#marvel x ftm reader

[marvels-bitch-boy]

The Pizza Boy

Kate Bishop x Ftm reader:

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.3k

Kate Bishop doesn’t understand why you -the pizza delivery boy who works below her- continues to give her a free pie every Wednesday after your shift ends. It confuses her to no end. I mean she doesn’t see why you do it if you don’t even talk to her. You always leave it at her door with no note and it’s never the same pizza two weeks in a row.

 Now to be fair there is a possibility it wasn’t you, she never actually saw you leave the pies, but you did always smile at her from the register when she walked by.

 After about two months of this, she decided she wanted evidence of who pizza-hood was -her friends coined the name not her-. She watched through the peephole around the time she believed the drops would happen. Much to her surprise, you walked up the stairs bundled in a few jackets and a beanie with a pizza in hand and a content face as you placed the box on her doormat. 

Eventually, she got up the courage to leave a few notes on her door for you.

Thanks for the pies  ;)

Soon they evolved into really bad pizza puns

I’m going to guess your name is on a Knead-to Know basis -K.B

Hoping I don’t seem like a weird-dough -K.B

These pies are here today, gone tomato -K.B

Hope you cheesed the day (that was super bad I’m sorry) -K.B

She could see every time you read them and she could see the small smile that would creep at the corners of your lips. It slowly became one of the things she looked forward to every week.

—

After a spat with her mom, she was on her way home when she saw that you were working a later shift so she saw no harm in stopping by to say hi…that “hi” turned into a two-hour-long conversation on varying topics and ended with her behind the counter while you stepped out to deliver a pizza a few blocks away to an apartment of drunk college kids. When you came back she was sitting on the counter playing a game on her phone. 

“Wow!” you fake gasped “and here I thought I could trust you to watch this fine establishment while I stepped out!” you gestured around the barren pizza shop and turned back to her with a smirk that paired well with your furrowed brows “And you’re on your phone!”

“You can so trust me! I promise!” she placed her phone down as she stared at you “Look it’s away, you and this gourmet restaurant have my full attention” 

You laughed and before you knew it your shift was over, which meant that your evening with Kate was cut short. Right as you were leaving she stopped you and seemed to be pulling up some courage before she asked you a question that surprisingly to her you had never been asked before. 

“Can I get your number?...” she paused for a second “It’s just to play games together, in case you get bored” she finished with a small smile and you exchanged phones with a smile gracing your lips. 

“Hope I get bored soon then…” you hand her phone back and say good night before making your way to the subway.

—

She started to stop in more and talk with you. You actually took more late shifts just so you made sure to catch her. Still dropping a pizza off every Wednesday for her. 

One night you saw someone in a ninja costume carrying a dog run past the shop. Then a while later two vans with mean-looking tracksuit guys who looked as greasy as your pizzas began yelling and throwing stuff at her windows. You and your bosses all went out to get them to leave. You began shouting as loud as you can for them to fuck off and heard Kate yell from the window something along the lines of  “DON’T FUCK WITH HIM!” but quickly was interrupted when a molotov cocktail was thrown at her. You decided that was the last straw and grabbed the nearest thing…which was a bird scooter. You chucked it at one of the guys. It didn’t go far… You didn’t see Kate after the fight and your stomach was in knots at the fact that you hadn’t heard from her.

—

You didn’t see kate for a few days after the fire, eventually she came back but she seemed to arrive home late and wouldn’t stop in. You decided to leave her a pizza and a note, and when that didn’t work you texted her and then when that didn’t work…you knocked on her door. She answered looking very tired and disheveled but soon very embarrassed and startled when she noticed it was you. You let out a small giggle at her reaction as she let you in, and waited while she went to get changed for a moment. You took this time to look around her apartment, it was filled with purple and was a lot bigger than anything you could afford. Once she was back you two sat on her couch and began talking.

“Okay, so…are you doing okay? I mean last week was crazy, those guys burning this place up and everything, what happened?” you were met with a mix of emotions on her face. She looked like she was trying to hold in a smile but also stop herself from crying. She took a deep breath and began to answer each question you gave. 

Your eyes went wide trying to process all the information and events that she was describing to you but then she started talking about you… wait you? She was using words like cute and sweet which made you smile a little as she started to ramble and quickly ended with “so yeah, that’s been the last month” for a moment you just sat in shock with your mouth hanging open and your eyes wide. 

Suddenly you stood up and looked at her, then slowly smiled. She looked confused and matched your smile. ”so….you think I’m cute?” you smirked at her like you’ve never done before.

 She quickly realized what she said “No! I mean you are but like- like in a friend way…I mean don’t you call all your friends cute?” You had already reached the door of her apartment.

“Nope, no take-backs!” and with that, you slipped out.

—

The two of you began to get closer as time passed. She invited you to hang out a lot and meet her friends, you invited her to meet yours. You can’t remember who or how it started but at some point, your little banter and jokes took a more flirtatious turn. Soon you’d catch yourself staring at her from across the room, waiting for her to text you goodnight before you fell asleep, looking for any excuse to hold her hand while you two were together. It didn’t help that she flirted back and never pulled away from you while you touched each other. You didn’t know if she was comfortable dating a trans dude, hell you hadn’t even told her you were trans. You decided that was the first thing you should do, then you needed to figure out if you should get over her or eventually tell her how you felt. You decided to tell her after going to a concert together and felt it was the right time, you walked her to her door and asked if you could use the bathroom to which she happily agreed when you got out she was sitting on her couch with a cup of hot chocolate and a second cup on the counter for you. You joined her and you two began talking and eventually, you stopped the conversation and started to get more serious “so..um Kate, there was something I um- I wanted to talk to you about actually” 

she shifted slightly to face you more and placed her mug down. “There actually was something I wanted to talk about too…” she didn’t really look at you instead of focusing on her hands in front of her. 

“Mines bigger, I really need to tell you because I don’t know how you’d feel after I tell-” 

she cuts you off “-I like you” 

your eyes went wide and your jaw dropped slightly 

“a lot actually, I didn’t know how to tell you-” next you cut her off 

“-I’m trans” 

She now did a double blink and took a sharp breath in. Your mind was racing and suddenly you became aware of all the weapons she had in her apartment and you just shot up and grabbed your jacket and began to apologise repeatedly as you walked to the door, she attempted to stop you but you were out the door before she could even reach you. 

Your phone was buzzing like a hex bug as you walked down the street. You checked and saw the screen become filled up with texts from Kate and you didn’t want to know what she was saying, you silenced your phone and shoved it in your pocket. You had already lost friends because of your transition and you didn’t want to prolong the pain. You knew in the back of your mind that she wasn’t like that but you still had those lingering thoughts the ones that where telling you the moment you told her, her feelings for you were gone. That the second the words had left your mouth that any chance you had with her went up in a puff of smoke. You knew you should have stayed. You knew you should have sat and talked, but the fear just erupted like a geyser and you ran. 

As you got onto the subway you saw a young kid on the other side of the car with a few pride pins. You smiled to yourself at how happy they seemed to be whenever they looked at them. The car pulled up to a stop and a mid-size group of boys who appeared to be around the age of 17-19 got on. They were laughing and joking around and as soon as one of them saw the pins they began mocking the kid. 

“Get a load of this freak!” One of them motioned to his friends and they all began laughing. “What? You couldn’t slack it with the girls?” You warily watched the situation and listened in on high alert. “What exactly do you have down there? I mean are you one of those freaks with both?” His buddy that wreaked of liquor -so much that you could smell it from the other side of the car- moved closer to the kid and chuckled “Why don’t you let us take a look? Wouldn’t hurt anyone” The fear that became present in the kids' eyes ignited something in you. You shot up like a bullet and made your way in between the boys and the kid as fast as you could. 

“Trust me. It would hurt alot” you grabbed his wrist that had come up while he moved. You faced the rest of the group that had begun chuckling at you. “Mind your business dude” The one whose wrist you had, yanked it out of your grasp and looked mad. You didn’t back down, you seemed to have adrenaline pumping through you like a rushing river. “This is my business, so back off” You spoke through gritted teeth and didn’t break eye contact. “Why don’t you make us since you seem so set on protecting this freak” he pushed at you and his buddies chimed in with encouragement. You attempted to protest but he went to hit you in the gut and you seemed to fold under the force. 

The cold floor that your hands landed on felt as unstable as a high schooler's mental state after taking 4 AP classes. Struggling to get up you felt another blow hit your face and the sound of the train became fuzzy. You attempted to get up but one of the guys kicked your wrist and you went down once again. The adrenaline started to course through your veins, instead of jumping up and attempting to fight more you kicked at his knee and to his groin which sent him to the ground as well. The car stopped and the doors opened. This was your chance and you took it. Dashing out of the subway and hopping the turnstyle. Your face was bloody and cut, the cold air of the night felt like an antiseptic on your skin. Seeing what stop you had gotten off at you saw the way home in your head and began walking. Coming across hundreds of college students piling in and out of bars and clubs. You’re only a few blocks away from your apartment but the fatigue of your injuries was starting to set in, your ribs felt like they had been twisted and broken like a wish bone. Stopping and sitting on the edge of the street only a few doors away from a club in which about five to seven drunk college girls stumble out of, one of the more sober members of the group spots you hunched over with blood dripping from the side of your forehead. She grabs someone by the arm and forces a water bottle out of their hand. Now about four girls are standing around you as they help try to clean the blood off you in a half-drunken mess. One girl had cried when you told them you got beat up, the other looked you dead in the eyes and said in a slurred jumble “I will kill them…do you want me to?” this made you laugh as they kept pulling out tissues from their bags and soaked up the blood and water. After they successfully wipe all the blood up and you have tissues sticking to your face like they were glued on, you stood up and gave them a few hugs and the sober one wanted to walk you home but you insisted you would be fine. 

Reaching your apartment you pushed the door open and felt your phone buzz once again. You finally took a look at it as you locked the door and placed your keys down. It was messages and calls from Kate. You put it down and don’t look back at it. Going instead to your bed and flopping onto it like a dead fish. Tonight was not what you had expected. This was the farthest thing from what you had in your mind. 

—

You had called your bosses and told them what happened, taking the next week off after your doctor told you to not work for two weeks due to the concussion you suffered. They understood, your shifts were covered and you were resting now. You stayed at home and barely went out. A few of your friends would take you to the park for a picnic every so often but you’d usually leave early. Your phone would ring around the same time each day. It was Kate. Being too scared to talk with her again you never answered, she would text you as well. It was about ten days into your rest and there was a knock at your door. You checked the peep hole and saw her. Her jet black hair was wavy as she stood there. She was picking at her nails as she waited, she radiated a nervous energy. You hesitated over the door knob. She spoke up through the door “I know you’re home… Marco told me, can we please just talk?” the way she spoke tug on your heart and you slowly opened the door. Not fully, just enough to fit your body in the way. “Marco needs to learn about peoples privacy,” your jab at your boss made her smile. God, you couldn’t say no to her “Come on in…” opening it more and moving out of the way just enough for her to fit through. You locked the door and the two of you slowly walked through your cramped apartment. 

“So… it’s a nice place” you give her a curt nod, you know its small. After seeing how big her place was and learning where she grew up, this was like a closet for her. “Um– do you need some water? Or a coffee?” you adjust the hoodie you were wearing, suddenly you became self conscious of how you looked infront of her. 

“No, I’m okay…” she took a breath “what happened?-” she gestured to your face “if you don’t mind telling me” you lowered your head and cleared your throat. Attempting to avoid her eyes you spoke “I um… -kinda got my ass handed to me” you moved and leaned against your kitchen counter. “What um- what did you want to talk about?” the cold from the countertop helped your sweaty palms as you awaited her response. She looked at you with a mix of emotions and searched your eyes “Kinda thought that maybe the last time we talked would be a good start” 

You dreaded this conversation everytime. You feared it everytime, there was never really any way to get rid of the fear. Sometimes it would lessen over time. “Yeah, I um… I’m trans” she looked at you with slight shock. She had heard you say it before but it was cemented in her mind now. “I don’t care…-I mean I do care, but not like that! Obviously I’m fine with you being a girl and whatever you do to be comfortable and I’ll stick by you through thi–” you cut her off when you heard what she said “Wait, no- I’m sorry I’m not a girl. I’m a man!” she looked at you surprised and her eyes seemed like they would pop out of their eyes. “What?” she thought for a moment before she covered her mouth in horror. “I’m so sorry! Oh my god! I thought-” she was cut off this time by your laughter. This was the first time you had been mistaken for male to female. You couldn’t keep your laughter in. She yelled at you as you doubled over with laughter “Stop it!- You’re such a jerk!” she goes over and hits you lightly, as she does it she slowly starts to laugh too. 

“I just-” she see her laughing and it makes you laugh even more “I never- ooo give me a second-” you grabbed your ribs that were still slightly sore “I never expected this” you held onto each other for support as your reactions became a melting pot of emotions and mixed together. After awhile you both sat on the couch and talked it over. You told her you were fine with any questions she had. She had alot. They weren’t even intrusive, more curious about this side of you. You answered her truthfully and it felt like she was getting to know who you truly were. After a moment of silence you brought up the elephant in the room that seemed to hide behind a tree the entire night. “So, you like me?” You gave her a coy smile and she kept her gaze away from his eyes. “Cuz.. I um- well I think we need to talk about that” a faux humorless expression.

She rolled her eyes and sunk further into your couch. She hid her face from view and spoke through the pillow she was face planted in. You asked her to repeat herself with a playful tone. “I do like you…alot” you smirked at her “what? Come again” she hit you with the pillow and you once again started a small laughing fit as she pelted you. “Ah no! Hatecrime!!! Stop this is trans abuse!” She gasped at you and stopped “Really!? You’re pulling the trans card already!” you nodded at her victoriously. “It’s gonna be a regular occurrence, get ready” you lean in and kiss her lips softly “Because I really like you too… a lot” she smiles and the two of you spent the rest of the night together. Talking, kissing, and just being near each other.

[reveryfics]

I Was Made For Lovin' You

Peter Quill x FtM Reader

Summary: Peter was hopelessly in love with you since you joined the Guardians. Despite your attempts to ignore him, he finally convinces you to dance.

A/N: I never see any Peter Quill with any type of masculine reader, so I offer this. Highly recommend listening to the cover of "I was made for lovin' you" by YungBlud while reading this.

The moment you officially became a Guardian of the Galaxy, two cosmic truths aligned like celestial bodies. First, you’d found a family, a ragtag bunch of misfits who embraced you, quirks and all, in a way your own blood relatives never had. And second, well, the second truth shimmered with the intensity of a supernova: Peter Quill, the self-proclaimed Star-Lord, was head-over-heels, irrevocably smitten with you from the very millisecond his eyes locked onto yours. It was a love story written in the stars, even if he was too stubborn, too adorably dense, to admit it.

He’d sputter denials, of course, a blush creeping up his neck as he vehemently refuted Rocket’s teasing jabs whenever he was caught gazing at you, lost in the constellation of freckles scattered across your nose as you expertly tinkered with the Milano’s engine. He might have tried to play it cool, to maintain that roguish, devil-may-care façade, but it was as transparent as a Kree force field. Everyone saw it: the way his eyes lingered a little too long, the soft smile that played on his lips when you laughed, the way he always seemed to gravitate towards you, like a moth to a particularly dazzling, grease-covered flame. And, of course, there was that one fateful, tequila-fueled night under a canopy of a million shimmering stars, when secrets whispered between you like cosmic winds, and Peter learned everything.

He learned about your journey, your struggles, the ache of feeling like you were always on the outside looking in. He learned about the quiet battles you fought within yourself, the lingering insecurities that clung to you like space dust. He learned about the pain of a family that couldn’t, or wouldn’t, understand. And then, he did something extraordinary. He saw you. Truly saw you, the man you were, the man you were always meant to be. He accepted you, celebrated you, with an open-heartedness that made your soul soar. Perhaps it was his own experience of being an outsider, a human raised among the stars, that gave him such profound empathy. Whatever the reason, his acceptance was a balm to your heart, a validation you had craved for so long.

He knew all your vulnerabilities, the way you sometimes still felt like you were being judged, scrutinized, found wanting. He knew the lingering fear that people didn’t truly see you as a man. But Peter, with his goofy charm and surprisingly insightful heart, always had a way of chasing away the shadows. He’d make a silly joke, or tell a ridiculous story about his own insecurities, and suddenly, the weight on your chest would lighten, the darkness would recede. He had a knack for making you feel seen, truly seen, and loved, just the way you were.

With a sigh, you wiped a smudge of engine grease from your cheek, leaving a dark streak across your skin. Rocket had conscripted you into helping him finish some repairs, and since you had nothing better to do than contemplate the vast emptiness of space and your own complicated feelings, you’d agreed. The ship’s radio hummed with the familiar strains of 70s rock, a comforting blanket of sound that drowned out the rest of the world, including, you thought, Peter, who had wandered into the engine room, ostensibly to check on your progress, but, as always, had remained to simply watch you work.

He leaned against a bulkhead, a soft smile playing on his lips as he took in the sight of you. One of his old t-shirts, ridiculously oversized, hung loosely on your frame, your hair a tousled mess, your hands and face smudged with grime. You were a vision, a beautiful, grease-covered, utterly captivating vision. If hopeless romantic was a person, it would be Peter Quill, standing there, bathed in the dim light of the engine room, his heart overflowing with a love he couldn’t quite articulate.

“Going to stand there and make heart eyes all night?” you chuckled, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth. You plucked a greasy rag from a nearby pile and tossed it playfully at his face.

Peter blinked, startled from his reverie. He cleared his throat, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “I wasn’t…I wasn’t staring,” he stammered, the lie so transparent it was almost endearing.

“Oh, really? Because your face says otherwise,” you countered, raising an eyebrow. “It’s saying, ‘Wow, look at him, so strong, so capable, covered in grime… I’m in love!’” You exaggerated the last part, batting your eyelashes dramatically.

Peter spluttered, his blush deepening. “That’s… that’s not what my face is saying at all,” he insisted, but his voice lacked conviction. He fidgeted, running a hand through his hair, dislodging a stray piece of space dust. “My face is saying… ‘Is that a new kind of… uh… wrench?’” He gestured vaguely at a nearby toolbox, clearly grasping at straws.

You snorted. “A wrench? Seriously, Quill? That’s the best you’ve got?” You leaned closer, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You know, everyone sees it, right? Rocket, Groot, even Drax, who barely understands metaphors, has commented on your ‘intense admiration’ for me.”

Peter groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Okay, okay, you got me,” he mumbled from behind his palms. “I think you’re… pretty cool. And… good at fixing things. And… not repulsive when covered in grease.”

“Wow, high praise indeed,” you deadpanned. Just then, as if the universe itself was conspiring to embarrass Peter further, “I Was Made For Lovin’ You” crackled to life on the ship radio. Peter’s head snapped up as if he’d been electrocuted.

“Oh! This is your favorite song, right?” he exclaimed, his embarrassment momentarily forgotten in his eagerness to change the subject. He pointed at the radio, a little too enthusiastically. “You love this song! Always singing it… terribly, I might add.” He grinned, nudging you playfully.

Before you could retort, Peter grabbed your hand and began to sway, attempting a clumsy dance move. “Come on, let’s dance!” he declared, pulling you towards him.

“Absolutely not,” you said, laughing, but the smile on your face betrayed your true feelings. You knew you couldn’t resist his goofy charm for long. He started chasing you around the cramped engine room, his movements surprisingly agile despite the confined space. You squealed with laughter as he finally cornered you, grabbing your hands and pulling you into a clumsy two-step.

You danced like no one was watching, lost in the music and the moment. Peter’s earlier embarrassment had melted away, replaced by pure joy. As the song reached its crescendo, you leaned in and kissed him.

His eyes widened in surprise for a split second, but then he kissed you back, his hand tightening around yours. When you finally broke apart, breathless and grinning, he leaned his forehead against yours.

“I was made for lovin’ you,” he sang, his voice a little shaky, a little off-key, but full of genuine emotion.

You laughed, echoing the lyrics, equally terrible but equally sincere.

“So,” Peter said, after a beat of comfortable silence, “does this mean we’re… you know… boyfriend and boyfriend now?”

You grinned, leaning in for another kiss. “Yeah, Quill,” you whispered against his lips. “Yeah, it does.”

[prettybrownelf]

i saw you were looking for requests a few months back and if you still are i love your bucky fics and just want anything else bucky x masc reader because i feel like hardly anyone writes them!! maybe otk spanking involved? 👀

Brat Taming

Non MLM/NBLM DNI

Pairings- Bucky Barnes x FTM! Reader

Summary- You and Bucky have a small argument in the kitchen. he thinks you need a lesson

Word Count- 1178

Content Warnings- AFAB Genitalia, OTK Spanking, Degradation, Praise, Overstimulation, Aftercare

You wouldn't say your a brat. Brat is too strong of a word. Your just a bit head-strong and…stubborn.

Bucky would say otherwise. He’d say your a brat who likes to make him mad for your own enjoyment.

Thats how this argument in the kitchen started.

“I’m not a brat, Buck. You just dont like being told no.” You’d been cleaning the kitchen when Bucky decided to confront you about ‘how you’ve been acting’.

Bucky rolls his eyes as he stays leaning against the kitchen counter, watching your every move as you clean. “Its not that. You’ve been leaving me on read, giving me the cold shoulder, your being a brat and you know it.” Bucky’s gruff voice sends a tiny shiver up your spine as you keep your back to him. “Oh, so your mad cause your not my center of attention?” He rolls his eyes at you as he moves next to your side. “Thats not it and you know it. I dont need attention.”

A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you casually walk your way to the couch, Bucky following close behind. “Sure you dont, Buck. Thats why you follow me around like a puppy.” You can feel Bucky’s glare on the back of your head as you sit on the couch. “Im not a puppy.” Bucky snarls.

You try to stifle your giggle as Bucky sits next to you, huffing and puffing. “Quit huffing.” You manage to get out. Bucky rolls his eyes as he looks over at the tv, his words a muttered breath. “I should teach you lesson.”

Your ears perk up.

“What was that, Buck?” Testing Bucky’s patience is a fun pass time, especially when hes like this. Bucky’s eyes immediately snap to your face, his voice hasn't lost its gruff as he speaks. “I said i should teach you a lesson.” A smirk crawls to your face as you playfully try to crawl into Bucky’s lap.

Before you can speak your words are cut off by Bucky’s strong arms pushing you down, your stomach lays over his legs, your knees digging into the couch cushion below you. Trying to push yourself up fails as Bucky pushes you back down, your arms laying next to your head. Bucky’s voice sends a wave of heat into your lower stomach as you feel his rough, calloused hand softly circle your back.

“If you wanna be a brat, i’ll treat you like a brat.” Shivers run over your body as Bucky ever so slowly slips your pants off. You try to move your head to see what hes doing, only to have Bucky roughly push your head back into the couch. “Stay still.” He growls.

The air is still for what feels like forever. Your about to say something when a stinging slap hits your ass. The breath in your lungs suddenly disappears as you try to take in the shock in your body.

Bucky, however, doesn’t give you much time to recover, as he bring his hand back down. A small whine comes out of your throat from the pain, though you cant deny the bit of pleasure beginning to rise more and more. “You wanna be a fucking brat?” Bucky’s rough voice tickles the skin of your ear as he whispers to you, bringing his hand back down. “Ill show you what happens to a fucking brat.” Your breathing gets faster as Bucky continues to spank you. Tiny tears form in your eyes as your grip on the couch tightens.

A small chuckle from Bucky sends an embarrassed heat to your face. “Aww, is my little brat okay?” Bucky asks, sarcasm dripping off every word as he slams his hand back down, harder this time. “Maybe i should be rougher so your learn your lesson.” He says, a small smirk on his face.

All you can do is whine out small pleas and moans, feeling your ass getting more and more red.

After a few moments, the air stills. The feeling of Bucky’s hand softly rubbing your bruised, red skin makes your relax a bit, enjoying the feeling of being touched like this.

Bucky’s soft movements continue as he leans back down to your ear. “Color, baby?” Your voice is a bit hoarse, but you manage to get out a small “Green.” Making Bucky smile.

You feel Bucky slowly move your legs so your in the doggy position. Bucky’s voice is still soft as he rubs your red skin. “You look so handsome like this, puppy.”

A small mewl falls from your tongue at the pet name as you hear Bucky pull the zipper of his jeans down. You cant help but arch your back, pressing your now red ass against Bucky’s hips. His chuckle can be heard from behind you as you feel him gently rub your stinging skin, massaging it gently as he slowly slides his tip against your dripping cunt.

You feel his hand move from your ass to your hip, gripping tightly as he suddenly thrusts into you. The moan that comes out of your mouth is loud, loud enough for bucky to slam your face into the couch. “Keep that pretty voice down, pup, or do you want the neighbors to know your a little slut?” All you can do is whine into the cushions as Bucky continues to move his hips. You feel him hit a specific spot inside you, making your legs ark slightly. His grip on your hip gets tighter as he somehow manages to speed up, making small tears of pleasure form in the corner of your eyes.

The feeling of Bucky slamming against your body with his own is making your brain turn to mush as you feel yourself suddenly sum. Eyes rolled back, your legs shaking, Bucky doesn’t stop. Instead, he slams into you even harder bending over so he can prop himself up with one hand and reach his other hand under your trembles, moaning body.

One of Bucky’s rough fingers finds your clit, matching pace with his hips as he rubs circles around the sensitive bud. Bucky’s voice whispering in your ear isn't helping your oncoming second orgasm at either. As you grip the cushions and moan loudly under him, his breath tickles your ear.

“You look so good like this, puppy. Trembling like a little bitch under me.” Bucky’s pace begins to slow to a deep, rhythmic thrust. Your breathing is finally able to return to somewhat normal as Bucky continues to whisper in your ear, his finger continuing to circle around your clit.

He leaves small pecks on your neck as his voice continues to whisper small praises in your ear. your legs tremble beneath you as your eyes slowly roll back again. Bucky’s motions dont stop as he helps you through your orgasm. His low voice makes your face hot. “Such a good boy.” Bucky gives a small smile as he kisses your forehead tenderly. His strong arms wrap around your body as he moves you to lay on his chest, gently rubbing your back.

[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.

[2kiran]

18+ FTM!LOGAN H. X M!READER | AFAB TERMS USED

There’s no doubt that LOGAN HOWLETT is a certified brat. If you think work is the only thing that gives you stress on a daily, you’re nothing but wrong. He likes to act out; suggestively bending over in front of you, standing too near, roaming his hands needily—all of it. He’s similar to a feisty cat, one that demands high maintenance.

He should’ve predicted it. Should’ve known your restraint would crumble the second he retorted a bit too bitchy, too offensive.

You have LOGAN sitting on your lap, both of you facing the mirror, devoting to memory at how his pretty hole continued to drool arousal as it’s stretched open on your cock. His thighs are quivering, one hand of his clinging onto your nape, and yet he won’t take the fucking hint. “This all ye’got for me?” He grinds his hips down to envelop you in deeper with a tongue-twisted gasp.

His sloppy walls are gripping you tightly, wetly squeezing around your equally leaky length. His clit aches, yearning for the attention he’s dumbly convinced he’s entitled to receive. He reaches for it, meeting your gaze through the mirror. Oh fuck, that heated look he catches - that you gave him, makes his entrance weep of pre.

You slap LOGAN’S hand away, gifting your ears with his objecting whine. “R-really, yer gonna deny me? You ain’t even doing shit.” He’s about to expand on his complaint, tell you how cruel of a man you are, until he’s met with two of your fingers pulling the hood of his nub back. Your other hand pries his thigh wider, the pad of your middle digit directly applying pressure on his clit. He cries out, his attention beginning to fade away from the lewd scene painted on glass as his thighs attempt to lock around your hand.

You don’t give him the time to process anything. Your wrist rocks, roughly sliding your finger up and down. You feel him clench around your length, and you have to remind yourself that you have to resist the urge to pound the attitude out of his system.

“Mfnnnngh! It’s too much!” LOGAN wails, getting wetter and wetter. Slick graces his inner legs, a climax building low within his belly. He leans forward, a fruitless intention on running, really. “Gonna make you cum on my cock first,” you dismiss, pressing down on the glans before rubbing circles. You twitch inside, and he thinks his heightened senses are both a blessing and a curse.

“and then I’ll fuck you.” Continuing on, your pace increased. Wetness pooled on your finger, the sight making you impossibly harder. The intoxicating pull of submission encompasses LOGAN HOWLETT as he listens to you talk. It has him regretting his behavior towards you, a whimper passing through his lips. His mouth falls agape with a silent scream, suddenly creaming on your fat cock because it’s the only ‘sorry’ he’s willing to give you.

[l1tw1ck]

Sponsored by Stark

Dom!Bottom!Tony x Sub!Top!Masc Virgin Reader

☆ Word Count: 1,358 ☆

AFAB Language Used | Event Request

CW: Dubious Consent, Age Difference, Daddy Kink, Overstimulation, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Semi-Public Sex,

After retiring from hero work, Tony opened up an academy to teach hopeful heroes, tech lovers, and future entrepreneurs. The academy teaches students starting from age 14 and above. It's a combination of high school and college. There are a lot of campuses all over New York. You finished high school in Midtown High and applied to join the academy. Tony loved your application so much that he awarded you with a special scholarship. It’s only granted to one person every four years. After your first meeting with him, he offered to buy you dinner. You didn't think it was strange. Why would it be?

You look up at Tony with an anxiety filled and hesitantly lustful gaze. He came onto you during dinner and you were afraid you’d lose your scholarship if you denied him. You were also afraid you'd seriously regret giving up the chance to fuck him. So now you're staring at his pussy as he grinds down on your clothed cock. His t-dick is poking out of his bush of hair and the sight makes you worry you’ll come too early.

“Don't worry about getting a job anymore. I’ll pay for everything you need.” He rolls his head back. “Gonna get you a credit card..use it whenever.”

You feel more like a prostitute than a scholarship student.

“Fuck…ever been with an older guy before?” He asks. You can't deny that he looks so fucking sexy like this. The way he's rubbing his pussy on your boner is definitely helping you forget why you were nervous in the first place. Your underwear is drenched with his slick. It's undeniably hot.

“Never…with anyone.”

“Yeah?” He breathes out. “Good. I’ll take the lead.” He stops and leans into your neck, sloppily kissing it and as he removes your boxers. He moves away from your face and leans his body closer to your cock. He points at the part of his stomach where the tip of your cock is. “That's how deep you’ll be inside me.”

He grips your shoulders and hovers over your cock. You gulp. He sinks himself down onto your length, a confident smirk plastered on his face.

“I haven’t done it in so long–” He moans as you completely fill him up, his back arched. He rolls his hips and strokes his t-dick. Seeing a guy like him use you like a toy is too hot for your own good. You never knew you were into this kind of thing. You could probably come just like this. You’ll try not to though, it wouldn't turn out well if you got him pregnant. “You want me to move, baby?”

“I…I wanna see you come first.”

“If that's what you want.” He strokes himself harder. Your heart is racing. You can feel it as he reaches his peak. His cunt is giving you nice, wet hugs. He rolls his head back, his pussy seizing its movements for a moment before resuming. He squirts, his slick covering your face. You lick your lips. You’ve been able to stop yourself from coming this whole time but you're not sure how much longer you’ll last.

He grinds down on you and moves his hand away from his sensitive cock. After a while, he eventually starts riding you. You don't think you’ll be able to last.

“Wa- wait- wait—” You panic. “I’m- I think–”

“It's okay, sweetheart.” He keeps bouncing. “I can't get pregnant.”

You would let out a long sigh of relief if it weren't for your sudden orgasm. You bite down on your lip as he keeps going despite that. It feels good and insanely overwhelming. You can't believe you just came inside Tony fucking Stark. “‘s too- too much-” You moan.

“I’m not satisfied yet. You’ll let Daddy keep bouncing on your cock, won't you, baby?”

You nod. “Ye- yes-”

“Good boy~” He lets out a satisfied sigh. “Letting Daddy use you like a cute little toy.” He loves the way your body is reacting. You're so inexperienced and sensitive, he knows he’ll have a lot of fun with you. He’s glad he changed careers. You stare at your cum spilling out with each thrust. It's so erotic you feel like you're gonna pass out.

Tony notices the subject of your gaze. “You like that? How your cum drips out of my pussy? Hm?” He grins. “Wanna keep filling me up, baby?”

You nod rapidly. “Yes- yes, Daddy-”

His body stutters as he comes again. He stops, his walls flexing around your cock again. Tony leans into your ear. “You know what a mating press is?” He asks.

You shudder. “Ye- yeah-” You grab his waist and manage to flip yourselves over. Sweat drips down your forehead as you grab Tony’s thighs. You move him into position and just looking at him like this makes you come again. Your cock starts to soften. “Sorry-”

“‘S okay, baby. It's cute.” He laughs. “We can keep working on your endurance another time.”

You walk into Tony’s office, wearing an outfit he bought for you. As he stands up, you notice his belt is unbuckled and his pants are unzipped. He leans against the wall and you instantly make your way over to him.

“I’ve been waiting for you all day.” His hands slither onto your shoulders, his soft lips graze your ear. “I couldn’t stop touching myself. I had to cancel my meeting this afternoon.”

Your breath hitches.

“Are you gonna help me, sweetheart?”

“Yeah-” You watch him pull away from you and remove his pants and underwear. He shows the damp spot in his white boxers to you. You're already hard. He motions for you to kneel, making you feel like a dog. You look at his pussy eagerly, excited to see it up close. You already know what he wants you to do.

You wrap your lips around his t-cock and suck it.

“Yes~ like that, baby-” He shivers. You slip two fingers inside him, one at a time, and try your best to finger him properly. Your mouth on his cock is more than enough to distract him from your noob-ness. He doesn't seem to care about the amount of noise he's making either. Given his personality, you don't feel any anxiety over it. No one would dare enter his office when they hear him. “Fuck, right there~!” His hip thrusts involuntarily. You managed to find his g-spot. You do your best to pleasure him with it and by the sound of his voice and the clenching you feel around your fingers, you know you're doing a good job.

“Yes– yes—!” He squirts. This time you get to really taste him. You slowly move your head back, a line of spit connecting you to his cock, then lap your tongue all over his pussy. Tony twitches with pleasure.

You stop, then look at him like a puppy awaiting orders. He curls his index and middle finger, signifying that he wants you to stand up. He quickly frees your boner from your pants. “I still have one more meeting today.” He takes your wrists and has you hold onto his waist. He mouths ‘hold me’ so you pick him up. “But since you come so fast, I’ll let you fuck me.”

You press your forehead onto his shoulder. “Thank you-” You breathe out, sinking into his cunt. “You- you feel so good, Daddy-” He's sopping wet.

Tony wraps his arms around you as you sloppily thrust inside him. Your desperation turns him on so much.

“Can I- fuck- can I come inside?”

“Mhm~” He hums. “‘M gonna keep it inside. Walk around with your cum in me.”

You shudder, your cock shooting ropes of cum inside him. His laugh is breathless and lustful. “You're too cute.” He smiles as you bring him to his desk, laying him in a way to prevent your cum from spilling out as well as you can. You grab his boxers and slip them onto him.

You watch as he stands up and fixes himself up to look presentable. “I’ll see you tonight.” He winks, leaving the room.

[mlm-writer]

Aftertaste (Eddie & Venom x GN!Reader)

Pairing:  Eddie Brock & Venom x Gender Neutral Bottom Reader Rating: Mature for discussion of sex Words: 918 POV: Second Summary: After some kinky sex (<- click for the prequel), Eddie and Venom take care of you. Oh and Eddie experiences some mild dom drop. Note: Guess who's back? Back again? Gayden's back! Tell a friend! Tags: aftercare, dom drop, hurt & comfort, cuddling, could be read as romantic, could be read as you're fwb and reader's physical appearance is not described

A trail of cum connected the corner of your mouth with the puddle of cum on the tiles below your cheek. At the start of the evening, those tiles had been cold, but underneath you they have been warmed by your spent body. With the post-orgasm bliss fading into the background, you started noticing the soreness settling in your muscles. A warm hand gentle pushed your hair to the side and out of your eyes. In the dim light, you could see warm, concerned eyes staring down at you. “Are you with me?” Eddie spoke between laboured breaths. You licked his cum off the corner of your lips and smiled at him. “Good,” he added when he understood your non-verbal signal. He seemed relieved, smiling down at you with awe and surprise. 

Seemingly out of nowhere, a towel appeared next to Eddie. However you could still spot the black tendril holding it up by a corner. Eddie took it and folded it up. He lifted your head and wiped your face with one side, before placing it under your face with the other side up. You could feel wet tendrils squeezing between your skin and all the duct tape restricting your movement. The sticky tape came off easily with Venom’s gentle wriggling, leaving no redness on your skin nor taking any hairs from your flesh. Once freed, you stretched your legs out, ending up face down on the floor. “That can’t be comfortable,” Eddie commented. 

“Let us carry you to the couch,” Venom softly mused in your ear. You hummed in reply, bracing yourself. Eddie and Venom merged into one and Eddie’s warm hands wormed their way under your body. He rolled you over and then carried you bridal style to the couch, where a blanket was already waiting for you. Venom’s tendrils wrapped the old fleece blanket around your bodies, protecting you from the chill in the apartment. “You must drink,” the symbiote commanded. He materialised another appendage to somehow make grabbing a glass of water a very perilous and loud endeavour. You thanked him when he eventually got the glass to you. You meant to sip on it, but in just a few seconds, the glass was empty. Venom put the empty glass on the coffee table for you. “Are you feeling satisfied now?” 

You chuckled at Venom’s word choice. “Very much so, Venom. Thank you.” You rested your head on Eddie’s shoulder. “What about the two of you?” Your question was met with a long pause. “Eddie?” You twisted your neck to look at his face. He was clearly thinking of something, but whatever that brain was cooking up, he was not sharing it with you at the moment. 

“Eddie, why are we feeling… guilty?” Venom’s voice was unusually small. It must be bad to affect Venom this much. You reached back, scratching gently at his scalp. Now you were paying attention, you could feel how tense Eddie’s muscles were under you. 

“Talk to me, Eddie,” you whispered as you moved underneath the blanket to straddle his lap. He avoided your eyes at first, but your hand resting at the back of his neck got him comfortable enough to really look at you. It felt like he was staring into your soul for the answers to questions he didn’t dare ask. He took a deep breath, before finally speaking up. 

“You really liked…” He waved his hand in the air as he tried to formulate words that were family-friendly enough that he could get them out of his mouth. That man fucking you within an inch of your life was nowhere to be found. “You liked us going back and forth, right? Like actually, for real?” He looked at you through his lashes. You huffed out a relieved augh and nodded eagerly. “Okay… okay good,” he huskily spoke between weighted breaths. 

You cupped his face and made him look at you. “Hey, Eddie, look at me.” You exaggerated your breathing, showing him slow, deep breaths. Eddie followed suit, following your breathing pattern. “Good boy,” you teased him once he no longer seemed like he was going to crawl out of his own skin and hide in the corner. You kissed his nose and caressed his face. “If I think too much about it, yeah the going back and forth was fucking filthy, but that kind of made it hot? And there is nothing wrong with that.” Eddie seemed to agree with you. A few deep breaths and he could nod more confidently. You leaned against his body, resting your head on his shoulder. You stayed like that for a while, until you thought too much about the wild sex you just had. “Ok, I am ready to brush my teeth now and gargle some mouthwash.” 

Eddie chuckled and helped free you from the fleece blanket. “Need any help?” He offered as he watched you stand up. There was dried cum on your body, your skin still glistening with sweat and your hair a wild mess. He wanted to burn that image in his mind. 

You looked at him over your shoulder and cocked up an eyebrow. “Why? Think I don’t know how a toothbrush works?” When you saw how your words pulled Eddie from his trance, you chuckled. He opened his mouth to probably tell you that was not what he meant, but your smile told him you knew. You shook your head in amusement and left Eddie on the couch. “See you space cowboy.” 

—————

REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR FANFIC WRITERS

Likes do not help exposure! A comment in tags or replies can prevent writer's block, even if the work is a decade old (not that I have works on here that are that old)!

[notyourhetloki]

Can I request Wade and Logan/reader breeding kink? 👉👈 both of them too excited about it and competitive? (Can you make reader gender neutral (he/him or they/them or trans ftm (he/him), you can use any terms for genitals and stuff it's ok)

into it (Logan x Reader x Wade)

Reader: he/him (ftm)

/NSFW Logan x Reader x Wade/

A/N: Fuuck I had so much fun writing this, anon! It's a bit short but it's pure porn so I hope you still end up satisfied lol (also sorry about the random gif, I couldn't find a more suiting one lmao). Anyway, hope you like it! xoxo

Tags: ftm reader (reader has a vagina), breeding kink, creampie, they both fuck you, Wade being a fucking joke, Logan is not having it, piv sex (unprotected), porn without plot.

Word Count: 908

—

As soon as you walked through the front door, they were all up in your personal space. Wade and Logan promptly started to take your clothes off, not exactly caring about being gentle.

"Boys! Calm down, there's plenty of me for the both of you!" You tried appeasing, but to no avail.

"And yet is nearly not enough." Groaned Logan, ripping your underwear off with his bare hands. You gasped as his fingers immediately found your sex, rubbing your clit while Wade kissed your neck.

"Sorry about that, doll. We'll buy you another one." Wade whispered into your ear, taking you by the hand and convincing Logan to continue things in the bedroom.

You were basically thrown onto the bed, naked and vulnerable and super turned on. You could already see their hard bulges before they started to take their own clothes off.

"On all fours for us." Ordered Logan, and you gladly obliged. "Attaboy..."

After all their clothes were out, Logan started positioning himself behind you until you heard Wade complain.

"Wait a minute, mutton chops! Why do you think you get to go first?" Wade pointed out.

"Because I can and I will." Logan retorted impatiently, giving your ass a light squeeze.

"Nuh-uh! That ain't fair! I propose a rock-paper-scissors to sort things out, nothing fairer than that." Said Wade holding a closed fist out.

"Fucking hell, fine!" Logan agreed and quickly started the game. They finished the round and Logan played scissors, while Wade played paper.

"Best out of three?" Begged Wade, but the other man didn't care for it.

"Fuck off." Logan pushed Wade aside and started positioning himself again, putting the tip of his cock at your entrance.

You were really wet, so it didn't hurt when he slammed into you. You were full, stuffed to the brim, and you thought it couldn't get any better than that... until Logan began thrusting into you, hitting a sweet spot inside that made you cry out in pleasure.

"Let us hear those sweet sounds you make, boy." Logan said while fucking you. He breathed loudly, grunting and grabbing you at the hips with enough force to bruise. The sounds you made together were obscene, and that turned Wade on even more.

"Gosh... fuck him silly, Wolvie." Wade was jacking himself off, looking closely at Logan's dick in and out of you. "Cum inside him..."

Logan groaned again, more urgent than before. A sudden thought took over him, and he needed to let it out. "I'm gonna breed you, (y/n). I'm gonna fill you up so good... fuck, fill you up with my seed."

"Goddamn!" Said a surprised Wade, not expecting the other man to be so earnest. "That's so fucking dirty... I love it."

"Ah, yes! Please..." You moaned, feeling energy and heat through your whole body. You were being used by him, your body only an object... it turned you on so damn much.

Logan's thrusts began to get even more rough, he was fucking you hard and the sounds he made were animalistic. Soon he turned erratic, his hips faltering in the rhythm he had set. You knew he was close.

He came with a loud grunt, holding you for dear life. Breathing deeply through his gritted teeth, Logan recovered and slowly took his member out of you. A bit of cum dripped from your entrance, and Wade observed everything with a delighted expression.

"I bet I can cum even more in his pussy..." He whispered mostly to himself, but you both heard him.

"You wanna bet, bub?" Said Logan with a satisfied smile on his face. What doesn't a good fuck does to one man's humor?

"Hell yeah, peanut." Wade soon replaced the other man's position and unlike Logan, asked for your approval. "You alright, gorgeous?"

"Y-Yeah... please, give it to me." You moaned as you felt his cock entering you, stuffing you up again.

Wade was a bit gentler with his hands, grabbing you thoughtfully at the places you weren't bruised. But his rhythm... he was still a beast.

"Fuuuck, you feel so good, pretty boy." He moaned, not stopping for a second.

"Hmm, Wade... Logan... ah!" You couldn't stop making noises and calling out for them, dumb with the feeling of being full.

"Good job, sugar... you're being so good for us." Said Logan while standing beside you, watching as Wade pounded into you with great enthusiasm.

"Shit, I'm close... I'll cum inside your pretty cunt, (y/n)." Wade gripped you even harder and finally slammed his hips into you, his climax followed by a deep moan.

He took a few breaths and slowly came back to earth, removing himself from you with a pop. Even more cum oozed from inside you, a beautiful and sexy sight for the both of them.

"As my partner here mentioned earlier... consider yourself 'bred'." Wade taunted, giving a final slap on your ass and retreating himself to put an arm over Logan's shoulder. "Sooo... about that bet, what is my prize?"

You laughed as you laid on your back to watch them both, exhausted but completely satisfied.

Logan suddenly grabbed Wade by his balls, looking him in the eyes. "You get to keep all of your blood inside your body today, sounds good?"

Wade responded in a higher octave, nodding his head and still holding Logan's shoulders. "Ouchie! So rough!" Logan let him go, but Wade only got closer. "You're lucky I'm into it."

—

[kortsitron]

Insecurity

✮ PARING Loki Laufeyson × Trans Male! Reader

✮ WARNINGS/TAGS fluff, body dysmorphia, insecurity, comfort, body worship, mention of gender dysphoria, established relationship, jotun! loki, reassurance, soft fic, spicy but no smut, bottom! loki

✮ SUMMARY Loki was always insecure of his body and you're here to show that you love him regardless 

✮ A/N This honestly came randomly to me while taking a look at Loki's design in Marvel Rivals. I was so confused as to why he would have so much armor/clothing. Not only do we get a glimpse of his skin only on his face but he also seems to be wearing a lot of layers too. And then I remember he is a Frost Giant and then I could understand if he perhaps had some kind of insecurity because of that, after all it would make a lot of sense. So that's why here's the fic because Loki deserves all the comfort and love he can get <3

ao3 masterlist requests

Ever since you started dating Loki, you had never seemed naked. Never. 

You weren't going to make him undress if he clearly wasn't comfortable with it. You just accepted that he wasn’t comfortable with showing his body and you decided not to press in the issue. Even though you honestly wanted to.

You wanted to know what was going with your partner. Why was he hiding his body from you? He knew he could trust you, right?

You found him lying in bed, reading some Asgardian book while the lamp from the nightstand eliminated his sharp features. Whenever he was reading, he had a small frown on his forehead, so focused on the contents of the book. This time was no different.

You laid down next to him, watching as he was engrossed by the book, silently admiring him. The way his gorgeous green eyes were entranced by the words before him or the way his raven black hair had fallen onto his shoulders. Or they way he would quietly lick his lips without even noticing it.

But he turned to look at you, his hand putting the bookmark inside his book before closing it. “Are you bored, my darling?” He asked with a soft expression before putting away the book, his chilly fingers moving against your forehead to push the strands of your hair back where they belong.

You shook his head, Loki tilted his. “Then what is it? You look as if you require some attention.” His hand moved to cheek, gently caressing it.

“I was just wondering…” You spoke up and he hummed in response.

“Wondering, you say? Perhaps we can wonder together.” His tone was soft and encouraging. It made you even more nervous to ask.

“Why do you always… hide your body so much?” The words finally left your lips and your mind. You had been wondering for so long and now you wondered what kind of answer you were going to get. Was he going to lie to you?

Loki's smile fell almost instantly when he heard your question. His hand stopped its motions as he thought about how to answer you without revealing too much.

You saw the flash of fear in his eyes. “I-I do not…” He wanted to disagree, say you're imagining things or anything else to not have this conversation. But he knew he could not hide the truth from you. You were telling him everything, all your troubles. It was not right for him to hide something when he knew he could trust you.

He looked deep into your eyes as if searching for any reason why he should not share his insecurities with you. Any reason to have an excuse to not have this conversation. But he found none. 

Loki let out a sigh. “I do not feel good about my own body…” He finally admitted, and you were not sure what to say. In Loki's mind, the silence was stretching for hours, even though it was actually just a few seconds.

“I must–” He moved to stand up, leave the bed and you. He was scared you were judging him, even though he normally knew you would never.

You grabbed his wrist gently, stopping him from leaving. “No, Loki. Please, let's talk.” He saw the pleading expression on your face, how much you wanted to help him, make him feel okay.

He sat back down, his hand grabbed yours as he was seeking your reassurance and support. He couldn't find the strength to look into your eyes as looked down at your hand. 

“Ever since I found out I was a Frost Giant, I couldn't… I did not want anyone to see my body anymore. Especially knowing how Thor and Odin used to hate Jotunheim and its people.” He explained taking a small breath and continuing.

“Even despite the fact that I know neither of them hate Jotuns anymore, I… couldn't help but hate that I was not one of them… not a true Asgardian like everyone around. How I could not fit it, always feeling like there was something wrong about me and I couldn't understand why.”

He finally looked up at you, so miserable and hurt. You knew he was Frost Giant, he told you so yourself and you never minded. But you didn't think it would be a reason for his insecurity.

“You're still the most gorgeous person in my eyes. And that won't change, that I can promise you.” You let go of his hand to cup his face. He leaned into your touch, leaning a soft kiss to your palm.

“Would you let me show you how much I adore you?” Your time was soft and the question caught Loki off guard.

Once more, he wanted to disagree. But at the same time, the thought of you showing how much you adored him sent a shiver down his spine.

“Yes, please.” His tone was a little husky, his eyes watching you, awaiting for what you were going to do.

You let go of his face, he was already missing your touch. Your hands moved to his shoulders, wanting to take off his robe. Your eyes found his, watching for any sign that you should stop. But you didn't, you only found anticipation.

You slowly slide the robe down his shoulders, his pale skin revealed to your eyes. His breathing hitched, he felt watched, but not judged.

“You're so pretty…” You whispered, wanting to reassure him. He felt so cold, but not in an unpleasant way. You saw him shiver beneath your touch and you smiled softly.

As his robe was finally off, you gently pushed him back on his. Your hand slided down his chest as you decided to speak up.

“I know how it feels when you're not happy with your body. Feeling how your body does not feel right, hiding it because you don't want anyone to see it.” You said softly. Loki needed to know he wasn't alone.

Loki's hands moved to your waist, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know, my darling. I'm glad to know I am not alone.” One of his hands moved to the back of your head, pulling you closer.

“Kiss me, dearest…” He whispered before your lips met his in a slow, gentle kiss.

As the two of you kissed, you felt something under your fingers and as your eyes fluttered open, you saw Loki in his true form.

Blue skin with some lighter marks and lines, and the most beautiful crimson eyes you've ever seen.

“Wow…” You whispered, eyes widening as you took in the view. He was lovely and perfect just the way he was.

“I hope the view is to your liking.” His voice was quiet, with a hint of insecurity.

You let out a soft chuckle. “It is to my liking. As you are as a whole.” Leaning down, you kissed his neck, a soft whimper falling from Loki's lips. And you slowly went down. You kept kissing him, giving him little appreciative touches here and there. You saw how he was letting go, relaxing under your touch. 

You could practically feel him melt under your touches and kisses. His soft, cold skin felt so perfect under your lips. Whimpers and soft moans falling from his lips, along with your name. He kept repeating it almost as if it was a prayer.

“Don't stop, my love…” He breathed out, his fingers tangling itself in your hair. 

“I am not playing on doing so…” Another soft moan escaped his lips as you said that, kissing down his stomach. It was going to be a very long night.

[urween]

Bloody Lamb | Bucky Barnes x ftm!reader | english version

summary: Bucky would never have imagined that his neighbor was carrying a heavy load on his shoulders. However, he discovers scars on the latter, and thus his vision changes radically.

notes: the temporality is located in a mix of beginning and end of FATWS series; reader operated on the torso

⚠︎ warnings: strong mention/description of mutilation and scars, mention of dysphoria, traumas linked to Hydra

special thanks and credits to @sparrow-the-tired-lesbian who nicely helped me with this story's translation because it was originally written in french, my native language.

french version here

- 1 804 words - 2nd person description

You were just next-door neighbors. He knew you by sight, knew how to define your silhouette and your height, as he could do with his other neighbors. Maybe he also recognized your voice when it echoed in the common corridor, like when Mrs. Jones shouted at her cats running away on the landing. He knew you without knowing you, that fine line that separated so many things and that was not held by anything. Maybe an insistent look from you would turn the weather vane, maybe not. But he knew all his neighbors because whether he wanted to or not he retained the information that emerged from individuals. A soldier had to be able to identify his victims in a crowd. He kept marks, more or less deep cracks that interfered with his daily life. If he hadn’t been the Winter Soldier, surely his mind would never have noticed Mrs. Jones’ slight limp, the smell that came out of Larry’s every Tuesday night, or the particular timbre of your voice. But he did it with everyone, you weren’t special. It would have been special if he could recognize the shoes you wore based on the wet marks left on your soles, the habit you had of always putting your cell phone in your left pocket, or the song you’d been listening to on repeat for the past few days. Then, you would have been special. More than a neighbor on the landing, you could have been his little obsession, the main object of a tease from his friend Sam for example. But that wasn’t the case until now.

“I’m lucky to have you,” the old man murmured.

Yori Nakajima was the neighbor you got along with best. Funny, sweet, and welcoming, you immediately felt at ease with him. Brooklyn was a big city and you had only been here for a short time, so Yori had helped you get familiar with the surroundings. In exchange, you would go see him once or twice a week. You talked most of the time, he would tell you about his youth and the kindness of his late son, and sometimes he would even teach you how to play Go.

"You have more and more fans," you smiled, pointing to a bouquet in the corner of the living room.

As he had done with you, Nakajima often helped young people who were a little lost. He gave them the support they needed so that they could then explore the city on their own. Over the years, he ended up having a small reputation in the neighborhood, and many of his old friends still came to visit him.

"These are irises, my favorite," he explained to you, "a neighbor brought me some this morning."

You leaned over to the coffee table to pour yourself some more tea. The wafting scent of the flowers reached you as you let your back rest against the back of the chair again.

"I thought you had a girlfriend."

Yori chuckled as much as his great age allowed him, nodding to thank you for the tea.

"I'm quite alone, and you and the others keep me company," he confided to you before changing the subject, "but I had an idea about that."

You saw the question coming before the old man could even open his mouth again.

"No, no lovers for me Yori, I already told you," you sighed with a smile.

"You're going off on a tangent right away, who told you I was going to talk about love?” He explained to get your attention again, “I simply think it would be good for you to make friends, and the young man I'm talking about would be a great match for you."

He had been trying for two or three weeks to get you to meet new people because according to him you were too lonely. However, you had explained to him the reasons for this social distancing, he had understood, while suffering too. But he said that time always healed wounds and smoothed out the deep cracks, that you had to open yourself up to life to enjoy it. You understood that, really, but the stability you had finally managed to find couldn't be destroyed, you didn't want to have to rebuild everything.

“You two look a lot alike,” Yori’s wise voice echoed one last time, “hiding in your burrows.”

They weren't fluorescent, or noisy. They didn't attract attention, going unnoticed. Yet one glance at them and the decibels in the room exploded for you. In the past, you would never have imagined that scars could be so talkative. But they were, they proudly recounted their heavy sorrows to remind you that nothing was ever acquired. Everything could disappear overnight, everything could collapse in a fraction of a second. One wrong step, and you would fall back. The wrong person and all your efforts would be reduced to nothing. Living alone wasn't easy every day, but this way you avoided mistakes. No one could predict the reaction of a stranger, while yours was controllable. You knew what not to do, not to mention, the others didn't know it and by the time they understood it could already be too late.

Yori knew about your operation, he knew that you had two beautiful scars on your chest, but it had taken time. It had taken you time. The old man didn't know more, he guessed the darkness that you kept to yourself but he knew someone else in your case, and talking about it didn't always help. Other people knew about your trans identity, you couldn't hide it and you didn't want to anyway. But it remained there, no one went beyond that barrier.

It had also taken you time to let your other scars out in the open. But you quickly realized that no one noticed them. They weren't fluorescent or noisy to them. Hidden on your thighs, dull enough that a curious eye would simply think they were stretch marks. Who would have paid attention? For this reason, you could once again appreciate any clothing revealing these marks. You could wear a simple t-shirt or sweatshirt as pajamas with boxers, and take out the trash in this outfit. You rarely ran into anyone, and even if you did, they didn't pay attention.

However, you didn't expect to come face-to-face with your neighbor on the landing. A man – quite attractive, it had to be admitted – about your age who had a mysterious aura around him since you arrived, as well as gloves. You suspected Yori of wanting to set you up with him, that it was the famous "young man with irises". He came to see your friend very often, you had even crossed paths with them at the bar downstairs from your place the other day. Barnes, that was his name, you had read it on the mailbox next to yours. You didn't know anything more about him and it had never bothered you.

"Good evening,” your neighbor's grainy voice echoed.

You smiled at him, murmuring a polite formula in return, as the rules of society required. With your trash bag in hand, you opened the brown storage lid before throwing your waste in. You didn't expect anything else, there was nothing more to expect, you didn't know each other. So you turned around, smiling at him kindly before closing the exterior door of the building.

But he didn't move, his eyes fixed on the void that a few seconds before had been filled by your thighs. You had scars.

Overnight, you became special. He recognized your footprints, your habits, and your songs. His ears picked up without his consent the slightest noises that passed through the barrier of the walls separating you.

Bucky had seen many scars, first as an American soldier, then as the Winter Soldier. The memories had taken time to come back but those linked to Hydra had never left. Eyelids closed, he still saw those distorted smiles, those pulsing veins. He still saw all those innocents repatriated to these basements as he had been, he saw them gradually lose hope. He still saw the last traces of life leave their lively eyes, he still heard their screams. Closing his eyes, he imagined himself again lying on the camp bed that had been assigned to him. He could imagine again the thoughts that crossed his mind, the last ones seeming to belong to him. I hope they die, he said to himself at the time, regarding his future peers, I hope they never see what I see. Death was a beautiful escape from the prisons of Hydra. If he could have, he would have succumbed to it, but he had been too precious.

He had seen many scars, but never like yours. A torn face, a leg in pieces, or a dog bite were endured, not chosen.

The metal weapon that served as his arm had not been chosen by him at the start. The red star that had adorned it had been imposed on him. The arm he wore today had been chosen by him, but the wound that caused it was nothing but torture. Whether it was an accident or a voluntary act, scars had never been anything but torture in his eyes. Why inflict them on ourselves? Why cut our flesh with our own hands?

They were dull, almost completely blending into your skin, but he had seen them. They had jumped out at him.

He wasn't a nurse, much less a doctor, but he knew how to recognize these kinds of things. It wasn't a cat or some accident that had caused these marks, it was you alone. The place, the depth, the angle. It was mutilation, and he had strangely never seen that.

By dint of seeing only horrors, deaths, attacks, and more, Bucky ended up forgetting the others. Those who suffered without showing it, who cried in silence. Not everyone had an arm missing or purple skin to show their misfortunes. He had the example of Yori, but he had never noticed that in you. Unconsciously, he liked imagining a happy being living next to him, maybe you could have contaminated him? But he forgot that even the gentlest of lambs had suffered.

He wanted to get to know you, he needed to know you

images : Pinterest

dividers : @/thecutestgrotto, @/strangergraphics and @/pommecita

[gatorbites-imagines]

I have a prompt idea, Trans reader (ftm) in the 1940s being bullied, steve and bucky find reader and help him, start to friends to poly lovers (steve x bucky x reader), fluff with a little angst and soft smut, just an idea

Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x FTM reader

Headcanons

I don’t actually know a whole lot about the era for trans people, especially in Brooklyn during those years. So, I’m just writing on a feeling and adding what feels right. Have I ever mentioned that pre-serum Steve is one of my favorites?

Writing this actually reminded me of something I wrote forever ago, called party of one, two, three? You can read part 1 and 2 here, if you are interested. I wasn’t really in the mood to write detailed smut, so.

Being a trans guy in the 30s and 40s wasn’t easy, but was anything during that time? Depending on where you were from and when you came out, you might have had the chance to live as a man.

If let’s say you moved to Brooklyn when you were old enough to know that you were a man, and you had always presented as such, then you might have been able to get a job, and if you knew the right people, fake documents.

If you had always lived in Brooklyn, then it was a lot harder, as most just assumed you were a lady who dressed like a lad because you didn’t want to “do your duty” as a woman, or whatever they had on their minds.

Either way, Steve and Bucky were some of the few people who supported you no matter what, if they only knew you as a man, or if you guys had grown up together. If you fit in Steves clothes you could borrow his, and if Steve was too small, well, then bucky had a closet with clothes too.

Being picked on was hard to avoid, in either situation. The first would be because you were such a small, scrawny and feminine guy. The second because you were a lady that needed to be put in her place.

The second was always more dangerous. The first, theyd just rough you up a bit and taunt you a little, but it always ended up as more of a “haha we are just taking the piss”. The second? It felt like the men who cornered you had something to prove, to you or themselves you didn’t know. But they wanted to prove that they could “fix” or “correct” you.

Living in Brooklyn and being a weirdo like you meant you knew how to fight, somewhat at least. Enough to not go down without a fight. But no matter how much you practiced, keeping up with multiple fully grown men was difficult.

If you already knew Steve and Bucky or not, the two would step in when they saw this. Steve first, being the righteous guy he is, would run in swinging. Scrawny arms and wheezing breaths, eyes burning with the fury of a thousand suns, the blonde so incredibly enraged at the very idea of someone treating another person this way.

Steve never lasted long though, but luckily Bucky was never far behind. In the end, Steve always looked as beat up as you, and maybe it was because he bruised and bled so easily with how sick he was.

Steve struggling to his feet and holding out a hand to pull you up, eyes still sparkling and teeth bloody as he grinned, was enough to make your heart race.

Bucky at least didn’t look like he was the main victim of your group of attackers. He was a bit ruffled up, sure, but he still looked mostly put together.

It should shock no one that Bucky easily led you and Steve back to his and Steves apartment, where Bucky got to work patching you both up as they made you talk about the guys who did it, and why. Steve because he wanted to go back out there and smack them straight, and Bucky to be on the safer side.

Be it the first or twentieth time they save you from your so-called bullies, Steve and Bucky stayed just as intense and caring. Even when they didn’t have a lot, or Steve was sick, you always felt like you belonged and was as much of a man as them.

When you three started dating it got a little easier. Everyone already knew that Steve Rogers as built like a twig, but would swing until there was blood if he needed too. He was snarling, snapping and as feral as those starving alley dogs. He was as protective as one too, not just of you but Bucky too.

Bucky wasn’t much better, though he hid it more successfully. Everyone thought that Barnes was the charming, sweet talker, who liked to talk it out without fighting. But they were wrong, when it came to you and Steve, Buck could be worse than Steve.

Both your fellas were protective and possessive in their own ways, but you couldn’t say you didn’t feel the same. You wanted to drown the men who antagonized Steve for his height and sickness in the piers. And jealousy reared its hideous head when the pretty ladies fluttered their lashes at Bucky whenever he passed.

The three of you were all a mess, but you were each other’s mess. You and Bucky never saw Steve was just his disease and lack of stature. Steve and you never just saw Bucky as his handsome face and face charm. And they never saw you as a lady, you were as much of a man as them.

The only time it ever became a challenge, your biology being different, was when you guys got intimate. But it was never made a huge problem. There were days when Steve couldn’t get it up because of his health, or where he could even participate because of his lungs. And there were days when you didn’t want to be touched because your body made you sick. You guys just found ways to make it work.

Sometimes you and Steve would just sit back on a chair each, one you’d dragged in from the kitchen, to watch Bucky pleasure himself and show off in bed. It was like your own litter theater, and Bucky really loved to be watched and praised by you two.

Sometimes it was Steve lying in bed carefully touching himself, at times it was just him caressing his own torso and telling you two all his wildest fantasies, his face and chest bright red from his flush.

And there were even times when it was you, when dysphoria wasn’t swallowing you whole and howling that your body was wrong. You never looked at yourself when you would be with them, but having two men with their own naked bodies made it harder to focus on your own.

Some days you would imagine that their body was yours, and the dysphoria wouldn’t be so bad. It also helped that Steve didn’t grow as much body hair as Buck, meaning Steve was almost as naturally hairy as you. Part of you just basked in the fact that one of your partners looked like you in that way.

The days you were fine with touch, Steve and Bucky never let it go to waste. You couldn’t fuck them like you three all wanted, they didn’t really have toys like that at the time, or at least accessible to you three. This just meant you guys had to get creative.

God gave humans hands and fingers for a reason, and you all had mouths. You always wore so many layers anyways, so the many hickeys your lovers left on you were easily hidden. The chest was always off the table though, and neither of the men complained.

Bucky was the best at praise, so naturally gifted that Steve would joke that he should become some pulp writer, that he should write those cheap sappy romance novels the ladies liked.

This didn’t mean that Steve wouldn’t praise you and Buck, he did, just in his own ways. The blonde always struggled with forming the right words and getting them out, but his sketchbook filled with pages and paged of you and Buck was all the praise you needed.

They would be good partners. Neither have a label for what you guys are, or what their sexualities are, they just know you three love each other, and that’s all that matters.

[transboyswitchytales]

Dream Weaver

Soulmate Birthmark -Au

Agatha xreader

You don't remember the life before but Lilia finds you and brings you back to your coven and you soulmate the one and only Agatha.

You sat in an emergency room by yourself, again. You were beating yourself up mentally for the past three hours. You wouldn’t have been in here if you weren’t such a klutz. Your hand needed stitches, again. You’d had more scars on your hands than you could count at this point. Some on your arms and dozens on your knees. Luckily you had some tattoos to cover some of the carnage. Plus that birthmark in the shape of a moon on your shoulder.

You tried to flag down a nurse as you started to bleed over the gauze they’d given you to hold against it. But she ignored you. Groaning, you tried to be patient knowing that being a nurse was a thankless job. You yourself had cared for your dying father. You remembered too much of that experience. You shook your head, no it wasn’t time to think of him.

A woman quickly came in, she had silver curly hair in ringlets. She definitely didn’t look like a nurse. Not in scrubs or remotely looking like she was in a medical practice. She looked more like a woman who told people's fortunes. But she’d pulled the curtains closed and was staring at you.

“Hi? I think you have the wrong room.”

“Y/n?”

“Hey….Do I know you?” This was eerie. You felt suddenly like you’d known her from somewhere.

“I’m your mother.”

“I’m sorry, you are mistaken. My mother isn’t-”

“Your father is Max Calderu. He took my last name. Which was very rare for the times.”

You studied her face and sure enough she looked like the woman from the photographs in your torn scrapbook. The bound one your dad kept under his bed. You’d only seen it a few times. She looked older but her eyes, there was something in her eyes. You’d seen them before…in the mirror.

“No…” You shook your head and she reached out and held your cheek. Her eyes starting to spring tears.

“I’m sorry…that…”

“I’ll explain everything. But first you need to come with me.”

“I would actually love to but..” You motioned to your bleeding hand that she was ignoring.

“I know someone who can take care of that.” She says and pulls out a small book. You were about to counter argue that you obviously needed stitches. When she held your free hand and you were sucked into the pages of the book.

Falling to the ground in the middle of the woods. You cursed and she helped you up.

“I’m sorry dear, I know that first time is a harrowing experience.”

You groaned and thought you were going to puke. You turned to see an impressive pair of boots. Looking up, you saw the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen. Long dark hair and gorgeous jawline. You tried extra hard to hide your nausea and be tough in front of her. She seemed to notice as she smirked. But she looked at you with a sense of hunger you weren’t expecting from a stranger.

“There you are little bunny.” She said in a welcoming manor. Before eyeing blood and looking extremely concerned. She walked up and held your arm. A little harder than you expected from a stranger. She moved into your personal space and put pressure on your arm. It oozed blood and you winced. She looked apologetic.

Your blood was dripping down your elbow. And the strange lady calls for someone behind her. The woods around you have tents set up. Like a commune, there was a circle of people who stopped doing there tasks and were watching you.

“Did we just go through a portal or am I high?” You groaned, finally standing up straight.

“Witches portal.” Your supposed mother said.

“So I am high.” You quipped back, looking between the two women.

“You’ll be able to do the same in no time.” The sexy witchy lady said. You nodded disbelieving. A woman came forward and brought you over to a picnic tabel.

“Stitch him up.” The witch said and your supposed mother sat with you.

“Who’s that?” You motioned toward the gorgeous lady.

“Agatha Harkness.” The lady who was bringing out what looked like a mini apothecary told you.

“It makes sense the connection would be instant.” The woman said only to be shushed by your mother.

“Listen…oww.” You said as she put some grey powder over the wound and then chanted something in what you assumed was latin.

“Yeah..I don’t think that’s gonna work..” But she blew on it and the blood was no longer pooling out of it. “That actually worked?”

“You are about to find out a lot of stuff, one of them should be; don’t ever doubt Jennifer Kale.”

“Oh ok, thank you Jennifer Kale.” You said as you touched the cut. It was already looking healed. She nodded to your mom and walked away.

“We have a lot to talk about.” Your mother said and touched your shoulder.

“Yeah like starting with where you’ve been for the past 27 years?” You said slowly looking at her.

“You don’t remember. But I’m hoping you will. I’ve been protecting you from afar for a very long time.” She took out a small book with pictures of you.

“I can’t tell if thats creepy or sweet.” You chuckle and she follows in small laughter. The two of you talk for three hours. Long enough for women to come and bring wood to build a small bon fire. You talk about your dad, who she loved. You learn slowly that she’s a witch, and part of a coven. You nodd along not disbelieving as your arm was proof of something more. You listen to her tell you of magic and the craft. She wants to teach you. Then she looks over at the gorgeous women from before. And you hear her tell you of soulmates. You stop her and ask what the fuck she means. But your mom just tells you all will come into play soon enough. But that she needs you.

Chapter 2

[reveryfics]

Hii, it's been a time since i send you a request. How are you doing ? Did you little break helped you ?

If you're feeling up to, could you write a Bucky x ftm!reader smut ? I crave for some but don't find any unfortually.

Thanks for reading me 🎀

Red Velvet

Bucky Barnes x FtM Reader

Summary: Bucky can't help the way he feels seeing you after your recent mission.

A/N: Ahh I'm excited to get a request from you again! Break helped a lot with writers block, thanks for asking. Sorry if this sucks, it's most definitely not my favorite.

TW: Smut - 18+ - Females DNI - Kinks?

The elevator doors slid open, revealing the hushed, dimly lit expanse of the upper floor, a stark contrast to the bustling tower below. You expelled a breath, a sigh that carried the weight of the day, and carelessly tossed aside a tangled wig and a pair of impossibly high heels. The crimson velvet dress, a silken whisper against your skin, was the last vestige of the persona you’d just shed, a fleeting echo of the femininity you’d once inhabited before your transition.

The soft pad of your bare feet against the cool floor echoed in the quiet, a sensual rhythm punctuated by a low, appreciative whistle that drifted from the kitchen. You turned, expecting the familiar presence of Tony or perhaps even the thunderous form of Thor, but instead, you found Bucky, his lips curved into a knowing smile.

He leaned against the granite countertop, his gaze a slow, deliberate caress that traced the curve of your throat, the delicate string of pearls nestled there, the way the dress clung to your form, emphasizing every line and contour. He saw the strength in your features, the undeniable handsomeness that radiated from you, and yet, there was a vulnerability, a raw sensuality that ignited a fire within him, a primal urge he couldn't quite name. Even if this was for a mission, there was something about you, in that dress, that drove him wild.

A soft smile played on your lips as you crossed the kitchen, the air thick with unspoken tension. You snatched the half-empty glass of amber liquid from his hand and drained it in a single, fiery gulp.

"Rough mission?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble as he refilled your glass.

You downed it again, your free hand tangling in the disheveled strands of your hair. "Spent my entire adolescence trying to become the man I am, and here I am, in a dress," you confessed, a wry amusement coloring your words.

"You look stunning," he whispered, his voice a husky caress against your ear. "I never knew a man could look so breathtaking, so utterly irresistible, in a dress."

A blush warmed your cheeks, a delicious heat that spread through your body. You couldn't discern if it was the alcohol, his words, or the potent cocktail of both, but your mind was a whirlwind of sensual possibilities. "Perhaps you'd like to help me take it off?" you breathed, your voice barely a whisper.

He pushed you back against the cool surface of the nearby bed, his body a warm, solid presence hovering over yours. His hands, strong and sure, gripped your hips, his lips tracing a fiery path along the exposed skin of your neck. He nipped and sucked, leaving a trail of dark, blossoming marks, your breathy moans and sharp intakes of air a symphony of shared desire.

You arched beneath him, your body instinctively seeking his touch, his hands roaming over your skin, igniting a wildfire of sensation. His lips, hot and insistent, sent shivers down your spine, a wave of pure, unadulterated ecstasy. The makeup you’d worn for the mission smudged across your face, a chaotic masterpiece that only fueled his desire.

You shifted, your body now straddling his, your hands reaching for the delicate fastenings of the crimson dress. You shed the silken fabric, letting it pool around your hips, a vibrant splash of color against the pale sheets. His fingers traced the delicate lines of your top surgery scars, a reverent touch that sent a wave of shivers through your body.

He pulled you down by the delicate strand of pearls, his kiss heated and demanding as he helped you shed the remaining fabric, tossing it aside like a discarded secret. You returned the favor, your fingers working at the buttons of his shirt, your lips and teeth leaving a trail of marks across his skin. Your nails raked down his back, leaving delicate, fleeting imprints of your passion.

He praised you, his voice a low, husky litany of adoration, calling you his "good boy," pulling you into heated kisses by the strand of pearls that adorned your neck. You placed your hands on his chest, your body rising and falling with each shared breath, as he guided himself within you.

You arched your back, a wave of pleasure washing over you as you slowly sank down onto him. The rhythm was intense, heated, his hands gripping your hips, yours clinging to his chest as you rode him, your bodies moving in perfect, sensual harmony.

You clenched around him, your body shuddering as you reached the peak of your pleasure, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you kissed him, your lips still slick with shared desire. He groaned, pulling back slightly before coming onto your stomach, a warm, pulsing release. You lay there, entwined, basking in the afterglow, the silence broken only by the sound of your shared breaths.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

"I love you too," you breathed, your voice a soft echo of his.

[prettybrownelf]

Me again could you do Marc Spector x ftm reader smut when maybe the reader is in a gang of some sort Marc's been trying to take down for months and he backs him in a corner and starts choking him and he moans so Marc realizes he's attracted to him and fucks him in exchange for information but then he realizes he's actually fallen for him and it's rough but then turns soft maybe some overstimulation for reader who had top surgery and degredation that turns into praise/praise degredation

Back Alley Fun

Non MLM/NBLM DNI

Pairings- Marc Spector X FTM! Reader

Summary- Marc has been searching for you for months, and its time to teach you a lesson on how to speak to him

Word Count- 1036

Content Warnings- AFAB Genitalia, Praise, Degradation, Overstimulation, Pet Names, Choking, Slight Public Sex

Months. Marc hasn't been able to have a good night's sleep in months. 

You and your stupid little gang have been evading his every attempt to capture week after week. That stupid grin on your face everytime you got away, as if this was some sort of game. 

But today, he's not giving up. He's going to capture you and force information out of you so he can finally lay in his bed and sleep without constant thrashing. 

A cool chill runs down his spine as he adjusts his sweater onto his shoulders. The moon illuminates the sidewalk as Marc briskly stalks the street. The hint he had got from one of your little henchmen (more like beat out of your henchman) was that you’d be at a bar tonight. He could hear the annoyingly loud music from around the corner. 

Bright neon lights fill his vision as he makes his way to the club. Pushing his way through people, the music around makes his body vibrate as he looks around for you. Marc scoffs to himself as he tries to get to the side of the room, looking through a sea of dancing bodies. 

Finally, he finds your eyes, staring right at him. Marc jumps into action, trying to rush through people as he watches you slip out the back. 

The cool air meets his skin as he looks for you in the alley, only to find you waiting for him. The obvious smirk on your face makes Marc scowl. 

“Hey Marcy!” Your voice sounds like you're seeing an old friend. Marc huffs as he stomps towards you. “You, are so. Fucked.” Marc can barely get his words out as tries to grab him. You let him do it, letting him slam you against the brick wall. “You feel better now Marcy?” Marc watches as you give him a fake pout. “Don't call me that.” You roll your eyes as you smile up at him. “Why so mad Marcy? I thought we were friends!” 

You're barely able to catch Marc move as his hand wraps around your throat, slamming you harder against the wall. A choked moan escapes your mouth as your back collides with the wall, taking some of the air out of your lungs. Confusion fills Mar’s eyes as he looks down at you, squeezing his hand a bit harder around your throat to test out his theory. 

As always, he theory is correct. 

Another moan comes out of you as he squeezes harder. Marc smirks down at you as moves his hand to make you look up at him. “I’ll make you a deal.” He whispers, his voice raspy with desire. “I’ll fuck you’r handsome brains out and you give me the information i need to know.” Marc watches as you think it through, although he knows what you're going to say. He can't help but smile down at you as you let out a breathy ‘yes’. 

Within seconds his lips are on yours, capturing you in a lust filled kiss as his tongue explores your mouth. His hand remains tight on your throat as he grinds his already hard bulge against you. His voice is raspy as he turns you around, bending you over slightly as his hand travels under your tight jeans. “Does that feel good, slut?” He whispers in your ear as he drags his finger back and forth, feeling you getting wet. 

Your breath is almost completely gone as he tries to catch up with Marc’s movements. All you can do is nod as you take in the feeling of his hands on you. Marc's hot breath hits your ear as he whispers to you, moving his fingers faster against your wettend underwear. “Are you gonna be a good boy for me?” You nod at his words, trying to ignore how close you are to cumming just from his words. 

Marc takes notice of this as smirks, moving his hand to your bare flesh under your boxers as his finger circles your clit. You can hear him chuckle to himself as he feels your legs shake. Marc's hand moves to your chest to make sure you stay upright as you cum, his hand on your chest dragging over your top surgery scars as your legs twitch. 

Marc moves away from you, giving you a moment to catch your breath as you hear his pants unzip. Excitement fills your body as you feel him press against you again. He slowly pushed himself inside you, enjoying your small whines from overstimulation as he finally bottoms out. He groans in your ear as he slowly moves his hips, getting faster with each thrust as your legs shake. “Good slut, you're taking my cock so well.” All you can do is whine as you take the pleasure, feeling yourself getting close again as he grabs your hips roughly, groaning above you as he whispers in your ear. “Are you gonna cum for me again pretty boy?” You nod as you feel your legs almost give out under you as you see stars. Your orgasm rushes through your body as you hear Marc moan above you. “Good boy, cum on my cock.” Marc's thrust suddenly gets sloppy as he moves faster, whispering in your ear as he gets himself off. “You're such a pretty boy, so good for me.” 

The second the words leave his mouth he stops his movements, keeping himself inside of you as he cums. He can feel your deep breathing as he pulls out, rubbing your hips softly as you both calm down. 

“Do you feel ok, pretty boy?” Marc asks, his voice suddenly soft as he helps you stand up. Your legs are still shaking a bit as you stand, leaning against Marc's chest as you relax. “Yeah, I'm ok.” You whisper. You feel Marc’s arms wrap around you as he runs his hand up and down your back lovingly. “You did so good for me.” He mutters as he gives you a small kiss on the forehead. “Let's go somewhere quiet so we can talk, yeah?” You say, looking up at him. Marc gives a small smile as he holds you by the waist. “Lead the way.”

[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.

[daydaydayrk420]

I'm on my period right now. It was like five days late and it's hurting as fuck. All I can think about is Bucky Barnes/Logan Howlet helping me with easing the pain.

So because I want to... here's a cross-over because they're my favorite people ever so I guess this is mostly for me but I'm sure someone out there will enjoy it too

I didn't want to put two GIFs so here's this instead with David Harbour in the background bcs we also love that man too

Men don't care about period blood

Top Bucky Barnes x bottom ftm reader x top logan howlet

⚠️period blood, sub-reader, taboo I guess, eating out, double penetration, not for weak stomachs⚠️

🚨 Minors and girls do not interact 🚨

Bear in mind i don't have testosterone so i still get my period. I hear your period stops when you have it but i have no clue cus i can't get my hands on it.

Fyi I started this on the fifth of November so my period is long gone as I write this and post it

Update... I'm going through another period and I'm laughing at my old me if he thought those were horrible cramps. Now? I can't even walk or the pain goes in my ass too.

Again ⚠️ MAJOR WARNING A LOT A LOT OF BLOOD PLAY ⚠️

______________________________________________________________

Blood. Everywhere.

Y/n didn't keep track of his cycle. Again.

So. Guess who woke up with blood covered boxers this morning?

Y/n y/l/n.

Said man woke up in discomfort. He's in discomfort for multiple reasons.

One, his abdomen hurts as fuck.

Two, his thighs are sticking together from blood.

Three, wearing wet boxers isn't fun in general let alone blood-soaked boxers.

Four, the window is wide open and so is the door. He's fucking freezing.

Five, the bed is empty. His two veterans must've stayed up again.

Both Bucky and Logan prefer the colder weather so it's no surprise the windows and doors are wide open so the breeze flows through.

Y/n groans in frustration and covers his face. But he doesn't attempt to move yet. He's angry enough that he's too lazy to move. He's already covered in blood anyway what's the point of rushing.

But the cold breeze pushes him out of bed. He slowly gets up so he doesn't get the blood on more surfaces than it already is and goes to close the window.

Once that's done he goes to his dresser and gets his period boxers. He goes to the bathroom, strips his now red boxers off, and throws them in the washer.

Once the washer goes off he takes a quick shower to clean the blood off. Then he lets his body air dry as he searches for his menstrual cup. He makes sure to slide around with a towel under his legs so in case any blood drips it doesn't fall on the floor.

Eventually, he finds it and runs it under hot water to clean it.

"Why does it smell like murder in here?" Logan's gruff voice called out from the bedroom. Y/n only grunts knowing Logan can hear him because of his higher senses. Same with why he can smell the blood on the sheets so easily.

"Oh..." is the last thing the bleeding man heard before the bedroom was filled with sheet ruffling.

A couple of minutes later, Logan walked into the bathroom with the sheets he took off the bed and coveres. He stops the washer to add it in before setting it off again.

All while he did that y/n was zoned out sitiing on the toiled just letting the blood drip into it because it's way comfortable and easier. But you can't sit on the toilet for days. So Logan walks up to him and crouches in front of him.

At such proximity the veterans nose is hit with the strong smell of iron. "Hey, bub. You gonna get up some day." He keeps his voice soft so he doesn't set off y/n's mood randomizer.

The bleeding man snaps out of it and nods. He reaches for his cup again. Logan nods too and kisses his hurting lovers' forehead before leaving so he can have some privacy.

Meanwhile, Bucky is in the kitchen desperately trying to figure out the new coffee machine they got as a gift from y/n's friend.

He lets out a few curses under his breath as he tries to understand what's happening. That's until a hairy hand reaches around him and presses a few buttons, and boom. The coffee is brewing.

The metal armed man groans and chukles afterward. "Thanks, pup." He smiled at the smaller man with kitty ears hair behind him. Being a part of a throuple with two other short men helps with y/n's dysphoria. (Comic heights)

Logan grunts in response. He doesn't like being called pup, but no matter how many times he says it, y/n and Bucky still call him that. It's what he gets for calling everyone, bub. It's basically the same thing, but instead of b, it's p.

They both silently watch the coffee drip into the mug.

"James!" Y/n groans in frustration. The veterans tense up but look at each other, wondering which one he's yelling at.

"Both of you!" That snaps the two veterans out of their tranz and run towards y/n.

Said man is standing in the living room staring at their cat, who's covered in mud, that was dripping from Bucky's and Logan's shoes.

The white fur is now brown and sticky as the adorable feline wiggles on her back as if asking for belly rubs.

The bleeding man looks at the veterans and glares. They know what that means, and Bucky grabs Alpine while Logan grabs the boots. They both take them to the bathroom to wash off.

Y/n goes to the kitchen and takes Bucky's finished coffee. He grabs something to eat and goes to the living room. He opens the box of chocolate chip cookies and starts stuffing his face with the cookies and the coffee.

"Hey, that was mine." Bucky chuckled when he noticed y/n is drinking his coffee.

The bleeding man only grumbles and keeps drinking.

Bucky chuckles and goes to make another coffee. This time, he tries to remember what Logan did for the machine to work. Surprisingly, he figures it out and makes a simple black coffee.

Soon, Logan joines them with a cat burrito. He sets alpine who's wrapped in a tortilla blanket on y/n's lap and kisses his forehead before going to the kitchen.

The day goes by painfully slow for the man in pain. He's used up all his last painkillers. Normally, Logan or Bucky would've gone to buy more, but to y/n's luck today, it's a national holiday. So. Everything is closed.

So y/n is left to suffer.

But! The veterans talked, and borh agreed to help their boyfriend with his pain.

The bleeding man is still sitting in the living room. Alpine purring loudly in his lap as she suckles and kneeds on the fluffly blanket covering y/n's thighs.

Logan walks into the living room and picks up alpine. Y/n is about to protest, but Logan sits in his lap instead.

Logan is basically the second house cat. He's got claws. He growls. He purrs. He loves cuddles. And he's tiny enough to comfortably hold him in a lap. Besides the weight. But y/n's likes the weight. It's calming.

That's until Logan starts peppering kisses on the bleeding man's neck. He can feel y/n tense up so he starts to purr to calm him down again.

"Damn you" y/n huffed but pulled Logan closer.

Bucky watches from the doorway.

Usually, y/n is the one on top. He loves using his strap. But when he's on his period, the vetrans want to take care of him instead.

Y/n knows what's happening. He's not dumb. Is he in the mood? He's not sure. But he'll let it play out and see.

And so it did. Y/n is now naked in bed. A large towel under his hips and thighs as he watches Bucky setting up any necessary extra towels.

Logan is in the bathroom probably looking for their box of extra condoms and lube.

Y/n is hit with immense cramps and clutches his stomach. Bucky notices and immediately sits with him. The metal-armed man rubs circles onto y/n's belly.

He decides to skip the waiting and slowly reaches between the bleeding man's legs. Said man gasps and looks at Bucky who only gives him a reassuring smile.

Bucky slowly reaches down and gently removes the menstrual cup before taking it to the bathroom where Logan takes the cup and sends Bucky back.

When Bucky returned he saw y/n curled up in a ball, clenching his belly with his eyes shut tight.

The metal armed man immediately rushed to bed and pulled y/n to lay on his back. "Hey hey it's alright let me help." He said soothingly. Y/n whines and holds his abdomen.

Bucky slowly and gently removed the bleeding man's hands. He kisses his abdomen and gently runs his hands over those slightly bloodied thighs.

Not long after that Logan comes back with condoms, lube and some now found painkillers if the cramps get too bad.

Bucky slowly starts to kiss towards y/n's bleeding cunt. The moment his lips touch y/n's clit Bucky feels the body underneath him jump.

Logan sits by the hurting man's side and starts to kiss and purr against his skin to comfort him.

Y/n's face scrunches. He doesn't know if he wants it or not. So he just lets it play out and sees because he knows the veterans will stop if he asks.

The metal-armed man takes his time. His tongue slowly licks around the sensitive nub, licks down the outer sides of the inner lips. Then the inner sides. And eventually the opening. He stops when y/n's hand jump into his hair.

He slowly caresses y/n's thigh with his metal arm while Logan rubs y/n's abdomen and kisses his neck.

The mixture of kisses, caresses and Logan's purrs helps the bleeding man relax. He eventually eased the grip on Bucky's hair and lets him continue.

Bucky starts licking again. He doesn't want to use his fingers. He knows the tongue is enough when he's eating y/n out.

It doesn't take long before he's making out with the weeping cunt. He's like a starved man. And the way y/n's legs wrap around his head and squeeze only fuels him more. He rubs the clit with his nose as his tongue works wonders inside those bleeding walls.

Y/n's gasping and arching his back. His hand is gripping Bucky's hair so tight he's surprised he's not ripping them out. Logan can't help but stroke himself at the sight.

But this isn't for Logan. So he kisses his bleeding boyfriend and uses his free hand to play with y/n's nipple.

Y/n shakily reaches out and grabs Logan's dick. He doesn't like when the attention is only in him, so when Logan stops him, he nets out a whine in protest. The cat eared man chuckles and lets y/n do what he wants. That grin is slowly wiped off with a moan when he feels y/n's thumb right on his frenulum.

Logan cursed under his breath. Bucky is fully unaware of what's happening above him because he's too focused on his cunt makeout. He hasn't pulled up to breathe yet. But he doesn't seem to care.

Y/n does dare, though, so he tugs on Bucky's hair. He looks down to meet those beautiful blue eyes filled with passion. Bucky understands and lifts his head up to breathe. He looks like a hyena. Most of his chin is covered in blood. But it's not as messy as one would think, considering the blood mixes with the juices.

The former assassin finally notices how y/n is stroking Logan's dick.

"Should we take another step?" Bucky suggested. Logan groans with desperation but doesn't answer because it's y/n's matter.

The bleeding man thinks about it. He needs the release. Plus it'll help with the cramps. He nods and reaches for the condoms. Bucky stops him and grabs the box himself. He doesn't want y/n to move much.

The lube is forgotten. It's less likely that they'll need it. Bucky grabs a condom and hands it to Logan before he grabs one for himself. They carefully put them on.

Y/n sits up to straddle Logan's hips. He lays his back against the wolf's chest and tilts his head to bury his face in the wolf's neck. He rests one hand on Logan's that's resting on his belly to hold him in place, and puts the other one on Bucky's bicep for now.

Bucky first lines Logan up and lets y/n slowly sink onto him. The two men in front of Bucky moan.

Bucky just watches at first. He lets Logan gently rock his hips to start off with a gentle pace. Y/n keeps his face buried in Logan's neck.

Y/n knows that whenever he needs to dig his nails or teeth into something without having to hold back he can always use Logan for it. As much as Bucky loves the marks they all agreed that it's safer if y/n does it to Logan because of his healing factor so he doesn't have to worry and hold back on his pressure. And let's be honest. Logan is a masochist.

So y/n reaches back and digs his nails into Logan's bicep as he's hit with cramps. But Logan doesn't budge. He only groans and keeps a steady pace.

It doesn't take long before Bucky joins. He slowly pushes in to make sure the hurting man's body gets used to being penetrated twice at the same time.

It's not long after that that the throuple is a moaning and groaning mess.

"James" Y/n moans. He's so glad his boyfriends share a name. It's less complicated to moan for both of them. Bucky and Logan know the moan is meant for both of them. Also, a good reason why they don't get jealous over who gives better pleasure.

The boys speed up. Y/n gasps and arches his back. At this point he's forgotten the pain he woke up with as it's replaced with pleasure. "Close!" He cries out when he feels the familiar knot in his abdomen.

Both veterans start to attack their boyfriend's neck with kisses. They want to stimulate him as much as possible. Y/n's hands shoot to both of their hair and harshly grip them. They all let out curses under their breaths as they started to get sloppy.

"Yes yes yes yes yes" Y/n groans and squirts. He's not a squirter so this surprised all three of them.

Logan's senses go overload as he watches the liquid shooting onto Bucky's thighs. It's all too much for him and before he knows it he's filling his condom up.

Y/n lays against Logan who collapsed onto the pillows. They both pant and wait for Bucky to finish too.

Logan shakily reaches up and pulls Bucky into a heated kiss. The bleeding man whimpered at the sight.

Logan and Bucky smirked. They know what they're doing. So they purposely used more force into the kiss.

Y/n clenches around Bucky. That caused the metal-armed man to groan and pull away from the kiss. Bucky kisses the bleeding man instead. Y/n scratches at Bucky's back and returns the kiss.

That's all Bucky needs to let go and fill his condom too.

Bucky tries his best not to collapse so he can clean the three of them up. Once everyone's clean he joins them in bed. Logan and Bucky sandwich y/n between them and caresses his sore spots.

The bleeding man closed his eyes and murmured quiet thank yous before dozing off.

Logan and Bucky let themselves fall asleep too. They can't remember the last time they slept anyway.