stephen strange x reader / masterlist
summary; you and wong get tickets to your favourite singer, and drag the sorcerer supreme along for the concert / warnings; bad humour, it was a random idea that just came to me, brief mention of imprisonment, swearing, hinting at sex,
“A Hunk of Hulk of Burning Fudge please.” You smiled at the woman behind the booth, splaying change upon the counter, as you watched her scoop the delicacy into a small and travel safe pot, oozing the green ice cream with a caramel like sauce. “Thank you.”
“You order the same thing every time that we come here.” Stephen rolled his eyes lightly, quirking one of thin brows at you. Rather than denying it, for you both knew that fact was true, you simply shrugged, putting a portion of the avengers flavoured desert into your mouth, with the plastic spoon that accompanied your purchase.
“I am consistent. I think that’s what you were trying to say, and I don’t think you should complain considering my regular pattern of things keeps you... motivated.” Your gaze sternly drifted down to his crotch as you raised your forehead suggestively at the covered body part, sending the message directly to the sorcerer.
“Yes, that is what keeps me motivated. Surely not the need to protect our reality from negative forces that could cause it to plunder into a catastrophe.” In reply, you hummed, a smirk ridden on your face, before your phone beeped. “Who is it?”
“Wong, he’s pissed that we went to get ice cream without him.” Was your answer, as you drifted your gaze over to the counter as you prevailed in thought. “I better get him something, otherwise this weekend is gonna feel like an imprisonment from Surtur. And trust me, I am well versed with what that situation is like.”
“What is happening this weekend?” He asked bluntly, as though he felt left out on some big plot. A grand, rather intoxicating smile danced upon your face, almost cracking the surface like a piece of glass wear.
“We’re going to see Beyoncé!” It practically left you as a scream, your excitement clearly having got the better of you. As passersby walked past, you waved lightly at them, delivering them an embarrassed apology, before attaining your attention back onto Strange. “We have a spare ticket, my friend Darcy kinda pulled out, something about her friend Erik going bonkers again, but... you could come?”
“Me?” He had to repeat the offer, pointing at his chest where the eye of agamotto was hidden beneath his casual attire. It was no secret that you and Wong practically praised the earth for birthing such a beloved icon of the modern age; in fact it was him whom had introduced the singer to both you and Wong.
The pair of you didn’t get that reference, until the two of you delved into some coordinated research online. A part of him regretted ever making a reference about her, since the pair of you were practically obsessed. He was not sure that he’d survive a concert with the two of you, nor that the two of you would live through the performance, it was a rather mundane occurrence for the pair of you.
“No, of course not. I’ll just go and invite the other Stephen Strange; he wouldn’t dare say no to one of my... offers.” You smiled deviously, shovelling more of the fudge flavoured treat, sucking seductively on the cheaply made utensil, batting your eyelashes up at your master.
“Fine.” Stephen sighed, causing you to sigh, and pat the man on the shoulder. He rolled his head back, as he thought of the possible disaster his inclination to say yes would be.
“I knew you’d come around Stephie.” You spoke, handing him the pot of your slowly melting ice cream, pausing a finger upwards in the air, as you began to trail backwards. “Imma get Wong one of those, I’ll be back in a minute.”
“If i was a boy, even just for a day!” At the pitch that you wailed, Stephen winced. Wong was driving, and he was in the passengers seat, he had quite the suspicion that it was indeed not a bottle of water that you had brought along to the show. “Hey, I was listening to that!” You yelled, your voice being targeted at the driver as he fiddled with the track.
“I’m surprised you could hear that over your American Idol audition.” Stephen spoke, watching as your face crinkled, and the song of Wong’s choice had began to play. The sorcerer admittedly had quite a decent time accompanying the two of you, there were no days off with the tasks that you were given the responsibility to protect. Though, there had been a way around that worked out, and thus here the trio of you were, on the way back home.
The beginning of the song Single Ladies bustled from the CD player, and Wong inherently turned it up, watching amusedly as you pouted through the rear view, and crossed your arms. “If you don’t stop insulting me, then you will be a single lady Strange. I can find someone else to put a ring on it.”
“What was that?” He lightly smirked, turning in his seat to face you, as your skin crawled with the remarks of embarrassment. “Did you just admit that you want to marry me?” The man teased, watching as you shook your head, denying his claims that he had clearly heard.
“Nope.” The word popped from your mouth, as you leant against the restraint of your seat belt. “I don’t trust you with purchasing jewellery, you can barely keep track of the items that you wear.”
“I wear the eye of adamotto, the ancient one entrusted me with it. I- where the fuck is it?” His hands raked his chest, scratching the surface of skin below his shirt to find the item. It was gone. One of the most powerful weapons in the universe was lost, and worst of all, at a concert for normal people.
If one of them were to find it, they’d either think it nothing more than garbage, or a sick statement piece that they would brag about to their friends. Or worst of all, they would sell it, for less than it was even worth, since it was priceless, and some big bad would discover it on the shelf on an antique store.
“Language.” Wong muttered as he slipped his gaze only momentarily to the man sat beside him. His face remained void of emotion, but his eyes told another story. He was conflicted whether he wanted to shout at the sorcerer, or try his hardest to remain calm.
“You have to turn back!” The qualified doctor exclaimed, and all of a sudden, Wong performed a U turn, steering in the direction that you all had just come from. “Are you trying to kill us?!” The images of his own accident flashed through his mind, that fault of his own had ended him here, in a flurry of panic.
“If Beyoncé is wearing the eye around her neck, we are forcing her to use it as the cover for her next album. We’ll take some pictures, and then take it.” Wong stated, watching essentially as the man beside him began to bicker, his eyes wide and shocked by Wong’s priorities.
They were supposed to protect the reality, not shape it to their own whim. As they snapped at one another, you felt succumbed by the alcohol that you had subtly consumed, raising your hand to your chest, feeling a chain and a large, sideways diamond shaped pendant against your chest, below the material of your clothing.
Thinking nothing of it, you shut your eyes, and fell into a sleep slumber. Least to say, when you finally awoke with a raging hangover, after they had searched the extents of the stadium, neither of the men were impressed when they saw a familiar shape pressing through your top, mocking them as they established their fury.
“A part of me wishes Beyoncé had worn it.” Wong sulked, as Stephen went to remove the piece from you, but decided otherwise. If anyone could protect the artefact better than himself, it was a very pissed off and hungover you.
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