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defectivevillain · 2 months ago

Text

better the devil

pairing: Stu Macher/transmasc! reader

the reader is transmasc and is referred to with he/him pronouns. otherwise, race is ambiguous and no physical descriptors are used.

summary: You meet Stu Macher at a party and he takes an interest in you. …If only you knew how dangerous that would be.

word count: 2.6k | ao3 version

warnings: canon-typical blood/gore/murder/violence, unwanted romantic advances (physical proximity, implied flirting) from a side character, and spoilers to Scream 1. There’s also one short moment where the reader thinks he will be misgendered, but he isn’t.

author's notes: I need a Stu/trans!masc reader fic. I NEED IT. So I’m here to deliver. Because sometimes you have to be the change you want to see in the world.

Three things: 1) just like many other shorts in this Spooktober series, the pacing of this fic will be a bit fast; 2) we’re going to pretend Stu isn’t dating Tatum; and 3) this is not canon compliant, but it still has spoilers.

The title of this fic is from Better the Devil by Z Berg. It's from Strange Darling.

You’re lost in your thoughts as you head down the hall of this unfamiliar house, weaving around people in an attempt to find some more space. You’re too distracted to notice the guy with short blond hair heading in the same direction, until you’re bumping into him.

“Oh, my bad,” he says, steadying you with a hand on your shoulder. “Sorry, dude.” He’s looking past your shoulder, as if preoccupied with something. You apologize too and he looks at you upon hearing your voice. You instinctively wait for a flustered apology (“I’m sorry, I thought you were-”). But instead, he’s just staring at you. It’s a bit unnerving.

After a few seconds, you decide to keep walking. At least, you try—but the guy is soon blocking your path. He’s pretty tall. “Hey, where are you going?” He asks, slinging an arm around your shoulder. You immediately get the sense that this guy isn’t trying to be invasive—he’s just a bit brazen. It’s a friendly gesture. “Running away so fast… you scared or something?” A hint of a lopsided smile rises on his face.

“No,” you frown, shoving your hands in your pockets.

“Good!” He grins. It’s an endearing sight, and you immediately chastise yourself for thinking so. “Say, what’s your name? You look familiar.” With that remark, you realize he looks familiar too. You introduce yourself and recognition passes over his face. “Oh, shit, we have math together.”

“Oh,” you remark, suddenly able to make the connection. “You’re… Stu?”

“The one and only,” he responds. “So, where are you off to in such a hurry?” He asks, raising a brow.

You just shrug, glancing at the staircase. Stu follows your eyes, noticing your brief lapse in attention. “I wouldn’t go upstairs if I were you,” he says, his eyes glittering with amusement. “Billy and Sid are gonna be up there soon. Could get loud.” There’s a playful grin on his face. Stu’s arm is still around your shoulders and his grip tightens for a fraction of a second.

The insinuation he just made is not lost on you, and you can’t quite hide a grimace at the thought. Stu just laughs. “You like horror movies?”

You nod and he brightens, leading you towards the living room and onto the couch, where a group is watching Halloween. You opt to sit on one end on the couch, trying to take up less space and enforcing some distance between you and these strangers. Stu settles on a chair behind the couch, but over the course of the movie, he taps the girl next to you on the shoulder and she moves. Then Stu is jumping over the back of the couch and sidling up next to you. He’s almost close enough to be touching you, and as the movie continues, your shoulders start to brush up against each other’s.

It’s hard to focus on the movie with Stu next to you. Not only is the proximity making you nervous, but Stu is also pretty restless. He’s almost always moving: constantly fidgeting and tapping his fingers or his foot; whispering under his breath. And as if you don’t have enough to be nervous about, a random girl decides the armrest mere inches from you is a viable place to sit. Now you’re sandwiched between this stranger and Stu, and the girl keeps glancing at you unsubtly. You don’t know what to do, especially when you notice that she seems to be drifting closer and closer to you. At some point, she’s going to be in your lap. The thought makes you move closer to Stu, attempting to put more distance between you and the stranger.

Stu’s attention is taken from the movie and he looks over at you, comprehension evidently dawning on him as he sees the girl leaning towards you. Stu’s emotional intelligence is clearly high, as he immediately senses you’re uncomfortable and gets to his feet.

“We’re going to the kitchen,” he says, tugging you up with him before you can object. “You can sit here, Sarah.” He says innocently, turning his back and heading for the kitchen. You follow after him, relieved to have an escape from that awkward situation.

Stu looks through the fridge and grabs a beer, before taking a big sip and looking over at you. “What’s up with you?” He asks after a few seconds of silence. “Sarah was totally flirting with you. Couldn’t take her eyes off of you. But you just sat there like a fuckin’ statue.” Stu is looking at you expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

You look down into your cup, feeling the need to avoid eye contact. “I wasn’t interested.” You murmur. “Besides, I don’t know her.” The excuse even sounds flimsy to you; Stu just raises his eyebrows, a smile on his face. It looks slightly strained.

“Half the guys here would kill to have her attention,” he says, looking out into the other room. A strangely dark expression flickers across his face—so quickly you’re sure you imagined it. Then Stu’s shrugs. “She seemed pretty desperate, though.” He finishes.

You nod in agreement, grateful to be spared from any further discussion on the matter. “We’ll find someone for ya,” Stu says with a grin, stepping over so he’s standing at your side and staring out into the living room. “We’ve got all night.”

You’re not sure why he’s doing any of this. From what you’ve heard, Stu is a pretty popular guy. He shouldn’t even be interested in speaking to you or knowing your name—let alone your romantic prospects. Why is he still entertaining all of this? Hell, you would’ve been less surprised if he shoved you to the ground after you bumped into him earlier. Yet he was nothing but kind to you, and he continues to act as if you’re actually worth talking to. You don’t understand it.

When Stu leaves to get some more beers—with a cheeky “I’ll be right back…!” and a fake gasp—you only have more time to contemplate that notion. Stu’s never shown particular interest in you before, but then again, you’d never spoken until today. You sit near the back of the classroom, on the opposite side as him. You don’t talk much during that class either, so there would really be no reason for him to notice you.

You must be zoned out for a while, because your thoughts are only broken off with the realization that all the partygoers are leaving. You blink and watch as they all whisper amongst themselves and exchange worried glances, before filtering out of the house and leaving you standing alone in the kitchen. Frowning, you head back into the living room—only to hear a scream that makes your blood run cold. A shiver runs down your spine as you hear a loud commotion outside. Before you can think any better of it, you’re heading outside to see what happened. It doesn't take long for you to find the commotion: Sidney Prescott is standing next to a car with a smashed roof, staring at the garage door of the house.

“Are you okay-?” Your voice dies in your throat as you see the blood splattered across her skin and the sheer horror written all over her face. Sidney points wordlessly at the garage door, where a girl—Tatum, you think— is hanging limply from the pet flap. Bile climbs up your throat and you stare ahead in terrified disbelief, unable to believe your eyes. As foolish as it sounded, you assumed you would be safe at a party—with the sheer amount of people. It seems that wasn’t the case.

Before Sidney and you can begin to comprehend what’s happening, there’s a harsh sound as a knife is dragged along the nearby car. The killer is standing behind you in a mask, and they quickly lurch forwards. Sidney and you run in opposite directions, and the killer races after Sidney.

For a while, you kneel in the bushes outside the front of the house, before summoning the courage to go into the home. You need to call the police, check for any other survivors, and find a weapon. You take slow, light steps as you cautiously walk through the door. The living room is now abandoned, with the movie still playing. Randy or any of the other remaining students are nowhere in sight.

It happens in the blink of an eye. One moment, you’re glancing around the corner; the next, you’re just barely dodging a shape hurtling at you. The killer is back. You avoid their attempt at a tackle, and their knife sinks into the hardwood flooring near your head with an audible thunk. You kick at them and they reel backwards momentarily. Taking advantage of the momentary opportunity, you turn and attempt to get to your feet to run away—only for them to grab your ankle and yank you backwards. You twist to the side and the knife goes into the flooring near your side, tearing off some of your skin and wrenching a hiss from your lips.

You can’t dodge the third blow, as the knife hurtles down towards your face. Terrified, you block your face with a hand—and the killer stabs through your palm, exerting a lot of force and attempting to push the knife down into your skull. You grab at their wrist with your free hand and try to shove them off, but they have a distinct advantage in their position. The blade is a breath away from lodging into your temple; it’s pure adrenaline and terror that fight the killer off long enough for them to rip the knife from your hand and attempt to stab you again. You turn around and kick them in the face, scrambling to your feet and racing through the house. You run up the stairs, your heart roaring in your ears as you turn down a hall and duck into a walk-in closet, closing the door behind you quietly and hiding behind a rack of clothing. You’re quick to place a hand over your mouth and attempt to calm your breathing, despite your panic.

You hear the killer head down the hall moments later; you’re not sure how long you wait, stifling your panicked breaths, before creeping out of the closet and descending the stairs. You can hardly turn into the next room before you’re freezing, dread washing over you.

Sarah, the girl from before, is crumpled on the ground in a huge puddle of blood. There’s a stab wound in her chest and… her eyes are gouged out. Your ears are ringing. “She couldn’t take her eyes off of you.” Stu had said. Something ugly settles at the pit of your stomach. You immediately try to back away, only to collide with someone.

You’re hit with déjà vu. A mere few hours ago, you bumped into Stu just like this. And now, you twist around to find the same killer from before, standing behind you and wielding a knife. But his mask isn’t splattered with blood, and you remember your blood spraying all over the killer when he stabbed your hand.

…Are there two of them?

Your horrified thoughts must show on your face, as the killer tilts their head to the side before reaching up to take off their mask. “So,” a far too familiar voice says lightly. The mask rises to reveal Stu staring at you with a twisted grin. You feel like you’re going to throw up. “Guess you figured it out.” Stu looks at the knife in his hand as it catches the light, before pointing it to your neck. You immediately take a step back, only for him to follow with a step forward. This routine continues, until your back is hitting a wall and you’re trapped.

“I gotta say, this is a good look for you,” Stu remarks. He reaches out with a bloodstained hand and you can’t suppress a flinch. This seems to amuse him, as a smile rises on his face and he continues reaching closer. Eventually, his hand cradles your cheek and his thumb drags a bloody smear down your face. Then it pauses right at the corner of your lips. Your breath stutters in his chest at the heat in his gaze, and for a moment he almost seems to press you further into the wall—

Then there’s a grip on the nape of your neck, and you’re yanked off the wall by your shirt collar, shoved to the side and into the kitchen. With the knife still firmly pressed to your throat, you have no choice but to follow along with Stu’s movements. When you enter the kitchen, you lock eyes with a terrified Sidney and your heart breaks. You had hoped she would escape. It seems that wasn’t the case.

What happens after must be a dream sequence. That’s the only way your mind can make sense of it, as Stu and Billy reveal they’ve been working together to get revenge on Sidney for her mother’s role in Billy’s parents’ divorce. They also kidnapped Sidney’s father, intending to frame him for the murders before killing him and making it look like a suicide. Honestly, none of it makes much sense to your pain-addled mind. Your comprehension of their motive is only further stalled by the knife to your throat, and the intense, scrutinizing gaze you’re pinned under.

Billy seems particularly displeased that you’re here, but after some argument with Stu (“You had your fun, now let me have mine!”) the two of them move on. Now, they’re stabbing one another—evidently to make it seem as if they’re victims. Billy stabs Stu rather hard, and Stu’s soon stumbling and breathing hard.

It’s then that Gale Weathers appears. At this point, you’re tapped out—on the verge of falling unconscious. A chase of sorts ensues, where Billy goes after Gale and Sidney goes after Billy. Stu is losing a lot of blood, falling to the ground and pressing a hand to his wound. With everyone distracted, you find Sidney’s father in a closet and free him. When you come down the stairs with him, you find Sidney, Randy (how he survived, you have no clue), and Gale standing over Billy’s dead body. Sidney isn’t fazed when the killer suddenly lurches upwards with renewed life, instead putting a bullet through his temple and ensuring he won’t get back up again.

And… that’s that. Against all odds, you survived… and Sidney did too. You’re still reeling from the fact that Stu was one of the killers, especially after his kindness at the party earlier. That only brings up even more questions as to his motives. If he was going to kill you, why would he bother wasting time with you like that?

Nothing about tonight makes sense, and the others seem to agree. With the police on their way, the survivors are left to wait on the front porch—fighting off exhaustion and pain. The moment you hear ambulance sirens in the distance, your body gives in and you’re passing out.

You wake some time later to find yourself in the hospital. You’re told that you’ll make a full recovery within a few days, with rest and nutrition. Randy, Sidney, and Gail are all fine; but Tatum, Sarah, and several others are dead. Billy Loomis is dead. And… Stu Macher’s whereabouts are currently unknown.

You’ve survived. In the days that follow, your wounds begin to heal. But even as your injuries are patched up, the scars will always remain. And the thought of Stu, out there somewhere and very much alive, haunts you for the years to come.

thanks for reading! <3

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#defectivevillain #spooktober #scream #scream movies #scream 1 #scream 1996 #stu macher #Stu Macher x reader #Stu Macher x male reader #Stu Macher x transmasc reader #male reader #transmasc reader #m reader #x male reader

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coffeewithcocoa · 10 months ago

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HIIIIIII OK SO HERE I AM, I wanna ask if maybe you could write like angel x male reader (trans or not up to you) where the reader comforts him maybe after a hard day of work or smthng? My boy needs love and affection😭💗

HERE YOU GO! 🫡

YES ANGEL NEEDS LOVE AND CARE!! I threw a mental breakdown in here:)

Comforting An Angel

Angel Dust x Male Reader

I put male, hope that’s okay!

Summary: You give him comfort after a hard day of work.

(Look at the precious Ange)

——————————————————————

You were waiting in your lovely boyfriend’s, Angel Dusts, room for his return. He told you that he was going to come back late since Valentino wanted to shoot some more stuff with him. Which you understood but you still felt bad for him, especially since his boss is a creep.

You hated Valentino with all your guts. You hated him so much that you would sell your soul so Angel didn’t have to deal with him. He’s told you countless of times though that everything’s fine and that he’s fine, which didn’t make you feel better at all.

After some time of just zoning out and playing with Angels pig, fat nuggets, you got a text from him saying that he just got back and he’s heading to his room. Though you didn’t want to wait anymore so you hopped out of his bed, grabbed Fat Nuggets, and ran straight to the stairs.

Fat nugget oinked at you. “I’m not slowing down!” You told him as if he could talk. When you got halfway there you saw Angel with a liquor bottle in his hand and a tired expression on his face. Your face turned soft as you approached him, letting fat nuggets go and surprise him.

A small gasp left him as he went on his knees and had Nuggs just into his arms. “Awh hi my fat nuggets! How was your day with your other daddy, huh?” His went to a baby voice making you chuckle.

“How was your day Angel?” You gave him a smile. He sighed, grabbing the liquor bottle and standing up. “Stressful.” Your face changed to a softer one, grabbing his hand. “Let’s go to your room and you can talk about it, okay?” He nodded with a weak smile.

The walk back to his room felt quicker when he was actually with you. You opened his room door for him just as a kind act for him. He took a seat on his bed, placing Fat Nuggets In front of him. The liquor bottle being placed on his nightstand.

You took a seat in front of Fat Nuggets, petting him as you looked at Angel. “Could we maybe…cuddle?” He moved his legs so they were to his chest. You nodded, “Of course.” You grabbed Fat Nuggets carefully and sat closer to Angel.

He moved himself so he could easily grab you. Fat Nuggets was in the middle of you guys. “What did Val do this time?” Your voice came out stern.

“He’s into this water boardin’ shit now. He says it’s a kink..” He shrugs, his attention mostly towards Fat Nuggets. “So he’s been drowning you all day?” You rose an eyebrow at him. He nodded, “he gave me some breaks..only around a few seconds.” He tried defending Valentino.

Angel had told you the shit that he does behind closed doors away from the public. It sickens you. “Why’d you sign the contract?” You looked up at him, him doing the same to you. “‘Cause before then I loved him.” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Oh Angel.” Tears flooded his eyes, quickly spilling out as he hugged Fat nuggets tightly. You moved behind him so you could lay on his bed. He moved his head to the crook of your neck.

You hugged him towards your body. “I wish I hadn’t signed that fuckin’ contract.” Angel said between sobs. “I know, it’s okay..shhh.” You gently rubbed his back, giving him kisses on his forehead.

A few minutes later the sobs stopped. You moved yourself back to see his sleeping face. He was hugging a sleeping Fat Nuggets that was in between the both of you. You chuckled as you kissed his damp cheek, “Have a nice rest love.”

With that you closed your eyes and fell asleep with a smile on your face.

———————————————————————

ITS A BIT RUSHED AT THE END IM SORRY😭 Hope you like it though.

Who else hates Valentino?:D

•Have a nice day/night!•

#angel dust hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #gay love #x male reader #character x you #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin x reader #gay fanfiction #gay

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whoisneo404 · 9 months ago

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trans ftm dom nick bf smut? extra points if its rough degrading and filthy (if ur comfortable ofc if not i can give u more fluff prompts)

Eye roll.

Summary: you have been teasing (bf) Nick, he has been busy all day editing and recording, so when Matt and Chris leave to get food at night, Nick desides to make you regret your desitions.

Tw: degradation, cursing.

Note: this IS nsfw, if you don’t like it just don’t read. It’s MY FIRST TIME WRITING NSFW so maybe its not that good.

Note 2: reader IS FTM, so afab body parts will be used to describe their body, but I didn’t got into many ditails. Also, reader wears a binder.

It’s 8 in the morning and I’m looking at the tshirts infront of me, I don’t wanna wear any of them, I look at myself in the mirror, maybe I can just spend the day like this, its not like anyone in the house will care, besides, we have all been good friends since we were kids. I grab my pants and put them on, I look good.

‘’Are you coming to eat or not?’’ my boyfriend Nick enters his room and looks at me up and down. ‘’And your shirt?’’

‘’Didn’t feel like wearing one right now.’’ He closes the door behind him and walks over, standing behind me and wraping his strong arms around me. ‘’Is that so?’’ he whispers in my ear with a low voice sending shivers down my spine.

‘’Yeah… something wrong?’’ he leans down, his head resting in my shoulder leaving kisses on it.

‘’Nothing, you just look so fucking hot and its breakfast time not turn me on time.’’ His hands start trailing from my waist to my hips pressing me against him. ‘’But we have to go now, or I won’t stop.’’ He gives me a kiss on the cheek and walks to the door.

After breakfast and talking for a while with the guys, I help Matt clean the table. Chris is in his room playing videogames and Nick on the leaving room editing their last car video.

‘’And that’s what I bought this weekend, I think I can make great outfits out of those things, don’t you think so?’’ Matt talks as he finishes cleaning the spilled juice.

‘’Yeah, those are great clothing items. I love thrifting.’’ I smile at him. ‘’We should go together someday.’’

‘’Yes, that would be so fun. I’ll be going to my room now, see you around.’’

‘’All right, bye Matty.’’ As he leaves to his room, I turn around to see Nick sitting in the couch with his headphones off and a frown on his face. I walk to him and sit by his side. ‘’everything all right?’’

‘’I don’t know, why don’t you ask Matty?’’ he raises one eyebrow and I let out a short laugh. ‘’What’s so funny?’’

‘’Are you really grumpy because I talked with Matt?’’ Nick doesn’t say anything, he just shrugs his shoulder and crosses his arms over his chest.

‘’Baby, come on, we are friends. Besides, I’m dating the most handsome guy on earth, there is no one I would rather spend my time with.’’ I say as I kiss his cheek and play with his hair. I grab him by the cheek and make him face me, kissing his lips with passion. He leans back, putting his laptop to the side and grabbing my waist firmly pulling me against him until I’m on top of him.

‘’You are mine.’’ He says between kisses.

‘’I know.’’ I murmur back and stand up with a grin on my face.

‘’What the fuck? Why are you standing up? Come here.’’ He seems confused and annoyed.

‘’No, you have to finish editing the video.’’ He lets out a groan and I give him a kiss on his forehead. ‘’You can do it.’’ I say and start walking to the kitchen to grab him a drink, I see him adjust himself in the couch trying to hide the bulge between his pants.

It’s night time, I’m sitting on Nicks lap as he answers e-mail about collabs and up coming photoshoots. I start to get bored of scrolling on my phone and looking at the screen of his laptop, so I start nibbling at his neck and jaw, I feel his body tense up.

‘’Stop that.’’ He says serious.

‘’I’m not doing anything.’’ I say ‘innocently’ and keep giving him kisses and bites.

‘’Behave. Or you’ll regret it.’’

‘’You are no fun Nick.’’ I roll my eyes and cross my arms.

‘’Don’t roll your eyes at me or I’ll make them roll all night.’’ He looks at me dead in the eyes, my cheeks are red and I look away from him. I was gonna say something but Chris and Matt’s voice sound from the front door.

‘’We going out for dinner, I think we’ll take a while.’’ Chris screams.

‘’All right, we’ll order food, take care.’’ Nick screams back.

‘’M’kay, bye.’’ The door shuts and the engine of the car starts rumbling.

‘’As I was saying.’’ Nick grabs my jaw with one hand and makes me look at him. ‘’Behave, or you’ll regret it.’’

‘’Whatever.’’ I mumble and roll my eyes at him again.

‘’Okay, that’s enough.’’ He shuts his laptop and carries me over his shoulder into his room throwing me into the bed. ‘’I have been waiting for this all day.’’ He says more to himself than to me and climbs into bed.

Nick is now on top of me, kissing me roughly. I feel his hands going up and down my waist and legs until he breaks the kiss to take off my pants and hoodie that he gave at some point in the day. He grabs my legs and opens them up.

‘’I swear, I’ll make you scream so hard the neighbors will know that you are a whore for my dick.’’ He whispers against my ear and start kissing my neck, leaving marks all over it, he starts trailing his kisses down my chest, ribs, stomach, until he reaches my boxers which he takes off quickly.

He begins kissing my thighs leaving bite marks all over them, he gives my clit a kiss and then he starts licking and kissing it. My back arches and my hips move uncontrollably against his tongue, my hand pushing and pulling him by the hair.

‘’Please, please.’’ the room is filled with my moans and sloppy noises.

‘’Please what, baby?’’ he murmurs between licks.

‘’Need you, need you inside.’’

‘’Aren’t you so fucking needy? Always wanting to be fucked and filled. Does my fucktoy want me inside of him?’’ He grins looking down at me, I nod eagerly. ‘’Come on doll, use your words, or you won’t get anything.’’

‘’Please, want you inside, need you inside.’’ I slur out, Nick grabs me by the chin and kisses me roughly before spanking my thigh.

‘’That’s it, that’s my slut.’’

thats it, idk how to continue. again, this is my firts time writing smut or nsfw so its not the best. but i tried my best.

feel free to seend all the requests you want and ill try my best to do them as soon as i can.

take care and be kind.

#nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x you #nick sturniolo x male reader #sturniolo triplets x reader #nick sturniolo smut

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sehtoast · 5 months ago

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Tender Threads CH5 (Homelander x OC)

chapter five: little spider

chapter directory | slow burn, hurt/comfort, fluff, spidersona as original character, original trans male character, smut, sublander

summary: don't be the odd one out, bug boy. time to meet the family

Should one find it comforting to approach the room in which their new coworkers reside and hear heavy bickering from beyond the door? In a way, Benjamin does. Despite the annoyance barely disguised on Stillwell’s face, the bug finds it nothing but reassuring that his teammates show no care for strict decorum.

Here he thought the new suit being firmly planted partway up his ass was to remind him to keep clenched and at attention.

There’s no doubt of who’s who when that sliding door parts.

“I’m just saying, a movie about freeing animals from an aquarium isn’t that cool of a concept.” A-Train says with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Oh, and baby track star is?” Counters The Deep as he leans over his side of the V shaped table.

“I’m just saying mine was a box office buster and yours flopped,” the speedster returns with a scoff. “Like a fish.”

“Hey, fuck you man! At least my movies are about real problems!”

It takes but a simple clearing of the throat and a look not unlike a disappointed teacher arriving to find her class has devolved into chaos to get the two men to cease their bickering altogether.

“Where is Homelander?” Stillwell asks, sighing in exasperation as her question is either answered by shrugs or flat out ignored.

The team exchanges uncertain glances. Even Benjamin wonders where he is. Given how the man in question stalked him mercilessly, he’d think Homelander wouldn’t miss this for the world. There was satisfaction to be had in this, so just where in the world is he?

Judging by the look on Stillwell’s face, getting Homelander to follow directions was… perhaps a little difficult.

“Well, we can just continue without him. Everyone,” she gestures to Ben, “this is, as you’re all well aware, Spider-Man. Consider this your first formal meeting. Play nice, behave yourselves, and absolutely no hazing the new guy.”

“Yes ma’am,” The Deep responds, which earns him a look.

“Hi, everyone.” Ben waves. Meeting new people was never quite his forte either. What was he really even supposed to do, give a speech? Thank them? Absolutely not.

“We don’t haze anyone here, right gang?” Chirps that over the top boy scout voice, suddenly appearing as if from thin air. In the doorway stands Homelander, leather gloves held aloft in his hands and a smile fit to rival the sun beaming to greet the room. His eyes flit to Benjamin, giving him a full look up and down. “Madelyn, I’m wounded. You did introductions without me? Sheesh.”

“If you’d show up on time, you could be included in the fun.” She snaps back.

Ben knew a history when he saw it, and the two reeked of one. Homelander, with a huffed laugh and roll of his eyes, saunters past her and makes his way to the head of the table. The bug bites back a smile when that same swish of the cape from the other night is performed once again for Homelander to sit.

Bet that gets annoying.

“Good luck,” Stillwell whispers before her clicking heels echo down the hall and the door seals.

Yeah, just leave me to fend for myself…

“Well, Spider-Man, take a seat…” Homelander goads with a gesture to the chair to his right.

That close to him? Shouldn’t someone else–

“No need to wait for an invitation, bug boy. Sit.” The way he watches Ben approach sends a shiver down the bug’s spine. There was something different in his gaze, something… unknown. The initial up and down look Homelander had given him seemed only like he was checking out the new suit, but now..? Benjamin takes his seat cautiously.

His focus snaps away from the bug suddenly. “All right everyone, you know the drill! How'd we do this week? Who’d we save? How are our numbers?”

A-Train and The Deep both begin rattling off their figures, with the latter giving far more enthusiasm. A-Train’s latest movie, Training with A-Train, was a box office success. The Deep’s recent sea creature activism campaign raked in a whopping twenty million in donations alone.

Maeve gives some spiel about toy sales with a clear lack of enthusiasm. Then comes Starlight, who mentions having stopped a mugging on her morning walk in the park.

Noir simply nods.

In the cross chatter, Ben analyzes each of their profiles on the HUD in his lenses. He decides knowing as much about them is best and an excellent opportunity to play with his new tool. He finds nothing terribly unexpected. Schooling records, restrictions and limitations, medical information– which he’s surprised is so freely available, and their regular names.

Reginald Franklin. Kevin Moscowitz. Margaret Shaw. Annie January.

He tries to sneak a peek at Noir, but–

“How about you, Spider-Man?” Homelander interrupts with a smug grin, leaning forward as if to show how utterly invested he is.

Of course, Ben wouldn’t have any numbers to boast, no merchandise sales, no product contracts. It’s all a way to single him out and make him look lesser– on his very first day, no less. But Benjamin had something.

“Well, uhm… last night I stopped a couple guys holding up a bodega over in Harlem, and some dudes trying to boost a car a few blocks over. Oh! And the day before that, I helped an old lady cross a busy street with her groceries since no one thought to help her out, y’know– I mean, I basically ended up carrying everything home for her, but she bought me a churro so… that was cool.”

Homelander stares at him with an arched brow and a look of mild amusement.

“Oh, I also got some guy from a car accident to the hospital faster than the ambulance could. Rush hour traffic and all.”

Behind the mask, Ben chews his lower lip between his canines. He imagines Homelander didn’t expect him to have something to contribute, let alone something that took up more than a brief second.

Homelander’s eye twitches and he cracks a smile that’s all too fake. “Wow,” he scoffs. “Quite the full plate you’ve got there, helping all the old gals out. Anyway…”

Once the attention is away, Ben goes back to his reading. He decides to find info on Noir another day as looking over at him for any extended period of time would seem a little awkward, especially given their proximity. Homelander, though? It made sense that he should be staring at him. All eyes on the speaker, right?

The team captain paces in front of the windows, hands behind his back as he laments that The Seven should be doing more, not just looking pretty and selling bullshit. While he rambles about their god-given power, Ben tries over and over again to access Homelander’s information.

Everything on that file that wasn’t public knowledge was either redacted or nonexistent. A censored first name, no last name. No hometown, no education, no medical information. No age, no birthday… Homelander was a ghost in Vought’s own system.

Which, of course, makes the bug all the more curious of his new boss. Thus far the HUD hadn’t blocked him from accessing anyone else’s information, so why start now? Hell, the real question to ask is why Vought would even give him a tool like this. Did they want him to be able to just scrounge up any kind of information on anyone he wants at any given moment? It seems a little… odd to simply hand something this powerful over to the new guy.

Of course, with Benjamin being who he is as a person, he’s determined to crack his way past whatever restrictions are preventing him from learning more. Access to the full system was now a must, but he’d have to wait. It wouldn’t do well to be caught causing trouble after just being hired.

Especially not when his consequences were so clearly laid out by the star-spangled supe himself.

“Alright, everyone. That’ll do it. Get out there and make me proud!” Homelander says with an all too forced smile before immediately pointing to Ben. “Not you, though. I want a word first.”

The bug wasn’t sure if it was the fact it was Homelander making him stay or the nervous side-eyed looks the rest of the team gave him that made his stomach practically do flips.

He gulps when the sliding doors seal.

“So, bug boy. What do you know, if anything at all, about what happened to Translucent?” Homelander asks as he saunters over, hands behind his back. His gaze pierces so cleanly through the mask that it’s almost sickening that he has the power to look clear through Ben’s only line of defense.

“Uhm… I mean, not more than what’s out there already. Didn’t he get hurt on some mission and he’s–”

“No,” Homelander says flatly. “Nope, he’s dead. No mission, that’s just some corporate bullshit Vought made up to explain the open seat while they scramble to unfuck everything.” He turns on his heel, beckoning Benjamin with a gesture of two fingers. “Come.”

The elevator ride down is tense and silent. Benjamin resists the urge to look over at his new boss. He’s not sure why; it’s not like looking at Homelander was a crime. Would he follow through with that threat simply because the bug peeked over at him? Did he know about the HUD? Would he be pissed about it if he didn’t?

Questions built upon questions until the soft dinging sound announced their arrival to the basement that Benjamin didn’t even know existed.

Homelander saunters out, cape swaying with every step toward what appears to be a morgue. He continues on, passing workers in lab coats until he stops before a glass window overlooking a separate room full of more staff. On the table inside lays nothing– or so Benjamin thinks until a woman seemingly picks up a piece of that nothing and drops it into a plastic biohazard bag that sags with weight.

“That’s Translucent, right there.” Homelander announces, tapping his fingertip against the glass. He stares at Benjamin intently. “See the box in there by the corner?”

Ben cranes his neck, but he finds it, nodding.

“Made of fuckin’ zinc. Only thing in the world I can’t see through. So, not only do we have someone smart enough to kill a supe, they know how to fuck with us, too.” With a loud sigh and a roll of his eyes, Homelander beckons Benjamin to follow him to a quiet, empty room.

“Now, of all of us, you’re the most active in this rat-fuck infested shit-hole of a city. I want you out there with your eyes and ears open for anything,” he accentuates his words with a pointed finger. “When you find something, you come to me. Not Stillwell, not those morons in analytics. Me. D’you understand?”

“I– yeah. Yeah, gotcha.”

Homelander smiles, staring clear through the mask to read the bug’s expression. A lingering silence tenses the moment before Homelander tilts his head to the side and inches closer, coming all but toe to toe with the bug.

“You…” he begins, voice low and a smile creeping onto his face more and more by the second to reveal those sharp teeth. He pats Benjamin’s left shoulder and grips it– not too tight, but just tight enough.

The web-head stands firm, despite how his legs tremble and anxiety stirs in the pit of his gut. In a flash, the mask is all but ripped off of his head, jostling him forward and causing him to plant his hands on Homelander’s chest to still himself.

Fuck, fuck, fuck–

“There it is,” Homelander lilts. “That look in your eye. God, I love it.”

Ben understood without it even being said. Homelander likes making him feel vulnerable. He likes how Benjamin backs down the minute the mirage of Spider-Man is taken from him. How, even if he has it nonetheless, Homelander is the exception.

It certainly isn’t hard to see through the act of removing his mask.

Ben relocates a hand to grip Homelander’s wrist– the one belonging to the hand that holds his mask aloft.

Defiance.

At least what little he can muster, only to have his own wrist snatched and held in a grip stronger than anything he could ever hope to break.

“Ooh,” Homelander purrs, grin growing wider. “I think you and I are gonna have tons of fun working together.” He stares into Benjamin’s eyes, carnage incarnate within the oceans of his own. Homelander leans in closer, almost as if he were a lover going in for a kiss, but he stops short of such an act to flit his gaze up and down the bug’s body.

Benjamin’s heart pounds within his chest, and he gulps thickly at what words follow, hating the way his body reacts to them– or maybe it was the fucking proximity, the tone, the feeling of Homelander’s breath against his skin, he doesn’t fucking know. There's an unwanted tingle of arousal that has him ready to jump out of his skin with pure horror.

What– why– Oh god...

“You’re my little spider now.”

#homelander #homelander x oc #homelander fanfiction #the boys #homelander x reader #the boys fanfic #the benlander agenda

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icarus-does-fall · 8 months ago

Text

Alr alr

Simon x piercer/tattooer reader

I did my best to make my idea a thing 🤷‍♂️

Dub-con!! Trans Simon but it's not a major plot point, might make another one where it is

I just have brainrot and productive energy

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤. .𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

Simon “Ghost” Riley, a simple man. A stoic and dealy man. A man who was claimed to have no emotions, no connections. To be a ghost. Yet whenever you were around, he seemed to be less of a ghost, he seemed to be human.

Then there was you. You were bright and filled with life, colourful to say the least as you were covered in tattoos and piercing, after all that was your job. The cherry on top, you loved- sometimes you loved too much and got yourself hurt.

He was spending almost all his money on booking appointments at your shop, he never had valid reasons to see you outside your parlour just to see you, feel you. Yet you never minded, Simon was polite, while he didn't always hold the best conversations he never made you feel uncomfortable like some of your other clients did.

Plus maybe you had started to develop a slight crush on the rugged soldier that was constantly spending his free time with you instead of going out with his mates. He made you laugh, smile, and he had an oddly safe feeling about him.

Simon had been away on deployment for nearly a year and the first thing he did when he got back was book something with you. It was a piercing, and one of a particularly sensitive nature- He was asking to get a jacob's ladder done.

You almost didn't agree. You liked the guy and piercing his dick? That seemed to cross a few too many lines, yes it was your job but you were still human and sometimes it is difficult to separate work from life. Simon instead though, he trusted you, you had the experience with it, and he wanted that specific piercing done.

So stealing your emotions and doing your best to lock them all away in a cage so deep within you it wouldn’t be easily found you waited for Simon's appointment time, getting everything ready in the back room- You doubted the man wanted to expose himself to everyone else in the shop… A low blush rose to your cheeks as your thoughts tried to wander about.

What if he liked the public scene?

After all, you didn't know much about Simon other than what simple conversation would allow. He had a dog- A german shepherd. He smoked, sometimes you’d smoke with him. His best mate was named Soap and he drank whiskey. And he was possibly trans? One of the first tattoos you did for him was scar coverups on his chest, but you weren't going to ask any questions. Scar cover ups were one of your specialties. Most people came to you for those types of tattoos specifically.

But his more personal details? Those you weren’t sure about.

Quicker than you thought the time for Simon's appointment showed up. He walked into the shop, looming like a shadow, before seeing you at the counter and his entire mood lightened up.

“Hey lovie.”

You rolled your eyes with a soft laugh. “Hey again Si, fill out your paperwork, I’ll get everything set up in the back for you. And how's that last tat treating you? It heal okay?”

Simon shrugged and then rolled up his sleeve, the newest addition was still slightly red but the tattoo seemed to have healed without issue. It was a bundle of wisteria flowers, one of the few tattoos that you were given full control over. It was just a space filler.

“It’s fine, the lads thought it was too… girly ‘suppose but I like it just fine.”

You pouted playfully while heading to the back room. “Aw ‘just fine’? Thought we’ve moved into actual compliments before you left, you get tired of talking all that much on deployment or somethin?”

Simon merely huffed as he filled out his paperwork and then placed it on the counter. He liked talking to you, he did. Just sometimes his words failed him.

After a few minutes you were ready and called him back. He listened like a well trained dog, raising from where he was sitting without a work and went to where you were. If he had a tail it would be wagging.

Simon closed the door behind him and simply stood there a bit awkwardly as you had just finished wrapping the chair for him to sit on. Your face flushed slightly, it wouldn’t have been noticeable if Simon was as trained as he was to notice the small details.

“You gotta strip Si-” Now your blush was noticeable, it flared brightly. “Not! Not completely! But you gotta lose the trousers before you sit down-”

Simon chuckled slightly at your flustered state. And whether he meant to or if it was all subconsciously done, he slowly undid his belt and took off his pants. You had to force yourself not to stare at him. He took his spot on the chair and got comfortable to the point it’d be easier for you to pierce him.

You rolled your chair in between his legs, your tray of tools right next to you. You looked up at him, doing your damnedest to stay professional. “This will hurt, like… a lot Simon.”

He nodded and sighed out softly, he was thanking every god possible right now that he had his mask on to hide his own flushed face. “I know, go ahead.”

Now Simon wasn’t huge by any means, but he wasn’t small either, but he was girthy. Something that sparked your interest though was the scar lines down there. He unknowingly sent butterflies straight to your stomach as you tried not to blatantly stare at his half exposed body.

With a steady hand but a shaky resolve you took his dick into your hand, tentatively wiping it down with a alcohol wipe and then marking where the piercings needed to go. You were doing three this session. Simon tensed up under your touch and a soft groan slipped past his lips as you began. You froze, mistaking that groan for discomfort and not something else.

“You alright Si, something feel wrong?”

He merely shook his head and then nodded, gesturing for you to continue. You did.

So you lined up the needle with the first mark and went through the skin.

“Fuck! Jesus lovie! Can't give a guy some warning before you stab ‘em?”

You chuckled sheepishly. “Sorry about that Si… First one alway hurts more than the rest, and we still gotta put the barbell in too.”

“Christ-” Simon sighed and laid his head back against the hair, he was trying not to pant or focus on how your hand felt wrapped around his dick- Or the thoughts that followed. He doubted you even liked him, plus it was damn near unprofessional to think like that while you were working.

You apologised once more before putting the barbell into the first piercing, Simon let out another groan as you did that, and then you wiped down the piercing, cleaning it of the small bits of blood that’d showed up. Then you moved onto the second one. Simon's groans got a bit louder and he was biting his lip to hold back the moans that threatened to slip out. The third one went in without issue as well, but by now Simons dick was aching- From both the piercings and how you had been handling him.

He was all but dripping precum with each new piercing and touch of your hand, which you both were trying to ignore. Your heart was racing and your face flushed, Simon was refusing to look in your direction as you worked.

As you pulled away after finishing cleaning him and then took your gloves off you casted a glance over towards Simon. “How's it look? Everything feel okay?”

Simon laid still for a few moments after you began your clean up before he sat up slightly and looked to see how the piercings were done, forgetting just for a moment that you were in the room and ran a hand across the piercings.

He unintentionally came with that action of his. All over the chair and his thighs. He groaned out quietly and moaned and then he blushed hard, becoming nothing but a flustered and stuttering mess.

“Fuck lovie- That wasnt supposed to, ain’t mean to… ‘M not that used to having it yet… I'm sorry, fuck im sorry lovie, makin a mess all over your work stuff not professional at all.”

Your face had gotten bright red and you’d froze in your spot, your eyes couldn’t help but to be drawn towards Simon's leaking dick which was now covered in cum. His words pulled out of your mini trance and hurriedly gave him a few paper towels to clean up with, but he was too focused on apologising to realise you were trying to help.

Taking a breath you tried to steel your nerves and then placed your hand on Simon's calf. It's what was closest to you and you didn’t want to make him- or you comfortable. “Si, calm down- it’s okay honestly… You think you're the first guy who's been a little sensitive after this type of piercing?”

Simon's blush was now visible, even underneath his mask, and he was still avoiding looking at you as he cleaned himself up. His words were mumbled and hard to hear and he was still slightly hard making things worse. “Well… Probably the first to like you as ya do it… As it happens…”

You still heard him though, and you bit your lip while trying to find the words. What were you supposed to do? Admit your possible feelings while he was half naked and covered in cum? Well… you probably shouldn’t but you wanted it. He was a sight to see like that, hell he was whining and desperate for forgiveness. That sight, those feelings, it made your stomach coil.

So what did you do? Breaking all your rules, every boundary you’d been trying to set this entire session, you touched him without having a job to do. Your hands traced along his bottom surgery scars- Simons hands stilled and he looked up at you confused.

“Wha-”

Your hands trailed down to caress his dick and gently you milked out the rest of his come. Simon's eyes fluttered closed and he was reduced to a moaning mess. “L-lovie, what are you doing? Wh-why? What?”

You continued to stroke Simon's dick, careful to avoid the piercings you just placed, technically, for everything to heal correctly you shouldn't have been doing that but you were being careful. “Just wanna show you it's okay, nothing to be sorry for, yaknow?”

Another strangled moan fell past Simon's lips and his dick was twitching in your hands, you looked up at him through your lashes and then leaned forward, kitten licking his tip for a few moments before fully licking him clean. One of his hands ended up threaded through your hair, not wanting you to pull away just yet until there wasn't any cum left.

Finally when you pulled away after he’d been cleaned up, he was gripping onto the chairs armrests and panting softly, you on the other hand while blushing looked similar to how a cat looks after catching the canary.

“Well damn lovie… Fuckin hell… Wasn’t expecting that type of aftercare-”

“You taste pretty good Si…” You laughed softly and licked your lips, “Can I get another taste later?”

Simon groaned out softly and slouched back against the chair he was sitting in again as he caught his breath and once his head was clear he got dressed again and then bit his lip as he walked over towards where you were.

“You're a different type of crazy lovie, make things interesting… It’s why you're my favourite.” He sighed and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “Coffee sometime then?- Or dinner?”

You laughed and kissed Simon's cheek through his mask. “I do what I can~ And I would love to, been wanting that for a while actually.”

#cod #simon riley #ghost x reader #trans ghost #simon riley x reader #smut #dubc0n #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #the brainrot is brainrotting

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ladyeyrewrites · 25 days ago

Text

Bun in the Oven

Rated M

Chapter 4/4

The final chapter of the trans!Tommy mpreg 8x07 rewrite

Read from Chapter One

Read on Ao3 or below the cut.

After the cookies were done and Jee had eaten far too many of them, Buck plopped her down in front of the TV to watch Daniel Tiger. She was on the verge of getting too old for the show and Buck knew he’d have to figure out a replacement sooner rather than later, but for now Jee seemed content to watch it. Once Jee was settled, Buck helped Tommy with the rest of the clean-up.

“I saw you almost texted me today,” Buck said, taking the rinsed mixing bowl from Tommy and drying it off. They wouldn’t get into another shouting match if Jee was there and Buck itched to know what Tommy had been going to say, why he’d changed his mind, why he’d come over. He wanted to know if he was allowed to give into hope or not.

“Of course you saw that.” Tommy shook his head ruefully, a fond smile tugging the corners of his lips. At least, Buck hoped it was fond. “Thought better of sending you a “can we talk?” text in the middle of your shift,” Tommy said. “Didn’t want to distract you, but I guess I did that anyway.”

“Yeah,” said Buck. “But I’ve had a hard time think about anything beside you-know-what.” Jee didn’t seem to be paying attention, but you never knew with kids and the last thing he wanted was news of Tommy’s pregnancy getting back to Maddie prematurely. “I’m sure it’s been worse for you though. I mean it’s happening to your body. I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

“Terrifying,” said Tommy. He started wiping down the counter.

“I’m sorry,” said Buck. And he was sorry that there wasn’t more he could do to help Tommy through this.

“It’s not your fault,” said Tommy. “It would’ve been fine if my insurance hadn’t dropped my old doctor.”

“Still, you can’t deny that I played a part in this,” said Buck. “Unless you believe in immaculate conception.”

Tommy snorted. “Pretty sure the Vatican would have a field day if they caught wind of you comparing the Virgin Mary to a knocked up trans guy.”

Buck shook his head, glad Tommy was feeling well enough to make a joke about it. He wanted nothing more than to delve straight into the conversation, but Jee was still awake, and they had at least another hour before Maddie and Chimney were supposed to pick her up. “Wanna watch Daniel Tiger?” Buck asked motioning to the sofa.

“Sure,” said Tommy and there was a hint of that crinkle-nosed grin Buck loved so much.

They settled in on either side of Jee and continued watching episode after episode well past the time when Jee had fallen asleep, curled up against Tommy’s side. And Buck gave in.

He dared to dream.

To envision that this was their future: Tommy and him sitting on the sofa with their kid asleep between them, binging episodes of a kid’s TV show because they didn’t dare turn it off in case the kid woke up. And he so desperately wanted that dream to become a reality. He couldn’t lie to himself about that, not anymore.

Even if he was only setting himself up for devastation.

Maddie and Chimney let themselves back into the loft, tiptoeing around the corner until they caught sight of Tommy.

Both their eyebrows shot up at the sight of him trapped by the sleeping Jee. Maddie shot Buck a questioning look.

Buck shrugged.

Chimney scooped Jee up and bundled her out the door while Maddie hovered.

“Are you back together?” she asked.

Buck looked to Tommy whose calm demeanour vanished under wide-eyed, palm-sweating panic. “We haven’t had the chance to decide that yet,” said Tommy.

“Kinda hard to talk about with a kid around, huh?” said Maddie.

“Yeah,” said Buck, but he couldn’t help but notice that Tommy hadn’t said no in answer to Maddie’s question and that only served to build the tower of hope teetering inside him, ready to be knocked down with a single word from Tommy. “I’ll, uh, call you tomorrow.”

“Good,” said Maddie. “Because I want to know everything.” And then she hugged Buck and followed her husband and kid out of the loft.

Buck locked the door behind his sister and turned to Tommy. “So,” he said. “I guess we need to talk.”

“Yeah,” said Tommy. He still seemed nervous, hesitant, as though he was afraid of how Buck was going to react to what he had to say.

That did not seem like a good sign to Buck, but he waited for Tommy to gather his words.

“I want to keep the baby,” Tommy blurted out all of a sudden and hope soared through Buck. Hope and joy and fear because Tommy still seemed anxious and why was Tommy anxious? “And I don’t think it’d be fair to you to keep your kid from you. Not with how much you love kids and how much I know you want to be a dad.”

Buck grinned, relief flooding through him. “Okay,” he said. “I want that too. I want to be there for you and our kid.” And then he realised that Tommy hadn’t said anything about the possibility of them getting back together and he deflated a little. “What does that mean for us?” he asked.

Tommy sighed. “When you gave me that speech about how much you admire me, it made me uncomfortable,” he said. “Like you’d built me up into some paragon of queer triumph over adversity. It made me wonder if you even saw me for me. If you even liked me or just the idea of me that you’d built up in your head.”

“Oh God, I did do that, didn’t I?” Buck groaned. “I was trying to compliment you.”

“I know,” said Tommy. “But it made me put my guard up.”

“And then I went full Buck and asked you to move in with me even though you already have a house,” said Buck shaking his head. “That was thoughtless of me. I guess, I just wanted to show you how I felt, and I didn’t know how else to do it.” He shook his head. “I’d probably have been scared to.”

“It wasn’t just how sudden everything felt.” Tommy sighed “I meant what I said when I broke up with you. As much as I want to be you last, I know that I’m not.”

All joy, Buck had felt burnt up in the rage that Buck had kept banked inside him since the night of the breakup. “I think that’s for me to decide,” he said. “And you’re wrong about you being my first. Sure, you’re my first boyfriend, but you’re not the first person I’ve ever loved. You’re the first person I’ve ever truly seen a future with. And okay, maybe I rushed things asking you to move in with me and talking about marriage and kids before telling you I loved you. Maybe I should have done a better job at telling you that I see the real you and I love the real you. I love you and I want to be with you, and it’s not just because of the baby. I don’t know why you think that I’ll break your heart, but don’t I deserve the chance to prove you wrong?”

Tommy stared at him in stunned silence, eyes glassy with gathering tears. “You’re right,” he said at last. “I should’ve told you about my past and I shouldn’t have let my fear get in the way of us having an actual conversation.”

Buck sighed. Hesitantly, he reached out and put a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, rubbing his thumb against Tommy’s bicep. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

Tommy heaved a massive breath. “I don’t know that I’m ready yet,” he admitted. “And you’re right about what you said the other day: the baby complicates things. I believe what you’re saying, but there’s always going to be a part of me that wonders if I’m holding you back from finding your person. If you’re only staying with me because of the baby.”

“I get it,” said Buck. “If I was in your shoes, I’d be scared of the same thing. But at some point, you’ve got to let go of the fear and just trust me. Trust me the same way you trusted Hen and Chimney and flew into a hurricane.”

Tommy laughed. “Are you comparing our relationship to a hurricane, Evan?” he asked.

“Maybe,” said Buck. “I’m not saying you’re not right to be scared. Pregnancy and parenthood are supposed to be scary, and I can’t even imagine the amount of dysphoria this is causing you which probably makes it worse.”

“You’re not wrong there,” said Tommy.

“But I need you to listen to me when I tell you that wanting to be with you and wanting to be there for the baby aren’t the same thing and I want both. Even if you get scared sometimes. Even if you yell sometimes or you don’t feel strong. You’re allowed to show me those sides of yourself. I mean, you’ve seen all my jealousy and insecurity and weirdness. Let me see yours.”

Tommy sighed, but he leaned into Buck, letting his head rest on Buck’s shoulder as he wrapped his arms around Buck’s waist. “What if we get back together and we have this kid, and it doesn’t work out and our kid ends up caught in the crossfire?”

Buck put a hand to the back of Tommy’s head, petting his hair in gentle circles. “I don’t know what the future holds and neither do you,” he said. “Because whatever guy broke your heart in the past, I’m not him. And I can’t promise you that things will be perfect. No relationship is. I mean the number of times Maddie and Chim called it quits before deciding to just be together is crazy considering how perfect they are for each other.” He shook his head. “My point is, we can’t know what’s going to happen until we try. And no matter what happens, I know that we’ll both put our kid’s happiness before our own because we both know what it’s like to have parents who didn’t do that for us.”

Buck felt Tomy nod against his neck. “You’re right,” he said.

“It happens sometimes,” said Buck.

Tommy chuckled. “Don’t let it go to your head.” He leaned back, just enough to look Buck in the eye without letting go. “I got so scared of losing you that I convinced myself it was inevitable, and I decided it was better to lose you on my terms than to have it come out of the blue.”

Buck shook his head. “Guess I’m not the only idiot around here,” he said.

“God, our kid’s not going to stand a chance,” said Tommy, deadpan.

“Oh yeah, we’re going to have our hands full,” Buck laughed and hugged Tommy closer. “So, what do you want to do, Tommy?” he was glad he couldn’t see whatever play of emotions was currently staging itself across Tommy’s face.

“I want everything you talked about the night we broke up,” said Tommy. “I’ve wanted that from the start. I just didn’t think I could have it because I didn’t think I’d ever be enough for someone as wonderful as you. I thought we’d move in together and the image you have of me would shatter and there was no way you’d be able to love that guy.” Tommy drew in a deep breath. “But I want to move in together – my house not your loft, though. It’s not child friendly. I want to raise our kid together. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I’ve always wanted that. I just thought you wouldn’t. Not with me, anyway.”

“Yeah, well, you thought wrong,” said Buck. “Because I do want that. Do you trust that I want that? That I want you? That I will always want you? And you don’t need to worry about my image of you shattering, because that kinda happened the night you broke up with me. And I still love you. Hell, I think maybe I love you even more.”

Tommy took a deep breath. “Yeah, I trust you, Evan.”

For the first time in days, Buck felt relieved. “You know when you shouted at me the other day.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Tommy groaned. “My emotions have been all over the place. And I guess now we know why.”

Buck grinned. “Actually, it was kinda hot seeing you all messed up like that.”

Tommy snorted. “So my crisis was a turn on?” he leaned in towards Buck.

And Buck couldn’t help himself. He scooped Tommy’s face closer to his and captured Tommy’s bottom lip and Tommy tasted like home and promise and family and forever.

It wasn’t an easy pregnancy.

There was the added stress of moving in together and decorating a nursery and deciding to go to counselling together so they could truly work through everything. But beyond that, Tommy existed in a constant state of dysphoria for the next thirty weeks and, while Buck did what he could by covering the mirrors and info dumping about how male sea horses and sea dragons carry their litters to term after the female transfers the fertilised eggs to the male’s brood pouch and so really being pregnant wasn’t an exclusively female situation after all and that seemed to help.

That and Buck tracked down a few companies that made masculine and gender-neutral pregnancy apparel because Tommy had been worried about being forced to finish off his pregnancy wearing earth mother sun dresses.

But none of that could really touch the dysphoria brought on by Tommy having to pause his testosterone or the physical changes to his body. All Buck could really do was be there for Tommy and listen.

And then Tommy hit the thirty-eight-week mark, and their son decided it was time to enter the world, slightly ahead of his new cousin (Buck only learned Maddie was pregnant after she revealed the news to him after he and Tommy had shared their news once Tommy had made it past the first trimester).

And holding his son in his arms for the first time – his perfect, tiny son that he’d actually get to keep – Buck couldn’t help but feel grateful to himself that he’d fought to have this moment. That he hadn’t just let the universe dictate who he’d end up with but had instead chosen to fight for Tommy and had talked Tommy into fighting for them despite his fears.

“Look,” he said to Tommy as he placed their son on Tommy’s chest. “Look at what we made.”

Tommy grinned. “He’s perfect.”

@silversky9 @unhingedangstaddict @ironspiderdad12 @beanarie @sporadicmakerwerewolf @azaharinflames @aisatsana441 @bugboybuck

#bucktommy #bucktommy fic #tevan #tommy kinard #evan buck buckely #mpreg #pregnant tommy kinard #trans tommy kinard #8x07 rewrite #completed

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scekrex · 9 months ago

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I’ve been feeling a lil dysphoric lately cause of shark week, do you think you could write something where Adam praises reader and raising his confidence? :,) also, I love ur work so much, it’s all so good 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Okay so I paused the smut I was writing to write this prompt instead bc my shark week ended a couple hours ago and I feel your vibe soooo much homeboy, just know that you're doing great okay? I'm proud of you <3 also I was a selfish lil asshole 'n' gave this a trans!male!reader undertone - it turned out a lil short but I hope you like it nonetheless and that it helps you a little, much love/p

Little soldier

pairing: Adam x trans!male!reader

warnings: language

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

You looked up as Adam flopped down next to you on the couch, the first man was quick to pull you in his lap once he found a position that he considered comfortable. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on your shoulder as his soft voice made you relax even more, “How’s my handsome man doin’?” You leaned into his touch immediately, desperate for the comfort his body warmth, scent and voice were offering. You hadn’t been that amazing for the past couple days and of course Adam had noticed and while he still wasn’t the best when it came to providing comfort with his words - he was learning how to do that though, knowing that you needed it every now and then - he was able to praise you, shower you in affirmation and love, and - of course - hugs and kisses. Your body felt icky, wrong even, more than it usually did and that state was affecting you mentally, draining you and making you want to hide underneath a gigantic warm blanket covered in Adam’s scent until it would eventually get better. You responded with an uncertain hum, you wanted to shrug your shoulders but due to Adam’s head resting on one of them you didn’t. You wanted the brunette to stay as close as possible. “Already?” he asked and once again you only responded in the form of a hum, this time an agreeing one with a light nod of your head underlining the quiet sound.

His arms around you tightened as he wrapped his wings around both of your bodies, the tips of his feathers gently brushed your chin and that caused your lips to curl up in a tiny smile, you loved it when he did that, loved it when he used them to shield your body away from the world and their judging eyes. And though no one was looking at you besides Adam - how could anyone, you were at home after all, just him and you - it felt good, made you feel a little more comfortable given the situation. “I’m fucking proud of you,” he mumbled as he turned his head slightly to press a soft kiss against your neck. You tilted your head to the opposite side, offering your neck to the first man, silently asking for more kisses, more soft spoken words that would ease the negative feelings you were feeling. “Holding up so fucking well for both you ‘n’ me, babes,” he continued to speak as he placed yet another kiss near your collar bone, he wouldn’t take this further, he wouldn’t try and place kisses lower than that, he knew that just as well as you did and you were grateful for it. The brunette didn’t stop at just two sloppy praises though, not when he knew that you were going through something, and though he’d never fully understand your feelings, he did accept them and never played them down. He knew that was important to you and he respected that. “I love you,” that statement was followed my a firmer kiss against your jaw, “So fucking much.” Adam rarely used the words, he saved them for vulnerable moments like this one. He was more of an actions guy than a words guy so he usually showed his love towards you by acting like he meant it. Hearing it, however, made you fully smile, not just a tiny one either. He knew you loved him too, he didn’t need to hear it back, you didn’t feel like talking and he respected that, yet he wanted you to know. “My badass little soldier,” usually you’d argue about how you weren’t that little, how Adam was just a fucking giant, but right now you haven’t had the energy to do so, so you took the praise as it was without arguing. When his lips brushed against the shell of your ear, you shuddered lightly, he noticed of course but decided to leave it uncommented. This wasn’t the right time for jokes and he was more than aware of it, he’d save his cocky comments for later, for when you’d be better.

“Fighting so fucking good,” he whispered in your ear and a kiss on your temple followed those loving words. Oh how you loved his soft side - yes he could be a jackass, but he truly loved you, the comfort he was trying to provide showed it and you were very grateful for it, surely it would be a lot harder to go through those phases without him - he was some sort of guardian angel to you. “I fucking promise this’ll be over one fucking day,” was it a promise he could keep? You didn’t know, but that didn’t matter. Not now, not when he was there, making it easier to live through this. “Babes,” he hummed as one of his hands came up to slightly turn your head towards him, your eyes locked with his and you saw the love they held for you and only you. That was something that eased your mind a little. He could have anyone - everyone - yet he had fallen in love with you. “You’re the most perfect boyfriend Father could’ve sent me,” he finished his sentence and then sealed his words with a kiss on your lips, a gentle one, there was nothing intended, nothing this would lead to, a simple yet so meaningful kiss. “I love you too,” you mumbled against his lips before you pulled Adam in another loving kiss.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you #trans reader

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whatisreggieshortfor · 1 year ago

Text

Didn’t Need To

Nishinoya x trans!m!reader

For my dear friend @dami1314

This one is shorter, sorry for that.

Nishinoya had always been vocal.

He was loud, and blunt, and crass, but he was never quiet. Not since the day you met him at the start of middle school. Not when he joined the volleyball club, not when you announced that you’d be joining him at Karasuno, not when you came out, and especially not when anyone tried to bully you as you transitioned. Coach Ukai couldn’t let you play for the team during matches, but thanks to your best friend’s persistence he agreed to let you participate in practices.

There was nothing Noya wasn’t vocal about.

Which is why you couldn’t figure out what he wasn’t telling you.

You were both second years together now, he’s been your best friend for five years, and he told you everything.

But when you accidentally admitted your budding feelings to Kiyoko after practice one day, you didn’t expect him to start avoiding talking to you a few days later. You hadn’t thought he heard you, too busy roughhousing with Tanaka and Hinata, but suddenly it was like you were getting the very strange cold shoulder.

It wasn’t abrupt or constant.

It was like he would just… forget that he was avoiding you.

One point he’s ranting and raving about something he thinks is the coolest thing he’s ever seen, but when you go to say something to him ten minutes later he’s like a deer in the headlights before he’s running away.

Which led to one conclusion, right?

The thing he wasn’t telling had to have been a rejection. He must’ve heard you talking to Kiyoko and couldn’t figure out how to keep your friendship intact when he finally told you he didn’t feel the same way.

But it felt like it was only a matter of time before it fell apart anyway.

So you started skipping practices. Dodging past his teammates in the halls between classes. Rain checking hangouts. You weren’t going to pressure him, didn’t want to make him feel like he had to accept you. You knew how he felt about Kiyoko, he didn’t want a guy . He didn’t want you.

He was still your best friend though.

And as easily as you could notice the even minor changes in his actions, he could read the changes in yours.

So maybe you shouldn’t have been surprised when the persistent knocking at your front door revealed him standing on the other side, looking panicked and disheveled and outright distraught.

“I don’t like this!” He announced immediately, charging past you and into your own home before you could really even open the door far enough for a normal person to fit through. “How have I gone from seeing you all the time every day to an hour a few days apart?”

You shrugged, arms wrapping around your torso like you need to protect yourself. God, you never used to feel that way around him. “I mean talking to Kiyoko-“

“She spilled the beans.” If you weren’t losing yourself in your own head, you would’ve realized he wasn’t confirming what you thought.

He was coming to his own realization.

“Guess so.” You nodded, “And it’s okay. We’re friends and I don’t expect you to force more and-“

“Wait, what?” The way his face twisted in confusion reminded you of studying together and he wasn’t quite grasping the material you were going over.

And your brow furrowed in response, “She told you, right?”

“I thought she told you.”

“What do you think she told me?” It could’ve made you laugh, how you spoke at the same time like you had so many times before, if you hadn’t been so confused.

But then you spoke at the same time again.

“That I really like you.”

“That I think I’m falling for you.”

The two of you froze, but…

Nishinoya had always been vocal. Especially about the things he wants.

“You like me!?” His eyes were shining, you could practically see the stars in them as he looked up at you, “When I saw you guys talking- and then she mentioned I should talk to you about a crush- I assumed she had told you!”

“Hold on a second-“ You waved your hands, your thoughts floating around, “So… you’ve been avoiding me… and I’ve been avoiding you…”

“But neither of us needed to.” He grinned, big and wide like he’d struck the lottery instead of realizing you were just both being stupid.

“No,” you laughed with him, “We didn’t seem to need to.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu male reader #haikyuu trans male reader #haikyuu x trans male reader #haikyuu nishinoya #haikyuu noya #noya x reader #noya x male reader #noya x trans male reader

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rattycattyfanfic · 6 months ago

Note

if you're still taking writing suggestions: t4t adamanda on a run 2 the grocery store? (i am so desperate for t4t adamanda crumbs though i would take anything at all LMAO)

t4t adamanda my beloved!!! what if we were 2 grotty smokers going jigsaw food shopping and we were both trans and traumatised. have this idk!!

737 words (woohoo!), brief mentions of canonical starving & trauma

She feels far away, swaddled in John’s too-big hoodie and hidden under the shadow of a baseball cap as she browses rows of gaudy plastic packaging. Her mind is abuzz with the logistics of the latest trap, counting down the seconds they have to do the weekly grocery run before she has to get back to him. She can barely focus on the snacks in front of her, the frosty soda cans, and so after a brief glance behind her, she snags a random packet with barely a glimpse at the label. John’s credit card is burning a hole through the pocket of her cargo pants, and yet she squirrels the mystery bag safely inside her hoodie – pure instinct, muscle memory.

“Hurry it up, idiot,” she grunts, scuffing her boots against linoleum until she’s hovering at Adam’s shoulder. “We’ve gotta get back.” Her hip knocks into his, and the poor guy startles for half a second, freezing before rolling his eyes and shaking his head. His hair is getting longer, a little scruffy, but it looks good on him, somehow, in the same way that ugly JNCOs and his increasingly gaunt eye bags look good on him.

“Yeah, right,” he mutters, “Whatever,” and pushes an armful of snacks into her hands. Amanda works her jaw slightly and resettles herself, struggles not to drop anything. It’s all shit, pure shit, Doritos and deli meats and snack cakes, and she smothers the laugh that threatens to bubble up, because it’s exactly what she’d pick too. She glances up, winces at the fluorescents, and Adam is already trailing towards the till. She follows absently, compelled to stay close as if he’s still her captive and not now one of them. There’s always the risk that he’ll run, crumble under the weight of their job and go straight to the cops laden with indisputable evidence, but somehow Amanda knows Adam wouldn’t.

He’s too much like her. Too much like her, and people like them rarely get along well with the authorities.

Adam has gathered even more snacks on the way to the till, a helpless kid picking up every vaguely appealing thing he sees. It makes her want to roll her eyes, and then it makes her feel sick. She remembers getting him out of that bathroom, keeping him on her couch – half-hostage, half-patient – and feeding him until his belly hurt, reminding him to eat slower, steadier as she’d nursed him back to health. Guilt wriggles in her gut, and she can’t bring herself to needle him about John’s poor credit card. Thing is probably fucking bottomless anyway. She’ll let Adam have this.

He’s pointing out a carton of cigarettes when she dumps the armful of so-called groceries at the till, mumbling and directing the cashier’s arm like a fucking claw machine. “No, not those – stop, yeah, that’s it,” he chirps, and snatches them up greedily before they even hit the counter. He gestures vaguely towards Amanda, a little sheepish, and the cashier looks at her expectantly.

“John would have a conniption,” she says and hands the cashier John’s card, eying the cigarettes, the way Adam’s fingers edge along the packaging, already tearing at plastic and cardboard. He gives himself away in moments like this, aggravated movements over a cigarette carton, a frustrated edge that he tries to keep hidden under quick jokes and dopey grins. Their shared late-night cigarette breaks are probably the only thing keeping him together, some days.

“Probably,” Adam agrees with a shrug, and bounces on his toes a little, antsy. “I’ll bum you one,” he offers, and edges towards the automatic door.

“Yeah, you will,” Amanda grumbles, and pushes one of the polythene bags full of his stupid snacks into his hands. Adam rolls his eyes, mutters something under his breath, but he takes the bag and quirks the very corner of his lips, and for a moment they are just two stupid people. Later, that stupid oaf of a detective will yell at them for buying absolutely nothing of nutritional value, and the two of them will smoke a cigarette under the cover of that leaky tin roof outside the warehouse and talk about nothing. She’ll share her shoplifted snacks with him, whatever they turn out to be, and maybe someone will get the other off with hands and mouth, unabashed and hedonistic, and they’ll just be two people in this shitstorm of a life.

#saw #adamanda #adam faulkner stanheight #amanda young #prompt #asks #answered #anon #drabble #fluff #angst #2024

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redcoralpot · 1 year ago

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Would you be willing to write a poly Billy x Stu x reader (preferably trans ftm) where Y/N is such like a gender fluid icon

One day he’ll be painting his nails, begging the boys to paint their nails aswell, and then the next day he’s wearing some band shirt, having Stu take pictures of him with the camera Billy got him, flexing the small but masculine body he has

Oh, and a one shot preferably pls

Thxs! And if your uncomfortable w/ this what’s so ever feel free to js ignore !

🫶❤️

Eleganti - Poly Stuilly X FTM!Reader

Summary: The heat has managed to affect all of you, and the only solution? A date at Stu's house with a dash of nail polish. You're sure they were both thrilled.

Warnings: Slight mentions of body dysphoria.

Word Count: 970

A/N: This is for my fellow trans men, enjoy! Can't believe I have to say this nowadays, but fem aligned DNI, this content is not for you. I know how Scream fangirls like to play when it comes to MLM characters and fans.

The summer heat truly had gotten to the three of you, with not even a cool breeze to give you relief. Rich boy Stu Macher’s parents were away for the weekend, again, which left his house the ideal place to take shelter in. If you had to be honest, you did not mind the temperature– kind of. The bottles of nail polish in your bag clinked together as you walked up the stairs; you knew Billy would be able to sit still long enough for it to dry. Stu, on the other hand, you weren’t so sure of. Not without heat and plenty of air flow.

Speaking of the devil, Billy glanced up from his book as you creaked the door open, leisurely spread on Stu’s bed. He raised an eyebrow at your appearance, before going back to reading, shifting a little to the side so you had more room to sit down. A smug grin slowly spread over your lips as you set your backpack down on the bed and unzipped it, making a show of the little, colorful bottles you displayed inside. You scooched beside it, and after setting down a towel in front of you, cracked open the first container.

Seeming to catch the smell, Billy spoke up, “Nail polish?”

“Yeah, want some?” He watched as you meticulously picked the colors you wanted, his mouth pursing.

“Not right now.”

You shrugged, applying a lavender base to your fingernails, “Suit yourself!”

Your hand flinched as the door was shoved open, smearing the liquid down your skin, only to be greeted by the eccentric figure of Stu. Upon seeing the predicament he caused, he bounced his shoulders and held up his hands beside his head, with an exaggerated frown.

“Uh… whoops!”

He sauntered over, pressing his face into your shoulder. In response, you slapped the towel onto his face after wiping the spilled polish on the material. Stu grumbled something; it was ineligible.

It eventually slid off on its own, with a little help from the teen shaking his head, “Suffocate me, why don’t you?”

Chuckling, you said, “You were the one who made me mess up, tough guy.”

“I totally meant for that to happen.” He slipped his arm over you, hanging like a sloth.

“If you meant it, then you have to be my test subject!”

Stu made a noise, contemplating. You wouldn’t force him to wear it, of course, but it was funny threatening something so harmless anyway. After just a few seconds, you felt the weight on your back release; Stu had moved in favor of shoving your bag into Billy to make space for himself. Then, the noodle of a guy flopped across from you, sitting criss-crossed with the most shit eating grin you have ever seen. Billy scowled at the rough treatment, but the expression was covered by the other’s knee.

He leaned forward, “Gimme orange.”

“Good choice!”

To prevent smearing, you blew on your covered nails as best you could, before bright orange coated the tiny brush in your hand. Stu seemed giddy as you took his hand, peering down, applying the cool liquid with precision. It was such a contrast to what his hand felt like; rough and as warm as a furnace. In the corner of your eye, you could see Billy’s eyes watching over Stu’s jeans, his book long forgotten. Finally, you finished, and allowed the fidgety boy to hold up his palms. His eyes were wide as he admired your handiwork, flexing his fingers with pride.

Stu tapped the top of Billy’s head with his elbow, “Hey, dude, want some of this?”

“Hm.”

“C’mon—”

“Black.”

You snickered, “I knew you’d crack.”

Billy rolled his eyes and leaned on Stu, holding out a hand. He shivered when you made a slight mistake, and gave you an unimpressed look as you fixed it with the edge of your towel. You could only complete one hand before he stopped you.

“Look who’s gonna be Cruella this Halloween!” Stu sneered, poking the other’s nose.

“Hey, hey, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” You shut the bottle, carefully sealing them all back in your bag, “Fuddy duddy William could be making a new trend.”

“Never call me that again. Is this enough for you two?”

Stu cocked his head, “Lemme think… nope.”

You stretched your body out, setting your belongings on the ground. Opening Stu’s own closet, you ran your fingers over the variety of shirts and robes the guy had. In the very back, there was a band shirt, obviously too small for Stu; he grew out of it by the time he was sixteen. You held it out, studying it, before shrugging and taking it off the hanger. Your shirt flew over your head and smacked Stu in the face, but the air soothed the sweat that was gathering under your double sport bras, at least for a moment. Then, the newer shirt covered everything back up, and the dark material banned anyone from clocking the extra layers underneath.

“Why don’t we go out for ice cream?” you suggested.

Stu pumped his fist, even though your shirt was still clinging to his body. Billy shook his head, a little smile playing on his lips when Stu ran out the door, presumably to get his car keys. You, on the other hand, hesitated when you saw a shadow underneath the shirt, where your chest lay. The only other boy left in the room must have caught on, because you felt a passing hand on your shoulder and a whisper in your ear.

“You look fine, it’s normal.”

He met your gaze. However, someone was getting impatient, as a muffled shout rang through the closed window, “Coming? I’m totally getting pistachio this time, and you gotta be here to see me try it!”

#x male reader #male reader #trans male reader #stuilly #male y/n #gay #transgender #lgbtq #poly ghostface x reader #billy loomis #stu macher #scream 1996 #scream franchise #scream movies #fnaf

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gothamslostboy · 2 years ago

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Hi me again! Could I request Spencer Reid x trans male reader (ftm) with the prompts

“Please stay” and “It’s cold when your gone”

Where the 2 r js cuddling bc some asshole at y/ns work said some shit abt him being trans

Maybe a bit of making out but fs like kisses

Ty luv 🫶

- 🦭

A/N: hey 🦭, thank you for my first ever Spencer Reid request! This was a great experience to write and I hope you like it:]

Meliorism

WORDS: 850

MELIORISM (n.) the belief that the world gets better; the belief that humans can improve the world

Spencer Reid x FTM reader

SPENCER YOU

Spencer had 3 main amazing talents. His eidetic memory, which allowed him to recall the tiniest visual details of the things he sees, even if briefly. Reid could also read 20,000 words a minute, finishing books that would take a regular person multiple days in only a few hours. These are well known about Spencer, but, his third talent is something only you’ve experienced. He has the ability to read your emotions perfectly.

If he hadn’t already explained that the ability to be a genuine mind reader would require factors that don’t exist in our world, you would’ve been sure he was one. No matter how insignificant the feeling, Dr. Spencer Walter Reid knew you felt it. So it was no suprise when he was already at the door when you arrived home, scooping you into a hug and kissing your forehead.

Daniel said something again didn’t he? You know, even after one transphobic comment the U.S Equal Employment Opportunity Commission says that he can be fired. I’m sorry he does this Y/N, you deserve better. You let out a small chuckle as he continues to ramble about different papers and documents he’s read that could help. Just knowing how much Spencer wants to help makes the hurt you feel evaporate away for a bit.

I’m gonna be ok Spence, it just hurts to hear those things. Especially because he was a work friend before he found out I’m trans. You broke away from the hug to shrug the burgundy coat off your body, placing it on the coat rack before grabbing Spencer’s hand & walking towards your shared bedroom. I know Y/N, but you’re just too great of a guy to have to put up with hateful speech. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better? I just want to lay down and watch a show, is Star Trek alright? He smiles, matching the small one on your face as he nods.

Sounds perfect! Did you know that Star Trek actually has very little physics mistakes? Considering the time it was- Spencer’s phone rings, cutting off a rant you were honestly interested in hearing. He answers, the corners of his mouth dropping back down as he exhales. He nods his head a few times before excusing himself to the person on the other end of the phone. Sorry Hotch, just a moment. You’re now back to feeling the same disappointment you had earlier, Aaron only calls after 6:00pm when there’s a case.

Y/N, im so sorry, Reid cups your face with his left hand. There’s a briefing for a case, we leave early tomorrow. Please stay. You lean your face into his hand even more. I know it’s selfish, but I just don’t want to be alone…. Its not selfish. A quiet silence fills the moment. Spencer examines you for a second before placing a gentle kiss on your lips. He guides you onto the bed, pulling off your shoes and turning on Star Trek. He exits the room and moves the phone back to his ear. You sigh, knowing that the case is important or he would’ve stayed.

Surprisingly, Spence re enters about 10 minutes later, with waters and your favorite snack. I thought- I can read the case files on the flight tomorrow. There’s more than enough time and Hotch said he’d fill me in on any other information needed. You hug his side as he sits down, pulling yourself close enough to rest your head on his shoulder as you watch the show. Thank you Spence. It’s better when you’re here, the house is so cold when I’m alone. He turns your head to face his, you come first Y/N, always.

Both leaning in for a slightly intense kiss, time passes and you realize 1 and 1/2 episodes have played in the background. You two had got so caught up in eachother that the tv noise had been completely forgotten. Spencer shares one more peck, before turning back to the screen. I thought you just wanted to lay down and watch a show? We haven’t done very much of that have we? A snicker escapes you as your eyes roll playfully.

Alright, I know. You’ve seen this show a hundred times- 68 and 3/5ths. Reid beams at you as you raise an eyebrow. Ok, you’ve seen this show 68 & 3/5ths times, what’s happened so far in this episode?

He begins to tell you all the needed context for the episode, and then some extra. You lean back against his shoulder and you two hold the hands closest to eachother, the horrible day of work completely forgotten.

Spencer tended to do that. He made all your bad days turn into good ones. You knew no matter how many people tried to hurt you, to tear away your happiness, that people like Spencer Reid existed. People who spend everyday trying to fix this broken world. You knew that meeting Spencer and falling in love with him was the luckiest thing a guy like you could do.

#glb fan fiction #criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds spencer reid #cm spencer reid #spencer reid cm #spencer reid x male reader #spencer reid x trans reader #spencer reid x reader #cm reid #reid cm #male reader #criminal minds fan fiction #spencer reid request #trans reader #ftm reader #glb requests #🦭 anon

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coffeewithcocoa · 10 months ago

Text

Periods.

Alastor x TransMale Reader

Sum: Reader gets there monthly thing but this time it causes more pain than you thought.

Alastor knew what the term ‘trans’ meant. He may not know it that well but he’s learning about it everyday because you, his lover, is a Transgender Male. He found out what it meant when you joined the hotel.

He didn’t have much interest in what it was but when he started talking to you and getting to know you he tried his best to understand what went on in your head. He soon got enlightened about what the term non-binary, trans female and trans male.

A funny story was he came down the stairs and went to the bar, asking Husker for a drink. You were sitting in the couch reading a book. Angel was there because he had to be when Alastor got an idea for a question. Husk gave him his drink, taking a sip of it as soon as he received it.

“Angel?” He asked as he placed his glass down on the counter. “Tell me, are you..transgender female?” His gaze turning to Angel. Husk quickly spat his drink out and turned around quickly. You dropped your book on the floor and stood up. Vaggie was halfway down the stairs and just started dying in laughter.

“What..?” Angels eyes widened as he blinked at Alastor a few times. “I was just asking if-.” Alastor started before looking around the hotel lobby. “What?” He stated, obviously confused in what he did wrong. “First of all no..second of all, why?” Angels face turned to a weird one but then smirked when wondering why he asked that.

“Well, I was wondering why because you wear such feminine clothes and act so..” He waved his hand around trying to think of a word. “Never mind that, I’m just curious!” He smiled brightly, grabbing the drink again taking another sip from it.

That day Angel told him some pretty traumatizing stuff but he told the truth about what it meant. Giving Alastor a lecture on what to ask and what not to ask if someone is, in fact, trans. He was still confused but felt more confident about the answers he had gotten.

When you guys started dating though he would ask left and right about stuff, which you were happy to ask. Telling him things like how the body you were in was not correct, how it didn’t feel right.

It came time for your period..which oh my Lucifer you hate more than anything. You would rather rip out your organs than having to deal with this pain. Waking up from the middle of the night, tired, or course and heading over to the bathroom was not in your to-do list.

Alastor stirred awake because he isn’t a light sleeper, sitting up and waiting for your return. When you came back you looked sad and anxious. Crawling back into bed, trying to go to sleep. “Is everything alright Cher?” He calmly asked. His radio voice soothing you. “Yeah..just tired.” You tried sounding tired and happy. He hummed and kissed your forehead, lying down and turning the opposite way from you.

It became morning sooner than you thought. ‘Damn I feel like shit..’ you thought as you stared at the ceiling. “Good morning dear!” You heard Alastor say as he walked into your guys shared room. “Morning.” You gave him the best smile you could do.

He could obviously tell it was fake but shrugged it off. “Are you feeling alright?” His smile faltered but he still held it high. “Yeah I’m fine!” Your voice was turning a bit aggressive. You were getting quite fed up with him asking you if you were alright.

He was surprised by your sudden outburst but didn’t think much of it. You felt as he got up from your guys shared bed and went into the bathroom. You felt yourself fall asleep when you heard the room door open. You rolled your eyes and just wanted to have the feeling gone.

Alastor walked down the hallway with confidence in what his lover was feeling, though he needed help. ‘Something is clearly making them uncomfortable and upset, what is it?’ He saw Charlie near Angels door, probably asking if he was okay. “Charlie.” He popped up behind her making her jump.

“AH- HOLY SHIT!” She fell on the floor with a thud when she realized it was just Alastor. “Sorry for my sudden appearance but I have a question.” He held out for her to take. “Oh yeah sure, what is it Alastor!” She took his hand and straightened herself up.

“Well my dear. If someone certain was in pain but won’t say what kind it is and refuses to tell what it is, what do you think they’re going through?” He went on a little ramble then blinked at her when he was finished. She blinked a few times before clearing her throat.

“This is a question about [insert name], isn’t it?” She smiled at him. Alastors eyes widened and waved his hand as if it wasn’t you that was causing him to ask. “Ho ho..yes.” His eyes went half lidded as if he was annoyed. Which he was but that was just because Charlie was right.

“Alright well what’s going on with him?” She rose her brow waiting to hear what was wrong with you. “Thats exactly it Charlotte. He seems more..angry? If that’s how you’d like to put it.” Alastor looks off to the side, thinking if that was even the right way to explain it.

“Angry..” Charlie mumbled out, placing a finger in her chin to think about what could possibly make a sinner upset, angry, furious?

———————————————————————

THIS IS EXTREMELY LATE😭 I was originally going to post it A MONTH AGO but when I realized it wasn’t finished I had to finish it. Anyways I wanted to get something out it the public so why not make something that every trans male hates the most? THERES PROBABLY GOING TO BE A PART 2!

ANYWAYS LOVE YOU AND THABK YOU FOR ALL THE LIKES ON THE ANGEL POST❤️

#angel dust hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #hazbin x reader #x male reader #asexual #asexual alastor #hazbin x you

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britt-kageryuu · 7 months ago

Text

It's a fairly nice day, and the stream is going well. On a background of a blue themed bedroom, Leo's model is lounging on a rainbow beanbag dressed in blue jeans, a shirt with a turtle that says 'Turtlely Gay', blue bandana with Trans tails, and unicorn slippers, he has a rabbit plush dressed like a samurai in blue. River is sitting on the floor next to the beanbag.

"Would you believe I found out some guys we know actually got their lives together after their lives went weird a few years back. It was really weird seeing them again after not seeing them in a while. Like this guy who's a chef had some setbacks in the food industry, and now he's employed at this High Class Hotel in New York as a head chef in one of the restaurants. Yeah fancy enough to have more then one restaurant." Leo lets out a slight laugh at a memory.

"Not to forget this couple that got together after being roommates for at least 3 years. We weren't invited to the wedding, which was understandable, we weren't really friends just barely acquainted with each other. I wonder who threw the bouquet, and who caught it? Hmm... " He starts muttering while counting out something. "I might remember to ask them the next time they drop by the local Museum of Magic. Last I heard they were planning to do podcasts about Magicians through the ages, or something. Gotta do something with that journalism degree I guess."

A notification goes off, "Why do you guys say you live in New York in your lore video?" River reads off.

Leo rereads the question for a sec, "Oh, that's easy. We heard about those urban legends about mutant sewer gators, and figured it wouldn't be that much of a reach for there to be mutant turtles. The rest of the lore was because of random family fairy tales, and just the randomness of our Actor Dad getting with a Scientist who also specializes in Genetics." He pauses to think about something, "Also the villains in the Lore? Dads Ex, some relatives who were kinda crazy, and the guys I just talked about and some other dudes. Yes we know this is why we weren't invited to the wedding! I'm just glad that one Wrestler asked me to be part of his wedding party for some reason!"

"Side tangent, I swear his wife purposefully aimed right at Star Warriors head during the bouquet toss. Like threw it like a baseball right at her head!" Leo mimes the throwing for emphasis. "Red caught it before it hit, and the bride literally shouted, "Close enough. Remember to invite me to you wedding!". Such an awesome woman." He wipes an imaginary tear from is eye.

"Anywizzle, the whole villain thing was just because of some events when we met them. Many of those not being our fault. Right?" Leo looks down at River.

"Data on file is inconclusive, or biased to it not being Dad or you guys fault!" River replies, before adding, "Though I still can't find out why you guys had a hippo costume, before that one time,in the first place."

Leo gives her a slightly flat look, and just shrugs, "I don't remember. We needed it for some reason. Dee really didn't put a reason in any of their archives?"

"Nope!"

Leo is understandably confused, "Must be something they don't want us to remember, or some similar reason. Well I just lost my train of thought. What topic should we switch to? Any suggestions Balemates?" He asks the audience.

The chat spams random suggestions, and emojis. Leo makes comments on some of the suggestions with jokes, and puns. And goes on from there with random tangents, and jumping topics.

----------------------

Masterpost

#VTurtles!#vtuber au #rottmnt au #tmnt au #rottmnt leonardo #rottmnt leo #rise leonardo #rise leo #rottmnt fanfiction #tmnt fanfiction #rottmnt #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2018 #rise of the tmnt #rise tmnt #tmnt rise

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milimeters-morales · 5 months ago

Text

chapter 9 of my transfem miles fic!

Chap 1 / Chap 2 / Chap 3 / Chap 4 / Chap 5 / Chap 6 / Chap 7 / Chap 8

Wordcount: 4k+

Warnings: trans kid gets called slurs and beat up (the beating up isn't shown happening). to skip, stop reading once the whole park section ends (the linebreak), and pick it back up again at "Kenneth smiles, showing off their bloodied teeth" because I don't recc skipping the entire section tbh. but you can do that if you want, just go to the next linebreak.

“I’m just saying, I’ve been through worse--” Miles starts, shutting up at the pained look on his parents’ faces.

“No extreme Spider-Manning,” his dad tells him, crossing his arms. “And take one of my jackets. It’s getting cold out.”

It’s not, Miles thinks as he grabs his dad’s smallest coat from the rack. It was still too big, the sleeves were going past his hands, but he kind of liked that.

“And take my scarf,” his mom adds, crossing her arms too.

Dang it, they’re mirroring! Now he’s definitely not going to win any argument he makes now.

“It’s not that cold out,” he tries.

“The weather is unpredictable,” his mom replies instantly, like she had that excuse prepared.

Ughhh. You crack a few ribs, break one nose, and nearly (well, literally) pass out from exhaustion one time! Okay, maybe more than once, but that’s besides the point. He’s not made of glass-- he’s still here, isn’t he? Did he die?

No, but he probably would if he said anything other than, “Yes Mother and Father, I’ll run home as soon as the wind gets too strong for my fragile bones!”

“Fix your face,” his dad tells him as he makes his way to the door.

Miles schools his expression, not even realizing he was scowling like someone personally insulted him, and sighs.

“Don’t you sigh at us,” his mom says, “we’re just trying to make sure you’ll be alright.”

“I am, Ma. I’m just going hang with Ganke and Gwen.”

“The second, and I mean the second--“

Miles really considers interrupting her to speed this up. And that’s the difference between him and a dead Miles, because a dead Miles definitely would have already done that. Add another reason to the “Why Miles Would Have Gotten Into Visions Anyway” list, this for sure counts.

“--hurting, you come home, okay?”

“Yeah,” he nods and shrugs.

She narrows her eyes, and his dad tilts his head.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Once he’s finally out of that house, and breathing in the fresh air on the street, Miles takes off the scarf, puts it in the jacket pocket, and ties the jacket around his waist. It really isn’t that cold, his parents are just extra worried since he came home with kind of bad injuries yesterday.

When he woke up to get breakfast (after texting Ganke that yes, he was fine, and no, he wouldn’t be a “rich widow”), his mom and dad were hovering more than usual, and his dad looked anxious to even clap him on his shoulder like he usually did in the mornings.

It’s not like he’s never shown up injured before, he’s come home with worse! Sure, they don’t usually know, but it’s not like he was going to die. He was just a bit roughed up.

They must’ve seen some disturbing story on the news, or something.

_____

“How was the fudge?” Gwen asks him as he shows up to the candy store. They had all agreed to meet here, as some sort of “reward” for Miles.

“Oh, I didn’t eat it yet,” he answers, “how’s Brick? That guy you helped me with?”

Ganke snorts at the name as he grabs some sour gummies.

“Right,” Gwen nods, “he’s apparently back to normal? Spider-Doc called me in and let me see him, but he wants you to come in and double check.”

“But I didn’t see him when he was normal.”

“That’s what I said probably happened,” Gwen gestures towards him with more nodding, “but he said Brick would probably want to see a familiar Spidey anyway. So yeah, he looks normal, but he’s exhausted and not really cooperative. That bracelet can only last like, two weeks.”

Miles gums and grabs some plantain chips and a slushie cup. “Alright, why can’t we visit now? It’ll only take a few minutes, right?”

Gwen shrugs. “Wait, can we take you?” she asks Ganke, reaching up to grab a bag of chocolate pretzels for him after seeing him go to stand on his tip-toes.

“Short ass,” Miles laughs, dodging the punch to his shoulder. “But I don’t know, I’ve never seen anyone else bring civilians to what remains.”

“Oh my god, you sound so ominous when you call it that,” Ganke laughs, making his way over to the counter. “And I don’t wanna go anyway.”

Gwen reluctantly grabs her own snacks, complaining about none of them being sweet or salty enough to actually be worth it. They all pay for their candy (with Ganke’s money, he’s sure to remind Gwen and Miles) and leave, walking down the street and chowing down.

“Alright, so Margo and Doc had found the dimension Brick was from, but don't think it’s a good idea to let him go back yet because we don’t know about the other effects-- if there are any-- of the super steroid,” Gwen explains as she chews her strawberry wafers. “Not what its name by the way, don’t call it that. Doc gets annoyed and starts explaining exactly what the drug is.”

“Isn’t that a good thing to know?” Miles asks, looking down each alley they pass.

“Miles, it’s like fifteen different ingredients with names longer than the pi,” Gwen rolls her eyes, “Anyway, Doc’s waiting ‘till Brick’s coherent enough. Might take most of the day, but just wanted to let you know.”

Miles nods, eyes catching on someone. It was some kid, he thinks, just playing on a phone. Why did he focus on--

“Ohhh!” He whisper-shouts, quickly looking away and back to his friends, “that’s Kenneth!”

“Who?” Gwen and Ganke ask at the same time.

Shoot. “Nobody, just some kid I helped as the other guy,” Miles explains hurriedly. “They don’t actually know me.”

“Aw, but you two look like you’d be friends,” Ganke replies, still looking at Kenneth. “God knows you need more normal ones. No offense, Gwen.”

“I get it,” she says, also still looking at Kenneth. It’s like these two all of a sudden forgot what manners are!

“Stop staring at them! Come on,” He hisses out, feeling shame claw at his back and shoulders. He steers the two to the other side of the street, not so subtly checking if Kenneth looked up at any point.

“Jeez, that perfume lasts long,” Gwen comments, “you smell like a romance novel cover.”

“I hate that I know exactly what you mean,” he replies.

“Why are you so on edge anyway?” Ganke asks him. “Something happen? …Other than yesterday?”

“My parents… they’re just… protective,” he decides on. “C’mon, let’s just go before it gets too crowded.”

_____

Of course, because Miles can’t have anything, the cat cafe’s grand opening was too crowded and left him and Gwen overstimulated, irritated, and wanting to escape. Gwen and Ganke didn’t even get to choose ridiculous names to call the cats instead of their actual ones, which usually would’ve had Miles thanking every deity he could think of for this miracle, but it was just awful this time.

He let Gwen scurry off to Hobie’s dimension to calm down, and dropped Ganke off at home, apologizing for ruining the day. The boy told him he didn’t ruin anything, and kissed his cheek before heading inside. Miles didn’t really believe that, but it’s fine, he can act like he does.

After a few stress bites and scratches, a loose brick crumbled into dust, and some breathing exercises, Miles is ready to be Spider-Man for the rest of the day.

At some point, he ends up in the park helping a few parents set up a pretty expensive looking birthday party (which earns him a cupcake, score!) and goes to swing off again, but a little girl calling out to him seconds before zipping closer to cling to his leg stops him.

“Spidey, you smell good!” The little girl missing-- who’s missing one of her front teeth, now isn’t that cute-- smiles up at him. “You smell like my ma!”

Normally, this sentence would be extremely weird, but considering he just saved a woman wearing the strongest perfume in the world yesterday, it’s justified. It’s reached normal strength levels today, from what his parents said, so that’s a small positive.

Miles laughs, “Aw, thank you! Where is your mama?”

“Norah says she’s busy far away!”

Miles nods, “And who’s Norah? Is that your sister?”

The little girl giggles, “Nooo! That’s my other ma! She’s super tall!”

Miles nods again, “Ohhh, I see! My bad! Let’s go find her, she must be wondering where you are!” Offering his hand to the girl, whose hand is impossibly small in his own, he begins to walk where she came from.

“So what does she look like?”

“Umm,” the girl says, whipping her head around as she searches around, “she’s got red hair like Ariel. And her favorite color is green!”

Luckily, someone with red hair that vibrant is easy to spot in the park.

Norah’s eyes widen as she turns from the man she’s talking to on a bench and sees her daughter being guided to her by Spider-Man. “Hi honey, are you okay? Why are you with Spider-Man?”

“I’m fine, he smells like Ma! Smell him!” the little girl excitedly informs her mom, running and hugging her legs.

“Oh, no thank you, I believe you,” Norah laughs, brushing her hair out of her face.

And man, that kid wasn’t lying at all. The woman is tall, so tall that Miles has to actually move his head a considerable amount when he looks up at her.

“Go back to playing with Micah and his friends, honey,” Norah runs a hand through the girl’s short hair before she takes off to a sandbox, “and don’t wander off this time!”

“She probably means the perfume you’re wearing. It smells a lot like what my ex used to wear,” Norah gives him a warm smile after sighing. “I didn’t even know they still sold that scent! She always got it from like, a reseller.”

Miles smiles and shrugs, “I don’t know if they do, but a woman I saved was wearing it. Guess it’s still that strong, huh?”

“Ahh, that makes more sense,” Norah says, the man behind her humming and nodding.

…Why did that make him feel kind of weird? Put on the spot, almost?

“We won’t keep you,” Norah says, going back to sit on the bench.

“Alright! Have a nice day!”

Miles swings off, feeling strange.

Sure, he hasn’t met any guys that wear perfume, but it’s the same thing as cologne. Something to make you smell good! He knows it’s not that common, but women wear cologne all the time. Right? So, a man wearing perfume wouldn’t be that weird.

“God, why are you so defensive…” he mutters to himself.

____

Later that night, when he’s expertly convinced his parents he won’t get into any fights (but come on, be serious), he’s trying to calm down after being held at gunpoint by a would-be mugger that looked way too young to fully understand what they were doing.

It turned out fine, but still. Gunpoint. You’d think after nearly 2 years, he could take it like it was nothing.

Anyway, he’s swinging off the stress, when he hears it-- the telltale sounds of a fight.

He rockets down to a nearby rooftop and peeks over the edge, eyes widening when he sees Kenneth-- again! The kid was cornered by four much larger people. At least one of them must’ve been an adult or something! Kenneth was sneering-- that’s blood, that’s blood-- at the group, fists balled at their sides and shaking.

Darting down, Miles lands between Kenneth and the four others, spreading his arms out. “What, you got a problem?” he asks them loudly, stepping forward. Two flinch back at his sudden appearance, the other two looking surprised but not moving. “You deaf or something?” He narrows his lenses in the way he knows people don’t like and revels in those resulting furrowed brows.

“You defending him?” one of the men asks, sounding genuinely surprised. Is this man serious?

“Them,” Kenneth spits out from behind Miles.

“You beating on a kid? You ain’t got anything better to do with your lives?” Miles can feel the adrenaline pumping in his veins, teeth grinding and chest getting tight. He takes another step forward, sending one of them running off with mutters about “not getting tased”.

“Pussy!” Kenneth shouts after the runner, and Miles doesn’t feel the need to say anything about that. His focus is on the three excuses of--

Calm down. Kenneth’s safety is more important than his anger.

“Spidey, you know that’s a man, right?” the second man asks him.

“A tranny,” the third man spits out.

The word hits his ears like a pot of boiling water spills onto his feet, like he’s being hit with that truck all over again. There’s mini explosions in his chest, and it feels like his head literally empties, leaving only… scribbles. Incoherent, angry, scared scribbles.

Miles lets the electricity in his veins glow bright enough to cast shadows against the walls. “You’re being assholes. Get lost!”

The third man leaves, grumbling, and dragging the second with him despite the difficulty since the second just assumed they could all win the fight against Miles if they stuck together.

“Oh, not only are you assholes, you’re stupid too? Pick a struggle!” Miles rolls his eyes at the two retreaters. “What, you really wanna try it? You?” He looks the final man still standing in front of him up and down and tries to put as much disdain, disbelief, and annoyance in his voice until it practically drips with all three. He scoffs to make it hurt a little, in the way everyone else at school does when someone asks for a girl’s number, “Yeah, right.”

The man sneers and quickly stomps out of the alley after the others. “...kind of man wears perfume, prolly one of ‘em…” he mutters as he leaves.

A few moments pass, and once Kenneth breathes out a heavy sigh of relief, Miles finally relaxes, breathing out a sigh of his own.

“I am so sorry about that,” he apologizes, letting the electricity die down and turning to face Kenneth. Now that he’s close up, he can see blood dripping down from their nose and a bruise on their cheek. “Look, I’ll walk you home.”

“Thanks,” Kenneth smiles, showing off their bloodied teeth. Yeesh. “I don’t actually think I could’ve won that one.”

As they’re walking down the street, Miles keeps a hand on Kenneth’s shoulder, wondering if he should take them to urgent care just in case.

“I’m still real sorry you had to hear that,” he tells them, “those jerks don’t know a thing. Grown ass men… how old are you?”

“I’m fourteen! My birthday was last month,” Kenneth happily informs him. The baby fat on their cheeks makes Miles’s heart ache, and he struggles to smile. Did he used to look like that? Only fourteen, and having to deal with adults hating them to the point of beating them up for the way they dress and identify. Jesus. Maybe they’re more alike than he thought.

“I just turned sixteen,” Miles admits.

“Really? Is that why you do that deep voice thing?”

Embarrassment makes him falter in step, nearly face planting on the ground. “Uh, no, I…”

Every possible answer he could give is embarrassing! Why did he even bring up age in the first place?!

Kenneth smiles and seems to consider him. “Y’know… if… I totally get it, if you do the voice for… other reasons. I mean, I know some guys who do that, but you already sound fine.”

“Thank you,” Miles takes the compliment with only the tiniest bit of confusion. Kenneth thought… ohhhh. Ohhhh.

Should he correct them?

Yes, duh.

…

But he doesn’t really want to. Kenneth isn’t entirely sure that he’s transgender, just guessing, right? Is this bad? Is he doing something wrong right now not clearing this up?

He feels like he was just put on the spot in the middle of class or something. He shouldn’t be so anxious, this is ridiculous-- Kenneth’s the one that just got attacked!

But this is obviously also bad... but he's just so hesitant, for some reason.

“I won’t tell anybody, if you are like me,” Kenneth says softly, blood dried on their face but a sparkle in their eye, “don’t worry.”

____

Miles unlocks the door to his family’s apartment, still talking with Gwen.

“--can’t believe it’s still on me either! Anyway, how about next weekend? The cafe probably won’t calm down for a week, and there’s a new garden here, the kind that offers tours and stuff. I saw some pictures online-- Hi Dad,” Miles says, nodding to his dad as he makes his way to his room.

“Miles? What’s that smell?” his dad asks him from his spot on the couch. He swings an arm over the back of it and fixes Miles with a quizzical look. Without his glasses on, his squinting looks even more suspicious.

“Uh, still that perfume,” Miles answers, wishing he got the power of teleportation instead of his super-anxiety. “I gotta go, let me know what you think,” he rushes out into the watch, quickly taking it off and shoving it into his jacket pocket.

His dad gets up and walks over, sniffing the air. “Oh, you… found another bottle?” he asks hesitantly, crossing his arms and tilting his head, “Jesus, that is strong.”

“Everyone else says it’s not,” Miles reassures him, “apparently they don’t even make this anymore?”

“I see why,” his dad mumbles, “so how… how was it?”

“How was what?”

“Going around, smelling like perfume all day. Nobody gave you any trouble?”

Miles hears that protectiveness in his dad’s question, and thinks about Norah and that man she was talking to, the men that attacked Kenneth, and his mom saying how she could say she was the reason for it yesterday. It all made him feel weird, like he was expecting something that he wasn’t even sure of.

“Nah. I mean, some people didn’t expect it, but nothing mean.”

“Okay, that’s good,” his dad nods, “want some spaghetti? Your mom’ll be home in a few minutes, come help set everything out.”

After dinner, which was only partially ruined for him and his dad because of his mom’s ER horror stories that she’s brought home today, Miles gets ready for bed. Well, a few hours of relaxing and maybe another patrol then actual bed.

As he’s walking back to his room after his shower, legs freshly shaved and piercings cleaned, his dad stops him to ask him something, but stops mid-question with wide eyes. Miles smiles, unsure of what’s wrong, and tilts his head. Stuff about hair and a mustache are all he can make out of his dad’s incomprehensible (excited?) sputtering.

“How didn’t I see this earlier! I was right across from you!” His dad’s loud and all up in his face as he turns it every which way in search of more hairs.

“Maybe you just need new glasses,” Miles shrugs, trying to pull his face free as gently as possible.

“Rio! Get in here!”

Miles resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“What? What, is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong--”

“Miles is growing a beard!”

“Whaaat?” His mom’s sleepy eyes widen, a tired but proud smile growing on her face as she lightly slaps his dad’s hands away to replace them with her own. “Ahh, I see them! You’re growing up too fast!” She playfully slaps at his arm, “Stop it.”

“I’ll slow down,” Miles sighs exaggeratedly, head hanging like he’s just so inconvenienced.

“How didn’t I notice this? Can’t believe you’re growing into a man,” his dad places the heels of his palms on his forehead, eyes wide. “Next thing I know he’s off to college, getting married--” he starts rambling as he paces in the living area.

“Dad, really?” Miles puts his hands on his hips. “It’s just a little hair. It’s not even on my chin.”

“--us in a nursing home-- Just a little hair?! This is--”

“You’re really calm,” his mom whispers to him as they watch his dad continue to gesture wildly and wear down the floorboards. “You’re not even a little excited?”

“I freaked out about it earlier,” he whispers back with a small smile.

“You and your father, I swear,” she huffs with a shake of her head.

____

As he’s suiting up again after he’s sure his parents are asleep, his watch buzzes. Putting his glove in his mouth to free both hands, he grabs it to see a message from Margo.

|Margo Kess 22191-B: hey Gwen invited me to your garden thing next weekend but said she forgot to check with you 2 see if it was okay?

|Miles Morales 1610-B: It’s fine! We’ll have to get there pretty early like 9am maybe

|Miles Morales 1610-B: what time would that be for you

|Margo Kess 22191-B: uhh let me check

|Margo Kess 22191-B: that’s like 1pm for me :v dw

|Miles Morales 1610-B: alright that’s good!

|Margo Kess 22191-B: : thanks! Gwen would have told you herself but she broke her phone

|Miles Morales 1610-B: fight gone wrong?

|Margo Kess 22191-B: she said everything was 2 loud and fast so she just crushed it in her hands this morning :/

|Miles Morales 1610-B: Oh it must’ve been from our trip to this cat cafe

|Miles Morales 1610-B: turned out to be a bad idea for us!

|Margo Kess 22191-B: i hope the garden doesn’t turn out 2 be like that </3

|Miles Morales 1610-B: sameee

Once he’s fully dressed, he grabs a random jacket. It was a little too big, must’ve been one of the newer ones his mom bought him after his growth spurt.

It’s a nice night , he thinks as he perches on the roof of a library.

A cloudless starry sky, a nice breeze, and-- hold on, is that his physics teacher?

Mrs. Chesterfield and some man are walking together out of the J-Mart across the road. Oh man, should he say hi? No, right? No. That would be kind of weird, and she’s been a little annoying lately anyway. He doesn’t actually have anything to say to her anyway that wouldn’t expose who he is.

The man she’s walking with spots him and gives a small wave. Mrs. Chesterfield notices and gives a small wave as well, but with a pleasant smile.

Miles waves back, watching as they leave in their car.

So weird. He knows, realistically, his teachers have lives outside of school, but to see them with other people, and doing what, going on a snack run? To see them do something so normal is just plain strange. He wonders how they clean their houses…

A quiet sound of paper ripping pulls him out of thoughts, and a faint whisper makes him look behind him. Hobie’s in the courtyard below, swiftly closing the portal behind him and jumping up to the roof to sit next to Miles.

“Relax,” Hobie tells him, “just checking on you.”

“Why?” Miles scoots over to put some comfortable space between them, “Did something happen?”

Hobie is quiet for a moment, mismatched eyes boring into Miles’s own and making him look to the side, before turning and facing ahead.

Alright, so he’s not going to get an answer?

“You can tell me, it’s fine,” he insists, but when Hobie doesn’t want to do something, he just won’t. Miles learned that the sorta-hard way when he kept expecting Hobie to continue conversations instead of letting an awkward silence take over. At first, it seemed like Hobie was just toying with him, but Gwen explained that Hobie was “just like that.”

The two sit in silence, Miles looking for a conversation starter. Something (most likely) happened, and things tend to be… pretty bad in Hobie’s dimension.

As his eyes flit about, they land on the skirt Hobie’s wearing. It’s one of the old lady skirts Miles bought for him, but it’s been torn haphazardly at the end and stained with something, probably bleach?

“I like what you did with the skirt,” he says, smiling. “Did you do the same with the other ones?”

Hobie shakes his head. “Gave ‘em away.”

“Oh, that’s nice! I was actually at a shelter a few days ago, I think I’m gonna go again to give some people my old clothes,” Miles says. Okay, so he wasn’t thinking that until now, but it still sounds like a good idea. Maybe he’ll see that manager lady again.

His mind drifts to the old man that kept arguing. Ugh.

“S’good,” Hobie mumbles. “You and the others, you know you can come to me, yeah?”

Shit, was he not visiting Hobie’s dimension enough? Yeah, he doesn’t visit that much, but he thought Hobie preferred it that way!

“Yeah, of course! I’m sure the others know that too,” he nods, “well, you might have to remind Margo. She’s never even visited me before, and she’s only coming next weekend because Gwen asked her to.”

Hobie taps on the roof, “I meant, if your parents start that bullshit. But that too, that too.”

Miles’s anxiety turns to confusion. “Why would my parents get that mad? I mean, Spider-Man was an unpleasant surprise, sure, but--”

Hobie gives him a sad(?) look, which makes him stop and think. Does he do anything that--

Oh, DUH!

“I mean, I don’t think Mom and Dad would get mad at me dating Ganke, of all things to get mad at me about,” Miles rushes out, playing with the sleeves of his jacket. The anxiety comes back, settling in his legs and shoulders.

“I don’t wanna say don’t trust them,” Hobie says slowly, as if explaining bad news to a toddler, “but I want you to have a backup. Just in case.”

“Just in case,” Miles repeats, considering the possibility. “I just… I mean, I don’t think they’re like that. They’ve never said anything about… hating gay people or anything…” But what if…

“I don’t want you to freak out,” Hobie tells him quickly, squinting. “It’s just always a possibility, and I don’t want you to be lost if worse comes to worst. It’s smart.”

Miles brings his knees to his chin. His parents are good people, they wouldn’t hate him for something like this. They love him! But… he knows a lot of people say that, and don’t know for sure, and get a nasty surprise. He’s heard stories online and on the news that turn out even worse.

“I’m not freaking out,” he says aloud, more for himself than Hobie. “I just never considered it before, y’know?”

“Yeah. I know,” Hobie sighs. “I know.”

“Shit, man…” Miles says after a few moments of silence. “So… what should I do? I can’t just run away from here and leave my dimension without a Spider-Man.”

Hobie taps again. “That’s what you have us for.”

He briefly meets Miles’s eyes, and though he doesn’t smile, the warmth is there. It’s almost too much, but thankfully Hobie looks away first. “Just wanted to make sure you knew.”

“...Thanks,” Miles smiles. “Do you want to join me tonight? Or do you wanna go give the others the same talk?”

Hobie stands up, stretching his arms high above him. “I can tell ‘em after. Lemme get changed.”

Score!

A/N: past me was again not pleased with this chapter but it literally looks fine? it's short and sweet! well not sweet 100% but i feel like it's nicely packaged with a simple bow. kenneth nation sorry for hurting our cousin

#miles morales #transfem miles #spiderman #trans miles morales #atsv fanfiction #fanfic #atsv #spiderverse #spider man #m&m posts #hobie brown #gwen stacy #jefferson morales #rio morales #kenneth kingston #my writing

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