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annesthaeticc · 2 years

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Sweet November | Dr Strange x Fem!Reader

Sweet November : Chapter Three-November 4

| Series Summary: "One month." Stephen said, his gaze intense. He raised his hand, offered it for you to shake. "One month." you agreed and shook his hand. The sign of a closed deal. Then he smiled at you, and from that instant, you realized, you just broke rule number one; no falling in love.

| Chapter Warning: first 'date' yay! just some banter and some fluff

| Word Count: 2685 words

| A/N: aaaand this is where i leave you for a while. hope you like this chapter, i had fun writing it! comments, hearts, and REBLOGS are greatly appreciated. ily all 💘

Three days later you found yourself standing in front of your floor length mirror. Your hands absently smoothing out your dress, touching the pristine material probably for the hundredth time. Sighing has become your number one reaction and a usual habit for you these days. You regarded your vision once more and thought how different you looked.

Long gone were the jeans and lace up boots, you were wearing a blue dress that accentuated your waist, and baby blue high heels that made your legs look long. Carefully, you took a step forward, still trying to break the heels in.

Stephen’s stylist friend, Kali, very French and gay, was too happy to assist you. You remember entering the boutique, nervous, after pacing outside the shop for ten minutes. “Ah yes! Stephen finally brought a girl for me to style!” Kali exclaimed when you introduced yourself as Stephen’s ‘girlfriend’. You spent an afternoon there, trying out dresses and shoes, and getting overwhelmed at how everything was so pretty, expensive, and sparkly. Your once messy cabinet was now organized, and garment bags crowded the small space.

When the clock struck seven thirty, you slipped on your coat, grabbed your clutch and keys. Locked the door, and treaded carefully down the hall to the elevators. Before the elevator doors could close, your neighbor Margo, an elderly woman, called out for you to hold the door open.

“Oh look at you! You look really pretty!” she gushed as you pressed the close button.

“Thank you,” you blushed. You almost never dressed up, hence you found yourself in a new territory. You honestly do not know if you wore the dress right, or did your makeup pretty well. You could only hope your ‘boyfriend’ thinks you look quite acceptable for the event.

“Who’s the lucky guy?” she pressed. You shyly smiled and said, “He’s a doctor.”

She continued to quiz you until the elevator halted at the ground floor, you helped her out and she wished you a good night. You stepped out of your apartment building, expecting Stephen would be out waiting. You imagined his face in a scowl, disappointed at you for being late on your very first night on the job, but alas, you found no sign of him.

Eventually, he arrived. But when he did, you were sitting on the steps of your apartment building, on the verge of falling asleep. The night hasn’t even started and your eyes are already drooping. Gingerly, you stood up, and he quickly walked towards you to help you up. You brushed off the dust from your dress and gave him a smile.

“Sleeping on the job?” he teased you, and you playfully punched his arm. “I wouldn’t be if you weren’t so late,” you retorted. He opened the passenger door for you and you climbed in, once again feeling the leather beneath your skin.

The low hum of the engine vibrated beneath you and that made you relax further into the seat. “This is such a nice car,” you absentmindedly said, running your nails against the upholstery. “Jaguar XE.” he replied and shot you a quick smile.

“So, this party…” you prompted and looked at him.

“Is pretty fancy. Just doctors dressed up and drinking expensive wine,”

“And what am I supposed to do while you guys drink fancy wine?”

“Your job is to keep the questions and the ladies, sometimes guys, at bay,” he smirked at you, and shifted gears.

“Guys?” you asked, eyes wide. But where’s the surprise? He chuckled at your reaction and shrugged.

“What if I failed to bat away the questions?” you asked, curious. “I really have no choice, Diana, I’m stuck with you.” he sighed dramatically and smiled at you.

“Let’s just try our best, don’t overdo it, just act like a normal couple, okay?” he said as he slowed down the car. You nodded and watched as the car pulled up in front of a hotel.

Stephen got out of the car and you did the same when the valet opened the door for you. He caught up next to you and offered his arm for you to hold on to. You snaked up your hand into the small space, gently gripping his arm.

“You ready to act like we’re in love, Di?” he asked you, a smirk starting to creep on his pretty lips. The way he called you by your nickname made you grin like an idiot.

“I really have no choice, Stephen.” you exhaled and looked up at him.

Any passerby would mistake you as a couple already, it was quite obvious by the way you two looked at each other.

Everything sparkled of silver and gold. The chandeliers. The champagne flutes. The trays. The plates. The silverware. When the two of you stepped into the room, your eyes quickly widened and took everything in. It was all so bright, so shiny.

And the words escaped your lips in a squeak, “Wow,” “Yeah,” you heard him say. Stephen spotted the first inquisitor and he figured, it’s going to be a long night ahead.

“Strange! Long time no see!” Stephen greeted his colleague with his usual smile, and shook his hand. “And who do we have here?”

“Dr. Collins, may I introduce you to my girlfriend, Diana Winston,” Stephen said and you smiled. You stuck out your hand to shake Dr. Collins' hand and you greeted him with a ‘hi’.

“‘Bout time you brought a girl with you, Strange!” Dr. Collins said and you chuckled, seeing Stephen’s grimace.

“He was waiting for me,” you boldly said, the words out of your lips before you could think about it.

“Bet the wait was very worth it, isn’t it Stephen?” he joked, lightly patting Stephen’s back. “It is,” he replied, his voice tight. You smiled on his behalf, hoping to sell the ‘we’re a couple’ look.

“Well, I’ll let you two lovebirds go, more people to meet and champers to drink. Nice to meet you Diana.” Dr. Collins said and you nodded, politely saying goodbye.

Stephen led you away, his hand lightly grasping yours. “God, I hate him,” he said under his breath and you laughed.

You were about to ask him why, but he stopped walking cause you were met with another curious doctor, ready to fire up the questions.

"I'm so glad you could come!" she said, Stephen quickly introduced you to Dr. Robbins.

"Hi, I'm Diana. Nice to meet you, Dr Robbins." you shook her hand and smiled. Your cheek muscles are already starting to hurt.

"Goodness! You're very pretty, lucky you, Stephen!" she said and you masked your wince with another smile.

Stephen, however, did not respond and you had to slightly jab him at the side to prompt him for an answer. He looked at you with an annoyed look and said, "Indeed I am."

"How did you two meet?" she asked, eyes shining with curious enthusiasm.

"Tinder—", "A mutual friend—" the two of you simultaneously said and you let out a nervous chuckle.

"We uh, we met through a mutual friend through Tinder," you said and Stephen cocked his head as if to say 'what?'

"How long have you been dating?" she asked. Oh she really is curious, you thought.

"A week—", "A month—" this time, you were the one who gave him a glare. Would anyone really believe that you two started dating just last week and now he's bringing you to public events?

"We've been going out for a month," Stephen said, flashing his signature charming smile.

Dr. Robbins once again gushed at how you two make a pretty couple and swiftly said “See you around,” because she spotted someone.

"A week? And I thought you are supposed to be the smart one in this relationship," you snickered.

"Technically, we are dating for at least a day or two, I just rounded it off. So yes, I am the smart one." he smirked at you and you rolled your eyes at him.

"That's not believable," you countered. "Fine," he said in defeat, you do have a point.

When you two arrived at the bar and had your drinks at hand, you started, "We need to get our stories straight,"

"Why are people so curious anyway? It's none of their business,"

"Apparently, it is because you finally 'brought a girl with you' to this stuff. The great Stephen Strange has finally brought a date," you mocked, deepening your voice.

"I really don't see the big deal. Why can't they just, I don't know, not ask and mind their own lives?"

"Oh, don't get so melodramatic! Wish you could say that to them though, I honestly don't like being asked about 'us',"

"But instead, I have to pretend I'm nice and I'm in love with my girlfriend. If I don't, I'll probably offend half of the party and that doesn't look good for my books. So, come on, what do you suggest?"

"Well, we could say we met through Tinder,"

"Absolutely not!" he said in horror and you laughed.

"What? Why? It's the truth, Stephen," you said through your giggles.

"We can't say that. They can't find out I have an account on that thing," he sternly said. He meant business.

"Okay fine, for the sake of your reputation we'll say we met through a mutual friend. Is that okay with you?" you asked and took a sip of your drink. He nodded in agreement.

A silence has passed between the two of you and for a moment you breathed out a sigh of relief. Bantering with Stephen does tend to get you on a high. But it was quickly broken when he groaned. “Oh god.”

“What? Why?”

“Quick! Put your hands on me.” he ordered through his teeth and you obliged, gently planting your hand on his forearm.

You looked up at him, puzzled at the suddenness of his command. His gaze trailed at the far side of the room, and you followed. A bottle bleached-blonde was waving at him, her breasts lightly bouncing everytime she waved her hand. You watched Stephen as he smiled, and gave her a short wave back. Your lips are struggling to hold in your laugh.

“Oh my god,” you giggled as he turned his head to look at you. He joined in, the rich tone of his baritone rumble ringing through your ears.

“That was Maddi, Dr. Conor’s assistant. She loves ambushing me at parties,” he explained.

“I thought this party was for doctors only?”

“Well, doctors can bring their dates, can they?” he smirked and you failed to mask your shock.

“Oh my god!” you gasped and it was his turn to laugh. “Chances are he’s fucking his own assistant. And cheating on his second wife,” he continued.

“You made that up,” you said and drew your hand away, creating a distance between you. He just winked at you and finished his drink.

The party started when the host tapped the mic and urged everyone to get comfortable. Stephen led you somewhere at the back, holding your hand the whole way through. The party went on, serving dinner and more drinks. It was going well as the two of you slowly moved through the floor after you had dinner. Stephen introduced you to new faces, names you will probably forget tomorrow.

You were talking to one of his colleagues, Dr. Nielsen and you thought he was a bit too flirty with you, even though it was quite obvious you were with Stephen. The doctor left the two of you alone sometime later, but you were surprised when Stephen suddenly pulled you close to him.

Too close.

One hand on his arm, one planted against his chest. You stilled, heart beating so fast. You will yourself to calm down, hoping, praying to God he doesn’t feel your racing heartbeat. You risked a glance up at him, given you were wearing heels, there was still a gap in your heights. He shyly smiled at you, apologizing through his clear blue eyes.

“Okay, she’s gone.” Stephen exhaled, and he slowly let you go. “Was that Maddi?” you asked as you stepped back, then he nodded.

“Oh, here comes another one,” he sighed and shook hands with the doctor.

You later learned that his name was Dr. Williams, and he’s got the hots for Stephen as he gave you a look of disdain. Quite amusing. When the doctor walked away, you giggled and Stephen gave you a look as if he’s in pain.

“He’s totally in love with you.” you teased. He rolled his eyes and said, “He needs to get in line, then.”

“Something tells me he’s already been in the line for a long time now,” you said. He faced you and replied, “That’s tough. I’m already taken.”

You looked away, hoping the bright golden lights would mask the blush that was starting to creep up on your cheeks. It was close to midnight when you two agreed to leave the party. He confessed he had to do the rounds tomorrow morning and you did the same, saying you had to be at work by three in the afternoon.

“What do you think?” he asked you as he eased the car out of the hotel’s laneway into the streets.

“It was fine,” you lied. He glanced at you and you sighed in defeat.

“Fine, it was boring, and a bit stuffy,” you said and he chuckled.

“And my cheek muscles and my jaw hurts from all the smiling,” you continued.

“Do you want to back out?” he asked.

“No.” you said, your voice clear as crystal, and tone full of conviction.

“You can, you know,”

“No. A deal is a deal,” you smoothly said and looked at him. He gave you a smile and turned his attention back on the road.

“Let’s just hope the next party will be more fun for you.” Stephen said and you hummed.

You leaned back into the seat and Stephen filled the comfortable silence with a Pink Floyd track. The citylights quickly flew past your window and you watched them, hypnotizing you, lulling you into sleep. Eyes closed, you gave into your body’s demand for sleep and you let your head softly thud against the Jaguar’s window.

Stephen parked the car in front of your apartment building. You were still asleep when the car stopped and he stared at you in hopes you would just wake up. He then realized, if he waited for you to wake up on your own, you’d be there all night. He had no choice but to wake you up. Lucky for him, just a pinch on the arm was enough for you to wake up.

“Ow!” you gasped and he chuckled. “What was that for?” you glared at him and rubbed the spot where he pinched you.

“You fell asleep. We’re here.” Stephen smiled and you hated how he smiled. He looked so sweet.

“No need for violence, you could’ve just called my name.” you said as you clicked the seatbelt off.

“Oh don’t be so melodramatic!” he mimicked your words earlier and continued, “And I’ll definitely note that.”

“Right, you better do. Guess I’ll see you next week then?”

“Yes, you’ll definitely be seeing my annoyingly charming face next week, Diana,” he chuckled.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Stephen. Goodnight.” you said with a smile and pushed the door open.

“Goodnight, Di.” he called out after you climbed out. When you slammed the door closed, you waved at him for good measure even though he probably didn’t see it behind the car’s tinted windows.

You watched him drive away, a smile playing on your lips. A smile that didn’t hurt your jaw, nor your cheeks. You climbed into bed that night and thought which way you liked the most. Was it the way he called you Diana with a stern, dark tone? Or was it the way he called you Di, endearingly and painfully sweet? You drifted off to sleep, not knowing the answer. Either way, you liked the way he said your name.

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nickireadstfc · 7 years

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The Foxhole Court, Chapter 11 – Orange Sportsball Gets The Fuck Real

In which the Foxes play their first match of the season, I have questions about American college sports, my Percy Jackson obsession has a brief cameo, and I’m sadly less excited about Actual Sportsball Games than I should be.

Sounds good? Then it’s time for Nicki to read The Foxhole Court.

Thursday’s excitement had nothing on Friday’s. The whole school got decked out overnight with vibrant orange and white streamers. Ribbons and banners hung off every sidewalk lamp. Live student bands took over the amphitheater for short concerts and the student newspaper released that morning gave details for the afternoon parade.

Is that, like…………. Normal behavior on game days?? Actual American high school/college students, please confirm. Is this an actual thing???

I mean, I know y’all are big on sports and school spirit, but this big??

Please understand my confusion: At my school, no one fucking gave a shit about the sports teams. I didn’t even know when anyone had games/competitions unless we got told afterwards who won what brilliant award now, and even then like 5% of us cared. And I can’t speak for my uni yet, but I’m pretty sure it’s the same there as well. Do German unis even have sports teams?

I always liked to make fun of High School Musical 3 for having those giant ass banners displaying the athletes hanging in the halls. I am now starting to realize that might be perfectly normal for American schools.

What the fuck.

Also, Neil officially came out now – as a member of the Foxes, that is, of course.

Neil wanted to cut class and hide at Fox Tower until game time, but athletes weren’t allowed to call out without a legitimate medical excuse. Someone from the athletics committee went around all day counting heads through classroom windows, and Wymack would be the first to hear Neil was absent.

They seriously stalk their students all day in fear they might be skipping class? And these students are in college, they are grown adults, not 14-year-olds. Again, is this a thing, what the fuck??

Then again, we’re talking about the country who invented hall passes. This is probably not the craziest thing around.

Fortunately, the Foxes decide to display their first sign of group solidarity in these trying times and guide Neil from class to class. This is a really small detail, but I love it.

I’m imagining Neil as a lil baby duck who obediently follows a big spikey-haired Matt duck, a small white-pastel-y Renee duck or a glamorous blonde Allison duck, wagging behind them in a tiny duck-sized jersey.

Although, when you think about it, they’re all just lil baby ducks following a big Wymack momma duck.

(Someone draw me fanart, I’m BEGGING YOU.)

I’m getting off track. Back to the plot.

Andrew hadn’t lied to Neil back in May. In almost every article that talked of Neil’s pathetic experience Kevin was quoted as having high hopes for him. Kevin really had said that Neil would one day be Court.

Because this is the second time this has come up: What exactly does “being Court” mean?? Like, being Captain? Being MVP? Also, is this a regular sports expression or is is Exy-exclusive? Exyclusive?? Help.

A small silver lining of future hilariousness appears on the horizon: An Exy kickoff banquet is going to happen sometime in the next few chapter, and I am HYPED. This chaotic mess of a team + all their rivals + dates + drinks can only equal a Massive Fun Time™.

Fun for us, not for them, might I add. I am dying to see this.

“[Renee] hasn’t asked [Andrew] yet, but it’s inevitable. (…) Money’s on the table as to whether or not he says yes. Pot’s getting pretty big, so get your bet in fast.”

The only thing the Foxes had in common besides Exy and hardship was their strange obsession with betting on the stupidest things. Neil had figured that out only two weeks into practice. A week didn’t go by when there wasn’t money on something or another.

A team after my own heart <3 Can I join? I can never find anyone to bet on dumb things in my own circle of friends.

Will I throw this piece of paper in the bin on my first shot? Will the bus be late? Will Friend A and B hook up tonight? Will I lose my (nonexistent) emotional sanity to this series before the last book is over?

I don’t know about the others, but the last one is 100% happening.

“There’s something we haven’t told you yet,” Dan said. (…) “So Andrew’s technically legally required to take his medication, right? (…) He struck a bargain of his own with Coach. The only reason he signed with us is because Coach agreed to let him come off his drugs for game nights.”

Is this supposed to come as a big plot twist? Because I kind of saw that coming. 10 bucks says Andrew comes off his meds for all Important Moments.

*insert yet another rant about the negative portrayal of mental health meds as barbaric mind-numbing, mania-inducing ~happy pills~ here*

Anyways, back to game day!! Our beloved foxy nutcases are playing against the Breckenridge Jackals, which is shaping up to be a Fun Time™ as they are apparently the biggest bullies around (second only to the Edgar Allan Murder Mob Clique, of course).

However, when faced with his impending wipe-out on the court, our favourite Sassmaster McSavage reaches new levels of Hell Fuckin Yeah:

“[Gorilla] will break every bone in your body if you give him the chance.”

“Don’t worry, though,” Matt said. “He’ll probably be too busy killing Kevin and Seth to notice you.”

“This is my reassured face,” Neil said, pointing up at his blank expression.

SAVAGE.

I actually laughed so hard at that. This is some Percy Jackson level of sass right there.

Come to think about it, I want the entire AFTG series narrated by Percy Jackson, especially the chapter titles.

“I Am Offered A Foxy Deal”

“My Troubled Past Comes Back To Haunt My Ass”

“I Get Dragged Into Some Gay Shit”

“We Kick Serious Jackal Butt, Sort Of”

Remind me to make a full post of that once I’ve finished the series.

Off topic again. Sorry.

Before we finally begin the actual match (and wow, it’s 1.1k words already), Nicky seems to finally get the mental slaps I’ve been sending him since a few chapters ago:

Nicky looked at Neil. “Hey,” he said, sounding uncharacteristically hesitant. “We haven’t really had a chance to talk after… Well. I wanted to say sorry, but I kept chickening out. Are we okay?”

“I don’t know yet,” Neil said.

Nicky weighed that for a minute, then sighed and said, “Fair enough.”

Deep sigh. Who are we kidding, I can never resist a self-aware comic relief, Nicky, you’re still one of my faves. At least he knows he fucked up.

And now, finally: It’s Orange Sportsball time!!

Time for fast-paced sports action, balls flying, racquets hitting, body-checks left and right, a flurry of energy and emotion… that I simply can’t get behind.

I’m sorry, you guys, but I found myself having to double- and triple-read passages here in order to keep up with who is standing where, who is passing to whom and just generally what exactly is going on. Maybe it has to do with my own lack of interest for any sports involving balls (or actually any sports that isn’t dance, cheer, or anything involving performance), but I’m not really excited about this whole game part, to put it mildly.

Don’t get me wrong: I am loving the emotions attached to it. Solidarity, passion, group dynamics and character development shown on the field, give me all that good shit. I just couldn’t care less about who’s passing to who. Forgive me.

Did someone say passion and group dynamics?

Neil’d watched his teammates fall apart to in-fighting all summer long, but now he finally saw them as a whole. As much as the Foxes disliked each other at times, they disliked their opponents more. They were still too fractured to be truly great, but they were good enough to give him chills.

This is shaping up to be good, you guys.

I can only imagine the sheer gloriousness in the upcoming books when Kandreil finally get their shit together and play on the field as a beautiful unstoppable three-way killing machine. I WILL DIE.

Twenty minutes into the game, Seth is crushed against a wall by three hundred pounds of pure douchebaggery – and I actually do feel sorry for him, not gonna lie – which means it’s time for the moment we’ve all been waiting for:

“Going on for Seth Gordon is freshman Neil Josten, number ten, of Millport, Arizona.”

Neil wondered if casket lids sounded like court doors being shut.

Ah yes, thank you for reminding me, even in the face of impending doom, how incredibly extra our boy Josten is.

“A national champion and an amateur? South Carolina’s gotten even crazier than usual.”

“An amateur and a cripple, you mean,” the dealer said.

Andrew slammed his racquet against the goal, making several athletes jump and drawing more than a few wary looks his way.

This is such a small detail but it’s the /best/. Nobody insults my boyfriends in front of me, fuckface.

Bla bla bla more sports bla bla, I’m putting everything remotely interesting that’s happening in a bullet list because let’s be honest, it’s not fucking much.

Neil scores! Twice! Good boy.

Matt takes a card for the team by punching the fuck out of Gorilla, what a babe.

Also, his mom is a professional boxer? When can we meet her. I’m always a sucker for strong women who could kick my ass.

Gorilla has been hitting Kevin’s hand on purpose all the time, which is not cool, yet not surprising, ain’t no honour in Exy injuries, apparently.

That is it, my dudes.

Writing the next chapter on a coach (yet again) as I’ll be visiting some friends in NRW, so I’ll be coming to you live from my Prime Flixbus Office Space, let’s see how that works out. Till next time, ily all. <3

#tfc #the foxhole court #the raven king #the kings men #nora sakavic #nicki reads tfc #would you look at that!!! I'm on time!!!!#amazing #don't get used to it

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