "and bonus, i'm not married."

anna could only blush and laugh in response. she didn’t know what to say. if her and stephen didn’t have any tension, they sure did, right this very moment.

"i... have an idea for what might make you feel better" wanda spoke softly, shifting closely.

anna could definitely feel the tension. and she was totally intoxicated by it.

"yeah?" she barely whispered in response.

wanda hummed in response as she leaned in, lifting anna’s chin and gazing into her eyes.

anna looked up at wanda, feeling her stomach coil as she gazed into wanda's eyes. she leaned in closer, as if giving permission and wanda went in, locking anna's lips with her.

soon the two were stumbling into a stall, anna locking the door.

anna threw her head back and moaned softly as wanda nibbled at the soft skin of her neck, dress pooling by her ankles and bra on the floor, her fingers coiled in wanda's soft red hair. "gosh, wanda."

"are you sure?" wanda asked as she now had her bestfriend pressed against the door. anna faced the door, her cheek pressed against it as she stood naked in front of wanda, who had her dress on. but anna didn't care. she liked being on display for someone like that, it was thrilling.

"fuck yeah" anna huffed softly, whining as wanda pushed a finger inside of her.

anna spread her legs further. soon, the feeling of wanda's fingers inside of her, the thumb circling her clit and her other hand pawing at her breast caused a hot flush through her lower abdomen and she was coming hard and fast, trying her hardest to not be super loud. "fuck, wanda."

wanda straddled anna, now naked as well. anna took longer, kissing along wanda's skin, behind her ear, down her neck. she ran her thumb over wanda's nipple, watching as wanda bit her lip, whimpering softly and eyes fluttering shut.

a while passed and wanda was coming, her legs shaking as her back arched into anna's fingers. the two sat there, panting softly before they got dressed and decided to leave the bathroom one at a time.

wanda walked out first and anna followed. she scanned the hall and spotted stephen, who had also spotted her. he seemed intrigued and confused at her state. it seemed as if that he could figure out what had happened.

it’s as if he knew she was fucking her long term best friend in the bathroom literally an hour after she'd flirted with him, a married man.

and anna felt immensely embarassed at how trashy she was coming across. this definitely called for more alcohol.

***

a/n: what. the. fuck. bet you did not see that coming. i kept the smut short because as hot as they were, this fic is NOT about them. sorry, wanda. but it was fun to bring in a little twist. thank you so much to everyone who’s still reading and engaging w this fic !! i’m going to try and start uploading once a week! and thank you sm to everyone who asked to be on the reading taglist. it’s so exciting to see everyone’s response to something i’m having such a fun time writing! let me know what you thought about the chapter. does anna need to pump the brakes or do you give her a pass because i mean, it’s THE stephen strange we’re talking about?

also i’m SO sorry if their outfits are horrible lmao i’m NOT good with styling. but in my head, sam looks AMAZING in that caramel suit.

see you angels next week! stay blessed 🫶🏼

link to the fic index : Neighbor Next Door

TAGLIST

@kentucky-criedfricken @sherlux @evelynrosestuff @thewinterpoet2 @lokislov3 @loolani @0p444ls

[faithinhome]

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

"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