#doctor strange x ftm reader

[ace-of-gay]

Its okay to be small

Doctor strange x little reader

1,158 words

Edited to the best of my ability

Warnings: age regression, little one feeling anxiety, little names like pumpkin, cartoons and stuffies

Pronouns: none

weight mentioned: none

No skin color or hair type mentioned

You are responsible for your own media consumption especially when theres warnings, dont like it? Dont read it, age regression is a therapist reccomend coping mechanism if you have an issue with it than ignore it.

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With abilities similar to his and Wanda’s but not physically the same you found it better to stay in a building that was safe for your well being where you could openly use your abilities at free will without any repercussion.

Originally you and strange were just close friends but after several years of living with one another his hear found something more in you now that he had freed his mind of Christine, of course he was happy for her but it was finally his time to feel happy with someone.

He felt so much more himself when he finally got the courage to ask you out, since than everything has felt perfect… well mostly perfect.

You desperately wanted him to know about your coping mechanism but past relationships had ended specifically because of it, thankfully he was a very respectful and understanding person so when it came to your personal room he never entered knowing there want anything important in there for him to know about, he just assumed it was a quiet space or a hobby room, if he really wanted to know he would just ask.

That is until today.

He had left for a four day mission, its only been two so as it was you still have two days where you can openly regress around the sanctum with no question, as Wong was on a little mission of his own.

While the fox and the hound play on your tv to fill the silence, you sit on the floor with your collections of build a bears and other stuffie’s akin and all the bear clothing you’ve collected sprawled out on the floor, dressing and undressing them making each one look perfect, paring them up with one another making buddies, friends and significant others, you were originally just gonna play dress up with them but that got put to the side when you imagined them at an avengers like party, lucky you have avengers outfits for your bears so its perfect, taking your favorite teddy’s you make them look like captain America, iron man, black widow, and a few of the others, not having all of the costumes but that’s okay.

You pick the meanest looking teddy, you have him walking around in the collection of all the others when he gets big and mean, you imagine him yelling and than in comes all the avengers quickly getting everyone to safety, the bad bear is trying to hold his side but the avengers taking him down easily.

After that the game was basically done so you pick up two of your favorite stuffies who are always paired together making them fly around the room, the room being fairly large you had plenty of space to walk around as if you’re chasing them.

You had no idea strange was home early, he had called out for you several times, walking around the main rooms looking for you, when he finally heard your giggles and trills and the soft murmur of a movie in the background.

You making sound effects, you were so lost in your world and it intrigued him, he had knocked three different times and you apparently hadn’t heard it so he opened the door just enough to check in on you, what he saw didn’t entirely surprise him, he knew you had trauma from several places in your life especially abandonment so it made sense that being here alone would need coping mechanisms. He knows exactly what age regression is, a smile big on his face and his heart swelling with love as you walk around your room following your stuffies as you make them fly, with a flick of his hand their movements were now in his control.

Flying them wildly around the room causing you to chase them around the room trying to get them back.

Surely your stuffies had grown minds of their own and were actually playing with you, that was what you thought until your foot caught the edge of the rug and sent you falling forward, pulling your arms to your chest and your eyes clenching shut, this is why you don’t want to be an avenger, you freeze, when you’re in danger your mind blanks and expects the fall. Why haven’t you fallen you question, opening your eyes you see an orange glow surrounding your.

Looking over to the door in a panic your body rushes cold, this cant happen, he cant see you like this.

He uses his magic to carefully set you down on the center of the rug as he steps further into the room.

He sees the panic in your eyes and the silent tears running down your cheeks, you’re curling in on yourself, he picks up one of the two stuffies from the floor bringing it to you, you scooting back, your mind clouded with everything that has happened in the past when people found out about your regression, his demeanor meant nothing in the face of admitting what you’re doing.

“I’m sorry” you mutter, he bends down to you, sitting on his haunches, going to place one hand under your chin, your eyes clenching shut until you feel the gentlest touch, the slightest tremor lifting your look, “my love, its okay, there is no need to hide or fear from me”

He moves to put the stuffy in your lap, taking both hands to wipe away your tears, moving to sit down on the floor, pulling you into his lap, holding you close, hushing your whimpers, slowly but surely soothing you back to a calm sense.

Looking up at him once again, feeling slightly bigger than before but still small, “how d’you know bout it?”.

“Pumpkin, you’re not the first little I’ve met, its very common for people in constant high stress and trauma to cope by regressing, its especially common with mental illness and chronic pain”.

“S’that why you so nice right now?”

Chuckling to himself shaking his head, “my love, that may be one of many reasons but its not the big one, the big one is because I love you, there is nothing of you that would upset or bother me, if being small is what helps than I support you ten fold”

A smile slowly casting Its way across your cheeks, turning into him, wrapping your arms tightly around him, it was finally okay to be you, you can finally feel completely and utterly yourself.

“Thank you” you whisper. “There is no need to thank me my love. Can you tell me how old you are?”

Shaking your head than letting it rest upon his shoulder “dunno how old, m’ jus small but not tiny right now”.

Nodding while rubbing your back, “that’s okay well figure it all out together”.

The rest of your day was filled with plenty of cuddles, cartoons and nap together.

This felt entirely like a new possibility of happiness.

《~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~》

Thank you so much @hera4venenosa for letting me write this for you! <3

And thank you @shiny-purple-pizza-eater for helping me make decisions on where they live and what theyre doing <3

[just-a-strange-boy]

better strangers - part 2

part 1 * part 3 * part 4

The handsome stranger you hooked up with turns out to be your sister's new boyfriend. You find yourself conflicted, especially because he won't stop making advances at you.

Pairing: Stephen Strange x ftm!reader

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), cheating (reader endorses it, even though they are literally cheating on reader's sister), unprotected penetrative sex

A/N: honestly, I don't know what "inspired" me to write something as cruel as this, besides the prompt of "infidelity" and maybe wanting to incorperate the tragedy to want someone you can't have in a very off-putting, evil way? ... I understand if this is not the one for y'all and wouldn't mind if you skip. Stephen & Reader are both so unlikable in this, maybe they do deserve each other :/

Having fucked your sister's newest boyfriend during a purely anonymous hook-up was a fact that you did not know how to handle correctly, for a multitude of reasons.

For one, you couldn't possibly be honest and tell her about it, even if you had wanted to. Maybe it wouldn't have been such a shock to her to know that her brother was up for anon hook-ups, it wasn't her place to judge after all, but she certainly would not be too happy about learning how her current boyfriend had hooked-up with him, not all that long ago.

At the same time, it would be wrong to throw Stephen under the bus. Your meeting had been discreet and anonymous, had (as you presumed, at least) taken place before their relationship, though you didn't ask for specifics.

Technically you would have never gotten around to meet him ever again, if it weren't for this surprising circumstance.

It had been a no strings attached thing, sex that didn't mean anything.

It didn't even matter that you knew each other. You had no relation to one another, Stephen should date whoever he wanted to date. What had happened between you two was not of importance.

Besides that, you genuinely liked Stephen. Apparently, that ran in the family, because so did your sister. She seemed to be rather happy with him, from what you noticed at least, and while he didn't come around your shared apartment too often, you still had the opportunity to get to know more of him, this mesmerizing man you had previously wondered about.

He could have resented you. Could have avoided you, out of the sheer of embarrassment of having been intimate with one another and now ending up in this constellation. But he was so friendly around you, the both of you pretending nothing had ever happened, trying to act casual whenever your paths crossed.

Whether it was during shared dinner or just bumping awkwardly into one another whenever he did spent time around the apartment, Stephen usually paused for a quick chat, always inquired whether you were well, flashed you a smile, never seeming so troubled in the way that you were.

Because oh boy, you definitely were troubled. At this point it was just tormenting, the way that night had etched itself into your brain and replayed constantly because of Stephen suddenly being an actual figure in your life - even though it hadn't really meant anything. Silly of you, to tell yourself that. You couldn't forget. You couldn't shut out the fact that Stephen had fucked you and how good it had been. If it hadn't meant anything, you wouldn't have thought about it like this.

Every time he was around, as much as his presence was friendly and enjoyable, you couldn't help but to think about how intimate the prior situation had been. How he had looked naked, all of his hotness. How he had fucked your mouth. How he had spoken to you, deep and filthy. How he had railed you into the mattress afterwards, entirely unapologetic. How he had felt on top of you, how nice his cock had felt inside of you. How he had kissed you and called you handsome.

And whenever you tried to convince yourself how all of that didn't matter, your thoughts still circled back to one realization: Even now that he was in a relationship with your sister, out of all people, you still found him desirable. Not that it mattered how you thought or felt about him.

The one thing conflicting you the most though? Stephen wouldn't stop making advances on you.

It started maybe four to five months after your sister had initially introduced Stephen to you.

On some days, he tended to stay around a while longer after joining dinner. Occasionally, he stayed even longer than that. Sometimes until the morning, so once in a while you could most certainly hear them have sex, trying to shut out the noises with your headphones, rather listening to music than anything going on in the adjacent bedroom.

The day his advances started, he had just come around for dinner after work. Your sister was always keen on inviting him for that purpose only, knowing that in a stressful and time-consuming profession like his, home-cooked meals were a bliss. You couldn't blame him for making use of that and it didn't bother you much to cook for one more person.

Afterwards, Stephen had offered his help with the dishes, assuring your sister that it was okay for her to not join and you would do just fine with the kitchen-cleaning.

So it had only been the two of you in the same room, with your sister remaining in the other. Knowing she still could have heard either of you talking, you once again found yourself in a situation where you couldn't have possibly addressed what had happened between the two of you.

Sometimes you felt more than just an itch to mention it, just to figure out whether he was as conflicted about this as you were.

In all that time of their relationship, you had never managed to talk to Stephen about that night, what it meant (did it mean anything?), either because it had felt wrong to do so or because there hadn't been enough time to mention it.

He hadn't either. Maybe Stephen didn't even want to talk about it and that was only fair. Why should he have? Maybe it didn't even matter to him that it had happened. Maybe you shouldn't ever try to mention it – things were just fine like this. You were friendly and casual around each other, had been for the last months. It hadn't seemed to be an issue from the get go, not for the way you behaved around each other, even though it sure did add to your inner turmoil.

You went on and repressed the urge to mention it... because it worked.

It wasn't an awkward silence between the two of you in that kitchen: side by side, your hands wet with soapy dishwater as you scrubbed plates in the sink, Stephen drying the pots and pans with a dishrag.

He initiated conversation eventually.

“You know... I find myself wondering, with all these amazing meals you come up with. Where did you learn to cook that well?”, he asked you, speaking softly. Looking over at him, you found him glancing back at you in return, his ocean-blue eyes as attentive as usual. He had a mesmerizing gaze. You still hadn't forgotten how your eyes had been locked all while doing the most filthy things imaginable.

“Try and error”, you shrugged and smiled at him, “For the most part. I took cooking courses in the past. Cooking and baking...kind of helps me regulate my anxiety. That's also the reason why I stress-bake and your whole ward ends up with my stuff, because we possibly couldn't eat it all here by ourselves.”

“I consider myself very lucky. Everything you've ever made and I've tasted was very delicious”, Stephen assured you, softly adding your name. It was rolling off his lips so easily and smoothly that you had to scold yourself for even thinking about how nice it was to hear him say it. Though honestly, hearing him say anything was pleasant to your ears. His voice was heavenly.

“Oh, thanks. I live to please, apparently. And put good food in people's bellies”, you said, rinsing off the last plate and putting it aside, before turning to Stephen, holding out your soapy, wet hands – wordlessly asking for the towel to dry them off.

“You're welcome”, Stephen muttered and turned to you. Instead of just handing you the towel, so you could do it on your own, he reached for your hands to dry them off himself, finger after finger, slowly and carefully, stepping a little closer as he took care of your hands.

It was oddly quiet, oddly tense, between the two of you all of the sudden. There was an indescribable force seeming to pull you into each other and you weren't really sure what was going on at this point.

Stephen let go off your hands eventually and placed the towel aside, only to reach out to you again, daring to grab you by the waist, which was very bold. Before you knew it, he had pulled you even closer, pressing your body up to his, looking at you with the same intent and dark gaze, so close you could feel his warm breath on your face.

“What are you doing?” You found your face burning up, caught by the surprise of the moment, heart jumping in your chest, uncomfortably aware that your sister was in the room next door, while the two of you were in a position you shouldn't have been in. But you didn't withdraw from his hold, too overwhelmed with the suddenness, too tense with all those conflicted feelings welling up within you.

“I was just thinking about how I should have fucked you a second time back then”, Stephen whispered, barely audible.

Okay. You couldn't really reply anything to that. The words alone seemed to tie your tongue, even more so the fact that Stephen was addressing the subject so casually, while being so close to you, clearly flirting, saying something he shouldn't be admitting to.

Of course, you weren't able to deny you had thought about it too. Often enough. What it would have been like, had the handsome stranger stayed around to fuck you another and maybe even a third time.

But now? While Stephen was dating a close family member? It felt wrong to even think about what you would let this man do to you if you had the chance. It was most definitely wrong to let him do this. To you. But to your sister too.

“I should...um... sorry”, you eventually said and drew back, easily winding yourself out of his grip, because he let you go without protesting, and then you were fleeing the scene immediately, putting the distance between you, which was more than necessary.

You had no doubts that Stephen understood why you did. He had to know that it shouldn't be happening, that this was so fucking wrong on so many levels, that you couldn't allow this as much as your body was physically craving this man.

Anyone decent would know that it wasn't right. You knew it. He knew it. But that didn't stop the older man from coming onto you whenever he could.

Of course, it wasn't likely to happen while your sister was near or in the room with the two of you, but Stephen coming around the apartment made for plenty of troubling encounters that set you on edge.

It wound you up, because you wanted the other man, you wanted to be touched, to touch him – but you simply couldn't. Couldn't allow yourself to feel like this. Couldn't allow yourself to betray your sister and enable him to do it. You couldn't believe he kept on doing it. You couldn't believe you didn't mind as much as you should have.

And Stephen used this fact to rile you up on purpose whenever your paths crossed.

You were tempted to give in when you stumbled upon Stephen in the shower one morning.

All you had wanted was to go for a piss – it was maybe six in the morning – and you had been so tired that the sound of the shower running hadn't kept you from entering the bathroom. You had just ignored it honestly. Not that it would have been a big deal, after living with your sister for forever, used to sharing the bathroom. While you kept your individual privacy, something like using the toilet when you needed to wouldn't have bothered her much.

But it wasn't her, you recognized quickly.

The clothes currently residing on the hamper were clearly Stephen's, the figure in the shower cubicle was clearly Stephen's, and technically you knew that you should have fled the scene immediately, hoping your presence went as unnoticed as it could be, but you really needed to go to the toilet – the downside of only having one bathroom in the apartment.

You didn't really know what to do. Respect his privacy and leave him be? Talk to him and ask him whether you could just use the toilet for a moment? Your body remained frozen where it stood, barely having closed the bathroom door behind you, and you did the least reasonable thing – gawking at him.

The man didn't notice you right away, standing under the spray of the shower, washing the remainders of soap off his body. He had his back turned to you and you let your eyes drift over the broad backside, over his firm ass, those long and toned legs, undeniably handsome, by any means a true temptation. You hadn't forgotten his the front view either.

There was no way of denying that you were attracted to him – how could you ignore the sight of him – and he was basically served on the platter for you right now. Part of you was definitely subconsciously toying with the idea of being bold and joining him in the shower right away, if it only meant you got to touch him again... Even though you hated you would have been willing to do this in the first place.

“I don't appreciate being spied on in the shower”, the familiar, pleasant voice ripped you out of your thoughts again, and you took note that the man had turned around, looking at you through the glass of the shower cabin, presenting all of his naked glory to you, entirely unashamed.

“You'd only have to ask if you wanted to look.”

“I just wanted to... use the toilet”, you tried to justify your presence, but knew Stephen wasn't buying it by the way his eyebrows arched up at you. You weren't lying, but it must have come off as a silly excuse after staring him up and down.

His mouth curved into an amused smile. You wondered what was going through his head in the same moment. You wondered if he would have let you slip into the shower with him. What would he do to you if you'd only let him?

“Go ahead then, I don't mind”, Stephen responded then and while he was pushing limits, he had the decency of turning his back to you again, actually letting you pee in peace without making another teasing comment. But god, even when he wasn't chatting you up and tempting you with his advances, you couldn't stop resisting. You couldn't ignore him, looking at the man in the shower in the meanwhile and how his back muscles flexed while he was washing himself.

Shaking your head at the ridiculousness of the situation, you tried to get rid of the thought how desperately you would have wanted to join him, getting back up, flushing the toilet, and left the bathroom again, before Stephen could even make the offer to you.

It was only a matter of time though.

You eventually cracked when Stephen came to see you, and you alone, while your sister was working a night shift.

It was late, after ten already, and you had been huddled under a blanket on the couch all on your own, watching you favorite sitcom on the TV while enjoying a cup of hot tea, in your pajamas, wondering who the hell dared to annoy you at that time of day when the doorbell rang.

You hadn't expected a visitor, a little confused at first and more so disgruntled, but still opened the door up, especially when you realized it was no one but Stephen himself after peeking through the spy.

Admittedly, Stephen's presence might not have been expected, though it certainly didn't bother you.

“What are you doing here?”, you greeted him at the door, knowing that he knew about your sister working the night shift today, aware she wouldn't be here and still coming over regardless, clearly having something on his mind. He wouldn't have just come here for nothing. You dreaded the thought as much as it sent sparks of excitement through your body.

“I was wondering if you would perhaps... want some company?”, Stephen requested as you let him step into the hallway before even letting him give an answer, not wanting him to remain in the stairwell where any kind of neighbors could have paid attention to your conversation.

The man closed the door shut behind him, taking off his coat and shoes – it had gotten quite cold outside this time of year – and his blue eyes bore right into you again, the slight smirk on his lips as self-assured and confident as always, as he looked you up and down.

“Sure”, you shrugged without developing any second thoughts and simply accepted, now that he was basically already getting undressed, smiling back at Stephen with means of being a good host. “Do you want some tea? I'll put the kettle on.”

“No, I don't want any tea, thank you”, Stephen replied and with a long stride in your direction, he came onto you, trapping you between him and the wall in no time, cornering you with his broad frame – something you hadn't seen coming until it was happening, something that went far beyond of what was allowed, something that shouldn't have been happening at all.

He wasn't pressing up against you just yet, but it did strike you more than enough having him so close to you again. Because now he could. He was dominating the situation with ease while you went all weak in the knees, and there was nothing stopping you both now.

“But you know what I want, don't you? I think you might want it too”, he spoke then, his voice low and husky, though there was no need to whisper right now. If there was a time to speak all the words needing to be said, if there was a time to resolve the tension between you two, this was it.

After all, you were completely alone. For the first time since that one night, it was truly just the both of you.

“You think?”, you muttered back with a huff, grinning up at him, and your question was answered with a kiss as Stephen leaned into you, his large and gentle hands brought up to cup your face in them, bodies slotting together like they had only once before ever, and a spark of arousal surged through you, being as daring as to kiss him right back, hungry to finally taste his lips again.

It was so wrong, so forbidden. It was so honest, so passionate too. Because neither of you could deny the fact how much you wanted each other, so fucking much you couldn't resist each other, ignoring all kinds of human decency. Ever since that first time, ever since getting a taste of the man that Stephen Strange was, ever since the man had entered your life in the most unexpected way, you had simply craved more of him and you couldn't refuse anymore.

And once you began, you couldn't stop devouring each other. Even when you nudged him backwards with a push, seemingly trying to put distance between you, though only meaning to shove him into the direction of the living room, your bodies returned to each other, like forced by a magnetic pull. Your mouths kept slotting together, your hands stayed busy with pawing at your bodies, stumbling over your own feet and barely making it to the room without tripping.

Both of you were panting heavily by the time you got there, continuing to make out in the middle of your living room, hot breaths mingling between you, and as you stood still for a moment, you could feel your heart thrumming in your chest again, excitement winding your body up, finally able to be with Stephen.

“Let me see you”, the older man requested, closing the distance between you another time as he reached for the hem of your sleep shirt. In silent understanding you let him pull it off you, toss it aside, displaying your body so that Stephen could muster you much better in the soft light of the room. His eyes were set on you, fixated like he was drinking in the sight of you.

You returned the favor, tugging on Stephen's sweater until it was off, once more adoring the sight, finally putting your hands on him again, letting them travel over the plane of his chest, down his toned stomach and further down, going straight for his crotch and you cupped him through his trousers, feeling how quickly he was getting aroused under your innocent touch alone.

“Fuck, you really know how to get me going”, Stephen groaned, shifting his hips to press further into your hand, relishing in the attention given to his member. “I've been dreaming of doing this with you again. Using your mouth again. Maybe letting you ride my cock. Fucking my cum right into you until I have you dripping. All mine”, he admitted, the husky gravel of his voice and his filthy choice of words driving you mad with lust, causing you to squeeze him a little harder, kneading the hardening cock pressing against its restraints.

You were dying to feel him again, dying to feel him in your hand, your mouth, inside of you.

“You don't even wanna know how horny it has made me to have you around all the time”, you responded, proving that you had a filthy mouth too, tempting Stephen as you still massaged his clothed erection, wanting to keep him on edge, wanting to make him as crazy for you as you were for him, “Not to mention how often I came wishing my fingers could be replaced by your cock.”

“I'll gladly be at your service today”, the man then said, letting his hands travel along the pale skin of your chest in return, fingers grazing the fine lines of your scars, trailing over your skin, the wisps of hair on your stomach before tugging on the waistband of your pajama pants with the clearest intentions, snapping it temptingly. “Will the couch do?”, he asked, a devilish smirk on his lips.

“Anything will do”, you shrugged and both of you went ahead to step out of the rest of your clothing in a rush, adding to the heap of fabric scattered along the floor, hands never leaving the other person until you were both completely naked.

Stephen pulled you along to get settled on the couch, sitting down, sinking into the cushions, as you quickly climbed onto his lap, not wanting to waste another minute. Perched atop his thighs, Stephen's fingers dug lightly into the flesh of your waist, keeping you seated there as you plundered each others mouths again, though stilling any movement.

You were very aware that his cock must have been achingly hard, throbbing and begging for attention, already nudging you with interest.

“You're so hot. A sin”, Stephen murmured against your lips, your hands had wound up in his hair, mussing up brown tresses spiked with gray, “Maybe I ended up with the wrong sibling.”

The comment surprised you, but you decided on giving him a mischievous grin.

“Maybe you did”, you mused, too drunk on passion to even think about how wrong your words were. How you were betraying your sister's own trust and doing things you definitely shouldn't be doing, knowing fully well that this would hurt her and ruin not only their persisting relationship, but also your own.

But how could this be wrong if it felt so right?

“And I'll make sure to fuck you so much better”, you promised quietly and unashamed, one hand sneaking over Stephen's lean stomach again, and further down to his cock, grabbing the pulsating member, wasting no time as you led the glistening tip to your entrance, carefully easing him in, a moan and shudder leaving the both of you when you sank down on it.

Yet again, your gazes crossed once more, Stephen's blue eyes staring right into your soul, and parted lips were adorned with a satisfied smile as you took him in entirely.

“You really wanna take the risk?”, he muttered, seemingly unfazed by the lack of protection, thumbs grazing your hip bones, keeping you steady on his lap as you found support on his shoulders, keeping yourself seated on his cock, walls clenching around his largeness, while you were in absolute bliss about the feeling of being so full, heat flushing up your skin.

“I don't care. I want you to fuck me raw”, you pleaded and rolled your hips into him for the first time, starting to move on top of Stephen, leaning in to whisper into his ear, “I want your cum inside of me and I want to feel you for days.”

Stephen took in a deep breath. “Naughty”, was all he whispered back, suddenly so speechless as he grasped your waist tighter, holding you steady as he allowed you to ride him, movements slow and meant to tease, up and sinking back down to take him in completely every time.

You lowered your head, grinning into the crook of his neck where Stephen couldn't see it, panting hard and heavy against his skin, letting your lips brush against his pulse point, kissing his throat, knowing that although you could not mark him, you would make sure to claim him, have him wrapped around your finger – keep him on edge, just because you could, and make this unforgettable.

You wanted him to think about this forever.

Eventually Stephen gained more control over the situation and began moving with you, his own hips snapping upwards to push deep into you when you sank down to meet his thrusts, fingers painfully clawing into the soft flesh of your hips, low groans and ragged breaths filling the air, everything else around you simply fading away. He was hungry.

You rode him hard, vigorously, enjoying every single sound, every single reaction, every hard upward thrust you gained from the man as you bounced on his cock, so entirely at your mercy, surrendering to you so freely – like he wasn't just cheating, like you weren't just enabling him to cheat, like it wasn't your sister you both betrayed here.

But you surrendered to Stephen just as much, intoxicated with the man, his hands tightening their grip on your waist, his breath on your skin, his groans, and the way he fucked you so good.

You were so obsessed with him, enamored with his attentiveness, savoring every touch and kiss and thrust of him. Baring your throat to Stephen, you practically demanded him to claim you, to mark you, bruise you – not caring if you would end up with hickeys and traces of teeth on your pale skin, wearing them proudly, even in front of your sister, lying about them as you were obviously planning on keeping your little secret.

It didn't take long until you came hard on Stephen's cock, your entire body trembling, thighs shaking, while the other man simply kept thrusting into you relentlessly, moving until he himself found release, spilling his hot semen into you, both of you sweaty and panting and melting into each other, groaning into each others mouths and swearing obscenities, basking in the moment of your conjoined high.

He was looking at you then, those ocean-blue eyes still managing to capture you completely, that wicked smirk on his lips, the flush of sex all over him. Delectable. Stephen Strange was a sin. He brought out the worst in you and apparently, you did have the same effect on him.

This time, Stephen stayed. Because he could, didn't have anywhere to be, didn't have to fear being discovered in such a promiscuous position.

He stayed with you, enjoying the afterglow with you, cuddling together on the couch.

He stayed even longer, head buried between your thighs, bringing you to yet another intense orgasm with his tongue. And he stayed for a shower, where you decided to repay the favor and take good care of him, taking a second load, down your throat this time.

Even after Stephen left that night, you didn't have to be alone for long, didn't have to miss Stephen much. You both had a perfectly valid reason to be around each other plenty of times a week – and you continued this small game of sharing fleeting glances at the dinner table, teasing touches when passing each other in the hallway, Stephen arriving before your sister would be home from work and simply coming over when he knew you'd be alone.

There was no reason for her to become suspicious as she was under the impression you just got along rather well. Which you sure did. All you had to do was to keep feeding her pretty little lies.

Sometimes you wondered though... how much longer would you be able to keep this going? How much longer would you be able to endure lying to her, playing this game?

How much longer would you be able to ignore the nasty feeling of jealousy setting in the pit of your stomach and the dooming realization he would never quite be yours?

[marksbear2]

Marvel Masterlist

Steven Grant

Prince’s of the sun and moon series- Part 1, part 2 , part 3, part 4, and more coming soon.

Jester reader (smut.)

Yandere delu Steven (smut.)

Superhero S/o, part 1, part 2

Chubby Steven (smut)

Businessman reader (smut.)

Yandere x Yandere (smut.)

Yandere Steven, subby reader. Part 1 and 2

Wedding day (smut.)

"Promise that you'll never leave me." (smut.)

Sexting.

Big Dick reader

Alleyway sex

Werewolf reader (smut.)

Ass guy reader (smut.)

Writer’s block (smut.)

”What was the dream?” (Smut)

Famous reader (smut.)

photographer reader (smut)

Nudes (smut.)

breeding kink

Glasses (smut.)

In the studio. (Smut.)

Lingerie (smut.)

”Shhh…”

Morning sex.

“Hey im on the phone.” (Smut.)

Christmas (smut)

Videos (smut.)

☑️

Marc Spector & Jake Lockey

Just two dads

Cig (smut.)

☑️

Single fics for the character!

Khonshu- headcanons

Hobie brown

Erik Killmonger

Stephen Strange

Namor (smut)

Peter Parker (smut.)

Drüig

Pugsly (smut.)

Steve Rogers (smut.)

Tony Stark

Namor x ftm reader

Namor with S/o that has ptsd and scars.

Ikaris

Namor with a surgeon S/o

Namor breeding kink

power bottom Doctor Stephen strange

Steve Rodgers x young reader

MORE COMING SOON!!

There’s still a few fics and characters that I have to add!

[betelgeuse-1988]

okay I've never made. a request b4, but uhhh anything nsfw with lawrence + a trans man reader? no real requirements or anything, maybe just like having it be soft n loving,, idk I have a crush on this man n yr writing is lovely <3

omg thank you so much for the request!! and i'm so honored you like my writing fjhdsakfhsa

anyway here it is! i hope it's soft enough for you <3

lawrence x ftm reader (this is my first time writing an explicitly trans reader; lmk if there are any ways i can improve/things i should change!)

warnings: cockwarming, petnames galore!!, unprotected sex, + this was written at 1:00am so big sorry if there are mistakes

“Lawrence?” you said, peaking into his office. It had been a while since the two of you spent a night together, and you were curious as to what had him stuck in his office so late recently.

“Yes, darling?” He said, not looking up from his work. He was sketching something again, Lawrence would always tell you it was just a secret project for a friend. Despite being absorbed by his work, he had a wide smile on his face at the sound of your voice.

Your relationship with the doctor was...strange to say the least. You were hired as an assistant to help him around his mostly-barren apartment after his separation and especially after he received his prosthetic foot. It was a winter job, for you, in order to make some money while off from college. After that, and a few other events most may deem “unethical”, you moved in and developed a budding relationship with the doctor.

“I just…” you trailed off, nervous to ask him for anything all of a sudden. You looked away but also began walking into his office. Perhaps, even for a while, being closer to him would provide you with the necessary confidence to reveal your desires and curiosities. “I wanted to know when you were coming to bed?”

“Oh, darling,” he said, still not looking up at you. “I got home from work late and I really need to finish this as soon as possible. I’m sorry, but…” he stopped, finally looking into your eyes to see your apprehension and just how lonely you looked. “But, why don’t you come here and keep me company?”

You moved to sit in a chair next to his desk, saved for when you would finish work for class with him in his office. Lawrence, however, stopped you before you could actually sit all the way down. “No, I meant, why don’t you come here and sit like a good boy?” he said, patting his lap gently. You smiled and nodded, walking to Lawrence’s side, ready to sit down on his lap. “Ah ah ah,” he stopped you again, pulling down the zipper on his pants. Lawrence pulled out his cock, jerking it to make sure it’s fully hard. Getting wet at the prospect of having sex in his office, something Lawrence was usually turned off by, you pulled down the shorts you were going to sleep in. The doctor chuckled at your eagerness, continuing to jerk himself off slowly. “Now, darling, you’re gonna sit here like the good boy you are and you’re gonna stay as still as possible with my cock in your hole, okay? And if you behave, I’ll fuck you on my desk like you’ve always wanted.”

Too caught up in his words, there was nothing elegant about your response. You could already hear the overeagerness in your voice, without having said anything. “Okay, I’ll try to be good for you, Lawrence.” You walked over to him, fingering yourself open for him. He watched you as he jerked himself off, precum leaking from the tip of his cock already. He rubbed a hand up and down your side as you worked yourself up to three fingers. Once you could thrust them inside comfortably, you pulled them out and finally seated yourself on Lawrence’s member. Feeling him fill you completely right away, without moving, was odd. It was hard not to twitch or squirm, but Lawrence kept an arm wrapped around you. It was a tight grip, reassuring you that you could follow his orders. You were so distracted by keeping still you couldn’t really pay attention to what Lawrence was writing or drawing, only grounded by the few places where you could feel him touching you, skin-to-skin.

It could have been minutes or hours, but the time seemed to tick by like years. You could feel yourself getting wetter, becoming sloppy with how you were stretched around his dick. You were desperate for friction, for Lawrence to just completely wreck you when he tapped your stomach and put his pen down.

“You were so good for me, such a good boy. Now, do you want your reward?” Lawrence pressed delicate kisses on your back, rubbing your stomach as he thrust gently into you.

“Lawrence, please. Need you to fuck me, right here,” you moaned out desperately.

“Shh, it’s gonna be okay. Get up and bend over the desk.”

You hopped off him gently, not wanting to upset his leg more than it probably already was with how long you were sitting in his lap. You pushed some of the papers he had just been working on off to the side, laying directly on his work calendar (filled out with color-coded events and special dates). You felt Lawrence get up behind you, not bothering to discard any other pieces of clothing, his cock poking proudly out of his pants. His khaki pants still cinched by his belt, with a light blue shirt on top and a loose-hanging red tie. You felt like the doctor’s little boytoy, sneaking around during work hours. And, yet, he looked at you, so full of love and admiration, that you knew he genuinely loved and cared about you.

He entered you again, setting a brutal pace easily. Lawrence slipped in, filling you completely and quickly. You were both sensitive from the lengthy cockwarming, approaching your orgasm quickly. Helping to draw yourself closer, you jerked yourself off, desperate to finally reach your orgasm. Lawrence gripped your hips as his thrusting became quicker with an approaching orgasm. Feeling his cock twitch, you encouraged him to cum inside of you. “Cum inside me, Lawrence. Please, please, need it so bad. Make me cum, fill me up.”

His hips slowed down against yours as he groaned through his orgasm, your head dropping to the desk. Lawrence’s cum, on top of his desperate thrusting through his orgasm, helped you to reach yours, squeezing around his cock, finishing off his orgasm. Lawrence sighed contently behind you, pulling out to let you get up. He handed you the discarded shorts as you stretched, ready to head to bed for the night. But, instead of accepting the shorts right away, you pulled him in for a hug, kissing his cheek sloppily.

“Thank you, Larry. You always know what I need,” you snuggle into his neck, content to be in his loving presence after so long. “I love you, darling.”

He snorts at your use of his favorite petname, but he squeezes you extra tight. “Love you, too, darling.”

[thebisexualdogdad]

Marvel masterlist

* means nsfw

■ means male reader

□ means gender neutral reader

Kate x reader

The ex ■

The ambush ■

Barton reader headcanons ■

Dog walker headcanons ■

The doctor □

Black onyx society headcanons ■

Ghost rider reader headcanons ■

Daredevil reader headcanons □

Werewolf reader headcanons (part 2) ■

Victorian detective AU □

Silver snake syndicate ■

Alone time * ■

Yelena meets Kate's boyfriend ■

Doctor strange apprentice headcanons ■

Just friends* □

Who can blame me* □

Asgardian reader ■

Gamer Kate Headcanons □

Quiet son of wolverine headcanons ■

The rooftop □

Deadpool son reader headcanons (part 2) ■

Venom bonded reader ■

Sound of thunder* ■

Handsy during missions headcanons □

Workout distraction* ■

Acts of service love language headcanons □

Best date ever ■

Dom Kate x Shy reader* ■

Deadpool reader ft Jeff the land shark ■

Jock!Kate x nerd!reader college AU* ■

The stakeout* ■

Felicia x reader

The robe* ■

Theivery with benefits* ■

The long con □

Smut headcanons* □

El Diablo reader headcanons ■

Doesn't mean anything ■

Not knowing she's black cat headcanons ■

Fluff headcanons □

The Halloween party* ■

Peter x reader

Jealous top Peter headcanons* ■

Awkward* ■

Camp counselor headcanons* ■

Hotel room headcanons* ■

Meeting the parents ■

Walk away ■

Hawkeyes son ■

The deli ■

Homecoming headcanons ■

Just friends ■

Care to join?* ■

Hotel fun* ■

Are you a member of the mile high club?* ■

A list of firsts ■

Secrets □

Getting caught at school heacanons ■

Jock!Peter x quiet reader AU headcannons ■

Cassie x reader

Really good buddies ■

Parker!Scarlet Spider reader headcanons ■

Doctors orders ■

Eddie x reader

Ftm reader x ftm Eddie first time* ■

The Nascar driver* ■

Misc

Himbo reader headcanons (darcy x reader)■

Nerdy boyfriends headcanons (peter x reader x MJ)■

Dick measuring contest* (Peter x reader x MJ)■

Musician spider reader headcanons (gwen x reader)□

Trans reader headcanons (wade x reader)■

Brad and MJ (Brad x reader)■

Let me take care of you* (MJ x reader)■

Feels like home (yelena x reader)□

More than enough (yelena x reader)□

Venom reader headcanons (yelena x reader)■

Dating headcanons (domino x reader)□

Ten year wait* (shang-chi x reader)■

[xmalereader]

Thomas Shelby X FTM ! Reader

-

|| Masterlist ||

-

I hope no one gets offend by this if I didn’t write this correctly, it’s my first time writing FTM so bare with me, also 1920’s was a rough time for same sex couples so do your research before you attack me :)

Requested; hey! hope you're well!! could i request a Tommy x m reader where r is ftm and is feeling Not Good Enough™ and Mr T Fooken Shelby makes him feel better? I'm aware that's vague as fuck and i am so sorry! :) ☀️✨

Warnings; fluff, reader struggling withchange, Thomas being a softy for his boi, cuddling, Shelby family being supportive, Tommy loving his boi, gonna use a random girl name for awhile!!

@chicken-poncho

-

-

He’s finally done it.

No more dresses, no more long hair, no more with having to deal with being someone he is not! Today was the day that he came clean and would confront his boyfriend of one year that he was a changed man and that this is who he truly is.

He stares at hismelf in the mirror, taking in the details of his new haircut and clothes. He can’t help but smile at himself, this was the right thing and it felt right...but would tommy approve? He’s heard of all the rumors about this sort of stuff and how they are casted out and treated like they were mental. His sudden happiness faded away into anxiety as his body shook in fear, was he really ready for this?

His anxiety spikes up once he hears the sound of the front door slamming shut, telling him that tommy was home. He gives hismelf one last look in the mirror before placing his own cap on and heading out to greet his own boyfriend.

He makes his way down the stairs in silence as he hears Thomas enter his office, he drapes his coat over a chair and grabs a glass cup, pouring hismelf a drink as he sighs tiredly. All he wanted to do right now was have a smoke and then sleep away his troubles, hoping that the next day would be less troubling.

As he hears his office door squeak open he can’t help but think that it’s Emma entering his office. “Sorry that I’m late darling, I know that I—“ he turns around to face the stranger that stood inside his office.

Thomas rasies a brow at the strange man that stood in front of him and in silence, he sets his drink down and slowly approaches him. Studying the man closely as realization hits him. “Emma?”

The other flinches from the name, the name that was given to him by birth. A name that he truly hated. “Not anymore...” he can only whisper out as he avoids Tommy’s eyes, waiting for the other to blow up on him or to kick him out, maybe call him disgusting or send him away to a a doctor—!

“Then what should I call you.”

His eyes widen at the sound of Tommy’s soft voice, his head snaps up to see Thomas staring down at him. He didn’t show any signs of anger or disgusted, he couldn’t tell what he was feeling so he swallows his anxiety and responds back. “Y/n.”

Tommy reaches up to remove the cap, slowly lowering it down as he takes in y/n’s new cut. Chucking he ran his fingers through his new cut. “Did the maid cut it, she seems to have missed a spot.” Y/n is surprised by Tommy’s words. “What?”

Thomas sets the cap down. “Whoever cut your hair missed a few spots, you’ll need to fix that in order to look like a man.” Y/n stares in shock, “Thomas aren’t you—“

“Upset?” Tommy finishes for him as the other nods slowly.

“Why would I be, besides I always knew that you weren’t comfortable in those dresses. They never did suit you.” He chuckled out. Tommy didn’t need an explanation about this, he already knew all along he was an observant man and can read anyone like an open book. He once caught y/n trying on his clothes and noticed how comfortable he looked in them and how happy he was, that’s when he put two and two together and figured out everything. He didn’t need to confront y/n since he wanted him to speak up about it first when the time was right.

“You knew?”

“You’re an open book, love.” With that he leans down to steal a kiss from him, causing the other to blush.

“Now, I’ve been very busy and I’m very tired so why don’t we go upstairs into our bedroom and get some rest, yeah?” Tommy grins as he downs his drink and walks back over to y/n, wrapping an arm around him as the two head to their bedroom.

Y/n’s lip twitch up into a smile as he follows Thomas to their bedroom. After a year of being together he never expected Thomas to be so accepting towards him, always thinking that he felt uncorktable around him when really he just loved him a lot more.

—

“Alright everyone, family meeting!”

Tommy was shouting around the betting shop as he rounds up his family members, making sure that he has everyone in the family room before closing the double doors that lead them to the shop. He makes sure to count everyone up, knowing that everyone was here and waiting for him to speak.

“Alright—“

“Wait, where’s Emma? She’s part of this family too you know.” Said Polly as she lights up a cigar and raises a brow. “Don’t tell me that you left her for another women, she was a nice girl you know.” Tommy sighs, lowering his head as he shakes it. “Emma is—“ he didn’t know how to explain to the family. So, to put it all to rest. “She’s dead.”

“Bloody hell, tommy.” He hears John say as the rest of the family are shocked by the news. “Actually she was never really born.” He adds, only getting confused looks from the others. “Tommy what’s going on?” Said Ada, growing stressed and worried.

Tommy stands up straight and clears his throat. “Y/n, get in here.” He calls out as a pair of tapping shoes are heard from coming down the stairs. Y/n steps out to face the Shelby family, keeping his head down as he grew anxious and nervous.

“Emma?” Said Ada as she is able to see y/n’s face clearly.

“No Ada,” Said tommy as y/n approaches him and stands next to him, avoiding everyone’s eyes as he tries to concentrate on his shoes or on the floor, just something to keep him distracted.

“That women that you all knew was never born and instead grew up as a man, someone who we all dearly love and know so from today on, you will address him as Y/n.” Said tommy as he eyes everyone, Polly was the only one to be able to put the puzzle pieces together, she knew that tommy wasn’t very good at explaining this sort of stuff to others which means that she must be the only one that understood.

As the room grew silent, Y/n’s anxiety can only spike up. He hears the sound of a chair scraping against the hardwood floors and the sound of tapping shoes, his eyes slowly widen in fear as the person gets closer. He notices the high heeled shoes and quickly recorgnizes them as Pollys.

He flinches when he feels her fingers graze against his cheek as they trial down to his chin, lifting his head up slowly as he looks into Polly’s eyes. Polly slowly smiles at y/n. “Welcome to the Shelby family.” She says softly, using her thumb to wipe away y/n’s tears that were slowly trailing down his cheeks.

Tommy smiles at Polly as she pulls y/n into a hug, whispering soft words into his ear as she tries to calm him down. “Now, now, dear. No need to panic, we all support your decision and we promise to keep a close on you, we don’t want anyone else to notice, now do we?” She says the last part out loud as the rest of the family agrees. “People like you can easily get hurt but your now a part of the Shelby family so your safe with us.” She places a kiss on his forehead.

Y/n chuckles lightly at her humor. “Thank you, Pol.”

“Oh! He sounds handsome too.” She says, earning another laugh from him.

Y/n blushes, not noticing the others approaching as they pull him into hugs. He would get his hair ruffled by Arthur and John while Finn could only stare and blush at Tommy’s boyfriend, suddenly acting nervous around him while Polly and Ada started throwing him complimates and teasing him as they flirted as well.

Tommy watches his family closely, leaning against the wall as he watches Y/n being showered in affection and support from one of the most dangerous families of all. He can’t help but let one of his rare smiles slip as he continues watching his lover getting the suppprt and love that he deserves.

He pushes himself off the wall and walks over to wrap his arms around y/n and pull him into a hug. “Alright, no more affection form you guys, that’s suppose to be my job.” He says as he shoos away his family members who laugh in return. Y/n giggles as he fixes his hair and turns to face Thomas. “Thank you, for everything.” He tells hims. “You’re welcome, for everything.” He says back and leans down to kiss his boyfriend.

Y/n kisses back and smiles against his lips, he hears the others whistle causing him to blush in embarrassment.

“Right that’s enough.” Tommy shouts at his brothers as they laugh and tease the couple. “Back to work now.” He adds as the brothers groan and head back into the betting shop.

“You better not fuck under this roof, you have your own house for that.” Said Ada as she passes by them, a grin on her face while Tommy glares in return.

Y/n shakes his head. “No promises.” He gives her a smirk in return, feeling Tommy’s arms tighten around his torso. “Just like he said, no promise so will be starting now.” And with that he drags y/n upstairs and into the spare bedroom, making sure to lock the doors not wanting to get interrupted by anyone.

[just-a-strange-boy]

better strangers - part 1

part 2 * part 3 * part 4

When you signed up for that anon hook-up service, you hadn't quite expected to meet such a handsome stranger.

Pairing: Stephen Strange x ftm!reader

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), one night stand, sex with a stranger, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative sex, Stephen being sinfully hot

A/N: told you this was coming... sorry about the ending, I'm evil. Stay tuned for the second part though ;)

You had been so convinced it would be easy.

Being here and waiting was however anything but. Even during check-in down by the bar, you had already begun second guessing your initial decision to do this, a fair amount of worries – which you maybe should have thought about before coming here – coming up and tormenting you just now.

What if you wouldn't like it after all? What if you couldn't go through with it? What if the stranger wouldn't be as open-minded as you needed them to be? What if he wasn't appealing, not great at this or just not nice? What if he was a creep?

It had been a silly idea.

You'd only been on the lookout for some fun when you signed up to that online platform.

Having heard about it from a friend, who had been very enthusiastic about the matching process and the anonymity it offered, you had decided to give into your own curiousity and checked the website in question.

Even just at first sight, it seemed to be a legit and serious platform, professional, rather progressive as well, LGBTQ+ friendly, allowing to pick from plenty of options when it came to preferences, guaranteeing a high success rate in getting your needs met to a T.

It was the guarantee you needed the most, because you were growing a little desperate, ever since breaking up with your boyfriend. You were disastrously horny, hadn't been fucked in a long while and wanted to look for a fun time to fulfill your sexual needs.

Unfortunately, you weren't forward or extroverted enough to put yourself out there on full display in a club. A regular dating app was out of question too. Well, sure – you could have chosen to check one of them out and perhaps still succeeded after a reasonable amount of time, but you didn't want to bother with the long process of messaging back and forth with people, until you'd find a potential match looking for the same as you did: one time thing, without strings attached.

The online platform your friend had suggested, made it so much easier. The name said it all.

One Night Strangers.

Signing up had been simple.

There was no need to put pictures or an actual name – since that was the point of remaining strangers. The online page just asked for a couple of details important for the matching process, such as age and gender, sexual orientation, usage of contraception or prep (absolutely mandatory), preferences and kinks, and a couple more boxes to click for additional information to ensure the most comfortable encounter.

You also had to choose which days of the week and which time of day would work best.

Checking the terms of agreement before finalizing the sign up (after all you wanted to be safe and make sure you hadn't misunderstood anything about the process), you had stumbled across the fact that the platform would determine the specifics of the encounter as soon as they had found a match. No need to even talk to the stranger. Perfect.

All you had to do, was to accept the match made and pay an estimated sum in advance that would cover the cost for the place you'd meet at. Encounters would apparently take place at a location partnered with the platform, where every participant would go through a discreet check-in shortly beforehand, meaning this was as anonymous as could get while also being as safe as possible.

Being fine with all of this, you had agreed and the platform had done what it apparently did best, matching you with someone in the New York area almost immediately: M37. That's all you knew. Well, besides the fact that your preferences seemed to align. And the where and when.

Friday, between 8-10pm, Lotus Laurea Bar, Room 12.

You hadn't harvested many doubts then, excited about the fast matching process and the fact you were meeting up with a person you didn't even know for the only purpose of getting laid.

It had been a silly idea, but you hadn't been averse to it by any means.

So of course, you had clicked the button to accept the match, paid the money, by no means a large sum, and found yourself at the Lotus Laurea Bar by Friday, shortly before eight.

The bar in question was a small, independent business with a handful of rooms and an adjoined LGBTQ+ nightclub. It wasn't a shifty or suspicious place at all, which was definitely a relief.

The check-in had been as easy and discreet as promised. The staff member had exactly known what you were here for as soon as you'd shown them the invoice on your phone.

They had been very respectful and considerate too, assuring you there was no need to worry about anything, while you'd been asked to sign a form of consent, confirming that you were of legal age and doing this out of your own will – a safety precaution you thought was fair, for legality alone.

Then they had simply slipped you the room key and told you that the stranger you'd been matched with was not here yet but would come up to the assorted room and knock as soon as he arrived.

So you headed up to the designated room 12 and made yourself ready for some dreadful waiting.

The accommodation was actually quite nice, especially considering you had paid so little for it. The room was small, sure, didn't have any windows, but smelled fresh. Everything was clean and neat, looked comfortable and you were convinced you could try relaxing for a moment here, though the loud music from the club downstairs ruined the quietness.

The ambient light however was lovely, a dark blue hue filling out the room.

The bed was somewhat medium-sized – more than enough for one person, a little small for two people sleeping comfortably in it – but since you didn't think you'd get tempted to cuddle with a stranger after sex anyways, it suited the cause well enough. On the nightstand there was everything provided that might be necessary – lube as well as condoms.

There was a bathroom included too, which you used right away, trying to fight your own nervousness as you took another shower after already having thoroughly cleaned yourself at home.

But that was the thrill of fucking a stranger, wasn't it? Not knowing what you'd be in for. Not knowing what to expect. It was just normal to experience a bit of nerves, right?

You certainly had plenty of them.

Because what if the stranger changed their mind and wouldn't come? Were you just meant to wait until ten, go home with money wasted and still underfucked? What if you would change your mind last second and flee in a rush, before M37 could even get here? Was the promised guarantee really that high? Would it be good and worth it?

Perhaps hooking up at the club downstairs after getting plastered with a few drinks would have been a lot easier to handle. They'd still all be strangers to you. But you would have had to approach them and that definitely wasn't your thing.

Besides that, you had gone through all the effort already, having showered and cleaned yourself literally everywhere. The idea was still tempting, if a little frightening.

Though in the end, you were probably just worrying for nothing. What's the worst that could happen? If you didn't like the sex, you could just say so. You could say No. Certainly the stranger would understand, after agreeing to the same terms and signing the same form of consent as you had. If you didn't like the overall experience, you would never have to do it ever again afterward.

A sudden knock to the door sent your heart rate sky-rocketing.

You waited, swallowing down your nervousness, your heart almost springing out of your chest at the sudden awareness and realization that this was totally gonna happen now.

For the flicker of a moment you were afraid of getting seriously panicky, but it was more so the rush of excitement and anticipation than the threat of a breakdown – so you tried the very best to get your shit together and took a deep breath. Brace yourself. You were going to do this.

“Come in”, you replied timidly to the knock, unsure whether you should have gotten up to greet the stranger at the door instead of sitting here on the bed. Wearing nothing but the towel from showering earlier on, part of you had also wondered whether to just get on hands and knees, waiting in the most useful position to get fucked, no need for any foreplay and introductions and such.

You figured it didn't really matter though and remained right there, expectant and curious and awfully nervous.

The door opened and the stranger stepped inside.

The ambient light was a little too dark to make out how he actually looked from the distance, but M37 seemed to be exactly that (a man, in his thirties) and more. Lean. Long legs. Dressed in a damn suit.

He carefully closed the door behind him and moved further towards the bed, and therefore also towards you.

There was an immediate unexpected tension in the air between the two of you, hard to deny. It wasn't awkward by any means. If anything, it was incredibly hot, the way he was slowly stepping in your direction, his full attention on you already, not a single word spoken because there was no need.

The stranger was enticing, pulling you in with his mere presence, dominating the scene and grasping all of your attention – you could feel your heart hammer even more, finding it hard to breath for a moment, and were eager to catch a good look at him when most of the distance had already been crossed.

With the stranger now closer to the source of light, you could make out how truly handsome he was. Definitely a lucky match. He was more than you had hoped for. Downright hot as fuck. There was something peculiar about his face, all sharp angles, from his smooth jawline to his high cheekbones, curved and full lips that were very tempting, his intense eyes, pupils blown wide with lust as he stared back down at you.

It suddenly made you feel very small sitting on this bed before him.

You weren't sure whether to talk to him, didn't know whether you should ask questions about how you wanted to do this or what the man was going to prefer to do first. Was it fair to ask how to start? Perhaps he would set the tone? It would be more than fine if he told you what to do.

As you looked him over, you wondered whether the stranger had any experience with anonymous hook-ups like this. Maybe he had. He didn't seem as nervous as you, carrying himself so self-confident, unashamed, coming to stand before you, eyes mustering you for a long moment, before he moved again.

Bringing his hands up to cup your face in them – large, warm hands – and letting the tension reach enormous heights, he eventually bent down to your level and leaned in real close.

His hot breath was lingering against your lips for a moment and he was just waiting, knowing it might rile you up and put you on edge, all while he hadn't even really done anything.

As he pressed his lips to yours, whatever barrier might have been between you (and in your head for that matter) just broke.

Since you had most certainly ticked the box for “kissing” in the sign-up process, it hadn't been entirely unexpected – and weren't you just glad you had!

Even though the stranger's lips were soft, he wasn't primarily gentle, kissing you hungrily, demanding you submit to him, claiming your mouth, tongues entwining, teeth clashing, and you found yourself getting aroused by the sudden attention.

Trying to waste as little time as possible, you slung your arms around the man's broad frame, pulling him forward and onto you, shuffling to get settled on the bed with him. Apparently that didn't need any words either. It was as if your bodies already knew what to do, slotting perfectly together.

The stranger was very careful not to crush you, holding his own weight without struggle, as he continued licking into your mouth, and to no surprise began grinding against you not long after, his sizable bulge brushing your thigh that was barely covered by a bit of towel, shooting another surge of raw arousal through your body.

Okay, maybe this had been a good idea after all. Because wasn't he just great? The platform had assigned you the perfect stranger. Handsome, a good kisser, hungry to devour all of you.

You were already dying to get fucked by him, who so passionately kept your mouth occupied, swallowing your little moans and whimpers right away, feasting on them, letting them urge him on.

Easing your grip around him, your hands moved along the collar of the man's dress shirt and you began busying yourself with opening the buttons one by one, hoping he would get the drift immediately. You needed to get him out of his clothes! And since you already were only in a towel, it was fair that you got to see him as well.

Upon breaking away, as the stranger peeled himself out of his shirt, you used to perfect opportunity of checking him out, making out a sculpted and trained torso. Of course, he looked handsome under his clothes as well!

Seemingly taking good care of himself, you wouldn't have been surprised if he had an entire row of people waiting, trying to get with him, looking like that.

So why do it like this, was the question that arose, taking the sight in, as the stranger stood back up, toeing his shoes and peeling his socks off.

Middle-aged and attractive, clearly confident enough and open to anything, he could have gotten laid anywhere. Perhaps he was in it for the thrill, liking the anonymity.

There was something oddly exciting about having sex with a stranger, you couldn't deny it, so maybe he was just in it for the general experience, like you.

Figuring that the stranger's reasoning was technically none of your concern – he was here to fuck after all, just like you, anything else didn't matter, and it was nothing personal either – you shuffled back up as well, coming to sit on the edge of the bed again as he stood before you.

You looked up at the stranger then and checking that he had his eyes fixated on you, you reached forward, your hands landing on the fine leather belt, of course only accidentally brushing the bulge he was sporting, giving him more than just a suggestive look.

The man took in a deep breath, but hummed in agreement, patiently waiting as you went to unbuckle his belt and mercifully free him from the restraint of his fine trousers, leaving his prominent erection covered by only his underwear.

God, the fact he was able to keep up par to your eye-contact, while clearly achingly aroused, told you more than you could have figured out by questioning him. He was able to keep himself restrained, looked as stoic and composed as before. He was prepared for this and feeding off the moment, his lips parting ever so slightly as you squeezed his hardening cock through the remaining fabric, continuing to keep your gazes locked as you leaned forward to bring your mouth to his clothed erection.

As composed as he was, you could hear the man's breath stuttering then, running your lips along the hard outline of his cock, and you couldn't help but to grin at his reaction. You didn't want to tease him for too long though, pulling the waistband of his underwear down, the throbbing erection springing free, practically begging to be sucked off – and you wanted. His cock looked delicious. You needed to taste him.

There still weren't any words necessary between the two of you and obviously, you currently would have rather liked to keep your mouth busy otherwise anyways, grabbing the base of the stranger's cock firmly as you placed small licks around the cockhead, lapping up the precome oozing from his tip, eyes still locked together.

“You want me to fuck your mouth, pretty boy?”, he asked. Damn.

Now you were the one to feel your own breath hitch in the back of your throat now, stopping your advances as you heard the man speak altogether, for the first time, his voice low and smooth, his words filthy and promising. He sounded so fucking hot, you could have probably drowned in the low grumble.

“Yes”, you responded in a whisper, mouth returning to his cock, tongue swirling around the tip once more, before wrapping you lips around him again, taking in as much of him as you could, struggling to breathe in deep through your nose, trying not to lose eye contact with him.

Pulling back, you pressed your tongue up to the underside of his throbbing member, savoring the taste of the man, feeling your own lust coiling tightly in your core. He was intoxicating.

The stranger didn't speak another word, his large hands coming to gently hold onto your head at first, before his grip tightened possessively, urging your mouth off his cock, pulling your head back hard by grabbing a fistful of your hair – and then, he guided your head forward again, easing himself into your mouth once more, careful at first and for another few times, eyes never leaving the sight.

You welcomed him in each time, opening wide, ready to be used as the stranger sank his cock deep into your mouth, all the way to the back of your throat, where you felt your own body protesting, muscles tightening, gagging around him, before releasing you again, pulling back out. Your gag reflex wasn't as shy as you would have needed it to be right now, but even that didn't seem to irritate the stranger, tightly holding onto your head as he thrust into you mouth again, not quite as deep, aware of your response.

Like the good little slut you were, you gladly accepted his advances, sucking on him hard, moving your tongue along the throbbing flesh, and the stranger fucked your mouth exactly like he had promised, using you just like you had wanted him to, leaving little opportunity to catch your breath. He groaned loudly when you tried to take him deeper down your throat again.

The thrusts slowed eventually, allowing you to regain more control of the situation – you were as relentless as he was, insistent on serving him well, reaching up to gently caress his balls, your other hand wrapping around the base of his cock again, sucking him hard into your mouth yet another time.

“I'd love to come down your throat, but if you want me to fuck you, you need to stop”, the stranger spoke up again, holding your head still for a moment, his eyes piercing deep into your soul.

“Can't go twice?”, you wondered, having pulled back from his cock altogether.

“We don't have all night”, the stranger shrugged it off and almost tenderly, he gave you a little shove, urging you to shift further back on the bed, while stepping out of his own pants before joining you there.

You weren't protesting, making yourself comfortable as you lay back into the pillows. The towel around your waist had come apart in the meanwhile and you mindlessly shoved it down to the floor – it was just a nuisance at this point – unashamed to present yourself to the other man, knowing there was no way to save your dignity anyways.

You knew the stranger's eyes were raking over you, watching you in the soft light, naked and wanting and spreading your legs for him – and he seemed entirely unperturbed about it.

“I'm sure your holes can please me just as well”, he mused then, crawling towards you on the bed, his throbbing hardness, wet with spit, brushing your thighs as he covered you with his weight, unashamed to bring your mouths together again.

And you had no doubt he would please you just as well, pressing your hips upwards into him, begging for more, aching for it just as much. You didn't want to wait any longer, couldn't, wanted to have this hard and throbbing cock inside of you, let him fuck you all the way to next Sunday.

“Patience”, the stranger scolded you, shifting a little again to reach for one of the condom wrappers provided on the bedside table, preparing himself with swift movements, and not wasting any more time, returning to your body and eager to give you what you both wanted.

You sucked in a deep breath with absolute anticipation as the stranger aligned his cock with your entrance, rubbing his hardness over your wet folds, smacking it against your small nub you were proud to call your own cock. He was teasing you, obviously, because he could, all while his eyes never broke your gaze.

Patience got a whole new meaning as the stranger continued to toy with you, the tip of his cock barely pushing into you, just nudging your hole like a promise that was seemingly never going to come true at this rate – and you were absolutely about to complain, though didn't have to after the stranger gave into your wordless pleas, hands gripping your hips hard, burying himself fully into your tight heat.

You groaned at the sudden intrusion. Blowing him had gotten you so needy and wet that you had been able to take him in without any issue, the large cock was stretching you out so nicely and you were more than happy to keep the stranger in place between your legs, reaching out to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in to reconnect your mouths as the man started to move inside of you.

Honestly, either way would have been perfectly fine with you. He could have fucked you roughly and quickly, destroying you with sharp thrusts – or he could have taken you slowly and deeply, painfully teasing you and dragging out your encounter.

It would be good. It would be perfect.

The stranger made sure to keep switching the rhythm and pace, playing with your patience because he could, taking his own pleasure but also making sure that you would have a good time. Even though you were nothing to each other, he handled you with so much care, fucking you with a passion, precise thrusts that sent hot flashes up your spine and sparks of arousal through your entire body.

Your mouths mingled together, seemingly melting into one another, bodies entwined, sharing each others breath and pleasure like you had done this many a times before.

Your feverish kissing broke after a while, both of you sweaty messes, groaning and moaning into each others mouths, chasing your ecstasy and enjoying your lust-driven high together.

Holding onto the stranger with a tight grip, your arms and legs kept him in place – you certainly weren't going to let him go now – as you got railed into the mattress, driven closer and closer to the edge of pleasure.

“Fuck, I'm so close”, you moaned, brain turned into putty, intoxicated by the stranger and every thought gone, except one - you wanted him to go on. “Please. Don't stop now.”

Your soft whimpers and pleas seemed to only encourage him, the rhythm changing, slow and deep, cock filling you out to the brim, both of you breathing hard, gazes drawn to each other, neither of you capable of looking away.

“You're gonna come on my cock like a good slut, hm?”, the stranger groaned, drawing out the last thrusts painfully slow, eager to sent the two of you over the edge.

A hard shudder surged through your body, a sudden ease to all the tension building, your core throbbing, your walls clenching around the stranger, who was continuing to move inside of you, fucking you all the way through both of your orgasms.

You had felt him tense up, his body trembling as he too had tripped over the edge, and only then did your eye contact break. He closed his eyes, enjoying the overwhelming feelings all the way through his orgasm – and so did you.

Tired out, breathing hard, entirely overrun by the intensity of your orgasms, you had come to lay side by side.

You felt awfully empty without the stranger's cock inside of you and maybe, just maybe, if your stamina allowed for it and you dared to ask for it, you'd let him fuck you another time – if he wanted to stay around, of course.

You couldn't really ask just yet. Even after catching your breath, the words seemingly got stuck in your throat. Looking back over at him, you marveled at the handsome stranger, eyes still closed, little huffs escaping his parted lips, his toned chest heaving and sinking again, cock now nestled flaccid and satiated against his thigh, condom filled with his semen.

Some little part of you wondered. Who was he? What was his name? What did he do in his every day life? What else was there to him, besides the fact that he was an exceptionally good lay? Why was he pursuing a one night stand like this?

It took a moment until the man regained his previous composure and began to stir again, sitting up on the bed. He turned towards you, addressing you so casually, like he hadn't just pounded you into the mattress. “That was fun. Really needed this”, he spoke, his voice calm, not an ounce of the raw filthiness from earlier left, “Never been with a trans man before, but my, my... I got lucky to get someone as gorgeous as you.”

“You're quite the handsome stranger yourself”, you replied with a grin, positively flattered by his compliment.

The man smiled back at you before he got up from the bed. “Mind if I have a quick shower?”, he asked politely, circling the bed to where he had lost his clothes, picking them up from the floor.

“No, you...uh... can take your time... I'd... uh... you could stay around for a second round though, if you wanted to?”, you spoke shyly, finally daring to make the request.

The stranger seemed to consider your suggestion for a moment, then plucked a phone out from the pile of clothing, apparently checking the time. “Shit, it's late already”, he cussed, giving you an apologetic look, “Sorry, I can't. Technically I wouldn't be opposed to another round, but... I really need to get going.”

“Oh, okay”, you shrugged, obviously a little disappointed, but you weren't going to throw a fit about it, pulling the rumpled blanket over your form instead, not because you needed to hide any of your nakedness in front of the stranger, but even more so because you were getting a little cold without his body warmth and the heat of sex.

“Thanks for the fuck though”, you made sure to let him know, an awkward smile rising up to your lips.

The stranger shot you another smile too, before turning into the bathroom and taking, as announced, a very quick shower, returning to the room mere minutes later, all dressed up again, prim and proper.

Part of you had expected him to just say his goodbyes and leave, perhaps even not say anything to you at all since you were nothing to one another, but then he walked over to the bed again, leaned down to you and pressed a soft but unexpected kiss to your lips.

“How did you put it? Thanks for the fuck”, the stranger chuckled, “Goodbye, handsome. Was nice meeting you.”

Thus, you parted like you had met – as strangers, knowing nothing about each other except the way you looked, the way you felt, the way you liked to fuck, under the clear impression you would never get to meet each other ever again.

And then your sister introduced Stephen Strange to you – her colleague from the hospital, the man she was dating and the stranger who had fucked you.

[just-a-strange-boy]

better strangers - part 4

part 1 * part 2 * part 3

Eversince ending your arrangement with Stephen, you've been going through a rough patch. Attempting to avoid him as much as you possibly could, you struggle to let go. An unexpected turn of events convinces you to reconsider. Not sure whether it might change everything or nothing at all, you agree to one last encounter with Stephen...

Pairing: Stephen Strange x ftm!reader

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), mentions of cheating and the endorsement of cheating, ANGST (and a bunch of conflicting feelings), oral sex (ftm receiving), unprotected penetrative sex

A/N: so here we are, the big finale (word count is around 11k) ...and I've had a lot of fun continuing the idea and giving them this ending in particular, especially considering the beginnings of their story were only two prompts I wrote for kinktober. please remember that communication is key, cheating is not the way to go, and feelings are allowed to be complicated.

The weeks following your fallout with Stephen turned out to be disastrous.

You were constantly on edge about everything. There were so many things suddenly starting to irk you and apparently everyone decided to get on your nerves constantly.

While you managed to hold back unsolicited comments at work and people luckily weren't able to see your grumpy face or how you held your head in hands as you talked to them over the phone, it didn't change the fact you were moody and a mess – running on an unhealthy amount of caffeine, cigarettes and plenty of bathroom breaks you spent with bawling your eyes out.

Work was bad, but it didn't quite stop there. Being on your own at home or even hanging around your friends was no better.

You found yourself reminded of Stephen at every little instance, incapable of ignoring his existence and pushing memories aside altogether. Instead you kept checking your phone every so often, wishing for him to just text you. You even caught yourself going home in anticipation, downright hoping he would be around on some days, because at least that would mean you could see him – well, before remembering how things had ended and that you shouldn't be excited at all.

So often, you remembered the things Stephen liked, little phrases he tended to use, his quirks. Most of all how he had been around you and how nice your moments together had been, not just because of the sex. All that stuck around in your head – and there was no use in denying the fact how much you truly missed him.

He didn't deserve to be cried over and yet it was exactly what you did. You couldn't bear the thought of him being all happy and pretending everything was fine, while it wasn't so easy for you – so you tried your hardest to avoid him at any given moment. It worked reasonably well: you always checked in with your sister on whether he was or would be around, and if she confirmed, you thought it best to not come home at all.

Because you didn't know what was worse: just seeing Stephen or seeing him all loving and happy with your sister.

As it happened to be, he seemed to avoid any opportunity of crossing your way as well, whether it was out of respect for you or because of his own pride.

He didn't come around the apartment often anymore. Your sister was downright annoyed how he seemed to never have time for coming for dinner, although he had always loved sharing meals with them.

You just ignored her rambling with a shrug.

You didn't want to think about Stephen Strange ever again, not another single second of your life. But everything revolved around the fact how desperately you missed him. You missed him hard. His presence, his cocky arrogant smiles, his playful teasing. You missed how right it felt to be with him, his loving kisses all over your skin, how keen he had always been to touch every inch of you, how it felt to have him inside of you. His smell, his voice, his... well, everything really.

You desperately tried to convince yourself how much you should not care, because neither did he. But it didn't work. Not in years would it have worked. The situation tormented you, because you cared immensely. Nothing was fine and everything sucked, but at least you didn't have to see him anymore. That was something, right?

Maybe, with time, your thoughts about him and feelings for him would pass, dissolve in the air, and you'd never worry a single moment in your life about that man ever again. Maybe.

Hitting the two month mark after ending the arrangement, your sister broke the sudden news to you. Two months ago you would have been happy to hear as it had been all you had wanted. But now your face fell and you didn't know what to feel when she told you that Stephen had abruptly ended the relationship.

She was understandably devastated, in the same way that you had been about letting him go, and although harvesting little compassion for her, you were still playing the good brother, at least giving her a hug and the consoling words 'He's not worth it then'.

How much of a bastard liar you were. Not just because you had endorsed Stephen cheating on her, with you no less. Not just because you pretended to care when you really had no empathy for her. But especially because what you were saying was a dirty lie.

You hated to admit it, even after all the resentment and anger and disappointment you had gone through, that he was worth it. That's why you had slept with him. That's why you had started to become so obsessed with him, wanted him, maybe even kind of fallen in love with him...

He wasn't easy, sure. He was a cheater and an asshole. You felt more than betrayed by him, his behavior and words having caused you to feel worthless. He had hurt you and you wanted to be way above putting yourself in a position of being hurt again.

But at the end of the day, you still clung onto his memory and longed to have him back, in the way you had him before and even more so in the ways you had never had him.

Silly you. As if that would ever happen.

.

It was a quiet Saturday evening.

You were in your room, sitting at your desk, typing away on your laptop like you so often did, when your phone display lightened up and grabbed your attention. Of course you decided to check it, thinking it might be one of your friends sending you either something important or maybe just a meme supposed to cheer you up.

But you couldn't have possibly been prepared for the disbelief that washed over you when you read the name. You blankly stared at it for a moment, thinking it was your silly mind playing a trick, but after double-checking - it was indeed him.

You had been foolish enough to never delete his number in the first place, not bothering to block it when you should have, and that's exactly how you ended up with his message on your phone, too weak to resist checking it altogether.

And thus, Stephen Strange returned to your life with a very subtle and surprising 'I'm in front of the complex waiting in my car. Will you please come down and see me?'

Your heart sunk. He could have written anything. An apology, a question, a plain approach like 'Hey' – but the message he had chosen to send was so direct you couldn't have possibly ignored it. He was here. He had come to see you.

A whole mess of feelings began surging through you. Confusion, resentment, disbelief, annoyance, though in some way hope was fluttering within you too, a giddy feeling, unmistakable excitement.

You should have ignored him. You should have let him sit and rot in his car, without ever giving him an answer, without ever talking to him ever again, make him swallow the bitter pill that you weren't so easy. That you wouldn't dance after his whistle and come back crawling to him in desperation. That he might never get you back.

You should have let him suffer the consequences of his behavior and continue to live with your own mistakes, in solitary.

But you didn't want to. After all, wasn't this what you had asked for, in a way? You had wanted him to choose you. You had wanted him and he was here now, requesting to talk to you, perhaps willing to make amends.

If you only heard him out, gave him a chance, perhaps it would ensure you the ending you had always desired. Maybe you could talk it out, find a middle ground. Even if you didn't and it was just another opportunity to see Stephen one more time, it might actually be worth it.

The wish of wanting to see him again was stronger than any resentment could have ever been, no matter how stupid it was. Seeing him was what you had to do. What you needed to do.

But you didn't want to seem too eager, deciding to test your luck and let him wait. See if he was willing to stay down in his car for longer than five minutes, without a definite answer whether you would come down or not. At least then you would know if he was truly serious about this.

Saving your document, you eventually shut your laptop. Your heart was beating faster by the second and your nerves were getting the worst of you. Was this actually worth the risk? Was he actually worth it or were you too blinded by your persisting feelings for the man?

You got dressed in another pair of pants and your favorite hoodie. The state of your hair was a mess, but you figured it didn't matter much. It wasn't like you were going on a date or had to look your best to get a point across.

Grabbing your keys, wallet and phone, you crossed the hall, aware you'd be passing your sister watching TV in the living room.

"I'll be out tonight", you spoke to her, "Don't know when I'll be back."

"Have fun", she turned her head and responded. A smile flitted across her face. She probably greeted the thought of you having a good time out, considering she had seen you miserable and mopey the last few weeks – in the same way that she had been, ever since her break-up.

If she only knew.

Slipping into your sneakers, you finally left the apartment, lingering on the stairs for another moment. It wasn't too late to turn back and put an end to this chapter in way that would ensure avoiding another heartbreak. Going down there would put you in a position of possibly being hurt again and were you really able to endure this another time?

You could have thought through every possible outcome of this situation for hours and it still wouldn't have changed the fact you had made your decision – in your head and most definitely in your heart. Taking another deep breath to brace yourself, you left the complex.

Out on the curb, you realized you didn't know what car to look for and checked the street. It didn't help it was fully packed with parked cars and it was dark outside already, save for the few street lamps scarcely illuminating the sidewalk. You pondered, searching the half-dark, guessing which car would fit a man like Stephen Strange.

But as it appeared to be, he must have noticed you leave the house long before. An engine was revved. Headlights further illuminated the sidewalk. A sign for you. You sighed when you noticed the car model. Of course, he drove a flashy car. As if Stephen Strange would have ever settled for something ordinary, something normal. No, he just had to drive a Lamborghini.

You walked up to it, checking the window to make sure it really was Stephen, but there was no way you could have mistaken him for someone else, his face illuminated by the interior lights.

He opened the door to you from the inside almost immediately. "Climb in", the voice you had missed so much eventually invited you in.

It felt odd to even get inside such a pricey car. Probably cost a hundred times your salary, if that was enough – and after all you had gone through, meeting each other again in the bounds of a car like this was not what you had imagined for yourself. But once you had pulled the door close behind you, actually being in the car made no difference to you though.

You were still facing Stephen and this situation alone would have been hard anywhere. Because he was here. Because he wanted to see you and you didn't know what it would mean.

"Thank you for coming", Stephen initiated conversation, cutting the engine again, so it was just the two of you sitting in the half-dark, his form barely illuminated by the streetlights falling into the car, "I was afraid you'd let me sit here and sour. I wasn't sure if I would have waited until the morning. Though I couldn't have blamed you. I would have deserved it. Being ignored by you, I mean."

"Yeah, maybe you would have", you sighed, not daring to even look him in the eye. You couldn't. Not yet. You had a feeling that he wasn't looking at you either. It was just the two of you and on your part you were feeling very small in these enormous leather seats, and a whole lot of tension between you. "But I'm here, am I not?"

"You are", he noted and it was when he spoke your name that convinced you to look at him, able to slightly make out his features and the lines of worry on his face, "Will you believe me when I say that I'm sorry?"

"That depends", you responded, one single thought popping into your head and bouncing back and forth: Forgive him and everything will be alright. But that would have been too easy. Things were never easy. You had to hear him out and decide then.

"If you tell me what exactly you're sorry for, I'll give it a try."

"For treating you the way I did. I handled it all wrong, and regret the way things happened... That I decided to keep a relationship I didn't really want, that I was so self-absorbed and never really...", he paused, bracing himself for the next words with a deep breath, admitting to his own faults, "I never really thought much about how you'd feel. As long as we were having sex, I didn't worry or think about anything else much, not until it was too late anyways. I am sorry for being so blind. I should have seen it meant more to you and knowing that, I should have never treated you the way I did."

"Did it ever mean anything to you? Like... was it ever more than just sex to you? At any point?"

It was perhaps the question that had tormented you the most, whether it had been as meaningless as you'd thought, just a bit of fooling around, or... more. It might not make any difference now or mend what had been broken. But you needed to know.

"In the beginning it was really just sex, that's why we made that arrangement, didn't we? We kept rolling with it, because... it just worked between us", Stephen began. You didn't really know what to expect to hear next, nor were you really decided about what you wanted to hear.

But as long as he'd be honest with you, you supposed you were willing to accept whatever he said.

"There was something special about you. I knew the first time I met you. And the second time, when I recognized you, realizing that you were my stranger... It changed everything", he went on. You couldn't help but think this was the first time he was being genuinely honest with you, allowing you to see deeper into the complex and usually closed-off man he was.

Though you wished he would have done that, well, two months ago, it was still better than never.

After hearing it all, perhaps then you could make up your mind whether it was too late or if there was perhaps still hope.

"I tried not to think about it so much. But then I got to know you better and I learned that you were kind, smart, adorably shy, a great cook... You had me hooked on your smile and tempted me with...just being you. It got harder and harder to stay away from you, to ignore the way my whole being was craving to be with you again. I could have gotten laid anywhere, but I didn't want to. I just lusted for you. There wasn't anyone else. Sure, your sister and that only for convenience. But it was you that I... you must think I'm so ridiculous, because I distanced myself from you – but it was you that I really desired."

"You could have. Had me. But when I told you about that, you dismissed me. Made me believe having the feelings was silly. You said that I wouldn't understand and you were right... I don't really get you. You seemed so indifferent and you pushed me away and yet you're here. I... I still don't get it."

"It's complicated... I avoid relationships for a good reason. I fuck up, because I'm clueless when it comes to them. Caring for another person... I think it overwhelms me", he admitted.

Could have fooled you. On a surface level he usually never displayed any kind of insecurity or doubt, with his level of confidence in himself, his carelessness and slightly more arrogant attitude. Stephen had never appeared like a man keen on big emotions. Honestly admitting to his own faults or sharing his worries, like he did with you right now, must have been a rarity.

"I dismissed you, because... because I didn't know what to do. I was scared of the thought to have you falling for me and not being able to live up to that. I realized a lot of things then, most of all that whatever we had was going to change...", Stephen went on.

"I felt like I was using you all of the sudden, which was never my intention. I always wanted it to be two-sided and consensual, but I didn't expect you to develop feelings. I dreaded the thought of hurting you. Which of course doesn't mean anything now, because I did hurt you and I can't take that back."

“You did hurt me”, you could only admit, “But I reckon that developing feelings for you was my own issue and certainly not your fault. I figured you had none for me and that's why you pushed me away. It sucked having to accept this was going to be how things would end. Now you're here though and I don't... I don't know how to process this.”

“I'm here because I am sorry. I wanted you to know I regret how things ended.”

"Is that also the reason why you broke up with her?”, the question blurted out of you.

"It's what I should have done in the first place. Before chasing after you. But I didn't care, as long as I got what I wanted. I really didn't care up to the point you addressed it, because it was never appeared as an issue to me until then...", Stephen mused, admitting to his own blindness. He hadn't known better and while that wasn't any kind of excuse, you weren't going to push him away. Not when he was already here for you.

“When you asked me why I kept staying with her... I don't know. I did like her, desire her, all that, it was good to show off a pretty girl on my arm, especially around the hospital. But I could have never loved her. It wasn't really fair to her either, huh? Pretending I was a great boyfriend while fucking around with you. After you told me to leave you alone... it wounded my ego quite a bit. But I think I needed that to make me reconsider things. I realized I'd much rather miss her than you. And now that I have broken up with her, I don't miss her much. All this time though, I've missed you."

A very pregnant pause followed.

You didn't know what to say, because that was a confession you hadn't quite expected. You understood what he was implying, but how much could you let his words truly mean to you? Could you let him wrap you around his finger like he hadn't hurt you, downright broken your heart? Because it would have been so easy for him to get you back like that, now that it suited him, now that he suddenly seemed to want you in this way.

But if you just gave him this, the benefit of doubt, the chance to prove himself to you... perhaps he would really live up to all he said. You wanted him to mean it. You wanted him so desperately. Your heart clenched as you looked at him, street lights barely revealing all of the features you had traced and kissed and adored all the same.

He spoke your name, pulling you out of your thoughts again. "I'm really sorry. It's stupid that I'm only realizing this now when I should have known better from the get go. You must think I'm such a asshole. And you wouldn't be wrong. I am. But I'm still hoping... even if it's stupid to hope you'll..."

"Forgive you?", you interrupted his rambling.

"Yeah. Yes, that."

"I don't know, Stephen. I don't know if I should."

"And I'd understand. Lord, I understand."

"I missed you too", you admitted to him then, a brash and quick confession, "And I've hated it. I hated you. I hated myself for not being able to stop wanting you. God help me. I've wanted you the first time you stepped into that hotel room. I've wanted you every other time you came to our apartment. And even now, I still want you. But I don't know if that's good enough. Or good at all. But... perhaps it would be worth figuring it out.”

“I know it's so much to ask for, to let me be in your life again just like that. You don't have to make your decision now. But even if you can never bring yourself to forgive me or allow yourself to want me... I wanted to make one last request”, he was very forward, like Stephen always used to be, “Will you come home with me today? Spend the night together?”

Your heart leaped wildly within the confines your chest – though you found yourself immediately considering what he was asking for. You didn't know whether he was requesting sex, just having you one last time, no matter how things would turn out. What you did know was that the idea wasn't offending nor repelling you.

"What will that entail?", you inquired anyways.

"Whatever you feel like.” A vague answer.

You decided to take the chance. "Food? I'm kind of hungry."

"Sure”, he agreed, “I could grab a bite. Haven't really been able to stomach anything before getting here."

"Am I gonna get an apartment tour?", was your second request, probably not what he had expected.

Yet he agreed with a shrug. "Sure, if you'd like. It's not that interesting though.”

“Well, you'd at least need to show me the bedroom”, you responded, deciding now was not the time to play coy. If that was your last chance at ever being intimate with Stephen, you were not going to pass on the chance, “That is, if you would you want to have sex?"

You weren't surprised he wasn't denying either. “Oh please, is that really a question you need to ask?” His answer put a smile to your lips.

“Good, because I haven't gotten any in weeks and I'm not sure I'll do well resisting you anyways”, you said then, unashamed to admit to your own truth. Maybe having sex would strangely resolve things you were too afraid to sort out right now.

“Likewise”, he hummed, reaching over to your side to search for your hand in the dark of the car, grasping it firmly in his. “There has never really been a moment I haven't wanted you. I'll have you if you'll have me. Even if it's just this once.”

"Stephen...", you murmured and since you were already looking at each other, it was an easy and quick decision. You leaned over the middle console, closing the distance between the two of you, and let your lips brush over his, the softest touch. It allowed you to embrace the idea this was actually happening. The two of you reunited. Kissing in Stephen's car, between you a quiet promise of so much more than you had initially bargained for.

It was so sweet. He didn't urge you on, responding with a gentle press of lips against yours, closing his hand around yours a little tighter. It was so innocent it made your heart flutter. During all the time you were allowed to have with him for the rest of today, perhaps it was fair to push aside all that had happened and just be in the moment, no matter what the future would entail.

"I wanna go home with you", you muttered against his lips then, before kissing him another time, never wanting a gap to persist between the two of you ever again. You felt him squeeze your hand in return, an assurance that he was feeling quite the same way: not ready to let you go anytime soon.

"Then let's get something to eat. My fridge is disastrously empty", he admitted to you after breaking apart. Where worry had been on his brow just minutes ago, you could now see the implications of a smile in the half-dark.

"No fancy restaurants though. I look a mess", you sighed, causing him to laugh.

"Don't worry. I'm more in the mood for a burger, some fries. Maybe a milkshake."

"Sounds perfect.” You paid him an honest smile, watching him turn towards the steering wheel and get ready to get started. “You're gonna drive this beast respecting all speed limits, yes?"

You eyed Stephen curiously as he revved up the engine again, the droning sound filling the relatively quiet street. You shortly wondered whether your sister would recognize the probably familiar and distinct sound of this car, but shook your head and quickly reminded yourself to stay in the moment. Now was not the time to think about your sister.

The Lambo's display lit up, grabbing your attention. "Okay, very fancy."

"Gonna drive by the rules, I promise", he agreed, backing out of the parking space and pulling the car onto the street. It looked so practiced. You couldn't have driven a car if your life depended on it, let alone this beast, but Stephen had perfected the skill of handling it.

He turned out to be a rapid driver (most definitely one that had gotten ticketed for speeding before), but overall seemed to stick to his word and tried to hold the speed limit, casually checking on you with a glance to his right. Checking if you were okay. Or, you imagined, checking if you were actually there.

You noticed he was steering the car into the drive-through of a fast food chain.

Even just sitting there, watching him drive, made you suddenly very aware of the fact that he was going to take you to his apartment, a place you had never been. You didn't even have a single clue where he lived, but sure were going to find out.

It was a little odd, wasn't it? That you had grabbed the opportunity by the neck so rapidly. Was it making you seem desperate to him? Or was he thinking about how weirdly unusual this situation was as well?

"Real fancy for a date", you hummed, but couldn't ignore how damn content you felt anyways.

"You can get a fancy dinner some other time, if you'd want", Stephen spoke, the clear implication of another actual date on his mind, though not allowing the pressure of needing you to agree to persist, "What do you wanna get?"

"Oh, a Classic Cheeseburger, large fries, and probably a strawberry milkshake, if they have that."

"Will do."

You patiently waited in the passenger's seat, watching him with patience as he ordered your food, picked it up from the drive-through window, and tipped the server rather graciously.

He carefully handed you the baggy and drinks. "If you spill, you owe me."

You chuckled at the notion, only guessing what he had in mind for owing him – probably something sexual, of course – and let him continue to drive in peace, noticing how he was heading towards a more pricey part of New York. Of course, he owned an apartment here. With a salary that was probably five digits, driving an expensive and flashy car, what else should you have expected?

There was a neat little car park below the building complex, where Stephen ended up parking. It was probably smart to have a designated spot like that, far-off from the public eye.

You were greeting the idea too, especially because people passing by, seeing someone like the renowned Doctor Stephen Strange going home with someone like you, would be no bother like this. Luckily, no neighbors in sight, you could head up the stairwell entirely unnoticed, just you and him and your food.

He lead the way and invited you into his apartment, and to be fair, you wouldn't have expected anything else from Stephen in means of decor either – sleek, expensive looking, straight out of a catalog honestly. He had so much space, which he probably didn't even need, and everything was just so... huge, especially the large windowpanes, allowing you to catch an impressive glimpse over New York.

It was a great view – still, you found your eyes rather tracking back to Stephen instead.

"Do you want dinner or the apartment tour first?", he asked, lingering, watching you, waiting.

"Food first. Always", you insisted. And even though it was only fast food, eaten out of the bag, slapped together burgers, greasy and soggy fries, two very sugary milkshakes, it suited you just fine.

You made a little bit of light conversation – during all the time your arrangement had been going, there had always been more sex than words involved. You had rarely simply sat together and talked. Maybe that's why this situation felt so substantially different to you.

You learned that Stephen mostly lived from take-out, wasn't very keen on cooking for himself, which didn't mean he couldn't – he just chose not to. As he was at the hospital most of the time anyways, he had gotten so used to purchasing meals elsewhere, mostly the hospital cafeteria and nearby restaurants. And well, for a fair amount of time, you'd been feeding him through by proxy.

He did give you a full tour of the apartment afterwards, as promised, all the way from the living room (where you had eaten), to the kitchen space (which you adored since it looked so perfect for cooking big meals), the bathroom (which literally had a shower you could sit in), a small study (a room that truly felt like Stephen's, displaying he was an avid collector of music records) and at last, the bedroom adjacent to it.

He once again admitted to loving your food, especially baked goodies – because he did have a sweet tooth, which was weirdly adorable to acknowledge. The confession alone made you want to cook and bake for him, as often and as much as he liked.

Some other day maybe.

Was it coincidental that he had chosen to show you this room last? You had requested him to show it to you after all, hadn't you? Was it time for that already? Maybe. Maybe not.

You could have asked him to simply take you back to the living room to talk some more and he probably would have been amenable, not wanting to ruin his chances with you. But once you found yourself standing in the middle of Stephen Strange's bedroom, looking at him and remembering how much you had been missing him the last months, how much it had hurt to let him go, how awful it had been to hear him dismiss you... how could you have not taken this opportunity?

Even if today was going to be the last time you ever did this, it would be all worth it.

Daring yourself to be bold – because he certainly wasn't being the bold one now, even though he had always liked taking the risks – you crossed the remaining distance between you two and wrapped your arms around his waist, craving to be embraced, hoping that he would return it with the same affection.

And he did, pulling you closer into him.

You tucked your head under his chin, letting it rest on his chest. In return, you felt him bury his face in your hair as he rested his head atop yours. And then he just held you, wrapped in his arms, one hand securely placed on your nape, the other on your midriff. You were melting into one another, not in the sexual way you were used to, but in this comforting manner. It was innocent. It made you feel whole.

There was no rush. No need to force anything. No point you had to get to.

"Smell so good", you hummed into his chest.

"Oh yeah?", he sounded amused.

"Mhh, I missed it", you admitted, "To be so close. I know I already said it, but I really did miss you a lot, Stephen."

You could hear him chuckle softly before he spoke your name, easing his grip around you as you stirred to look up at him again.

He was so handsome. All of his chiseled features, those high cheekbones, the prominent jawline, the curved lips turned into a smile. You loved the way his face always brightened up when he was at ease, lines of age visible but not overtaking. His eyes glistened as he looked down at you.

It was a little like the first time you had ever met – in mere minutes he had you mesmerized.

His looks had been impressive then, you still remembered the anticipation, not knowing what would happen, not knowing what he would do to you. You were in awe of his looks even now. How could you not be? There was anticipation too, especially as you noticed his tongue dart forward between his lips, the subtle downward glance to yours. Lord, the tension was thick.

This time you knew exactly what was going to happen.

Stephen leaned into you and you simply closed your eyes, welcoming whatever he decided to give.

His breath was ghosting over your face for a short moment, noses awkwardly bumping against each other, which made you smile. He wasn't intentionally winding you up, though it did cause even more tension to settle between you two. Your heart fluttered heavily and you breathed out a sigh when you felt his mouth brush over yours again, the whisper of a kiss, a gentle exploration. Innocent, intimate. Raw, honest.

It made you want to believe he meant it all.

He sank his lips onto yours more firmly then and you were perfectly pliant, greeting his kiss with a smile, parting your lips for him to get a taste. Picking up on your little signal, Stephen's hold on you tightened again as he claimed more of your mouth, swiping his tongue across your bottom lip. In return you opened your mouth further to him, trying to catch his lip between your teeth, grazing them over the tender flesh.

It made Stephen chuckle, your little attempt to playfully bite him and in some fortunate, though unexpected way urged him to deepen the kiss, passionately smashing your mouths together then. As if he were starving, he devoured you bit by bit, sliding his tongue against yours, encircling it, gentle strokes as he explored all of your mouth – and it was good, so fucking good that it had you cling onto his broad form, desiring him to give you more. Because you needed. Badly.

If he slipped away now, you weren't sure you'd survive. Neither would he though. Not by the way he was kissing you like he needed this more than oxygen, more than anything.

You both had to catch a deep breath somewhere in between kisses and so high on the ecstasy of just being able to have Stephen again, like this, you broke out into a chuckle, soon infecting the other man as well, once again revealing he looked so damn handsome when he laughed.

Stephen rose one hand to cup your cheek, caressing it gently, and you were grinning hard at him, being so affectionate. "Let me take care of you", he said, his gaze intense as it burned into you, "I wanna be good to you. I wanna prove to you that I meant everything I said earlier. I want you to know that I'm serious. If you let me."

"Yes", you agreed, nodding at him as his fingers gently trailed down your jawline, ever so slightly tilting your chin, not wanting you to avert your gaze again, "I want that too. I want you too."

You wouldn't, couldn't stop smiling and allowed him to pull you in another kiss, your mouths colliding once again, a whole wave of passion rolling over you.

He didn't pull you much closer, giving you just the perfect room to get your hands on his skin, sliding them under the sweater he was wearing. They landed on his waist first, though you were eager to let them trail further towards his stomach, the hard muscle tensing where you placed them flat against it.

He was so warm.

Willing to touch more of him, your hands skirted up the plane of his abdomen, seeking out his defined chest next. How did Stephen Strange have the audacity to be so damn hot, figuratively and literally?

Your brain short-circuited at the sudden moan that slipped past his lips, right into your kiss. There wasn't a more erotic, heavenly sound you could have imagined at the moment.

You craved to hear some more of it.

"Missed your touch so much", he groaned between open-mouthed kisses, insistent on putting his hands on you as well. You were forced to stay apart for a moment, eagerly trying to wrestle the sweater over his head – because while he looked good in any clothing, you preferred him even more without it.

You had to get a good look of him later, because before you had the chance to, he was keen on prying your hoodie off you, returning to the kiss with the same eagerness, chest to chest, heart to heart.

His hands on you were curious, mapping you out, from your shoulders to your arms, across the plane of your back, along the slight dip of your hips. Eventually he moved them to rest on the swell of your ass, squeezing the soft flesh lightly. "Hold onto me", he muttered, urging you to wrap your arms around his neck, clutching onto him as he pulled you up. You had most definitely underestimated his strength as he heaved you upwards, causing you to hop into his arms, legs coming round his midsection as he held you securely, hands placed under your behind.

It was fucking sexy, the way he didn't struggle to hold you in his arms, hungrily claiming more of your mouth, before beginning to walk through the room all while carrying you. You could have let him hold you and make out with you like this for ages, but were not disappointed in the slightest either as he moved towards the bed and sank you down again, toppling over with you.

Another shared laugh slipped in between kisses, your nose bumping his, the comfortable weight of his body pressing you to the bed. Warm excitement rippled through all of your being as he rolled his hips into yours. You tried to pull him closer, hands pawing at his back, feeling the hard warm muscle under you.

He was so responsive to your touches, small groans passing his lips when you dug your fingers a little harder into his skin, the needy buck of his hip as you wound your hand into his hair and gave it a firm tug.

He was aching for you, just like you were aching for him.

God, how you had missed him – his plush lips plundering yours, his taste, his smell, his warmth, his noises, the feeling of his body on top of yours. How he failed to be subtle in the slightest, the insatiable man that he was, grinding hard into you, somewhere between the states of wanting to give and needing to take.

You broke the kiss. "I don't wanna wait any longer today. I need you. Wanna feel you inside. Please, Stephen."

His ocean blue eyes darkened with lust as they flicked across your face again, a slight smirk crawled onto his lips. Of course, he enjoyed having you begging without even needing to do much for it. But his tone wasn't quite as dark with lust as he responded. It was gentle. "Anything you want", he hummed and bent to kiss the tip of your nose, the small display of affection making your heart clench. It made you want him even more.

"Can we do it slow today?", you requested, brushing through the hair on his nape, your other hand resting on his hip, "Not that I mind much however we have sex, I just think... I need to take it slow today."

"Yeah, sure", Stephen responded, only reluctantly pulling out of your hold to sit back up on his knees. His large hands quickly found their way to your thighs at first, followed by a gentle squeeze, fingers skirting along your pelvis up to the waistband of your pants, "Can I get this off you?"

"Definitely", you said eagerly, "If you strip as well."

"Your wish is my command." He chuckled softly, hooking his fingers underneath the waistband and freeing you from the last restraints, carefully shuffling your clothing down your hips as you helped him by wiggling and shifting your hips a bit.

"Could get used to this", you grinned back at him, feeling your face heat up while slowly revealing your naked form to him. Stephen had always managed to make you blush, that was no secret, but you usually weren't feeling so shy around him. Maybe it was all that time you hadn't been together or the fact that today was so different.

"I like undressing you. And if you're asking nicely for me to strip, who am I to refuse?", Stephen admitted, placing your bottoms aside, before his hands returned to your body, skirting up the length of your legs, rubbing small circles into the shins, the cap of your knee, the insides of your thighs, tickling you lightly, but stopping before going any further. God forbid, even his ministrations made you giggle – and helped you relax more, all naked in his presence.

"The sight has always been with me. From the first time on", he added.

"You're one to talk", you said, rolling your eyes at him, as if he weren't the one so annoyingly handsome and hard to forget. "Get out of your clothes, please?"

He gave you a knowing smirk, withdrawing his hands to reach for his belt buckle, seemingly in no rush to undo it, though ending up making quick work of his pants as a whole, shedding his underwear as well. It was a lovely sight, having him all naked.

If there was one thing to know about Stephen Strange, it was that he was rarely shy about the way he looked and that he took good care of himself that caused him to have a certain pride. His muscular thighs and long legs a delicious view to behold, though your eyes were a lot more drawn to the half-hard length resting between them.

"Pleased?", Stephen asked, returning to the bed and his designated spot between your legs.

"Very", you grinned, "Come give me a kiss, you hot bastard."

"Where would you liked to be kissed?", he responded with the same cunning grin, but not waiting for you to answer, bowing down low to press a kiss to your navel.

You had wanted him to press a kiss to your lips, but were not complaining as you watched him move on in adoration, his mouth peppering kisses all over your skin, fingers making their way along your thighs, keen on exploring the tender flesh and eventually reaching the apex of them.

A delicate gasp left your lips, small, barely audible. Your eyes fluttered shut, you jolted slightly at the feel of him alone. The skilled doctor's fingers never failed to awaken all kinds of feelings within you – most definitely a whole lot of arousal, hot excitement flashing inside your core as he brushed gently brushed through your folds, up to your little t-dick, quickly hardening at the attention.

"More, Stephen. Please", you huffed out and he did not disappoint, his breath trailing along the fine wisps of hair down to your crotch, before reaching your enlarged nub, ever so carefully sucking it between his lips. The hot and warm mouth on you made you nothing but ecstatic, incapable of believing your luck in this moment, and you dug your fingers a little harder into his scalp. You needed him to go on or you might just lose your mind.

Stephen was devoted to giving you pleasure in any kind, that you had known. He was simply insatiable as a lover, relentless, rough when he wanted to be, thorough and sweet when you asked him to. And at least for today, he was just yours.

Like so often before, you simply fell apart under Stephen. He was sucking on you, occasionally placing long broad licks all over you, little flicks around you that drove you crazy. His tongue worked as quick as efficient – and so did his fingers.

With his head buried between your legs, he kept you spread open, the thick pad of his thumb gently circling your hole, growing wet and needy at his ongoing teasing by the second. Enough to make you mad with lust, not quite enough to give you the pleasure you desired.

"Please, Stephen... your fingers... I need...", the words slipped out of your mouth, an incoherent babble, barely a request, but you didn't need to tell him twice.

Stephen was more of a dominant type, while you found it naturally easier to submit. But that didn't change the fact you knew exactly what you desired and how to get it, often enough having put your foot down and demanding he give into your pleas without a word of refusal. Sometimes he took and something he gave. Sometimes both at once.

Stephen's mouth was godly, his hands magic. He worked two fingers into you so easily, slender and long, sliding deep into your wetness, where you craved to feel him.

You arched into his touch, taking him to the knuckle, feeling him brush past the spot oh-so-sweet as he curled them inside of you, and the warm embrace his mouth had on your small cock, ever changing between hard sucks and skilled swipes of his tongue.

"Fuck, Stephen... you're driving me crazy", you whimpered, the combined suction on your most sensitive part and his fingers working over the perfect spot enough to make your thighs tremble already, pleasure building up too quickly.

It had been so long. Masturbation had never been as efficient, never would have been able to make yourself feel the way that Stephen accomplished, the thought of him and not being able to truly have him had tormented you anyways. But now... now you had it all.

All of Stephen, in his bed at his apartment. His mouth on you and his fingers deep within you. All of his attention on you, all of his affection for you, all of him belonging to you and all of you belonging to him. For as long as you'd decide to do this.

If you decided to forgive him, then it wouldn't only have to be tonight. There would be more chances, more opportunity, more of him and more of you together.

It didn't matter much that you had asked him to go slow, didn't matter his pace wasn't rushed at all, didn't matter he was going gently at it – there was something about him eating you out and fingering you at the same time managing to drive you to the edge all to quickly.

Overwhelmed with pleasure you were shaking, legs twitching, incapable of holding still, edging you further and further while you were so convinced it wasn't even possible to drag this out any further, tugging on his hair, mindlessly bucking your hips into him, chasing your own orgasm.

"You're gonna... gonna make me cum", you panted, squeezing your eyes shut, your desperate moans filling the room, "Gonna cum, Stephen... fuck, feels so good, feels so fucking good."

Your words continued to urge him on and Stephen did it perfectly, changing nothing, hitting the right spot with his fingers and circling your dick with his tongue in the way that made you absolutely feral. It was more than enough to pull you over the edge, all that tension coiling in your core suddenly releasing, pulsating and clenching around his fingers, pleasure surging through you and consuming all of you.

It was heavenly. Your mind went full blank, especially as he wouldn't stop lapping at you, causing you to squeeze your thighs shut, trapping him between them, hopefully not suffocating, still firmly grasping his hair. He made you squeal and squirm and lose yourself to complete ecstasy, until all of it ebbed away and you went entirely lax.

Only then did Stephen pull back, pressing a few more kisses to your thighs, chuckling lightly into your skin, clearly enjoying himself.

"Gorgeous", he hummed, pulling himself back up your body. You could feel his face close to yours by the warmth breath tickling your jaw. But good lord, you weren't sure how to function properly anymore, barely able to look at him, definitely not able to say something that would make sense.

You basked in this moment though, Stephen's warm body carefully resting half-atop you as he caressed your body all too gently, placing a kiss to your cheek.

"Are you doing okay, baby?" The term of endearment struck something deep within you, the smile on your lips must have looked so silly and droopy.

"You've officially murdered me", you huffed, hands searching something to hold onto and apparently finding his shoulders, "I'm literally pudding."

"You're ridiculous", Stephen chuckled softly, "I love to see you come apart for me."

You cracked one eye open, getting a glimpse of him looking at you rather fondly. His hard features had all softened while he observed you, his own cheeks a little heated, lips swollen red from his ministrations, but nevertheless entirely kissable.

"You're a menace", was your response and leaning into him, you claimed his mouth in another kiss. While you were still feeling the after effects of that mind-blowing orgasm, you weren't tired enough to stop wanting more of him.

He was still aroused, so you could feel, his hardness clearly poking your thighs. Not so subtly acknowledging this, you grinned, letting your hands skirt over the broad plane of his back, down to his firm ass, pressing upwards into him.

Stephen got the drift immediately, lips curling into a smile as well, and he began grinding into you again, even just the slightest friction of his cock sliding against you making him groan so sweetly.

You sucked his bottom lip between your teeth, before slightly pulling back to take a good look at him. Eyes blown dark with lust, cheeks red, small breaths passing between his lips, Stephen seemed positively flustered, his hair a damn right mess after his endeavors between your legs.

"I want you", you whispered to him, canting your hips into each movement of his, meeting his erection times and times again, "I want you so much."

"If you'd only know", he hummed, holding his body up with strong arms as he towered over you. A smile passed his lips. He spoke your name, bowing his head to gently rest your foreheads together. "You drive me crazy. I want to have you so bad", he admitted, voice low and smooth and sinfully hot. "Are you sure you can go again?"

"Yeah", you responded, digging your fingers into the firm muscle of his ass, sliding your bodies closer together, "And I'm afraid you might burst if I make you wait any longer."

"Have some faith in my self-control, will you?", he chuckled right back at you. It might have been a while, but Stephen was usually keen on drawing out the moment of being inside of you, lasting a fair amount of time. And it was what you had asked for anyways – slow and gentle, feel all of him, for as long as you could, right until the moment he'd come inside of you.

"I do", was all you said, stopping the movement of his hips as you reached between your bodies, both flush with heat, grabbing hold of his fully hardened length, throbbing in your hand with the silent request of being allowed to fill you.

You made sure to look at Stephen, keep his gaze, notice how he was holding his breath as you slid the tip of his cock over your own dick and then between your wet folds, guiding him to your entrance.

He let out a downright desperate little moan as you let him bury himself inside of you, carefully sliding into your wetness until he was to the hilt, allowing the moment to just be. You two just existed like this for a while, conjoined, him inside of you, feeling all, having all of each other, after going so long with missing this.

You locked your legs around him, keeping him in place, and brought your hands up to cup his face, smiling as you noticed the glimmer in his eyes. "Make love to me?", you requested.

Love. Whatever that entailed, whatever it meant to the two of you, whether it even was ever going to be that... During all your encounters, even the slow ones, it had always been just sex.

You had never thought anything else of it, not until it became a lot more meaningful sex, to you at least. But this, the way that Stephen was capable of making you feel, was so much more.

There was heart and soul and adoration and also lust in any of his movements, the way he checked on you between losing himself to pleasure occasionally.

He looked so handsome though, his eyes closed, brows a little furrowed as he concentrated on the sensations, lips parted, huffs of air and low groans leaving his throat. He felt perfect, like he had always done. His thrusts were slow, but nonetheless passionate, eager to fill all of you, drawing out the long strokes that drove you crazy.

"Stephen, you're so good. Feel so good", you whimpered, holding him close by his nape, needing him closer still.

"You do too, baby. So good", he murmured, brushing your mouths together again, tongue lazily tangling with yours as he kept this insanely good rhythm upright.

How did he always manage to make you feel this way, whole and complete? Every worry and sorrow brushed away, belonging to him in a way you had never belonged to anyone else.

You didn't want to belong to anyone else ever, just Stephen.

"You take my cock so well, babe", he muttered against your lips, sheathing himself within you again and again. You clenched around him, feeling the pulsating cock, a sensation you had hated to miss all that time, an action that made him feral.

"Fuck, I wanna fill you up so bad", he groaned, pulling out and sinking back in, with the same restraint, the same composure, keen on making this as slow as you had asked for, not giving into the need to fuck you harder.

"Missed you, Stephen", you whined, arms wrapped around him, hands splayed against his back, needing to pull him closer still, tilting your hips upwards in response to take him deeper, overwhelmed with a whole bunch of emotion as your body kept burning with pleasure, "Don't wanna miss you ever again."

His head sank into the crook of your neck, warm mouth brushing against your skin, rolling his hips into yours again. He only managed to speak words mangled with groans.

"Want you to be mine", you heard him say, a declaration spoken in the heat of the moment, but you couldn't help but feel as if he was meaning the truth. God, how badly you wanted to be his.

"M'yours", you whimpered right back at him, causing him to quicken his thrusts a little, though he was clearly not letting himself be overruled by passion. You sure were not going to last at this point, your whole core was throbbing and you were aching to cum, feel him cum inside of you as well.

"All yours, Stephen", you hummed again, sliding a hand between your bodies, searching for your enlarged t-dick, circling it with your fingers, adding to the pleasure.

"Gonna cum for me again, baby?", he growled, lips finding your pulse point, suckling on your neck as he kept rocking into you, every movement precise and deep.

"Oh god, yes", you moaned, working your hand faster as you felt your thighs trembling again, another upcoming orgasm consuming you as your thoughts seemed to entirely deconstruct.

You were coming apart, one of your hands searching to tug on his hair, pulling his head back up and crushing your mouths together, soon no more than a sloppy kiss shared between the two of you. Everything was so overwhelming, but there was an undoubted ease when you realized that you had Stephen. You had him right here, with you.

"I got you", he muttered in between kisses, the ongoing roll of his hips, his cock hitting these deep pleasure spots, causing you to reach your end. Bliss was washing over you. Stephen was all you could think about, all you could feel. Warmth and satisfaction burst through you in waves, momentary tension passed and you clung to him, still sliding into you, every other thrust of his drawing out more moans and sweet noises out of you.

"You're so gorgeous", he went on praising you, "My darling. I'm gonna cum. You want me to fill you up, yeah?"

You only whimpered, your words barely recognizable. "Y-yeah... come inside of me, please", you longed to feel him and he didn't disappoint. Rutting out his own pleasure, driving himself to the point of completion, he finished deep within you, coming so hard you could feel the ripple of his orgasm surge through his body, his warm cum spilling into you, his sweet and low groans ringing in your ears, mixed with the repetitive praise of your name and one little word - mine.

He called you his alone and like this, claiming your body completely, it was hard to deny how badly you wanted this to be the truth. You longed to be his, clinging onto his form as you kept him deep inside of you, embracing him. He was breathing so heavily you could feel it, brushing over your skin where his head had slumped against your shoulder.

Burying your nose in his hair, you wallowed in the moment and continued to hold him close.

You felt warm, whole. Stephen smelled so good and a little bit like home, your heart aching at the thought how you had missed it and most of all why you had to miss it in the first place.

Getting emotional after sex was nothing seldom, but you hadn't expected to feel your anxiety spike as well. A sudden rush of thoughts came up, reminding you of all the anguish and the pain of thinking you might never have this again, that he didn't want you the way you wanted him, that he would never choose you.

What if it didn't mean anything? What if Stephen was not serious about all this and just needed a way back to you, because he desired to have sex with you without wanting something more? What if this was all there was gonna be?

You couldn't bear the thought.

However, his words and tenderness and apology and his obvious need to have you again... all this gave you hope too. In the same desperate way you craved to have him physically, you were aching to just be with Stephen and want it all, with him. Right now, there wasn't anything you wanted more.

"We're having the sex of a lifetime and yet it's not enough to make you stop thinking", the rumble of his voice reached your ear. He rose his head to look at you, obvious worry on his brow, noticing that something was off.

"What's going on?"

"M'just processing all that's happened today", you admitted, reaching out to brush back some unruly hair that had fallen into his forehead, "And what it means for us."

"I don't need to ask what you want it to mean, do I?", Stephen hummed.

"Am I silly for hoping we have a chance?", you asked, vulnerability seeping through every fiber of your body, and your heart ached when Stephen paid you the most loving and gentle smile in return.

"Silly? Sometimes, yeah. But not for having these hopes", he assured you, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose, "I'm not quite sure what this... what we could be. What will happen with us. But I would not have asked you to forgive me, or to come here with me, if I didn't want you back."

"I just... I don't want it to be just sex. You understand that?" You wanted to smile back at him, but your head was not going to let you rest, until you had definite assurance. Maybe it would have been fairer to enjoy the moment and talk about this the morning after... but you were not going to be able to sleep soundly and be content without knowing. You had to be sure.

"Yes", Stephen acknowledged with a nod, "I'm not a total idiot, you know?"

"Could have fooled me." Your lips did quirk into a smile then. "Do you think... that maybe you could want more than just the sex?"

"Mmh", he hummed, his eyes flicking over your face as he mustered your expression, his gaze crossing yours again, "Don't get me wrong. I really love having sex with you and I have been desperate to feel you again. But I can only repeat myself. I want all of you. I think this strongly implies wanting more."

"Okay, when did you turn into a romantic?"

"It will pass, don't worry", Stephen chuckled, "Tomorrow I'll be back to my asshole, arrogant self. Even then... please know that I will still want you all the same. But it's not gonna be a walk in the park. You know me.”

"I actually don't know you all that well", you mentioned, cupping his cheek, softly caressing it, "I've only gotten small glimpses of who you really are. I think today was the closest I've ever gotten to seeing the real you and I'd love to see more of it."

"What if you won't like it? Having sex with me was the easy part. Really knowing me... I'm gonna fuck up. I have fucked up already, haven't I? You do understand I'm definitely not beyond making mistakes, I am clueless, and I wouldn't blame you... I don't want you to..."

"Just do better then", you advised him, very firmly, “And we'll work it out?”

"You're seriously giving me a chance?"

"No, I'm just saying", you began, rolling your eyes at him, his complete denseness, the momentary surprise and consideration on his face, "Idiot. Of course I'm giving you a chance. I don't want this to be the last time. And you know how I feel about you.”

"This evening turned out in both our favors then", Stephen responded and you gladly obliged to him pressing another kiss to your lips, causing him to shift slightly on top of you. The slight movement made you wince, reminding you he was still sheathed inside of you and you were entirely oversensitive at this point.

"Yeah, right... let's get untangled, before you get even more uncomfortable", he decided then, noticing your discomfort and withdrawing from you, "Would you like a shower?"

He looked about as wonderful as ever. Skin glistening, muscles straining, so beautifully dotted with his moles, hair disheveled, eyes fixated on you as he sat up on the bed. There was these ease to him now too, his demeanor having shifted after pulling down the walls he had put up around himself. For you.

"God yes", you immediately agreed, a little sweaty and absolutely sticky. You felt debauched, filthy in the way you loved it, sensing his seed trickling out of you. It did however cause you to rather awkwardly press your legs together as you pushed yourself upwards.

Stephen extended a hand, wordlessly aiding you in getting out of bed, pulling you into his strong arms, apparently not quite ready to take his hands off you. He was radiating with some sort of glee which you had never seen on him before. Maybe he was content. Maybe he was genuinely happy. And honestly, you loved to see it on him.

"You wanna watch a movie afterwards?", he inquired, both of you in your naked entirety as you staggered over to the bathroom.

"I'm probably gonna fall asleep anyways", you had to admit, beginning to realize how desperately your body was craving some rest now. You'd gone through a whole roller coaster of emotions today and having mind-blowing sex had been the cherry on top. However, falling asleep in Stephen's arms during a movie did sound oddly inviting, so you couldn't deny.

"Wore you out, didn't I?", he chuckled, getting you settled in the shower before starting it, the warm spray raining down on the two of you, keeping his hold on you.

"That's what I signed up for", you shrugged and grinned up at him, enjoying the domesticity of showering together without sexual intent. It was wholesome, taking turns to care for the other, Stephen gently soaping up your hair and rinsing it afterwards, you using the opportunity to ease a bit of tension out of his back muscles in return.

Cleaned up nicely and entirely relaxed, you eventually found yourself curled up next to him on the couch, a protective arm draped around you while you rested your head against his chest, barely watching the movie you had decided on together, too busy with enjoying just to be with Stephen.

All of this was what you signed up for too when choosing to forgive him – to be the recipient of Stephen's gentleness, to see his genuine smile, to have him close and be comfortable with him, to have actual conversations and meals together and spend quality time with him in ways you had previously not been able to.

Who knew what the next months, weeks or even tomorrow would be like. Any kind of obstacles could be coming for you soon enough, but if the two of you managed to put an effort in facing them together, perhaps it would turn out just fine.

Not that it mattered right now. You thought about the future often enough and didn't want to find yourself trapped in the same spiral of over-thinking while getting to enjoy your time with Stephen.

For today, you allowed yourself to be happy and content.

[just-a-strange-boy]

slow mornings

Waking up to Stephen might be nothing new to you at this point of your relationship, but you make sure to cherish the moment all the same.

Pairing: Stephen Strange x ftm!Reader

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), unprotected penetrative sex - that's it for this one, it's honestly just unfiltered fluff and sweetness

A/N: listen, I wrote this for Kinktober last year and I'm well aware that this is absolutely not kinky, but my prompt was morning sex, so that's what you're going to get

You simply loved slow mornings with Stephen.

There was something so easy and carefree about it, especially on days like these, when neither of you had to get up early nor felt the need to get the actual morning started, content with just existing and taking the day as it would come.

You had slipped in and out of your slumber, awakened by the first few rays of sunshine seeping through the window, the noises of busy New York streets outside, Stephen gently stirring beside you. Eventually you had just rolled over, abandoning your own bedside, and snuggled up to Stephen's warm form next to you.

While he was seemingly also drifting in and out of sleep, barely conscious, he was welcoming your familiar presence with a low hum from his throat and pulled you into his embrace immediately.

Warm and secure, you were comfortable enough to sink back into sleep.

As the sun finally made its way over to your bed, the bright and warm rays tickling the two of you awake, you discovered yourself pressed tightly to Stephen, your forehead resting against his chest, the familiar warmth and smell surrounding you. You snuggled closer, feeling the arm draped over you shift, Stephen's hand on the broad of your back, his fingers beginning to lazily travel across your skin.

Feeling his touch was thoroughly enjoyable, as it always was, and you hummed softly at the affectionate gesture, planting a few small kisses to your partner's chest in return.

"Mmh, this is nice", Stephen grumbled in response, his hand skirting up your spine, eventually reaching your nape, gently stroking over the back of your head, "Should do this more often."

"Yeah, we should", you mused, voice a little hoarse from sleep, and only slightly drew back, crooking your neck to look up at him, "But every time I do want to cuddle, you usually just fall asleep, old man."

Stephen looked so handsome – not exactly new facts – partly illuminated by the sun right now, seeming at ease and like he had had a good night's rest, his face a little rumpled from sleep, hair all messy, eyes tired though shining the same mesmerizing blue as they always did.

"Okay, meanie", the sorcerer spoke, a slight smile appearing on his lips, "I love waking up to you. Always a pleasure to have you in my bed too.” Stephen yawned then, scrunching his nose right afterwards in a way you thought was simply adorable. “Wish we could spend all day like this, just the two of us, in bed."

"Agreed", you shuffled upwards, not wanting to escape from Stephen's hold, but to bring you almost face to face, "Though Cloak will probably kick us out of bed sooner or later."

"It better not try", Stephen mumbled, trying to repress another yawn and failing miserably, sleep-ridden eyes drifting over your face as he began toying with your hair, carding his fingers through the strands you had decided to grow out again. "I'm really liking this look on you", he added.

“Care to elaborate why, Doctor Strange?", you requested.

While Stephen was never shy of complimenting you, he usually refrained from being too focused on outward appearance or having preferences about it.

The way you wore your hair had never been an issue or something he had seemed to be focused on in the past, whether it reached your shoulders like it did now or was cut significantly shorter, but that didn't mean he didn't care for it. He loved brushing through it, toying with it, fingers gently rubbing circles into your scalp – and of course, grabbing a fistful to tug on them when things got heated in the bedroom.

"Can't put my finger on it", Stephen murmured, "Just looks nice. Not that you don't always do."

"Flattery will get you anywhere, you charmer", you mused and leaned in to steal a quick kiss from him, sneaking your own arm around his mid, absentmindedly beginning to caress Stephen's lower back, your hand occasionally landing a little beneath the waistline, cupping a feel as you went to squeeze his firm ass, not that he seemed to mind.

"I hope it will", was all he said to that, accepting your cheekiness without protest.

He shifted, wedging one leg between yours, resting it there for a moment, simply slotted together. His fingertips continued to gently play with your hair, but there was a change of expression you didn't fail to notice. A mischievous glint in his eyes, a knowing smirk on his lips.

You should have been expecting something, knowing that he would not let you have fun all by yourself, but it still caught you off-guard when he hitched his thigh further up between yours, lightly pressing it against your crotch. Such a small movement, seeming so innocent, and yet it sent a pang of pleasure right through you.

"Seems like someone is in the mood", you chuckled after overcoming the initial surprise, definitely being in the mood yourself, enjoying the littlest bit of the friction he allowed you, his strong thigh against your core. He was obviously doing so with slight amusement, pleased with the responses he earned from you.

Because oh boy, did you react. There was no way in heaven you would have been able to resist him when he was tempting you like this.

You leaned in to kiss Stephen again, slow and lazy and sloppy, dragging your mouth over his, your tongue dancing along the seam of his lips, before finding Stephen's.

There was no need for passion, the tender strokes of your tongues circling each other as you deepened the kiss all you could focus on. Enough to infatuate you completely.

You shifted your hips forward, needing to be even closer to him, unable to avoid grinding into his thigh, interested in what he was suggesting, curious as to what he was planning. Keeping your hand on Stephen's ass, you urged him to press further into you too, wanting him as close as humanely possible, your bodies melting into one with legs entangled.

It was perfect the way it was, a morning like this, and you would have been more than fine with this by itself, warm and safe in Stephen's embrace, hands trailing each others bodies, holding each other so close and soft kisses being shared between you.

But with the connection of your hips, the way you were craving to seek out more friction, every little shift of Stephen against you sending another wave of pleasure to your groin, you began wanting more quickly, convinced to take all that Stephen would give you this morning and hungrily devour all of his little affections.

Thanks to rarely matching schedules, causing you both to be busy at different times of day, Stephen's obligations as well as his usual exhaustion whenever he came back home, there had only been a few occasions for intimacy in the last few weeks.

With a partner like Stephen, you had learned to grasp the opportunity before it slipped away.

And since the two of you were apparently both getting horny now, who were you not to make use of that?

You were only slowly grinding against Stephen's thigh, chasing more of that sweet friction, no doubt wanting to have more of him, telling him what you desired without needing to use words.

The sorcerer understood you all too well and chuckled against your lips in return, pleased with your reaction to his advances and your growing desperation, trying to keep your mouth busy with sloppy kisses as began to gently rock against you, probably trying to make you aching for it, drawing small moans from you again and again, and reveling in them.

He knew damn well what he was doing to you.

"I love it when you're needy", Stephen grinned, his voice only a whisper against your lips, his hand on your back traveling lower and lower, until he reached your butt, squeezing lightly, keeping you close as he rolled his hips into yours another time.

“Good to know I'm not the only one", you replied, noticing Stephen's own and very evident arousal pressed against you, bringing your lips together for another kiss.

It was all tender touches and unfiltered sweetness, relishing in each others affections, hands wandering as you softly rocked against one another, arousal heightening with every move, the need for each other growing by the second.

Though there was no rush to get anywhere at all, neither of you trying to chase your own pleasure. You simply stayed focused on the other, every kiss and every touch testimony to the wonderful love you shared.

Eventually Stephen withdrew, causing you to protest with a whimper, before you understood what he was planning. He softly urged you to turn onto your back with a little nudge, making sure your head was comfortably bedded on the pillows, before he came to kneel between your legs, leaning forward, his comfortable warmth returning to your body.

While his mouth busied itself with peppering small kisses all over your neck and jaw, he began to carefully trail his hands up and down the length of your torso, stroking your sides where you just happened to be awfully ticklish, eliciting a few soft giggles (and a swat of the hand) from you.

"Stop it, Stephen Strange", you huffed in protest, though not expecting him to listen whatsoever. He would do as he pleased and you would let him. You would let him do anything.

"Never", the culprit spoke, continuing to tease you with his gentle fleeting touches and those small wandering kisses that drove you crazy. He mapped out all of you, though already more than familiar with your body, the spots and freckles all over your shoulders and chest, every scar and ridge, his beard tickling your skin as his mouth traveled along.

He always took such good care of you, paying attentions to the zones of your body that really got you going, apparently convinced to take his time with you instead of letting you mindlessly grind against each other like in heat. You wouldn't have minded that either, but for this morning the slow pace was simply perfect.

You thought it was only fair that you responded to him with equal affection, caressing whatever part you could reach of him, whether it were Stephen's strong shoulders, his upper back, the nape of his neck or even his head, brushing your fingers through the bed-ridden hair.

No way in the world you could ever get enough of this. You certainly never wanted to let go off him, didn't want him to part from you. Stay like this forever, just Stephen and you. You urged him to move upwards again and let your mouths slide together once more.

There was no denying. You needed each other.

It was a quiet understanding, a suggestion without deliberation, as Stephen broke the kiss the sit back up, taking charge of the situation as he went to fetch something from the bedside table. He used the moment to slip out of his underwear, visibly aroused from these little affections alone, and moved back to kneel between your legs, parting them further, making space for him.

Hands stroking up and down your thighs, his fingers danced along the inner sides, teasing the sensitive skin, trailing closer and closer to your core, reaching the hems of your underwear, but avoiding to touch you where you ached to be touched the most.

There was a certain look fleeting over Stephen's face as he glanced back up at the you, a quiet request, and you nodded as a sign of clear consent. Gods, you must have been smiling at the sorcerer like he was the best thing in the fucking world.

Who could blame you though? He undoubtedly was.

You felt heat rising up to your cheeks, a certain excitement rippling through you, in nothing but pure anticipation as Stephen stripped you carefully off the last piece of fabric remaining between the two of you.

Your heart fluttered too, adoring the way that Stephen still took his time with you, even after fully undressing, insistent on truly enjoying all of you, hands caressing your stomach, the curve of your hips, your thighs again.

Every single bit of love that Stephen offered to you, you simply sucked right up.

It took a lot of your self-composure to not just start begging for more, not wanting to ruin the quiet moment of anticipation, though you sure wanted and were more than ready, completely wet with arousal. And he could read you well, knowing exactly when it was time to place his hands where.

A shaky breath was escaping your lungs as the tension was close to getting fully unbearable, one of his hands finally delving to the apex of your thighs. Gently nudging you with his fingers, you tried to stop yourself from pressing upwards into his touch and failed miserably, a desperate whine passing your lips.

Using the pad of his thumb to rub over the swollen nub, drawing small circles over it, Stephen took care of this part of you as thoroughly as he had done with any other, knowing how much you loved being touched there, making you surrender completely to him. You were turning to putty under his hands, always.

You looked up at the sorcerer, who so adoringly smiled back at you, understanding your needs and wants immediately as he continued his mission to bring you pleasure, his fingers sliding to the wetness of your entrance, soon joined by the added slickness of some lube, allowing him to open you up as carefully as ever.

So painfully sweet and slow.

"Stephen, please", you only whimpered, welcoming the intrusion of his fingers, the slow strokes brushing past your walls as he was scissoring you open, working them over the spot he knew made you react all too well. Heavenly. Could have let him done this for hours. Could have come on his fingers alone. But if you were to finish, you wanted to do so with Stephen inside of you, together.

He deserved the same exact attention as you did after all.

"I need you, Stephen", you added, pressing further into the touch, urging his fingers to slide deeper into you, requesting more, "Need all of you."

“Your wish is my command", the sorcerer chuckled, pulling back his fingers, leaving you all slick and open and aching for more. He took a moment to prepare his cock with another drip of lube, before sliding back up the length of your body, capturing your lips in a kiss that was nothing but sweet and wholesome.

You used the chance and reached down between your bodies, your fingers coming to wrap around his hardness – warm, rigid, pulsing – and align him with your entrance right away. Not quite letting him push inside, you teased him as he had done with you, sliding his throbbing member up and down your wet folds in a way that made Stephen groan so adorably.

"You'll be the death of me yet", he huffed into the kiss.

"I hope not", you muttered and took him in slowly, wanting to feel every single moment, every single bit of the familiar stretch of his cock, every inch of him filling you up. Bodies flush with heat and downright shaking with want, you let Stephen take the reins then and he took them without a moment of consideration, drawing back before burying himself entirely within you another time and then again and again and again, his thrusts gentle and mindful and deep, rocking your hips together.

You slid one hand into his messy hair, pulled him into another kiss immediately, brushing your mouths together, busying your tongues, wholly content as Stephen made sure to take care of you in the best way possible, making love to you in the soft glow of the morning sun.

So you held him close, as close as you could get him, throwing your arms around the broad shoulders, legs clinging around him, locking him in your embrace, to keep him as near as possible and take him in deep every time, basking in the feeling of intimacy.

You were overcome by plenty sensations, but there were only a few thoughts crossing your mind. How good Stephen was to you. How he felt within you. How thorough he was being with you. How wonderful it was being with him. How much love he was giving you. How much you loved this man.

There was no other for you. He was the one. And you were his.

Filling you up over and over again, moving with an ease and devotion to bring pleasure to you, making you feel all warm and gooey with affection, you kept kissing him with a grin sticking to your lips that said more than words ever could have.

You shared a moan once in a while, hot breath brushing over your lips, sweet words of praise passing between the two of you then.

Something about your connection was wholly indescribable. Even though it remained unsaid, you had no doubt Stephen felt it too, the way you melted into one another, like two pieces that were meant to be slotting together, this kind of belonging, only whole with the other around.

He kept thrusting into you in the same gentle, thorough pace the entire time, muttering and mumbling and moaning, and you wouldn't have wanted it any differently today. When the pleasure became too much to remain silent, too distracting to keep kissing as moans and groans spilled between you, you ease your hold around him a little, allowing your head so sink back into the pillows.

You couldn't help but look at Stephen instead, watching him, your wonderful and loving and attentive Stephen, whose eyes were shining this bright blue and fixed on you, untamed hair falling into his forehead, his gray temples that you adored so much, the sharp lines of his face, the curve on his lips. You brought up one of your hands to his cheek, cradling his jaw.

"I love you", you sighed, words you had often spoken to him and always meant them too, words you would never grow tired of saying to Stephen, whether it was after long days of not seeing each other, during dinner or movie night, just randomly in between the day, or like now in bed, driven by lust and affection.

Because it was true. God, it was so true and real.

Stephen accepted your words with a gratuitous smile. "I love you too", he muttered, gently coming to a halt within you, staying buried deep inside of you as he bowed down to kiss you again.

Once he started moving again, your small confessions hanging in the air between you, you noticed his tender thrusts got a little more needy, a little more passionate, a little more desperate to finally chase that pleasure.

You weren't complaining at all, welcoming the change of rhythm, knowing by the way Stephen shuddered and groaned and seemed to lose himself in the embrace that he was getting close.

There was something immensely sexy about the way Stephen made passionate love to you, and you were adoring the heartfelt emotion displayed in every move, in every moan, in every sweet word. There was just nothing more pleasurable about being taken care of like this, with thoroughness, so fixed on bringing enjoyment to the other person.

It was hot to acknowledge how Stephen let go off all his restraints, letting himself fall, being himself and unashamed of feeling so strongly about you, allowing himself to lose his composure, giving into his own pleasure.

So you held him close again as his head slumped forward, face buried somewhere in the crook of your neck, warm breath and lips ghosting over your skin, spreading kisses and little love bites all over it.

You brushed a hand over the nape of his neck, letting the other one rake over his back, lightly scratching the skin, Stephen's muscles winding under your touch, an evident shudder running through his body as he began panting harder against your throat. He was tensing, close to the edge, exasperated.

"Love you so much", you whispered right into his ear, holding him even tighter as the stutter of his hips set in, his thrusts became lousy and erratic – faster, slower, shallow, deeper, steady on, holding in.

"Let go, Stephen", you continued sweetly, placing a kiss against his graying temple, before a moan slipped past your lips as he hit just the right spot within you, causing your walls to clench around him in return. He did it all over again, settling back in a steadier rhythm, eager to find the spot that made you respond to him again.

"So good, so good", you went on muttering, praising, holding him, clinging onto him, pressing yourself into the last few ardent thrusts, feeling your pleasure built to enormous heights, sensing it wouldn't take long now, for either of you.

"Come for me, Stephen, please", you whined into his ear and locked your legs tighter around him, making sure to keep him in deep, not ever wanting to let go of your wonderful Stephen.

And that was what toppled him over the edge. With the sweetest groan leaving his throat, an amalgamation of swearing and praising and sounds that didn't make sense at all, Stephen finally found his pleasure right there, right then.

Buried to the hilt within you, he spilled inside of you, driving you over the edge, your orgasms washing over the two of you, and it was just perfect.

You were utterly and completely enamored by it, by him, trembling and shuddering and panting atop of you, undeniably happy, grinning broadly, and gladly accepted that Stephen needed time to come back down from his high, murmuring and huffing against your skin, the tension leaving his body, covering you with all of his warmth. He remained right where he was, still fully inside of you.

"Fuck... fuck... you're so good to me", he whispered, a little breathless still, "Always so good, darlin'."

"You're one to talk", you huffed, gently patting his head, stroking his messy hair, "Love you lots, Dr Strange."

"Love you more", Stephen chuckled into the crook of your neck, finding the strength in himself to look back up, pressing the softest kiss to your lips, "I could stay like this all day long." It was sickeningly sweet, the way he was melting into you, proving to you how utterly obsessed and in love he was. All hard and stoic demeanor on the outside, but like this - in private, when it was just the two of you - soft and caring and so wholesome.

You beamed up at him with a smile.

"Mmh, I don't dislike the idea." You were willing to accept of your fate now, if it was going to be like this, even remaining conjoined after being fully satiated, though having Stephen inside of you the entire time would have certainly driven you crazy at some point, craving to have him again eventually, if not leaving you completely oversensitive and overstimulated.

"But if we keep staying like this, it would definitely lead to a second round and we need to be careful with your old bones", you snickered then, planting a kiss to the corner of his mouth and peppering his face with many, many more.

Stephen gave you a soft laugh that made your heartstrings flutter with affection. “Try me”, he chuckled.

To no surprise, there definitely was a second round, putting your stamina to the test. Only remaining entangled and cuddling for a moment, basking in each others and the sun's warmth now fully covering them, before Stephen decided to return to his favorite task: mapping out your body with his hands and mouth, with him ending up between your legs, eating you out until you were nothing but a quivering and whining mess, coming apart for him.

Stephen was very eager to prove his age was nowhere near becoming an issue and had given you not one but two orgasms that made your mind run blank for at least a couple of minutes.

After that, some more cuddling, your stomachs grumbling with a hunger for something other than sex and managing to make your way out of bed eventually, you even decided to wait for breakfast a little longer and had a third round in the shower.

So yeah, you definitely loved slow mornings with Stephen.

[just-a-strange-boy]

better strangers - part 3

part 1 * part 2 * part 4

Stephen and you stopped being strangers a while ago. The arrangement of continuing to have sex behind your sister's back has been nothing but satisfying - well, until some troublesome thoughts finally catch up on you. One question in particular arises: what exactly are you to one another?

Pairing: Stephen Strange x ftm!reader

Warnings: mature rating (implied sexual content, caught in the act), mature language, cheating and the endorsement of cheating, angst / hurt, mentions of break-up

A/N: sooooo... I guess I've been inspired to continue the idea of better strangers and if I'm suffering watching (and of course, writing) these two fools interact with each other and be miserable, you're definitely going to suffer with me! this one gets pretty angsty and I felt it down to my core, getting major flashbacks to one of my situationships... it gets worse before it gets better though. right? RIGHT?

“Do you love her?”

The question had been tormenting you for a while now, but whenever you had meant to ask Stephen that your tongue seemed to be as heavy as lead and you had swallowed down your words instead.

It was a subject you never approached, considering you were in no position to ask, no matter how much the thought irked you.

You were dreading an answer to this exact question too, because what if he said that he did? He couldn't, could he? Who loved their partner and still chose to cheat on them? Especially with their sibling.

You didn't quite understand why else he would stay with her. Why didn't he just break up with her? What was the driving force behind him continuing this relationship if it was not what he wanted in the first place?

He didn't need to be with your sister in order to see you. It would have been a lot easier without her in the picture. If he couldn't come around anymore because of your sister, you sure would have found your way around his, not wanting to lose what you had.

Was it possible that he, as insatiable as he was, wanted you both? Would it be okay for you if that were to be the truth, forever sharing Stephen with your sister? You weren't so sure how to feel about this thought either, especially after just being so intimate with Stephen, and it didn't help your confusion that you could never quite figure out his intentions.

Your little arrangement had been going on for about two months now and still escaping your sister's radar. She was so oblivious, downright stupid, for not seeing what was going on behind her back, because it wasn't like you were being so seriously secretive all the time.

Did she not notice the lingering glances, the playful teasing, the innocent but frequent touches you shared? Did she not question why Stephen was so insistent on coming around the apartment instead of inviting her more often to his? Did she not see how regularly you ended up with love bites and mussed up hair, flushed with heat, especially after Stephen had been around you?

Admittedly, the two of you had been growing more bold with time. The risky behavior ensured you just the thrill you needed.

In the beginning you had been careful, tiptoeing around the fact that this was happening in the first place because it was so forbidden, and only decided to fuck when there was a one-hundred percent guarantee she was not going to come home anytime soon.

But the more often you had sex, the more daring your encounters had become. On rare occasions, Stephen had been in your bed when he should have been in your sisters. Plenty of times, you might have slipped into the bathroom to join him while your sister was most definitely at home – luckily the door locked and you had learned to keep really quiet.

Generally no room in the house was safe – you had defiled the kitchen counter, the couch, the wall in the corridor, the windowsill in the living room, and your sister's bed.

You'd let yourself be bend over and taken anywhere Stephen liked. He made sure to give you what you wanted. He was relentlessly horny and you loved it, because he matched your sex drive. Not to mention, the sex was always great too.

The reason why you were doing it in the first place was just that. That's all there was. Right?

It was just sex and nothing more. It was sex, because the two of you were apparently both obsessed with getting off and the way your bodies responded to one another was as if they were constructed to be in all kinds of positions together. It felt so natural, as if you were meant to be.

The physical attraction was hard to deny anyways. Stephen was hot. You were certain the feeling was mutual. Something about you seemed to get him going like crazy.

While you suspected it might be because fucking someone who was trans was a completely different, perhaps even thrilling experience some might fetishize, you tried to have some faith in Stephen. He didn't seem to be that kind of person.

It couldn't be that he just did it for the kick, because if he were only interested in your type of body, he could have chosen any other transman to fuck. But it had to be you, regardless of you being related to his girlfriend.

And now, after these months of being carelessly horny and going at each other like wild animals, doubts finally seemed to set in, overtaking your thoughts constantly.

You had barely been able to relax today, even though Stephen had been nothing but gentle, laying you out atop your own bed, his mouth and hands wanting to treat you to pleasure. He had tried and it had felt good - Stephen and whatever he did to you always felt so good – but you had failed to achieve an orgasm, your head so unbelievably full of worries it was hard to concentrate.

What if all this was indeed just for his personal kick?

What if he had no genuine interest in the person you were? What if it was only your body he desired, because of the way it was? You had never questioned his sexuality, but not actually knowing... the thought made you oddly dysphoric.

What if it wasn't you at all, but the danger of this situation? The danger of being discovered, doing something so forbidden. What if that gave him the necessary kick of adrenaline? Was it really just sex for him? Was it really just sex for you?

Because you wouldn't be having these thoughts, constantly asking yourself these ridiculous questions, if that wasn't the case.

The sex had come first, the excitement of fucking a stranger had gotten you hooked. Then, as soon as you had gotten to know him, a genuine fascination in his person had followed. Everything he was had pulled you in like magic, and there was something between the two of you that you still weren't able to describe.

Of course, initially trying to resist him before finally giving in had caused you to get carried away with desire. All of the sudden you couldn't get enough. You always seemed to want more and more.

It wasn't just purely sexual, what you felt. All of Stephen simply appealed to you. He was charming, usually kind, but a bit of an arrogant asshole when he wanted to be. He was attentive and smart, pleasant to be around. The way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, the way the simplest touch seemed to awaken butterflies in your stomach... It was making all of this much harder.

You had feelings for Stephen, that much you knew, and you found yourself so attached to him, the idea of letting him go was frightening. Ending your arrangement would definitely hurt you. But staying in the same spot forever, only partially allowed to have him, didn't sound any less heartbreaking.

Could Stephen ever like you though? Did it matter whether he did or not? Did he like you already?

There had to be more to it, on his side too. You allowed yourself to imagine as much at least, judging Stephen's behavior and the way he treated you sometimes.

He wouldn't have bothered laying in bed with you, letting you curl up to him and keeping a protective arm wrapped around you, even though it had been an entirely unsatisfactory experience for the two of you today. He wouldn't have bothered to press gentle kisses to your head and hold onto you so tightly.

You were cuddling. That's when you had asked.

His reaction was imminent, he turned his head towards you and ever so slightly scoffed. “That's what you choose to think about while we are in bed naked together?”

He lifted an eyebrow at you, played it off with a smile. Had it bothered him that you had asked? Certainly only the tip of the iceberg after not being able to cum or actually having sex for that matter. You had gotten to the point of undressing, having his hands or mouth on you, but no further.

“It's just... I wanna know. Not that it would change anything...”, you mumbled, hiding your face in his chest. You were afraid of the answer he was going to give, if he was going to give you one. Afraid he might not take this serious and ridicule you for having insecurities about this – while he was literally in your bed.

Because it was ridiculous, wasn't it?

“If it won't change anything, then why does it matter to you?”, was all Stephen responded. There was no annoyance swinging in his voice. A large hand brushed through your hair. He spoke your name then, gently, appeasing.

“Would I be here with you if I did? Love her?”

He did have a point there. You looked back at him, crossing his gaze – softened, ocean blue eyes that always managed to pull you in. You were so hooked on him and he probably didn't even understand. How could he be so mesmerizing, entrancing you with only a simple look, entirely captivating?

How could he hold so much power over you, to the point where you had decided to ignore all morality, all of that blood is thicker than water bullshit, all of that bad consciousness?

“Why are you with her? If you don't love her... why not break up? Why be here with me?”

You should have stopped questioning things.

Usually your sister was never a topic between the two of you. Didn't really fit in while you were fucking and you wouldn't have wanted to ruin the little time together you had. You had never voiced any concerns over it or her feelings for that matter – you didn't ask him now, because you started caring about the role your sister played in all of this.

You cared about Stephen and having him.

“Why does it matter? As long as I am with her, I can be around you as often as I want. I'd say that's a pretty good deal”, he seemed unfazed, “Are you having second thoughts about this?”

“No.” You weren't worried about your sister or your arrangement and if you could keep on hiding that from her. You were insecure, in a way perhaps even upset, because you were jealous.

Why was it so unfair? It could have all been so easy – he could have broken up with her and been with you instead. She wouldn't have to know it was you he had chosen over her. And even if... it was about time you moved out anyways.

But you had a good feelings that this wasn't as serious to Stephen as it was to you. Perhaps a conversation had been long due.

“But that sounds like if you weren't with her... you wouldn't bother doing this with me either. It's not like you have to be with her in order to have sex with me”, you continued, “Like... hit me up, give me a call... you needn't come here. I could come to yours. We could still hook up.”

If there was time and space to share your honest thoughts on the matter, this was it. You weren't drunk on passion or being sappy in the afterglow. In this moment of insecurity you wanted nothing more than clarity.

“So it does bother you.” You didn't like the way he was smirking at you, like he was somehow proud of the fact he had just discovered that. Like he wasn't concerned about it at all. So indifferent, amused, enjoying your jealously that was growing a little more evident.

“Yes, it does.”

And it was completely fine that it bothered you, wasn't it? You were not beyond having feelings and definitely not beyond jealously, especially knowing that you had no claim to the man while your sister did. You just couldn't blame him or anyone in the world for feeling the way you did. You had very well gotten yourself into this.

Still it pained you to learn he didn't take it all too serious, that maybe he didn't actually care for you or your feelings. It was only the sex that mattered – and he had chosen you as his object of desire, that was all you were.

Though he could have had anyone. Who was to say that he didn't? He fucked you behind your sister's back. What if he fucked others as well, people you both didn't know about? What was stopping him from sleeping around, if even being committed didn't seem to hold him back?

It was not your place to care. He wasn't anyone to you, of course not the stranger he used to be – but still just a mere acquaintance, your sister's boyfriend, someone you had a sexual arrangement with. Not a thing more.

With a sigh, he ruffled your hair. The gesture made you feel like nothing more than a silly child, even though he probably meant to console you, in a way he deemed fitting.

“Don't think so much, pretty boy”, he shrugged it off, “Look, I'm having sex with you because I want to. We both want to and it's fucking amazing sex. That's all. I don't care that you're her brother. Your relation to her was a lucky coincidence and it worked out well for us, didn't it? Things are fine the way they are right now and I don't want them to change.”

“Are they though? Fine?”, you wondered, surprised how snappy these words sounded coming from your lips, and eventually withdrew from his hold, sitting up next to him.

You felt upset with Stephen all of the sudden, though you weren't exactly in a position to expect anything. He was a cheater. You enabled it. Your arrangement was about sex. He owed you nothing.

So why would you be so silly as to expect some compassion from him right now? Yet it pained you that he was being so indifferent.

“If your relationship with my sister is just fine, then why are we even fucking around in the first place? Why bother being unfaithful if you didn't even have to be?”

“That does sound like you want me to break up with her”, Stephen acknowledged. The expression on his face had shifted, hardened. He ended up giving you a weary look, not trying to reach out and pull you back, “So it does make a difference to you. Whether I'm with her or not.”

“Of course, it does”, you admitted.

He let out another huff. He began ridiculing you, judging by the tone in his voice and the way he ever so slightly rolled his eyes. “Come on, don't tell me you only now start to realize what's wrong with all this. I think it's a bit too late to develop a consciousness when we've been fucking around for two months.”

“I just don't understand”, you muttered under your breath, feeling very small, because you knew he was right and it was wrong to expect anything from his side, other things that were not included in your arrangement, including serious feelings.

Why start to second guess things now? Wasn't just having sex good enough? You had willingly betrayed your sister, all because of the man before your eyes. You had always been convinced you were on the same page as Stephen, but right now... right now, your view on the situation couldn't have been any different.

“I don't understand why you would stay with her, if you don't want this relationship. Why be with someone you don't love?”, you asked another time, knowing that he was not going to give you an answer, not now, perhaps not ever.

Stephen followed you suit, eventually sitting up on the bed as well. He looked at you for a long moment, his expression entirely unreadable now, but he seemed like he was searching for something on your face in return.

Then he spoke up. “Who cares about love, honestly? We're not fucking for love. I'm not with your sister for love. But I guess you wouldn't understand it. So please, don't wreck your pretty little head about it, yeah?”

For the first time, you got to see an entirely different Stephen. Cold and dismissive.

In all your time together, he had never been so cruel to you. His words rendered you speechless and you could only watch with a deep, burning pain inside your chest as Stephen climbed out of your bed and started to pick his clothing off the floor without another word.

He was going to leave. Not because your sister would be home anytime soon, not because he had to leave for work. But because you and your questioning had driven him away. He fled your inquiries and avoided to give you any more answers, no matter how much he knew it would pain you. He'd rather walk away than letting himself be pressured by your questions.

You had pushed it. Stephen didn't like being pushed.

Maybe an apology would have done. Another word, anything. But it was just an awkward silence settling over the two of you while he got dressed.

You didn't want to seem desperate, so you wouldn't beg him to stay. You never begged him for anything, outside of your sexual experiences. Never had to. Stephen did as he pleased and usually that co-aligned with what you wanted.

If he wanted to leave, you'd let him. Might be better if he did anyways. You couldn't even really look him in the eye at the moment, disappointment devouring your heart.

You threw the comforter over your naked form, watching him, so many things still running through your head, things you were too cowardly to ask or to say. All of them circled back to the impression you had gotten - he didn't really care about you. He wanted the sex, that's why he came to you. That's what the arrangement was about. Sex. Anything outside of that didn't matter.

There were no feelings involved, not on his side. Why should there be?

“I'll see you on Wednesday”, Stephen stated, closing his belt, then tugging on his shirt a few more times before seeming satisfied with the state of his clothing. He grabbed his things from the nightstand and headed for the door, only paying you another look, the most disappointing goodbye you had gotten in a while. Or ever, for that matter.

“Yeah... yeah, right, see you”, you nodded towards him, though by then he was long out of earshot. He'd left as quickly as he could have possibly done.

But you knew he'd be back. It wasn't like he ever stayed away for long. Because he couldn't.

Your sister would invite him over for dinners, unaware of all the things going on around her. Even if she wouldn't, Stephen had always been capable of finding another excuse to pop by, a surprise visit at times. And even if she weren't around, he would probably still dare to come by to seek you out. That's how things usually were.

You didn't understand anything anymore.

•

Wednesday came around quicker than you'd expected. Not that the last few days had been exceptionally pleasant for you. Between working your usual day job, tormented by other people pestering you with their issues over the phone, and constantly having to think about Stephen – his behavior, his words, his...ugh, just everything – there wasn't a single minute you found yourself capable of relaxing.

You hated it. All of it.

The fact that Stephen had waltzed into your life this way, and not any other way. The fact that he had been with your sister and you had still wanted him. Even more so, the fact you had gotten him while he still was with your sister – and how you hadn't felt any remorse about it.

The fact you were being such an asshole and a liar, dared to look your sister in the eye while fucking her boyfriend behind her back, and still expected to get something nice in return.

But perhaps most of all, you hated the fact that it hurt you. That you had feelings for someone like Stephen in the first place. That you let him fuck you, now knowing it was entirely meaningless to him. That you would still rather have him this way than not have him at all.

When had you become so obsessed with him?

Your head was a mess. You couldn't think straight or sort out your feelings much. There was no one to talk to about this. Even your best friends would have looked at you in disbelief. Even they would have resented you for doing this. Even they would have called you for your horrible behavior.

Stephen had been right. It was too late to worry about morality now. You were as much of an asshole as he was and all you felt now, all the heartache and fear and regret, was what you deserved.

Stephen didn't have anything to fear.

You could have ended the arrangement and stopped having sex with him altogether – he would not need to bother. Plenty of fish in the sea.

You would not be able to tell your sister without ruining your relationship with her – and you sure as hell didn't want to be thrown out of your apartment without another place to stay.

You couldn't have possibly snitched on him because you were just as bad, and since you weren't able to tell anyone, he was not going to suffer any consequences.

So maybe ending the arrangement would make sense, for your own good and because you overstepped the boundaries with all your feelings. Forget about it. Let Stephen do whatever he wanted and accept the heartache. Learn the lesson and do it the hard way. It was what you deserved. He wouldn't care enough to run after you and you wouldn't ask him to.

But he would still be your sister's boyfriend and you'd forever know he had cheated on her with you. You'd forever look at him like you did now.

Admiring. Yearning. Hurting.

You dreaded coming home from work on Wednesday, because you knew as soon as you stepped into that apartment, he'd be there and act all loving around your sister, but still dare to look at you like he wanted to devour you when he had the chance. Or maybe he wouldn't, changing things up for a while, looking at your sister the same way, especially where you could see it, if only to get you raging with jealousy.

You would. You'd be furious and still want to mount him.

Maybe that's why you decided to walk home instead of taking the subway, killing more time like this rather than having to be around them. But you knew that you had to get home eventually – the apartment was your place just as much as your sister's, you were dying to get some good rest in your bed after this day and you didn't want Stephen Strange to be the reason to keep you away from it.

Though perhaps you should have better crashed at a friend's for today.

Making your way through the front door, as quietly as you could in chance of sneaking to your room unnoticed and perhaps even avoiding their attention altogether, you hadn't really expected having to bear witness to this.

You couldn't believe it – didn't even have to see it to know what was going on. The noises told you enough. The smack of skin, the familiar low groans of Stephen paired with whimpers and moans of pleasure which could only stem from your sister.

You wanted a hole to open up in the ground right away and swallow you whole. You wanted to disappear. Really.

But instead of escaping the situation again, getting away from this, leaving altogether, you just stayed put. You stood there, lost within yourself, listening to them. The feeling of dread settled low in your stomach, your heart was burning a hole in your chest, the noises were drowned out by the sudden droning of your ears, and as if that wasn't worse enough by itself, tears began to well in your eyes.

Silly boy. Thinking he would care about you. Thinking he would not bother with your sister anymore, because he had you. Thinking he would stay away from her, for you.

No, of course he didn't. He was fucking her in the same way he was fucking you. Because he could.

With careful steps you padded through the hall. You should have looked straight ahead, not bothering to look into the living room, because you wouldn't have needed to. You already knew they were fucking on the couch, even without having to check.

Maybe he did it all on purpose. Knowing you'd be home any time, Stephen could have simply worked his charm on your sister and convinced her to fuck him like this. For the thrill. To prove to you this was just a game for him. To mock you.

Maybe you should have thrown a fit. Barged into the living room to interrupt them, just so Stephen would look and finally see how much he hurt you, just so your sister would be embarrassed and ashamed, just so this would end.

But you didn't. For a split second you lingered in the doorway and glanced over.

Their naked bodies entwined, when it should have been you on top of him. Her head buried in his shoulder, when it should have been you, pressing your face into crook of his neck, taking in his wonderful smell. His hands digging into her soft flesh, when it should have been you he held onto and touched. But it wasn't.

Then, Stephen's eyes fell onto you, as if he knew you'd be there to lock gazes.

Without seizing his motions or stopping the groans slipping past his lips, he looked at you. Your sister was mussing up his hair and continuously rode him, too busy with chasing her own pleasure while he continued to look at you. For as long as you stood there, he kept on looking at you and you didn't understand why he did what he did or what he might think or why either of you found it hard to look away again.

Not that it mattered.

As all of your vision ended up consumed with tears, you turned your head and moved on, slipping into your bedroom, letting the door softly fall into its lock behind you, picked up your headphones and slumped down on your bed. Once you pressed play and closed your eyes, you tried to shut out all of it.

The noises, the pictures and most of all the heartache. But it was ridiculous and useless. It would have never worked. Because you and Stephen had played a dangerous game. You had fallen hard for him, all he was. This was the price you paid for your stupidity.

You began to cry.

Lord knew for how long you had been there, bawling your eyes out over a man you had willingly use you and used in return, a man you had allowed yourself to be vulnerable with because you had trusted him, someone you had hoped would perhaps develop actual feelings for you. But it was all for nothing.

Sex was all there was and all that ever would be between you. That and the downward spiral of developing feelings for someone you couldn't have. And now the realization of how stupid you had been to have something like hope.

You hadn't heard the knock to your door and found yourself more than just startled by the sudden dip of your bed, your eyes shooting open, downright flinching. Though you weren't all that surprised when you realized it was Stephen. Could have expected that, him coming to see and talk to you.

He placed a hand on your arm and no matter how much you would have liked to pull away to get away from him, you'd much rather have his touch on you than lack it altogether. It hurt though. It hurt to know how he had just touched your sister, and so much more intimately, and was now coming onto you, seemingly gentle.

He motioned for you to take off your headphones with his free hand. You did.

“Hey”, he greeted you. The tone of his voice could have whittled away on your sadness, your disappointment, any other time. But it wasn't enough now, with the picture of them on the couch in the back of your head and his words from your last conversation repeating themselves like a broken record.

You didn't need him to play nice now. Whatever he was going to say, was just going to leave more damage.

“Can't you just leave me alone, Stephen?”, you asked, rubbing dried tears off your cheeks. You were fine with letting him know that you had cried – but didn't want to talk to him about it. Didn't have to make it worse than it already was. Didn't need him to humiliate you any further.

You had seen and heard enough to know where he stood. He knew where you stood with your feelings now as well.

“I could, if you really wanted me to. But I had a feeling that maybe you... maybe we should talk?”, he approached you calmly. He could have tried doing this days ago and you would have been amenable. But he had been dismissive. He had left. He hadn't cared. Why did he bother now?

Of course, he was likely feeling guilty right now. That you had seen him like this. That he had driven you to tears with his behavior. It's not like it was an apology. Not that you'd deserve one either.

“Oh, and now is the right time?”, you said a little more pointed. That's how it usually was – sadness and despair first, then disappointment and raw frustration setting in. As much as being angry with Stephen was not the way to go, you couldn't help it. You were so devastated.

Stephen shrugged, but still tried to appease you. He was keeping his hand on your arm and you still didn't pull away. “Your sister's asleep, so it's the perfect opportunity for having a chat. I wanna address what you saw, at least. Besides that, I think there's a lot we should have talked about a while ago.”

It dawned on you how you had no idea what time it was. Some of it must have passed between you finding them fucking, curling up in your bed and him approaching you like this. One look to the bedside clock told you it was late, a little after nine. Had you really laid here and cried that long?

Made sense though, that Stephen was coming for you now, since your sister wasn't able to develop any suspicions while being asleep. The fact alone made a jealous fire burn in the pit of your stomach. Fucking your sister had been more important to him than you. Only after being done with her, he could move on onto you.

Did he really only get it now, after you saw them like this, that you needed to have a conversation?

“Good for her. Good for you too. You seemed very happy fucking her brains out. Did you think about the fact that maybe I don't wanna talk to you after seeing that?”

“Why are you in such a mood now? Yes, I had sex with her. It doesn't mean anything that I did. It's what people in relationships do and it's not like it's news I'm having sex with her”, Stephen spoke rather defensively, “It never bothered you before and it doesn't change the fact that I still desire you, so I don't know why that's such a big deal all of the sudden. Yes, it sucks that you came home while we were at it. I would have rather not have you see that, but shit happens.”

It wasn't that his words weren't right, but they still offended you. His careless wording, the tone of his voice, everything from the hard look in his eyes, his hand on your arm in the meanwhile... You just felt very disappointed.

“Everything is just so meaningless to you, isn't it?”, you huffed and the way you rapidly sat up on the bed caused him to take his hand off you. He didn't try to touch you again afterwards.

It had never quite hurt so badly before and you had never felt such a strong urgency to tell him how much of a dick he was being.

“Why'd you do this today? You knew I'd come home. We'll see each other on Wednesday, that's what you said mere days ago. You knew I might be around to see it and you still did it!”

Stephen closed his eyes, took a deep breath, swallowed down a sigh perhaps.

“I didn't really think about it and it just happened, okay? It wasn't out of spite or anything. I didn't fuck her there, because I wanted to hurt you... I would never do that”, he pointed out, “We just got into it, went a little too far, I guess. That still doesn't explain why are you making such a drama out of this?”

“Because you don't care”, you accused him, not minding the tone of your voice or that your sister next door could have woken up by the noise and heard you arguing. You weren't speaking quietly and anyone hearing your words could have suspected you were having relationship issues. It only reminded you even more that he wasn't your boyfriend.

“You don't care about either of us. As long as it gets your dick wet, you don't have to worry. It works just well for you, yeah, so why change a thing? One sibling isn't good enough, so why not just fuck the both of us? And why? Because it doesn't matter to you at all.”

It was very evident that Stephen didn't like what you were accusing him of. He didn't like you complaining. His expression was stern, a nervous twitch of his eye displaying how he was being bothered just now.

“It's not like we have to have sex. If you want to stop, just say it. I'd respect that”, he tried to calm you though, “But you consented to this arrangement as much as I did. You always wanted the sex as much as I did. We can end it, if it's getting too much for you.”

“It's just lovely to know what we have doesn't mean a single thing to you”, you snapped right back at him, unable to repress your fury anymore.

“That's not true.”

“Is it not?”

“If it didn't mean anything, do you really think I would have been risking it all just to get myself laid outside of my relationship all this time?” He was visibly gritting his teeth now, the clench of his jaw indicating that you were angering him too.

“Would I have come onto you for just a bit of fun? Because I think with my cock? Do you have any idea how much it sucks to me that it has to be you? That you're her brother? Do you know it would be so much easier if you were anyone else in the fucking world?”

“Well, how do you think I feel?”, you hissed back at him, though after your uprising anger, it was now more so despair ruling over you again.

“It sucks that you have to be her boyfriend. I hate it so much. I'm so fucking jealous, because I don't want it to be her you're with. And I don't wanna stop this with you. But it hurts so much to know that I'm just a dirty little secret. To see you with someone else, when I just want to be with you. Can't you see that?”

Apparently he could though now.

“Is that why you've been so off lately?”, he asked. There was this tone in his voice again. A smile of uncertainty. Ridiculing you. “You're not seriously saying you're having feelings for me?”

“It doesn't matter anyways, Stephen. I get it. It means nothing to you what I think and you've made very sure to prove that”, you dismissed him, “It was not the point of the arrangement that I develop feelings for you. We didn't make it for that. Only the sex.”

“Because that was what we both wanted.”

“But what is it that you really want? You want her? Is it about the thrill of fucking around? Fucking someone who is like me?” The thought still stung, but you couldn't help it. Your insecurity was driving you mad and every feeling was pouring out of you. “Is it because I've been so willing to let you do whatever you want to me? How fucking convenient she's related to such a slut like me, the perfect little whore for you. Pliant and easy and available whenever.”

Stephen rolled his eyes at you. The way his chest rose and sunk you could see he was getting worked up about this too. “Oh, stop talking about yourself like that! I don't understand where you're coming from now. I thought we were on the same page about our arrangement. It was so uncomplicated with you.”

“Well, it's not anymore!”, you finally spoke the truth out loud. Because that's how things were. Feelings complicated everything. All that time you had never once thought about the probability of this happening to you. But it was very real right now.

“This was never gonna have a good ending”, you added, staring him down the way he did with you.

Stephen scoffed. He seemed a little helpless though, not knowing what to respond. “I can't give you what you want. I couldn't be that. I'm not good at it. Feelings. You know I'm not”, he seemed to bite back on his own anger, ending up reasoning with himself and with you.

But it didn't change a single thing.

“Yeah, I know as much now.” And it was up to you to end the arrangement, now or never.

“You have to understand... I didn't want to make it seem like it...”, he began again and while you later thought perhaps it would have been wise to hear him out, you didn't want him to say any more now.

“I don't wanna hear it. You've said enough. Just leave me alone”, you interrupted him and for the flicker of a moment noticed how he wavered - his face threatened to fall, a small frown appearing, not having expected to hear that out of all things. Perhaps you could have mistaken it as insecurity or regret. But you cared too little about what he was feeling right now, pained by your own heartache and needing to make a choice you didn't like, but knew was necessary.

“Is that what you want then? End the arrangement?”, Stephen asked, his tone entirely neutral, and his features hardened again, “Cause that's what I'm hearing.”

“Yes. We're over. It's done.”

“But come on, please... you've got to know that I...”, he tried to approach you in a softer and gentler way again, and you hated he was even trying to reason with you in the first place, because it made you want to listen to him even more. But you simply couldn't allow yourself to.

So when he reached for your hand in an attempt to get through to you, you could only pull it out of his reach and refuse, your heart shattering into thousand little pieces when you saw momentary hurt flick over his face and the lump he swallowed down.

But you still did it, because you had to. “Stephen, just leave. Please”, you begged him now.

It was the only thing you were ever going to beg him for. The last thing you would ever request from him. The thing that hurt you the most – telling him to leave and watching him as he did.

[just-a-strange-boy]

better strangers will be continued in two extra parts - and oh boy, it's gonna be a rollercoaster of emotions!

are Stephen and reader gonna get a happy ending or end up suffer the inevitable consequences of their shenanigans?

find part one here and part two here 💙