I Need a Doctor (Strange x Reader)
I Need a Doctor (Rated T)
Request?: YES (for Anon: comfort fic)
Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader (Gender Neutral)
Word Count: 2.1k+
Warnings: A bit of angst/self-deprecation, but otherwise fluff and Stephen being just the sweetheart we know he is.
Summary: One night, you wake up feeling incredibly sick. When your boyfriend (who happens to be the Sorcerer Supreme and world's ex-top neurosurgeon), comes to your aid, new questions surface in your mind. Just how will it change your relationship with the good doctor?
!! NO MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS SPOILERS !!
You shook your head violently, hands twitching as they gripped onto the satin sheets between your fingers. This was the second time you had threatened to pull them up and over your face in an attempt to protect yourself. “No!” you exclaimed.
“Take it!” the voice of Doctor Stephen Strange said from above you. It was obvious he was growing impatient. Frankly, you didn’t care. This was a matter of life and death.
“No!” you drawled out again as you wrapped the sheet around your face.
“For God’s sake,” Stephen was exasperated now. “Just take the damn pill!”
“That thing is huge, Stephen. It’s the size of an avocado pit.”
The Sorcerer Supreme heaved another sigh. You couldn’t see his face from under your cover. Maybe that was for the best. Although, you could already envision the look of disdain across his facial features. “For the last time. It will not hurt you.”
You pulled the covers off your face and glared at him. “That’s easy for you to say when you don’t have to worry about choking and dying!” An accusatory index finger was pointed in his direction. You were on the verge of another coughing fit, but because you just had to be stubborn, your voice was now coming out as scratchy as a record. “You said it was small!!”
“It is small!”
“Like hell it is!” you retorted. “If that’s small, then the moon is a potato chip! I can’t swallow that pill. If I even attempt to, I will gag, choke on my own vomit, and die.”
Stephen scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I think you’re being a bit dramatic, dear.” When you merely glared at him, Stephen gave a small smile in return. “Alright, fine. On the off chance you do choke, I know CPR.”
You allowed yourself a moment to contemplate his offer. Even though you would be unable to breathe, the idea of your boyfriend’s lips on yours sent a tingle down your spine. It always felt like the first time with him, mainly because this whole relationship thing was new in the first place. You had originally met Stephen at the New York Public Library, where he had chosen to return all thirty-seven of his library books....at once. Looking back, you wished you could have come up with something quirkier to say to him – something you could both find funny, instead of your sarcastic self bleeding onto the surface.
“Introverted bookworm,” you had said as you scanned the final item, a copy of Moby Dick.
“Pardon?” Stephen glanced up at you with a quizzically raised eyebrow.
“Introverted bookworm. They dedicate all their time to reading and nothing else.” You shrugged. “Not big on parties, large crowds…having lots of friends…”
The sorcerer before you lifted his arms shakily to his chest and crossed them in a silent challenge. “Oh, really? You think I’m one of these bookworms?” A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “And what makes you deduce that, Sherlock?”
You first pointed to the pile of books that you had finally finished scanning in, then to the new stacks of material he planned to check out that afternoon. “Clearly someone who starts his week with this much literature isn't in the habit of spending time with others.”
“Oh, this? No, this is just some light reading,” a sheepish grin stretched across Stephen’s face.
“Then I’d certainly hate to be on staff when you decide to actually go ham.”
It had taken some time, but the two of you ultimately forged a bond. You connected over your mutual love for books and literature. That connection grew stronger as you began to learn more about each other. Though you weren’t sure why at first, Stephen told you about Christine. He told you how they met, worked together after college, and how they had needed to part ways… it wasn’t until he invited you for coffee that you finally put the pieces together. He told you of his past to show you his future, or at least what hoped his future would look like, with you.
Now here he was, standing in your bedroom with a cup of orange juice in his right hand and a large red pill in the other. When you had woken up feeling like Hell burned over, you didn’t think twice before calling your boyfriend. He may not have been a primary care doctor, but Stephen still had the experience working with a variety of patients over the years. He knew which drugs would be best to help whatever ails you. Within seconds, a portal opened in your living room to reveal just the man you wanted to see.
You instantly regretted the call, though, when you witnessed Stephen step through the portal. He was in his pyjamas. A soft heather grey t-shirt had been tossed on over his red and black plaid pants. His hair was also a tousled mess with stray black strands sticking in his eyes.
“You didn’t need to come,” you had argued. “I could handle it myself-”
“You’re sick,” the groggy voice of your boyfriend caused you to shiver. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t come to help you?”
While you were beyond grateful to have him in your life, you didn’t want to have to bother him with something as trivial as this. You wanted to show him that you could be strong. The last thing you wanted was to portray this weak significant other who always needed their boyfriend to constantly save the day.
Every day while Stephen fought against the dark forces of the Mystic Arts, you sat behind a desk mindlessly documenting damage from the latest whack-job that attacked New York. Nothing you did was exciting or remarkable. Even before he had become the Sorcerer Supreme, Stephen still saved lives through his work as a neurosurgeon. Granted, it never resonated with him as it did now, but it demonstrated his courage and overall strength.
You never had that chance. Instead of going out into the fight, you chose to run away from it and let those much more powerful save the day. It made you feel weak. You could be better – you could always be better. Stephen deserved better. In fact, he deserved the world. That’s why you never could understand why he chose to be with you instead of trying to get back together with her. Doctor Christine Palmer always seemed to understand Stephen and his personality. From what he told you, she was fearless and never let anything get in the way of helping her patients. She was a wonder woman – and everything you could never measure up to.
“So are we just going to stare off into the distance or are we going to take this pill?” Stephen’s voice snapped you out of whatever dazed state you were in. “I wasn’t joking about that CPR offer.”
You risked a glance up at him. He was smiling now, his multi-coloured eyes flickering between sincerity and genuine concern. “Stephen, I’m not going to get you sick.”
A sigh escaped his lips. “Do you ever stop worrying?” You flinched, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the Sorcerer Supreme. “Touchy subject, alright. . .” He crossed his arms. “Do you want to tell me what’s really going on here?”
There was a period of silence as you thought about sharing the truth with your boyfriend. You knew you needed to tell him at some point. Relationships were built on trust and honesty. If you felt this relationship wasn’t established for the right reasons, and you couldn’t even trust him to know that fear, maybe you weren’t meant to last. “I don’t know why you’re here,” you said at last.
“What do you mean you don’t know why I’m here?” Stephen gave a chuckle. “You called me.”
“That’s not what I mean, Stephen. I mean I don’t get why you’re here…in a relationship…with me.”
The sorcerer in front of you placed the items he was holding in his hand down on the nightstand. With some effort, he crouched next to your stretched form. A shaky hand trailed from the top of your hair to the swell of your chin. “Darling,” Stephen said softly, “it’s because I love you.”
“But I’m not perfect,” you hated how vulnerable you sounded. The congestion mixed with the tears that were threatening to spill out of your eyes made you sound like a five-year-old. You felt like a five-year-old with the fit you were pitching over the entire situation. “I’m not strong enough. Hell, I can’t even handle a stinking cold! I’m not a superhero. I don’t save lives as a doctor. I’m not even your type.”
“And who decides who my type is?” The amusement had left Stephen’s face completely by this point. When you started your breakdown, he realised just how much you believed what you were saying. It hurt him to see you like this -- so down on yourself that you didn’t even see what he could. You couldn’t see the strong independent person he fell in love with, who would do anything to get a story to see the light of day.
“Your type is someone strong, who can save the world,” you stared into his eyes. “You deserve someone who gets you completely, who is just like you. Not someone who’s a wimp and runs from danger. Someone like Christine. Why don’t you just leave?”
You could almost see the heart shatter behind Stephen’s green-blue eyes. He couldn’t believe you were doing this to him, much less to yourself. “Who I need,” he said before he brushed his lips against your forehead, “is someone who makes me smile; who makes me feel special. Someone who is willing to fight their editor with a stapler gun- and nearly be fired for it- in order for a story about a children’s shoe store shutting down to be sent to print-”
“Gary’s Shoes has been a staple in Greenwich since I was a kid! To have it torn down after fifty years would be ridiculous. Joe could just go screw himself if he thought I was just going to let that story slide into the recycle bin.”
A chuckle escaped Stephen’s lips. “My little spitfire,” he mumbled. “The point is…” He reached over to grab the cup of orange juice and sat next to you. “There is only one person out there for me and that's you. You’re my type. You're just the person I want. I don’t want Christine. I want you and only you.”
You shifted on the mattress to sit back up, sighing softly. “But you don’t need to keep taking care of me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart.” Stephen brushed back a stray strand of hair from your eyes. “I don’t need to take care of you. I get to help you and I want to.”
“But you could get sick…” you fought back weakly.
“Well, then you’ll just need to take care of me,” Stephen replied as he swung his legs to lay down next to you, cup still in hand. “I think you would make an excellent nurse. Now, can you please take the pill so we can move onto the next part of your treatment?”
You frowned. “What treatment?”
“A nice long nap. With cuddles. Doctor’s orders.” A smug smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
Without another hesitation, you took the cup and swallowed the evil monster gargantuan pill (although it did take some effort). As soon as you cleared the remaining liquid, you launched yourself against the soft material of Stephen’s t-shirt with a happy sigh. You gave a small hum as his hands made their way up the back of your shirt, providing you with a skin-on-skin contact you hadn’t felt in a long time.
“I love you,” you whispered as your eyelids began to flutter.
“I love you,” the sound of Stephen’s low voice vibrated within his chest, causing you to smile while you drifted off to sleep.
Little did you know that as you made your way into dreamland, Stephen was watching over you with a small smile of his own. That evening, he made a vow to himself that someday very soon he would show you how much you meant to him. He would be there for every sick day, every great day, every bad day. Each night, you would go to bed and he’d be there. There would be no doubt of the love you shared with each other. Christine would be but a distant memory to you both because Stephen had finally found you.
He chose you.
And he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life loving you with all his heart.
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Author's Note: Ugh my heart hurt in the best way writing that ending. Sorry Anon if that didn't meet what you were requesting!! I'm currently sick with another cold, so my inspiration wasn't that unique this time. But let's keep the domestic!Stephen Strange going, yeah? :)
To provide a mini-update, uni has just started up for me recently, so I'm not sure how my schedule is going to hold up. I hope to have some time to write and post like usual, but I do plan on scheduling some posts in advance so there is content for you all! As usual, don't forget to leave a like, a comment, and even a reblog because it really helps me out here! And if you want to request a fic, make sure to check out my Request Guidelines before sending a request through an ask. I may be a bit selfish, but please give me some Variant!Stephen requests. I need an excuse to write some after watching MoM!
Until next time, loves (I feel like I need a name for my readers...help me pick one!)!
SS Taglist: @ohchoices
