#implied ftm cross

[saints-helen]

Hehe, first suggestive piece >:333

Basically, crepic foreplay with some sad bits, I'm excited to post this!~

(if anyone thinks cross could dominate you are WRONG. he is a princess in bed and should be treated as such 😌)

cross's breaths were soft, warm, where they fanned against the side of epic's head, his fingertips trailing across his lover's ecto as he laid back in bed, all comfortable and presumably very, Very warm.

he pressed soft kisses against his neck, not biting, not yet, just pressing against the skin, breathing him in, and delighting when cross turned his head to the side, still panting, to give him better access.

"e-epic" he breathed out, and he couldn't help the soft chuckle that escaped him, grinning, as he lifted his head to look at cross, both of their bodies sweaty with all the heat in the room.

and oh.. what a sight he was.

flushed, barely trembling, his eyes lidded and desperate, mouth slightly open so Invitingly that epic Had to force his eyes away, lest he lose himself in the sight.

"yeah?" he answered, and cross took a deep shaky breath, almost whining as he threw his arm over his eyes to hide his face, head turned away from epic.

"don't- look at me like that" he prefaced, then, peeking out, he said "don't tease"

he hummed, "but i like teasing", tugging away cross's arm away from his face resulted in such a pretty little whine escaping him, his brow bones knitting in a near Pout as he tried to glare at him.

"don't Tease" he said again, and epic nuzzled his nose against his cheek, intertwining their fingers together as he kissed the bone beneath his mouth, enjoying the way he felt cross's pulse quicken at the gesture.

"not teasing, then" he replied, his smile ever present; he couldn't help it, not really, not when cross looked This pretty and tempting.

"buttering you up," he said "getting you ready"

"don't wanna" cross huffed out.

"ya gotta" he teased back, earning him yet another whine.

he'd come to find this evening that cross was a very, Very whiney person, and he'd never been as delighted at a discovery like this since he learned how Easy it was to make the man blush.

"stoopppp" he whined, turning his head from side to side in disapproval, panting with eyes squeezed shut.

"i hate you"

"you wouldn't be letting me do this if ya did~" he teases back, only to be met with silence.

ah, right, a bit too soon then, his bad for forgetting.

before it can spiral into anything more, he soothes it away with another purr, nuzzling his nose against his lover's jaw and counting it as a win when he huffs in annoyance.

"bothersome.." he mutters, and epic simply responds "i love you too~"

he's never been one not to listen, however, so he actually begins getting him ready, then.

his fingers gliding down cross's chest to his stomach, enjoying the way his breath Sputters at the sudden change in pace.

he won't go too quickly though, oh no, he's going to savour every single Second of this, commit it to memory, commit Him to memory too, as his hands smooth over the quivering 'skin".

"epic.." he pants out again, more desperation than complaint this time, a soft "a- hah!" escaping him when epic nips at the soft flesh of his neck, quickly pressing a soft kiss against it before moving a bit and doing it again.

he's always gentle with cross, would be even if cross didn't ask him a million times beforehand to be. he'd never been the rough sort of lover, and he knew it was a good thing, as he didn't think cross could handle anything But soft, at least not yet.

he knew the man's life had not been gentle, knew praise was never offered when it should've and that, when someone gripped him, it was never really just to Feel him, never for the sake of it, always was for something else.

he intended to be the exact opposite, refusing to be added to the list of shitty ex lovers who'd never treated him like he'd deserved, who'd taken advantage of his desperate need to please to get what they wanted.

oh.. no, epic would Never be like that, not with a gun pressed to his head.

he'd make sure cross was well taken care of, he'd praise him all throughout , and he knew what cross's inevitable answer would be,

"i didn't even do anything"

it seemed to be his catchphrase, almost, the thing he always said as he blushed, looking off side to side in confusion when epic would randomly tell him how pretty he was, how he loved him,

"but i didn't even do anything"

a denial, almost, a reminder, a plea that he did Not deserve this, even when epic consistently insisted that he did.

always downplaying the work he did around here, how he looked, how lovely he spoke and how funny he joked. it seemed to epic his lover wore the exact Opposite of rose tinted glasses, seeming to see himself as the devil incarnate if he didn't earn Every Little Thing.

he knew cross would feel guilty after this, he knew because he knew him, knew he hated to take an inch without giving a Mile in return, and still feeling like it wasn't enough.

how much effort did this take, then? how much work and careful wording "I enjoy this, I like spoiling my partners" the amount of wordplay needed, convincing, for cross to let him lay him back in bed, looking all pretty, and let epic do all the work?

it Was true, however, he Did like spoiling his partners, even more so if they didn't think they deserved it,

even more so if they've never experienced it before.

epic didn't Like cross's previous partners, didn't like the mark they'd left on his sweet, hilarious, kind lover.

didn't like the way they made every insecurity the man already had ten times worse, so much so that, even now, his claws digging into epic's back, finally unclenching from their place in the bed, hesitant, (and oh how he'd Beg the stars that cross left his mark there), fingers flexing and curling, he still had his clothing on, refusing, even in these most intimite moments, epic the right to look at all of him.

it took long just to get him to unbutton his Shirt all the way, and epic wasn't willing to push anymore than that lest the sweet man get nervous, so he currently admired what of him he Could see, eyes drinking it up with Hunger he'd never dare to hide.

he wantsd cross to know Exactly what he thought of him.

another thing he rememberered, then, when the hand not at his back flew to cross's mouth, eyes squeezed shut at a particularly teasing bite in a place he knew was sensitive, he saw his tempting, far too tempting sharp fangs dig into his palm hard enough to Bleed.

epic, always attentive no matter how hazy his eyes got with lust, put a stop to that quickly, tugging the hand away by the wrist and, using a kiss to the wrist to sneak a look at the wound, assessed the damage.

not too bad, thankfully, just barely broke 'skin', and his eyes were eventually drawn back to his lover as he tried to yank his hand away, eyes dazed as the tried to focus on him, the newest victim to those teeth the lip caught between them

"please..." he half whined weakly, and epic met his eyes for a moment before pressing the nicked palm to his cheek, then kissing the cut.

"you're pretty when you beg," he murmured, "but i don't like to see you bleeding. don't do this, please" he says, the last word added to make absolutely sure that what he said did Not sound like an order.

it scared him, he'd admit, when cross looked at him like what he'd said was an order.

he hated it with a passion.

"sorry..." he mutters, face turned to the side, and epic will take it,

at least he didn't add "sir" to the end of it this time, by reflex. it never failed to make him nauseous whenever he did.

right, so where was he? ah, yes, he was trailing circles with his thumb against the dip in his hip, a spot he found he Especially liked to tease.

it was very pretty. cross was very pretty. he never understood how anyone couldn't see that, because even if he found himself with his eyes closed, his hands would still shake as he imagined the curves of that body as he smoothed them over it.

cross never liked being too loud, and epic knew it would translate to this, too, because whenever his voice got a pitch higher than he wanted his mouth would always clamp shut.

it wasn't difficult to figure out what cross needed, what he wanted, not at all, and he wasn't quite sure what all the Fuss was about.

cross had told him, hours before they began this because yes, it took him hours to soothe the anxiety enough for them to start, that sex had never really been all that.. tempting, for him before. (understandable, considering his orientation.) that he'd never craved it with anyone as much as he did so with epic.

(and oh.. how Delightful that was to hear, his soul soaring as he grinned.. but before he could inevitably tease him about it cross had thrown a pillow in his face, so he figured he'd keep his mouth shut for now)

that, with those he'd been with before, it always seemed like a dreadful ticking time clock of patience that would eventually run out, when the "I'm not ready yet" would start to be met with frustration instead of care, when the "I'm sorry. are you mad at me?" would stop being met with a response altogether.

again, he didn't know what all the Fuss was about, so what if cross wasn't willing to have sex on the first date? or second? or the thirtieth?

so what if he needed some extra time to feel up to it? to feel comfortable enough being in such an incredibly vulnerable position that required an amount of trust from the man that, frankly, most people took for granted?

epic was happy to have cross in any way cross let him, whether it be his friend, his lover, his queer platonic partner, you name it. as long as he got to stay at his side, making him happy, he was content.

he didn't Need the sex, he'd enjoy it sure, but it was far from a deal-breaker for him, he'd wait for as long as cross needed him to, hell, he'd wait Forever if that's what cross needed him to do.

because he deserved it, he absolutely Deserved it, and he'd said so, too, only for cross to deny him his conviction under the argument that "some people Do need it, epic."

it was absolute bull, the rushing the man was always subject to, but he was too busy listening to cross tell him about always eventually Caving, initiating the act under the guilt of "depriving them" just so they'd smile at him again, stop looking at him with a look that screamed "When?", the lingering looks shot to him, when they thought he couldn't see, when they both were watching a movie that happened to have an intimate scene, where cross, ever so perceptive, fascinating cross, Knew Exactly ehat they were thinking. He was too busy - he was never the sort to get so angry - controlling his breathing to argue his point.

"pretty thing.." he purred, cross's breath hitching as he bit him again, a calculated move, as he knew cross was about to deny it again.

"doing so good for me.. singing so sweetly.. " a whine "pretty bird~"

he extended his claws, dragging them across cross's abdomen and down his pants, feeling him squirm and writhe beneath him, and stars, he'd never been more turned on in his Life.

cross's arms both wrapped around his neck, holding on tightly as he buried his face in his shoulder, and epic could feel the tenseness in his legs as he tried not to kick them, toes curling.

he didn't enter him, yet, didn't even tease it, still trailing slow sensual circles into his inner thighs, getting a soft moan as a reward for his efforts.

he wanted cross to enjoy this, he wanted him to enjoy it as much as he possibly could, and despite his earlier protests at epic teasing him, he figured cross wouldn't want to go too fast either.

he didn't want to make him feel used, god forbid let him think epic was getting Impatient with him, so for now, and for a while yet, he'll continue to get him wet without actually doing much of anything.

he liked it better that way, anyway.

[readngandweepng]

quick nsfw thoughts about bottom rdr2 boys ft. arthur kieran and charles

contains amab sub top reader. ftm rdr2 men. no pronouns for reader but male implied. first time writing for these boys but hopefully not the last.

imagine arthur tying your hands together with his lasso and having his way with you; bouncing on your lap in a steady rhythm, one hand on your stomach while the other rests at his side. he looks like a true cowboy, his head tilted back as he takes you to the hilt, groaning and muttering beneath his breath. as he gets nearer, his free hand goes up to his hat, keeping it steady on his head as he rolls his hips into yours. when you both cum he gives you a half-lidded smile and takes his hat, placing it on your head alongside a charming kiss on your lips to top it off.

your slow pace is torture for kieran. he’s on his stomach, your chest pressed against his back as half your cock slides in and out of him. you both know if you go too fast and too deep he won’t be able to keep quiet, but he can’t help himself to move back into you as best as he can, his teeth sinking into his coat sleeve to stop his moans from tumbling out of him. eventually you tire of having to hold back and give kieran the entirety of your cock, not even slowing down to let him catch his breath. 

charles asks you to go hunting with him one day. confused, you find yourself in an empty forest with what seems like no animals at all. when you look over at him you see his face is dark and he bears a familiar glint in his eyes. you’re not surprised when he pushes you against the nearest tree, tilting his head to kiss you. its gentle, yet deep. you can’t find it within yourself to tease him when his hand slips past your belt. a thought crosses your mind about what you’ll tell the others back at camp when they ask why you’ve returned empty-handed, but a kiss to your neck and a grip on your cock has your mind suddenly blank knowing you won’t be thinking about anything else but charles for the next couple of hours. 

you and ftm!arthur hitch your horses for the night, throwing down some bedrolls and deciding to lay low. you roll out one and then the other, feeling an arm slink around your waist. arthur kisses your neck, the ticklish feeling making you softly push him away. he pulls you down with him onto one of the bed rolls by your belt loops, locking you in place between his legs and already he begins to press up against you, using the friction of your clothes to his advantage. you don’t argue, angling your hips to make sure your clothed dick connects perfectly with his pussy, his low groaning telling you all you need to know about how well you’ll sleep tonight.

making your shy, flustered ftm!kieran ride you, letting him go at his own pace. he’s hesitant with every move, not quite sure if what he’s doing is right. his inexperience is proven enough just by how tight he is but he’s uncoordinated, messy with every experimental bounce and sloppy with his hips. he whispers for your assistance, desperation clear in his voice. you place your hands on his waist, guiding his movements just enough for him to learn on his own. ever so slowly he figures it out and soon his clumsy humping turns into a somewhat consistent bouncing. you're so proud of him, drawing circles on his clit with your thumb and rewarding him with an earth-shaking orgasm that keeps him bed-ridden a little too long for dutch’s liking.

ftm!charles is more confident than you expected him to be. you’re closed off in your tent, on top of charles who’s on top of your now untidy bedroll. his legs are wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him so tightly there’s no chance you’ll slip out even with how wet he is. he’s never been loud, whether by choice or by instinct you’re not quite sure, so the only concern you’re ever left with is if the others can hear the sound of your balls slapping against his skin. he always takes you so well, always leaving you to be the one completely breathless afterwards. his pussy always grips your cock with such vigor and robustness, you wonder if he does it on purpose just to see you fall apart.

side note. i can only imagine how many men in this game would use the “is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” joke. also man i'm not even into bondage but i want arthur morgan to tie me to a tree so bad

[biting-miguel-ohara]

Alpha - Logan Howlett x ftm!reader

A/N: Hi! Um, this is my first work within the fandom! This was written with X-Men Logan in mind. Fic is unedited with no use of Y/N. This is so self-indulgent, so please be nice

Please make sure to read the tags carefully! They’re there for a reason

CW: Reader is a wolf mutant; Logan and Reader get off to a tense start; Reader is implied to be pre-op ftm, via the use of sports bras; implied wet dreams; use of the words slick and wet to describe Reader’s arousal; a/b/o dynamics? maybe?; misunderstandings; rough sex; pet play? (Reader is called pup); Reader is referred to as handsome; grinding; fingering; use of the word dick to describe Reader’s parts; overstimulation; no use of safe word; unprotected piv; multiple orgasms; implied aftercare

2493 words

The first thing you notice about Logan is his scent.

Not that you know it belongs to him. But it’s all you can smell as you talk to Jean. Thick and heady and strong. Musky like an animal and cloying like smoke.

Jean, of course, can tell you’re distracted. Instead of calling you out on it, she simply calls him in. Him and Scott enter at the same time, with an air of tension between them. Not that you care for long.

You’re too busy ogling the man in front of you. Rugged and handsome, more like a mountain man than a teacher.

Yet, that’s how Jean introduces him. Logan Howlett. History teacher.

You smile politely. You hold out your hand and try to not get too offended when he doesn’t shake it. You can tell he’s wary of you. Not that you could blame him.

You must be giving off a scent of your own, though you can’t smell it. But you can hear his inhale, feel the way his eyes watch you. You know he knows.

Especially when he straightens up. Lifting his chin and widening his stance. Establishing his dominance in a more subtle way than most other males. Perhaps he’s just that assured in his position.

Either way, you can feel your instincts itching at the back of your mind. The desire to submit. To recognize his authority. It pricks at you like a needle, but you brush it away. You’ve had enough of submitting to men like him. If he wants it, he’ll have to earn it.

Jean rests a hand on Logan’s arm, softly scolding him, probably for what he’s thinking. “Hey, be nice. They’re a wolf mutant.”

“A wolf mutant?” He looks unimpressed.

You stand your ground. Your nerves are starting to buzz from the force of his gaze. You hate stare downs, but you can’t lose this one.

“Yeah.” You answer him yourself. “That’s me.”

He scoffs and looks you up and down. “Yeah, whatever, bub. You ever even see a real wolf?”

You know what he’s doing and you hate it. But at least he’s not mistaking you for a girl and being all overly nice. You’d rather get his blunt side than his fake side.

“No. I’m a wolf mutant, not a real wolf.” You at least try to keep some of the sarcasm from your voice. Trying’s worth something, right?

Logan doesn’t look impressed. He crosses his arms, which prompts Scott to finally step in. “Welcome to Xavier’s Home for—“

“Thanks.” You interrupt him with a smile, but your gaze never leaves Logan’s.

Scott seems caught off guard. “Why… don’t I show you around…?”

Something in you relaxes at the thought of being away from such an intimidating man like Logan. You nod and accept his offer.

On your tour, your thoughts keep drifting back to Logan. Even away from him, your body sets on edge at the thought of him. He’s going to be trouble for you, you’re sure of it.

Most of the mutants at Xavier’s are surprisingly accepting of you. The adults, you mean. You don’t tell the kids.

Maybe it’s because you have Jean and Scott on your side, but most of the adults don’t bother you after learning your secret. Most of them find out when you come to training wearing a sports bra and baggy pants.

A few have questions. Most just leave you alone.

You’ve never been more grateful that Logan wasn’t around than during that particular training session.

The tension between the two of you has only gotten worse. You’re sticking by your defiance to his posturing, even at the expense of your pride. Your nerves hate it as well, practically screaming at you whenever Logan gets too close.

Part of you can’t figure it out. You’ve been around men like him before, but never with this reaction. The other part of you doesn’t care enough.

And yet, you care enough to be relieved that he doesn’t directly know your secret. It’s not a huge deal; you’re pretty sure Jean would’ve told him by now. But it’s still nice that he doesn’t know from you.

Until he does.

The whole day starts with you feeling off. You have one of those good dreams, and wake up in a puddle of your own slick. Definitely a damper to your morning.

Then they run out of your favorite breakfast food, some of your students are late to class, and it goes on and on.

By evening you are pissed. Not just at life but at yourself. Because the one thing you cannot get out of your mind is your dream.

You can remember strong arms. Growls of your name. A thick cock bullying its way between your legs. Delicious pleasure.

But you cannot remember the face. It eludes you all day. Stuck there at the back of your mind. On the tip of your tongue.

It’s not until Logan walks into your classroom after your last class that it hits you. With horrifying, picture perfect clarity.

Logan. It was Logan. You had a fucking wet dream about Logan.

Even worse? You’re not as opposed to the idea as you thought you’d be.

For a moment, you’re just staring at Logan. He raises an eyebrow. “You okay, bub?”

“Uh, yeah.” You hastily gather up your things, hoping beyond hope that he can’t smell the slight arousal you feel.

You know it’s too late when you brush by him and he stiffens. You know he can smell you. It doesn’t help the problem.

“What—“

You make your exit. Very fast. Very undignifying. But he doesn’t follow, so you count it as a win.

Two things change. The first is that you start avoiding Logan as much as possible. The second…

Well, the second is that he features in every single one of your dirty fantasies. Every wet dream. Every random horny thought. All Logan.

And it is infuriating.

Logically, you know why. He’s the protector of the house. The ‘alpha’ of the pack, so to speak. Sooner or later your body would react to his presence. He’s strong, handsome, and gruff. Literally your type.

You still blame it on your biology and pretend you don’t think of him when you get off.

It works for a week. One week, that’s how long you get before Logan corners you in the Training Room.

The moment you smell his musky scent, you know you’re fucked. He smells like anger. And something more that you try really hard to not think about.

But this moment was to come eventually, so you gear yourself up and face him head on.

You know you’re a sight. Sweaty and out of breath, wearing a sports bra and pants. If he didn’t know before, he sure does now.

Logan stops a few feet away from you. He eyes you up and down, frowning slightly. For a moment, there’s nothing but silence between you.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he says gruffly.

You cross your arms and wait for him to continue. Slivers of anxiety spiking through your body.

“Why? Why are you avoiding me?” Logan looks frustrated and it makes you want to cower. Shrink down and beg for his forgiveness.

You hated it. How dare he make you feel this way? All because you’re stuck with a fucking wolf mutation that makes you want to hide like a little puppy from him.

So you push against your instincts. Straighten yourself up. Meet his gaze full on. “What does it matter why?”

Logan blinks. As if he hadn’t been expecting your defiance. Then he rumbles out a growl. “You missed the team training session yesterday. How are we supposed to make sure you’re ready for missions if you don’t show up?”

It’s your turn to blink. To stare. To be confused. “What?”

He crosses his arms, unintentionally making his forearms stand out so perfectly. Not that you’re noticing, of course. Just another pesky side effect of his presence.

“You’re one of the most capable mutants here,” Logan says firmly. “So if you have an issue, let’s talk about it now.”

“Wait, you’re here about missions?”

He nods. Then frowns. “What else would I be here for?”

Suddenly you feel stupid. Absolutely stupid. “So… you’re not here about…” You gesture to your body.

His frown deepens. “What?”

“You know,” your anxiety feels like fire ants in your stomach. “The fact that my body is—“

“I could care less, bub,” he says bluntly. “It’s your body.”

You want to cry. You want to laugh. This whole time you’ve been stressing about Logan, and he hasn’t given a single fuck.

You relax. Your anxiety dissipating so fast it makes your head feel funny. That’s one of your problems solved.

And the other?

Well, it only gets worse.

It all comes to a head on a random Tuesday.

Scott, Jean, and Ororo are off on a mission. The students have all been dismissed from their classes. You’re in the Training Room, working out yet another filthy dream about Logan.

Your fantasies about him have gotten more intense now that you know he doesn’t care about the way your body is. It’s a major, major problem. You’ve started getting dehydrated from the amounts of slick you’re creating.

Which is why you’re in the Training Room instead of getting off. You’re lucky Jean and the Professor haven’t said anything yet, but sooner or later they’re gonna know.

You’re working through your third round of training dummies when a scent catches your attention. Musk and thick smoke. You stop immediately.

“Don’t mind me,” Logan says, a hint of amusement in his gruff tone. “I’m just here to train as well.”

Your hopes for training might as well be ashes in the wind. There is no way you are going to be able to focus on anything other than him.

“Wanna spar?” You ask, false cockiness in your voice.

Instantly your instincts are screaming at you. Challenging the alpha to a fight? You might as well give up your position in the school now. No one challenges an alpha to a fight without a cause behind them.

Excessive horniness apparently didn’t count to your wolf brain. But it did to you.

Logan eyes you. He seems tense; can he smell your light arousal in the air?

“Sure.” You find yourself both relaxing and tensing at his agreement.

You clear the floor and get into your positions. Your instincts start to settle, helping you focus. You take a breath, and move.

The sparring is brutal. Fun and exhilarating, but brutal.

One thing leads to another, and the next thing you know you’re flat on your back. Logan pinning you down. One hand keeping your hands above your head, the other keeping your waist against the floor. His knee nudged between your legs.

You get wet ridiculously fast. You’re panting, gasping for breath, and you can smell your own arousal. You can feel the slick coating your thighs, soaking through your boxers.

You meet Logan’s gaze. Your wolf instincts are mostly quiet for once. Probably because he already has you pinned down. The only thought in your head?

Submit to him.

Logan’s pupils are blown. He’s panting too, and you know he can smell you.

“You into this sort of shit?” He asks, voice hoarse.

You can’t do much against the instincts of your brain. You let your head rest against the floor. “Into you, maybe.”

There’s a moment of silence.

Logan’s voice is rougher than you’ve ever heard it. The sound goes straight to your core.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he growls, “and it’ll never have happened.”

“I want this,” you say, a hint of a whimper in your voice. “Logan, I need—“

His mouth smashes against yours. It’s not pretty, it’s not delicate. He kisses you like he’s starving, ravaging your mouth. Nipping at your lips until the tang of blood fills your mouth.

It’s not pretty, but it makes you oh so wet.

You moan into his mouth, struggling against his hold on you. You want to rake your fingers through his hair, buck up against him, really just anything more than what he’s giving you now.

“Settle down, pup,” he growls.

Your body responds embarrassingly fast. You still, panting into his mouth.

“Please,” you beg, “please, Logan, I need you.”

He smirks. Nudges his knee against your crotch. Even the slight amount of friction feels like heaven and you chase it with a moan.

“Dumb little slut,” he mutters. “Bet you’re already soaked for me, huh, handsome?”

You just whine, too busy grinding against his knee to answer. You need more. You need more. Why isn’t he giving you more?

“Logan,” your voice breaks, “Please!”

“Please what?” His fingers ghost along the waistband of your pants. “Use your words.”

“Please touch me,” you whimper.

He smirks, his words dripping with condescension. “Good boy.”

You almost cum just from his words alone. And when his fingers dip under your waistband, sliding into your boxers to circle your dick?

Your vision blurs with pleasure, your body squirming underneath him. He doesn’t let up, just keeps rubbing his fingers against you. It’s torture, pure delicious torture.

“Logan!” You sob. “Too much!”

“Too much?” He mocks. “I can fucking smell you, pup. I can smell the amount of slick pouring out of you. It’s not ‘too much’ till I’ve drained every last drop of cum from your dick.”

As if to make his point, he stuffs two fingers inside you, stretching you out and making you sob. When you start to squirm, he shifts, letting go of your hands in favor of pinning down your waist. Keeping you firmly against the floor.

You burrow your fingers into his hair, gripping tightly to keep from screaming as he curls his fingers against that one spot inside you.

It’s exquisite, mind-numbing, perfect.

He bullies his cock inside you after your third orgasm, stretching you out and making you babble mindlessly. You’re a mess on the floor; fucked out, sweaty, and coated in your own slick.

The sounds are obscene, and you hope to god no one outside the room can hear you.

You can barely feel your legs, lost to everything except the pleasure and the feeling of his hands gripping your thighs as he pounds into you. Over and over and over.

He cums once, and fucks it all back into you. It’s not until you’re literally drooling on the floor that he finally lets up, cumming inside you for the second time.

You whine softly as he pulls out, blearily cracking open your eyes.

“Hush, pup,” he soothes. “Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

He lifts you into his arms and you nuzzle into his chest. Uncaring about how messy you are, or about the puddle of cum and slick left on the floor.

It’s just Logan for now, and you’re content with that.

[redcoralpot]

Eleganti - Poly!Stuilly x FTM!Reader

If you saw this before it was reposted, no you didn't.

Warnings: Implied internalized homophobia.

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.

-

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!”

-

[scekrex]

I saw that you're taking deadpool and wolverine x male reader requests? Idk if you do nsfw but can be either nsfw or sfw, up to you. I was wondering if you could do deadpool and wolverine (either deadpool x reader and wolverine x reader, or deadpool x wolverine x reader) with a male or ftm artist reader who asks wade and Logan if they can help him practice anatomy? Either the sfw route where they keep their clothes on or the nsfw route. If that makes sense. Thank you

We're rolling with Deadpool x Wolverine x Reader here baby. Implied ftm!reader, though that's only mentioned/implied with one sentence. Hope ya like it and that it didn't turn out too rough, it's been a while, gotta get back into writing lol

Baby paint me like a canvas

pairing: Deadpool x Wolverine x (trans)male!reader

warnings: language, sexual tension, implied threesome, implied smut

note: not beta read bc fuck you

“Wade,” your voice rang through the apartment, the noise bouncing off the walls until it reached the mutant you called out to. The merc emerged from the kitchen, with his arms crossed over his chest and a small smirk on his lips he eyed you up and down. “Babycakes,” the older man teased in return, the skin where his eyebrow would be located if he were to have body hair lifted up.

With your sketchbook under your arm and Logan by your side - you ignored the fact that you were dragging that man through your apartment like a dog on a very short leash, he followed suit and didn’t seem like he was having a bad time. Really, the opposite appeared to be the case. Not that it mattered in that very moment. “I need your body,” you blurted out, not even thinking about how wrong those words could come across - especially if you considered that it was Wade fucking Wilson you were talking to, there was no chance this man wouldn’t notice the double meaning of the words just spoken by you.

“Straight to the point, I see,” the merc seemed quite delighted by your choice of words as he pushed off the doorframe and started to walk towards you and Logan, that sly smirk on his lips didn’t fall for even a second. Red took a hold of the hem of his sweater and without a care in the world he pulled it over his head and let it drop to the floor. And really, it wasn’t like you’ve never seen Wade naked, the man could be quite confident about his body if only he wanted to. And yet your eyes were glued to his naked torso the moment the fabric revealed scared skin to not only your view, but also Logan’s. Who exhaled a little heavier than needed at the sight of the shirtless merc. “That’s not what he-” Logan began to speak, the older mutant clearly wanted to explain to Wade that he could keep his clothes on for that, wanted to tell Wade that naked skin wasn’t needed. But before he could ruin this sight for you, your hand covered his mouth and therefore muffled his words, “Sh, sh, sh, lemme have that.”

The merc only smirked at that sight, moving to unbutton his pants as well and really who were you to stop your boyfriend from undressing? Instead of telling Wade to keep his clothes on, you turned towards Logan instead, an eyebrow raised at your other boyfriend as if silently asking why he wasn’t getting undressed too. Logan grunted, the gruff man batted your hand from the collar of his shirt and with a silent roll of his eyes he also started to strip out of the fabric that covered his skin. “Thought you wanted to learn anatomy,” the brunette mutant grumbled as he tossed his shirt onto the nearby table. His eyes were scanning Wade’s body - it was clear that you weren’t the only one enjoying the view that the mercenary delivered. And you really couldn’t blame the wolverine mutant, not when Wade was a feast for the eyes with all those muscles that stretched over his fit body and the cocky smile his lips had curled into.

“And I thought you were horny,” Red almost purred as he moved over to the same table Logan had tossed his shirt onto. Acting as if they were in a movie - or for that matter maybe even a shitty porn - he swept all the things covering the wooden surface of the table right off of it, clearing it in one smooth motion before he himself laid down on top of it in a somewhat seductive pose. With his eyes constantly on his lovers Wade shifted, exposing more of his body with every change of position. “Wanna draw me like this?” he asked, laying on his side with his hand on his hip and his head propped up on his other hand. “Or like that?” Wade continued, sitting up. One of his hands rested on the center of his chest, the other covered his crotch - or at least he pretended to do so because the man’s private parts were quite visible, regardless of what the pose suggested.

Logan only rolled his eyes again, his attitude remained somewhat grumpy as he pushed Wade to the side to sit down next to him. Compared to the merc, the wolverine remained somewhat dressed - means he was at least wearing boxershorts. Even if those did little to hide anything, you were able to see what you wanted to see and while it seemed Logan had decided to simply keep it a little decent, you knew that the older mutant was aware of how revealing his underwear was. Logan was aware how good his body looked and what sort of effect it had on you and Wade most of the time, little he did to rile you up was done unintentionally.

“Just- geez,” you mumbled under your breath. Your hands clenched around the pen in your hand, the sketchbook pressed firmly against your chest as you watched the two men you were dating doing their very best to distract you from the original plan of drawing them. “C’mon baby,” Wade hummed in a tone that was way too suggestive, way too deep to be taken casual. “Use your words.” And oh, how you hated that you loved what those words did to you. Yes, Wade was a flirt, so was Logan which really wasn’t a big help. But that. That he was doing full on purposely, doing his best to take your mind off of the drawing, to guide your thoughts to something dirtier, something that still included both of them. Your eyes darted between Logan’s muscular tits - the man was moving his muscles subtle enough to let you believe it was done unintentionally, yet enough to make them bounce a little - and Wade’s poorly hidden crotch.

It felt as if breathing was getting harder with how thick the air was, the sight of both of your lovers so on display had your body running hot and your mind coming up with fantasies so delicious, it caused your own boxershorts to soak in the slick of arousal that your body produced. Your pupils were wide and your tongue darted out to wet your lips. And before you were fully aware of what was happening and where this road was leading you - and them - your sketchbook fell onto the floor, landing right on top of Logan’s shirt while your pen rolled over the hardwood, right underneath the couch. Not that you cared - how could you care about something so small when the natural bulge in Logan’s underwear grew to something more lustful while Wade’s lips and the words they spoke clouded your mind with all the nasty things that you wanted them to do to you.

[42spideys]

Hello :)

could you do a 42 miles x trans male reader please

I falling down the rabbit hole that is miles 42 and 1610 he’s just so cute

MY MAN — e-42 miles morales x ftm!reader

synopsis: you tell miles that’s you’re a trans man and his reaction isn’t what you expected.

pairings: earth 42 miles morales x ftm!reader, earth 42 miles morales x m!reader, earth 42 miles morales x black!reader

tags: ftm!reader, possessive miles, kinda suggestive nun to crazy, miles is ur number one fan!!

note: miles is the number one trans ally in new york!! also this is lowkey short mb

“miles…can we talk?”

miles immediately got nervous, he thought you found out something about his prowler identity, but after seeing your nervous and fidgety demeanor he was even more concerned. he was sitting at the edge of his bed, legs slightly parted, waiting for you to spit out whatever was making you so nervous.

you chewed your thumb while hugging your waist, you were rocking side to side to try and calm yourself down. he sat there quietly, he knew that you needed to think about this without any interruptions or you would get distracted.

“…so you know how i’ve been…reluctant about doing shit with you?” miles slowly nodded his head, still confused on what you were implying. “that’s because i’m not….cis…i’m trans. i’m sorry i didn’t tell you before we got together, that was so stupid and i-“ “that’s what you were panicking for?” you blinked at him confused, that wasn’t the reaction you were used to.

he stood up with an exaggerated sigh, wrapping his arms around your waist, his lips ghosting above your neck. “you really think i care about that?” he kissed your neck gently, making you pout. “i couldn’t care less if you have a dick or a pussy, all that matters is that it’s goin in my mouth-“ “miles morales.” you scolded him while tugging on one of his braids, making him bust out in laughter.

“you think you’re sooo funny, don’t you?” you crossed your arms in embarrassment, miles just smirked at you “ehh…i have my moments don’t you think, hermoso?” you rolled your eyes at the nickname, he was still attached to your waist, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“before you ask, yes, i am serious about still loving you. trans or not, you’re mine, and i’ll fuck up any nigga that tries you. aight?” he pulled back to look at you, the seriousness in his eyes made you feel safe. “yeah yeah i get it, you’re so big and tough, what would i ever do without you.” he pretended to think for a moment. “probably die to be honest.” “we can tussle right the fuck now, miles” you joked before being thrown on the bed, he then jumped on you making you yell in surprise. “get off me miles!” he whined loudly into your stomach, “not gonna, you’re comfortable.” you gave up trying to move him, just deciding to accept the fate your boyfriend lovingly forced on you.

[allzelemonz]

Tie: Slade Wilson X FTM Reader

Pronouns: he/him, Reader referred to as ‘boy’, ‘man’, and ‘handsome’ Physical Sex: AFAB implied Rating: G/Fluff Warnings: Mentor/protege, Reader is referred to as younger, Slade says trans rights, trans reader, ftm reader, suits and ties, transition process, tying ties, fluff, Slade being nice for once, undercover mission Summary: Slade teaches you to knot your tie.

Slade stands in the main area of the compound, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. His protege was supposed to be out here two minutes ago, dressed up and ready for an undercover hit. The kid is a mess. Simply ‘mess’ is likely the understatement of the century. Hardly up to par in physicality for a young man his age, abysmal progress altogether. And now, on top of all of that, he’s late.

He rushes in just a moment later, officially three minutes late.

“The hell took you so long.” Slade near growls. He hasn’t hit the kid outside of training yet and it has taken quite a bit of self restraint.

“Sorry, I couldn’t, uh…” The kid looks down, his hand mindlessly tugging at the undone tie around his neck.

“You can’t tie a damn tie?” Slade scoffs, looking down at the young man with knitted eyebrows. “Just how useless can you be, kid?”

“I’ve never worn one…”

Slade narrows his eyes, gaze moving between the kid’s tie and his face. “You’re a grown man that’s never worn a tie?”

That comment makes your heart flutter a bit. Slade is probably the one person in the world that you really want to pass around. His approval means everything at this point and hearing him call you a man just… it makes you smile despite yourself.

Slade’s head works like a machine as he studies you. Since you joined him he hasn’t asked questions about it. He knows. Not because you told but because all minute signs point to it. If he were anyone else, aside from possibly Batman, he wouldn’t know. But he’s seen you at your worst during his training, when you don’t have the strength to be your true self and are forced to hide in socialized mannerisms. And this is just another confirmation of it. Doesn’t matter, you told him you’re a man so that’s what you are.

“Come here.” He sighs. “I’ll teach you.”

You step closer, feeling a lightness in your stomach when Slade tugs you even closer by the tie. He mutters the instructions under his breath, tying a half knot a few times before shoving your shoulder back and telling you to do it yourself this time. You try to recreate his process and he watches you fumble through it until there’s a decent knot tightened around your collar.

”Handsome.” He mutters, but you catch it. “Let’s go. Job’s not going to do itself.”

He steps away, grabbing his gun and tucking it into his waistline. His mind thinks too fast for him to stop but he fully recognizes the feeling of falling.

[taurder]

Hello! Found your blog recently and it's just so good, I just wanted to leave a request for Miguel and a (ftm) reader who just started a relationship and someone finds out?

Their relationship being quite under the radar, but if someone knew what to look for, they'd notice? Perhaps being caught while being affectionate towards one another? If that's not your thing, it's alright, thank you anyway!

ftm!top!reader x miguel o'hara

contains: implied spider-person reader, nothing nsfw, just a little implying. ftm reader but very mild?

note: thank you so much! and i hope you like it, i thought the idea was cute but i realized too late that the reader being ftm isn't as obvious? maybe? still, first sfw thing here, so have at it.

Is it peter's idea or you and miguel seemed different? not in a bad or concerning kind of way, and you had changed this past year but he didn't meant that. he has seen miguel being relaxed, he probably is one out of five people who has actually witness a genuine smile plastered in the face of the headquarters' leader, and even so that didn't happened regularly enough. and still there he was: full on costume as always, towering over you and crossing his arms as he usually did when he was giving a lecture about a mission going wrong, smiling.

and usually peter would take a glance at the room and either step in to try to convince miguel to tone down his anger or he will continue on walking, just hearing the screams from afar, depending of the spider-person receiving the lecture. but now what made him suddenly stop was seeing the smile miguel was showing. his eyes went wild because it was clearly his you screwed up the mission pose, and still he was just rolling his eyes, smiling easy as you seemed to tease with your usual grin.

maybe miguel was just in a good mood (was that even possible?) or he has just finished lecturing another hero and so his pose was like that even though you didn't mess up anything. peter smiled not entirely convinced but continuing on his walk, more slower now. he was about to forget about the interaction he witness when you walked right pass him, a big smile on your face.

"hey, all good?" he asked in reflex, as he did to anyone who walk out of a conversation with miguel. "uhm? oh yeah, i got lectured because an anomaly made a big fuss in the containment room. kinda my fault, see you at lunch?" peter stopped again while you waved goodbye, already shooting webs and getting out of there. he opened his mouth and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. that upbeat attitude and smile wasn't the usual demeanor of someone who just got yelled at, right?

jessica then made a comment to peter while they were at the cafeteria, several days since the meeting. "wasn't that miguel's dinner?" you were sitting two tables away from them, having a conversation with another parker and a spider-robot while eating a sincronizada out of a disposable food container, the exact same one peter had give miguel half an hour ago, the letters MO written at the lid by the cafeteria man who always send out something he thought he would enjoy. but there you were, devouring the cheese, ham and avocado in-between the tortilla. "so? maybe he wasn't hungry and gave it away" peter answered back, but now his eyes wouldn't stop looking at you.

days passed without thinking of that whole interaction, but then they were all called to a quick briefing about new discovered universe and a warning to be careful there. he was just about to leave like the others when mayday made a cute hiccup sound and he needed to show miguel. he turned, holding her in arms already voicing out the spider-man's name when his eyes catch up something quick. miguel's hand pinching your side just as you were walking away, both of you sharing a look and a playful smile (again).

it was casual, almost friendly if people didn't paid attention to both you and miguel's expression. but peter did, even if he continued on his rambling, demanding the attention of the taller man as you walked away, the brown eyes of the man staying a little longer on your figure before paying attention to peter.

"what was the last time miguel offered you his food?" point taken. they didn't talk any more of it, but now that they both were on the same understanding that miguel was acting different it was like every single detail was suddenly cristal clear in their eyes, pointing to the same conclusion.

to the way you seemed to always be near the wing in the headquarters closer to miguel's control room, to the way his eyes would focus for more seconds than intended in you when there was another briefing. one day, and jessica wishes she hasn't but she saw you two leaving the bathroom almost at the same time, him with slightly swollen lips and not exactly put together hair, and you with a cocky and satisfied smile, if she had been suspicious now this was full confirmation. they both noticed miguel's much calmer attitude too, not quite bubbly all around but at least he was less intense and wasn't snapping at people left and right anymore.

"i know two dorks in love when i see them" stated jessica after some weeks, more and more details just piling up after the other, to the way you would smile whenever someone mentioned him, or how miguel would only calm down when his eyes found you after returning from a mission. now both jess and peter were walking to the control room after being called there, the subject being brought up as it always did when discussing o'hara nowadays "...and honestly good for them, at least miguel isn't acting like he has a stick in his ass and is now actually getting something up–" the two heroes stopped, about five meters far from the entrance, just watching as you fully kissed their leader.

he was sitting on top of a desk with you between his legs, and even like that he had to lean slightly down so your mouths could meet properly. it wasn't heated, but there was intimacy in the way your slim hands were on his neck, fingertips touching his hair as his own right hand was at the desk, his left grabbing your arm, caressing with his thumb and enjoying the kiss fully with his eyes closed. peter turned then, taking jessica's shoulders to do the same as they both walked away.

"he's going to hiss at us for not showing up" they both laughed wholeheartedly, having just been presented to the confirmation of their suspicions "let the grumpy vampire enjoy himself, pete, he has bigger concerns than us right now".

[cybertroniannugget]

I am here for you

Optimus Prime x ftm reader

Dec 12

Accurate representation of me on ice

After yesterday's discussion, you actually find yourself on ice even after protesting. It's a bit dark once, but turns cute afterwards don't worry.

Warnings: implied transphobia, weird guy trying to be a flirt, crossing boundaries

About this fic: ftm reader, ice skating with the gang

"What are you doing?"

"Trying not to embarrass myself."

"Infront of Optimus?"

Your face, already reddened from the cold turned even more red as you blush, your pitiful attempt on speaking up for yourself failing miserably.

"You know what? Today is the day.", Lennox said, firmly pushing you toward the Prime, who stood at the sidelines, watching Bumblebee spin on the ice astonishingly fast.

Trying to protest, you make an effort to slide to the side, away from the soldier who seemingly wished to embarrass you.

Bending forward with your arms stretched out you try to regain your balance, slowly moving towards the railing of the ice field, hoping no one was watching. Holding onto the wodden handrail for dear life, feet sliding away under you, you curse internally, wishing you'd never set foot on the ice.

Lennox only scoffed in disbelief, sliding over to a group of his comrades, who were challenging eachother to skate as fast as humanly possible. But a few landing on their butts was inevitable.

Bumblebee and Jazz were making friends with a group of teenagers and young adults, carelessly skating around.

You felt a hand on your lower back which makes you wince. "Hey beautiful, just making sure if you fall, that you'll fall for me."

Shooting him a questionable look, you actually lose balance, falling right into the stranger's arms.

He didn't even attempt on lifting you up, just holding you like this with his arm around your waist again, his face too close for your liking.

"Get off me!", you protest.

"But we're having a romantic moment dear.", he whispers, grabbing your chin.

His breath hits you like a truck, the smell of alcohol making you dizzy.

"Hey, they told you to leave him alone!"

You try to turn you head to the right to look at Optimus, who approached the scene, but the strange man ripped your head to face him again.

"Him?!", the guy scoffs, staring at Prime.

Heart pounding in your chest, you try to free yourself from his grasp, the grip tightening even more.

"Let go now", Optimus yells sternly, pulling the attention of everyone around onto him.

"Nah man, she's mine, get your own."

The following events went by too fast for you to register them properly.

Optimus sped forward, sucker punching the dude, sending him to the floor.

He then pays no more attention to him, catching you, and lifting you back up to your feet, guiding you away.

The Prime's arm was tightly around your waist, while you held onto his other hand tightly.

When the two of you had left the ice, you sat down on a bench in a less crowded area, with you still hanging onto his jacket, trembling.

"Are you alright?", he whispers, his hand caressing your back soothingly.

Wrapping your arms around him, you hug him tightly, face buried in his chest.

He hugs you in response, the hand that had been caressing your back on your head now, doing the same.

"Thank you."

"Please do not worry. I am here for you."

[pretty-boy-streaming]

Little Brother ((Pt. 3) Oliver Aiku)

TV-MA: kissing, touching, implied sex, getting caught... several times, sendou finds you two out, ftm!reader, reader is sendou's little brother, made it pretty sweet

summary: every one of the u-20 members knows that sendou's little brother is off limits. they know he would flip out and kill them if he found out. aiku, however, loves tempting fate.

read part one, two

Sendou forgot his phone. He patted down his bag for it, patted down himself for it. He groaned when he realized his phone was completely gone. He groaned and sat against a wall, sliding down.

"So, you really can't find it?" Aiku walked over to him and leaned down to him.

"Nope. And I can't even call my brother to see if he can bring it to me." Sendou put his head in his hands, groaning loudly.

"Well I can..." Aiku trailed off. He's pretty sure Sendou would kill him just for having his brother's number. But, thankfully, you weren't the only Sendou who's number you had. "I can let you use my phone and then you can call him, yeah?"

"Oh, really? Damn, thanks, Aiku."

"Of course, anything for our ace."

Aiku was handing him the phone when a loud voice commanded the attention of everyone on the field.

"Heeeyyyyyyy! Shuuuuuu! Loooseeerrr, you forgot your phoooonnneee!"

Sendou's face went red and he jumped up to rush over to you. His face brightened when he saw his phone in your grasp and he pulled you into a tight hug.

"Thank you, thank you, thank youuu, so much!"

You chuckled and kissed his cheek. "What would you do without me, Shu?"

He looked around to his teammates and covered your mouth.

"Ssshhh- shsh- shush! That name is embarrassing!"

You removed his hands. "You think the name Shu is embarrassing? What's wrong Shu? I thought you loved it when I called you Shu when we were kids, and I would scratch my knees."

He blushed brighter and he stomped away from you. "God, you're supper annoying!"

While Sendou was putting his phone into his bag, Aiku slinked over to you, making sure that no one noticed him.

"Hey there, cutie."

"You really want to die, don't you?"

"He's not looking. Come on, I think it's time for me to show you where the bathrooms are."

You stuck your tongue out at him. "Fine then."

As practice went on, Niou and Neru looked around for their captain. Niou walked over to Sendou and patted his shoulder.

"You know where Aiku went?"

"He was taking my brother to the bathroom."

"Ah, alright. Let's find him, Niou."

"Yeah."

They walked over to where the bathrooms were and stepped in when they didn't notice Aiku was standing outside. Neru looked around and knocked on one of the stalls.

"You in here, Captain?"

There was a squeak and some rustling of clothes before a few whispers.

"Yeah- yeah, I'm here."

"Ah, we were just checking on you. And also, coach is looking-"

There was a soft moan that shut Neru up. Niou furrowed his eyebrows and stalked over to the stall he suspected Aiku was in before kicking the door.

"Captain, we can hear the girl you got in there!"

"Not a girl-"

There was silence between everyone before that voice spoken up again.

"Dammit."

There was a bit of rustling and swears on that side, but when the stall door was open, Neru and Niou looked over and saw you standing next to Aiku.

"See? Not a girl."

Neru's eyes widened. "Captain, Sendou is definitely going to murder you!"

Aiku put his hands behind his head. "Don't you think I know that? But... I mean, honestly? It's pretty damn worth it."

Neru groaned while Niou crossed his arms and sighed, turning away from you two.

"Sleeping with Sendou's brother is going to get you killed. If it was my brother who you were sleeping with, then I would definitely kill you."

"Which is why we're sneaking around."

You rolled your eyes. "I'm 18. I can make my own descions. Aiku's barely a year older than me."

"Aren't you a high schooler?"

"I graduated."

"Right..."

Niou and Neru sighed.

"We won't tell Sendou."

Aiku looked up at Neru who was also crossing his arms. They nodded at Aiku before they turned and left the bathroom.

"Aren't you going to join them?"

"Hey, I was in the middle of something. Come on cutie, let's get back to work, yeah?"

---

Neru and Niou didn't tell Sendou. No, they told all of the U-20 members except for Sendou. And they made everyone promise they wouldn't tell your brother about anything they knew you and Aiku did. The others walked in on you two various times, but Sendou never caught you.

Never.

But... nothing could stay secret forever. At some point, people get lazy, they don't check if the coast is fully clear, and then they get sloppy, not noticing when the front door opens or when there are footsteps going up to the room, or when you hear those same footsteps walking over to your room, or not remembering that you left your notebook in your older brother's room, or not having enough shame to at least pull away when you hear the door click open.

"Hey, dork, stop leaving your notebook in my-"

Sendou looked at the scene in front of him. You were sitting on Aiku's lap, wearing his jersey. He was lying on your bed... completely naked. You both looked up and stared back at your brother, who looked like he wanted, no needed to scream at that moment.

"My room. Get dressed and get in there." He slammed the notebook on your dresser before storming to his room.

You and Aiku scrambled to get properly dressed and shuffled to his room. Aiku sat down and you moved to sit next to them until Sendou spoke up.

"Nope. You're sitting next to me."

You sat next to him and he looked at the both of you before sighing and putting his head in his hands.

"How long."

"About a month. After you guys lost against Blue Lock."

He groaned louder. "Oh goddammit, that long?!"

You slowly nodded. He slowly sat up and looked over at you.

"Has he hurt you?"

"Nope."

"Has he made you uncomfortable?"

"Nope."

"Has he misgendered you?"

"Nope."

Aiku watched you two as he asked you various questions until Sendou stopped and leaned back on his hands.

"Fine. Aiku."

His head snapped up and looked at Sendou. "Yeah?"

"I have decided I won't kill you, okay?"

"Okay..."

"So long as you don't hurt my brother. If you do, and I find out, I will end you. Okay?"

"Jeez, don't play the cringy, overprotective brother, loser."

He narrowed his eyes at you. "I'm not playing anything. I know what Aiku can be like and... I just don't want you getting hurt."

You looked at him before reaching up and squeezing his cheek. "Stop with the serious shit, it doesn't suit you." You wrapped an arm around his shoulder and kissed his cheek. "And I'll let you kill him if he hurts me."

"That's my brother." He smiled softly.

Aiku nodded at Sendou. "I promise I won't hurt him, okay?"

Sendou looked at him and sighed. "Yeah, alright."

You stood and patted Sendou's head. "I'll also make sure you don't walk in on us again."

"Yeah, please make sure of that."

You brought up Aiku and walked out of his room, leaving Sendou to smile softly after you two left.

"Well... at least he has someone who loves him."

[littlebluespoon]

supportive but pervy roommate johnny

18+ MDNI trans reader implied? ftm ish. its kinda self indulgent really. pervy soap who wants you to put your hands on his dick

the more i think about it the more i feel the line "ye gotta ken how tae take care o' a cock before ye get yer own" is so soap coded. my evidence...

"Oi! Come 'ere," Johnny's shouting for you from your bathroom, he doesn't really need to, it's a small place you can hear him from anywhere. But when you cross the threshold you catch him with his pants down, literally.

"What the fuck Johnny?" you cover your eyes and turn your back to him, "What made you think I want to see that?" you shout in a whisper, mortified that you walked in on him and the shame doesn't get any better when you hear him laughing,

"Aww come oan bug, 'am only tryin' tae help ye," he grips your shoulders and pulls you into the bathroom and next to the toilet, "Yer the one that wants a pretty dick of yer own, so 'am only tryin' to teach ye how to take care o' it."

You keep your eyes covered, refusing to look at your best friends cock, and when you hear the sounds of running water, you run for the door. Johnny's laugh echoes in your ears.

[knoxmares]

April Showers Day 1 - Leaking

MINORS DNI

tags: gn dom reader, sub ftm trans idia, piss, implied snz kink, a dash of dumbification, possibly ooc idia

Eyes focused on the movie playing on the laptop in front of you, you grab another handful of chips, picking out one to offer to Idia who is currently resting his head on your shoulder. This is more or less what you’ve done all day, enjoying the epitome of a lazy day as you alternate between playing video games and watching movies. He happily accepts slipping the straw of his drink out of his lips so he can open his mouth for you. 

As he crunches the chip you think how something like that would have flustered your boyfriend before, but he’s become much more confident in navigating all the different aspects of your relationship now. You give the top of his hand two little taps to express your fondness and leave your hand on top of his, absentmindedly tracing shapes on his cool skin as your attention shifts back to the movie. 

You’re only reminded of the prolonged contact when his hand is ripped away from you, his head also leaving your shoulder as he lets out a loud sneeze. He stays frozen for a moment, hand still over his face and you gaze at him with piqued curiosity. Wide yellow eyes shift to you and the faintest shade of pink flickers in the tips of his hair. 

“What’s wrong? Need a tissue?” You do your best to keep your expression neutral as to not betray your excitement at the prospect. 

“Oh! No” He’s quick to answer, eyes quickly flitting to the hand he takes off his face as if to confirm he doesn’t need one. He rubs the palm on his shirt anyway, which turns into anxiously playing with the neckline. “I just…um…nevermind.” 

“Okay…” you’ve never been one to push Idia, so you give him a moment, alleviating the pressure by facing the movie again. You can’t become fully invested again, however, all too aware of how Idia has shifted his body away from you. Previously he sat cross legged but now his legs are pressed together, knees pointing away from you, and the rosy tendrils of his hair grow increasingly vibrant. You’re only allowed to sneak glances at him because his eyes are very deliberately pointed to the screen although you’re positive his mind is racing elsewhere. This is confirmed when he suddenly speaks up.

“I…uh…didn’t need the tissue” he chews on his lip before continuing. “But when I sneezed…I..there was something…that happened…came out….I mean” He closes his eyes as if bracing for your reaction. Your lips part in surprise but quickly twist into a smile. You have a very good idea of what he means, but you’d much rather hear it from his lips. 

“What happened, baby?” You gently prod. 

“I didn’t realize that I had to… that it was full…” yellow eyes finally glance at you again, but they quickly shift to the opposite corner of the room so he can finish his sentence. “I peed a little…” 

“Oh…did you?” Your tone is one of pleasant surprise. 

“I guess my bladder could use some more EXP” He mumbles. It’s only the slightest movement, but you don’t miss how he rubs his thighs together.

“Perhaps it’s time for another boss encounter then” you tuck a piece of Idia’s hair behind his ear letting your fingertips trail down his neck as you enjoy his subtle shiver under your touch. “Feeling up to it?”

He nods quickly, licking his lips in anticipation. Moving the laptop you position yourself in front of him. “Let’s get these off, yeah” He nods again. 

“Can’t speak, baby? Are you too excited or too distracted by how full you are, huh?” He lets out a soft moan at your words.

“Which is it?” You tease the band of his sweats, letting them snap back onto his skin and watch as he tries his best not to squirm.

“Both. Please just take them off” He manages to get out. His desperation shows as he clumsily tries to help you, panting lightly afterwards as he allows you to guide his legs apart. You tsk at the sight that awaits you.

“I thought you said it was a little leak… I was expecting a spot maybe this big” You tease him by tracing a small circle over his underwear, intentionally avoiding his small, swollen cock. He mewls at the contact just barely shifting.

“But your underwear is soaked baby. Why don’t you feel how wet you are.” You take his hand in yours and guide his fingertips over the outline of the damp stain on his grey briefs. When they graze over his tip, he muffles a gasp, bucking his hips into his own hand. You help him apply more pressure to the sensitive area, delighting in the way he moans and tries to squeeze his thighs together.

“Can’t make it too easy for you” You keep his legs apart, continuing to stroke his length through his underwear when his own hand stops. You can tell he’s building up to a climax so you slow your motions, teasing him. Your other hand drifts under his shirt finding the bulge of his bladder. 

“Look at that” you slightly press on it causing Idia to whimper. “No wonder you had such a big leak. You’re so full, baby. Practically bursting and you didn’t even know. I bet it’d feel nice to let it all go”

“Please” he begs. You hadn’t intended to let him gain relief so easily, but the way he writhed under the small pressure of your hand was too hard to resist. You pressed down further, massaging his bladder, and pinch his tip at the same time, making him release a strangled moan. The piss comes first, stain growing quickly and leaking out onto his thighs. He twitches under your touch, climax coming soon after. 

After you help him ride out his orgasm, you place a soft kiss on his still sensitive tip, eliciting a weak whine from his lips. 

“Gained 100 EXP” he mutters.

You chuckle moving up to place another kiss on his lips this time. “Very deserved. Now let’s focus on that HP.”

[biting-miguel-ohara]

Age Difference with Logan Howlett

A/N: I hope this satisfies both the age difference and the bratting for this request. It’s not mentioned in the fic, but I wrote the Reader to be in his twenties or so.

ALSO!!! This fic is dedicated to the wonderful anon who sent me such a nice ask the other day. Thank you for your words; they were deeply appreciated. Also, bc it wouldn’t be here without them, this is dedicated to the anon who requested it. I hope it fits what you were wanting <3

Written for an ftm!Reader

Link to masterlist here

CW: bratting; implied age difference (Reader is younger than Logan); language; explicit sexual content; smut; mentioned spanking; Reader’s arousal is called slick; Logan carries Reader; Reader is called devil, pretty boy, and good boy; spanking; errrr Logan smacks Reader’s parts; Reader’s parts are called dick and hole; mentioned crying; slight fingering; Logan tastes Reader’s slick; unprotected penetrative sex; rough sex; missionary position, I think?; implied multiple rounds; implied cum eating; implied cunnilingus; no mentioned aftercare

1829 words

It starts as all your great plans do. By impulse and a touch of chaos.

“Hey. Can you get me a beer since you’re in the kitchen?”

You don’t even look up at the sound of Logan’s voice. You know he’s talking to you, but you make him say it again before glancing over at him. “Hmm? You want what?”

His eyes narrow. You know he can tell you’re up to something. “A beer. Please.”

You almost do it. Just for the addition of the please. But the chaos in you wins out. You turn away again. “Do it yourself.”

Then, just to add fuel to the fire, you add, “Old man.”

Silence. You revel in it. It’s not everyday you can get him like this.

After a few moments of you continuing to not get the beer, he stands up and gets it himself. Muttering, “Fucking brat,” on his way back.

You know you’ve gotten off lightly, but that’s not what you were wanting. No, you want to see him all riled up and pissed off. He always fucks you rough on those days.

You do it again on a mission.

“Hey, kid, can you pass me the—“

“No.” You hate it when he calls you kid. It makes you feel small. A little too young. And he usually remembers that.

“Please, can I have the—“

“Nope. Go fetch, old man.”

You can feel how much he wants to spank you. Smack you across the ass and growl out that you need to behave.

But you’re around others, so he just grunts angrily and goes to get it himself.

The final blow is when he’s in the mansion garage. It’s late. Everyone’s in bed except for him. And you, but only because you spent way too long waiting for him and now you’re pissed enough to go find him.

You lean against his workbench, watching him intently. You know he knows you’re there, but he only acknowledges you with a grunt.

Then, “Pass me that tool, will you?”

You know which tool he’s talking about. It’s literally right next to you. But you hold his gaze as you speak. “No. Get it yourself, old man.”

His jaw clenches. After a moment, he steps back from his motorcycle and brushes off his jeans. He turns to face you, gaze dark and unyielding. “You know, I’m getting real sick of your fucking attitude.”

His tone sends a thrill down your spine. All dark and growly and low. You’re not surprised to feel slick gathering in your boxers.

But he pauses. Sniffs the air. When he refocuses on you, his gaze is hungry. “So, this is a game to you, huh? You’re being a brat on purpose.”

You cross your arms, still holding his gaze. “And what if I am? We both know you can’t handle me, old— Fuck!”

He scoops you up, throwing you over his shoulder with ease. You squirm; half in discomfort, half because it’s so fucking hot. You know he knows, but still you protest. “Logan, put me down! I’m not a fucking kid!”

“You sure act like one,” he snarls back, striding purposefully through the dark halls. His hand coming up to grip your ass. “Sassing me and giving me that crap attitude. Can’t even act your fucking age for once. Gotta make me do all the goddamn work.”

“I didn’t mean—“

“I know exactly what you meant, you little devil.” His fingers dig into your ass, a subtle warning. “You meant to have some good old fun with me, didn’t you? Maybe get me all riled up so I’ll fuck you all nice and angry like.”

You keep your mouth shut this time. He knows you a little too well.

At your lack of an answer, he spanks your ass. Hard. You yelp and squirm, not expecting the blow at all. “Logan!”

“I asked you a question. Answer it.”

“Yes! Yes, that’s what I was doing!” You whimper a little. Maybe if he wasn’t carrying you, you’d give him more attitude. But in this position? You’re practically defenseless.

Not to mention, the puddle of slick in your boxers is getting uncomfortable with your pants on.

So you keep quiet, letting him carry you without issue to his room. As you pass, you’ve never been more grateful that Logan’s room is the furthest in the mansion. You can be as loud as you want without disturbing too many of the teachers.

Some of them will just have to suffer.

Logan opens the door to his room and enters. Shutting it behind him.

“You little motherfucker,” he growls, tossing you on the bed. “Strip. Now.”

You scramble to obey before you even realize you’re doing it. Pushing your pants halfway down your legs before it occurs to you to argue.

He can sense your hesitation. He lets out a low growl, eyes narrowing. You resume taking off your pants.

“That’s a good boy.”

A part of you preens at the praise. The other part wants to snark back. You just pull off your shirt and keep quiet.

Your boxers are sticky with slick. Sticky and uncomfortable. You need them off, and soon. You don’t know if you can go another moment without Logan touching you in some way.

As if on cue, Logan reaches over and hooks his fingers under the waistband of your boxers. He yanks them down, making you squirm from the sudden rush of cool air against your sensitive body.

“Logan… don’t be—“ You stop. Now is not the time for whining, especially not with that look in his eyes.

“Don’t be what?” His voice is low, a dangerous challenge. “Don’t be what, pretty boy?”

You squirm and fight back a whimper as he forces your legs up and apart. Pressing your knees to either side of your chest. Exposing you to him.

When you don’t answer, his hand comes down. Hard, right on your aching parts. You yelp, words bubbling out of you. “I was gonna say don’t be mean! But— Then I remembered—“

“You want me to be mean.” He growls, low and deep. “Fucking greedy little thing. You’re never satiated, are you? Always whining and begging after me for more.”

His hand comes down again, the wet slick coating your thighs only making the sound worse. You jolt this time, blinking back prickles behind your eyes. You know he’s trying to get you to cry. But you’re not going to give it to him so easily.

Even if you really, really want to.

His fingers swipe along you, gathering up your slick and circling around your throbbing dick. You shudder at the pleasure, whimpering softly. It feels so good after the pain.

He pops his fingers into his mouth, sucking the slick from them. He groans softly, eyes darkening at the flavor. “You taste delicious. If you weren’t so damn bratty, I’d consider feasting on you. But you had to go and be a little bastard.”

His hands move to his belt, unbuckling it and letting his pants drop to his ankles. He steps out of them, stripping out of his boxers as well.

Your mouth waters. He’s already hard, so thick and long you can practically feel him in your guts already. You wanna suck him off so bad. Make him see you could be a good boy.

But the desire for him to fuck you is even stronger.

“Please, Logan,” you whisper.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.”

He smirks. “Since you asked so nicely…”

He lines himself up, leaning over you. He pins your hands down, gripping your wrists firmly in one hand. “I’m going to fuck the brat right out of you. And if it doesn’t work the first time, I’ll do it again and again until you’re too cockdumb to argue.”

The threat sends a thrill down your spine. You open your mouth to say something snarky, but he pushes in. Slowly working his cock deeper and deeper into you. Splitting you open.

Your words die on your tongue, replaced by a whiny moan. You clench hard around him, making him growl and dig the fingers of his free hand into your hip.

“That’s— fuck— much better.” He grunts, slowly rolling his hips to push his cock further into your leaking hole. “God, I love the sounds you make. So desperate and needy.”

“Fuck, ahhh! Logan!” You clasp your hands together, squeezing tightly as your body takes him. It feels like heaven; being split open until you feel like you can’t possibly take any more.

He finally bottoms out, allowing you a moment to adjust to his size. Then he pulls out and slams back in, making you arch and babble. He does this a few more times; slow, strong thrusts that split you apart and go so deep you swear his dick must be reaching your stomach.

Then he picks up the pace, and your mind turns to mush. You can’t think, can’t moan, can’t do anything but babble out cries of his name. You’re arching, writhing, squirming desperately to be able to hold onto him.

But he keeps your hands pinned firmly down. Speeding up until he’s fucking you roughly. Like you’re nothing but a thing for him to use.

“That’s my good fucking boy,” he snarls out. “Taking me so well.”

You can feel your orgasm mounting. Building and rising until you’re begging, pleading, and finally sobbing for him to let you cum. You know better than to cum without permission, especially when he’s all riled up like this.

“Cum for me, you little brat. Cum for me like a good boy.”

You clamp down on him, squeezing him as your orgasm hits. You arch and cry out, your vision going fuzzy.

A moment later, you relax into a puddle. Melting into the sheets as he continues to fuck you. Making you whine softly from the shocks of pleasure and warmth seeping through you.

With one last big thrust and a snarl of your name, Logan pulls out, cumming all over your dick and hole. He pants, releasing your wrists to drag a hand down his face. “Fuck.”

He sounds out of breath, but his eyes smolder with embers of heat. “You did good.”

You give him a lazy grin, stretching a bit. “Wanna clean me up? Or am I still too much of a brat for that?”

He huffs, a low growl in his tone. “Oh, I’ll clean you up alright. I’m making good on my promise. I’m fucking that attitude right on out of you.”

For a moment, you’re sure he has to be joking. You’re already weak from the strength of your first orgasm. He’s not really gonna make you go again, right?

But as he moves to lay between your legs, a couple things become clear. One, you’re in for a long, long night.

And two? He looks way too good between your legs.

[froggyart]

The intro blog was long overdue

So I have just been aware that I am a introvert off and on the internet so this is a get to know me....

Names and pronouns:

Name: You can call me Kermit, or Felix (but I would prefer you call me Kermit)

Pronouns: I am trans (FTM) and my pronouns are He/Him

Hyperfixations:

We all know I like Kuroshitsuji but I also like...

Old Fairy tales (like Snow White)

DC (sometimes Marvel)

Victorian Era/Medieval Times °O°

Old movies and cartoons (Rubber hose cartoons like Betty Boop)

Animal Crossing

Pokémon

Scooby-Doo

Monster High

Greek Mythology

(I just haven't really been focusing on them because of Black Butler)

I do intend to focus on these in the future if I ever have nothing to draw cuz I sometimes run out ideas of Black Butler (like the horrible fanart of Grelle, Wolf, And Sebs *gag*)

DNI:

People who ship Sebaciel (let's just get that out of the way)

Transphobes/Homophobes/Racist/Xenophobes/Fatphobes (which I have not interacted with, and let's keep it that way) proshippers/comshippers/lolicons/pd-files...

*SIGH*

So basically if you are all these things please kindly fick von and don't interact other than that everyone else is welcome°U°

What you can expect from me...

I do art, that means fanart, my own art, sometimes reblogs of art , and or fanfictions (if I feel comfortable sharing it:)

Starting from today going on I shall focus on other things other than Kuro (and if I don't stick to my word then may the devil drag me down)

Also this blog is 17+ so if you are under the age of 17 I don't post risky stuff, but there might be slight gore or coarse language, maybe sometimes implied things

for example this:

Also I have one another blog if you want to see what happens on that side of my brain that isn't just hyperfixations

ghostlyblog

I usually would just post comics that I make there so, yeh

This is Matts(MC from a comic of mine, and the pfp of the blog)

Also feel free to interact with me by asking me questions and stuff my asks are open to anything involving questions about random things or my AUs, OCs, HCs, or just questions about certain interests feel free to ask away....

pls I need interaction

[reallygrossstuff]

for the friday the 13th requests, would you consider doing some ftm transformation/masculinization? or something with trickster mode and weight gain? preferably with jake on the receiving end of either of these!! your fics are like life fuel

Sorry it's so late! I didn't want to leave your idea unwritten, so hopefully I haven't left out anything you'd like in this. Please feel free to let me know what you think!

"Just stand still, I'll get you measured for your costume."

Jake shifted from foot to foot, but eventually did as Dirk had asked, holding still as Dirk took measurements and made notes. He didn't technically have to do any of that, but Jake was at least bright enough to notice if Dirk wasn't doing any of the things he was supposed to be doing.

Really, all he'd had to do after Jake had swallowed that candy was bide his time and say the right things.

"So! What kind of costume were you thinking of making for me?"

Dirk shrugged. "I haven't decided yet, these are just the basic measurements. But I was thinkin' maybe some sort of villain or henchman, play on your masculinity."

"…my masculinity?" Jake asked, clear scepticism in his voice. It wasn't unwarranted; with his smooth skin and lean build, Jake was about as masculine as Dirk himself, with an Adam's apple and not much else to show for it.

This was where Dirk would come in to sell it. "Yeah, obviously. With the right outfit, all your real tough guy features can come out and pull their weight."

"Stop pulling my leg and tell me what the real plan is, Dirk! I can't well pull off anything like what you're suggesting."

"No way, you definitely can." Here was where Dirk mentally crossed his fingers, hoping he'd given his preparations long enough to take hold, that Jake would be properly suggestible. Running one hand over Jake's arm, he said, "Like all this muscle you've got here, you've got those big brawny arms henchmen always have in movies."

Jake opened his mouth to protest, and Dirk worried he'd spoken too soon, but then he paused, a slight glaze coming across his features. "My… hm. What was that?"

"Your arms." As he spoke, Dirk felt the effects of his words; Jake's arms were swelling with new muscle, growing rounder and firmer as Dirk's hands could no longer find bone. "You look like you carry fridges for a living, man, how does that not fit the part? I mean, you're built all over, but they're definitely where most of it goes."

"Hm… hm, yes, I suppose you're right." Looking down at himself, Jake didn't blink at the change coming over his body, simply flexing one of his arms curiously. "They are rather big, aren't they?"

"Huge," Dirk agreed immediately, nodding as well. "I dunno why you aren't prouder of these things, they're really something."

"Yes, well." Jake literally puffed up with pride; the more he thought about himself the way Dirk implied, the more he resembled that implication. "I don't want to boast, you know, it'd be unsporting."

"Boast all you want, bro. You think people aren't jealous you've got all this hairy muscle on show all the time?" Dirk was laying it on thick, but he didn't care, focusing more on watching Jake's muscles begin to put strain on his shirtsleeves and the legs of his shorts, short hairs sprouting from previously smooth skin. "Definitely makes up for you puttin' on the pounds."

"Mm, what was that you said? I mustn't have heard it right, I thought you said-"

"-that you've been putting on weight, you heard right. You eat like someone twice your size, you're gonna start catching up to that. You think I didn't notice?" Dirk slapped Jake's currently-flat stomach, taking a moment to feel his abs before they went away.

What came next was out of Dirk's control in the best way possible. With that one thought inserted into Jake's self-image, the man began to pad out in almost every direction. He'd been growing taller already, shoulders broadening and his middle filling out, and all that height became easy ground for width and depth to take hold of him.

Jake's stomach curved out immediately, pushing out his singlet top until a large slice of fuzzy flab sagged in open air. His shorts grew tighter at the thighs as his legs gained some thickness, making up for the lack of new muscle that had settled there. His arms, while still visibly strong, lost some of their definition and gained a slight wobble as he continued to flex them curiously. Even his face softened, his previously-squared jaw rounding out as stubble bloomed across newly sagging cheeks. He was by no means obese, but Jake was definitely overweight now, and he'd stay that way if Dirk had any say in it.

"Er - now, hold on." Jake continued to frown at his jiggling arm, some lucidity entering his gaze again. "I don't think I recall looking like-"

"You're thinking too much." Dirk interrupted Jake without hesitation, cutting off the thought before it could cause any damage. "You shouldn't think about things this much, you aren't good at it."

"W-what?"

"Think less. Pay less attention. That's what I'm here for, I keep an eye on the small stuff so you don't have to bother."

This was a harder sell than what Dirk had said before, and it showed in Jake's continued frown, the way his body tensed as if resisting the suggestion. But Dirk leaned in, his slimmer hands groping Jake's thick arms and stroking through the new hair there, and he could see Jake's resolve dimming. "I suppose you've never steered me wrong before…"

"And I won't now. So stop trying to impress me with those big words, I know you've got not clue what half of those mean. You're the guy in charge, you just say what you feel."

"Yes… yeah, I do." Jake began to smile again, his eyes unfocusing as the concern left his expression. Dirk reached up and took the spectacles right off his face; they didn't look right on him any more, with so much less intelligence to light up his eyes. "Dunno why I ever bother with that crap, really."

"Neither do I," Dirk replied, tucking Jake's glasses away into his sylladex where they wouldn't prompt any difficult questions. "I got all your measurements by the way."

"Huh?" Jake barely turned his head towards Dirk, still watching himself flex idly.

"We're done here. You can go push shit around in the basement or whatever you do all day, I'll make your costume in time for Halloween."

"My… oh! I forgot about that," Jake explained, as if Dirk couldn't have guessed. "Thanks for doing all that, I really just don't care for that fiddly shit."

"You're still talking too much." Dirk might have been pushing his luck, but the power he had over Jake in that moment was compelling, and he pushed without hesitation. "It's easier to talk to you when you don't talk back."

Jake opened his mouth to respond, then paused, the words clearly fleeing him. He stood in place for a moment, and Dirk wondered if he'd have to repeat himself, but eventually Jake responded with a simple, "mmh," and began to trudge away.

No sign was left of the person Jake had been before Dirk's suggestions got in his head; physically, emotionally, not to mention his personality. He looked like an older, more rugged, less sensitive version of himself, the kind of man that belonged in the rough climates Jake had grown up in. His steps thudded through the house as Jake went off to find something simple to occupy himself with, and Dirk let himself feel accomplished for a minute before returning his attention to his work.

Jake looked the part now, but Dirk still had to come up with a perfect costume for him at the Halloween party.

[offbeat-manga-ships]

KIMI NO NEIRO (キミノネイロ)

Your Melody / Fukushima Haruka

Complete, with 16 chapters / 4 volumes

F/M; Shoujo, Romance, School + genderbender, gb: mtf, gb: ftm, fem m, masc f, cross dressing, taller f x shorter m, queer & ambqueer, ambiguously genderqueer

SUMMARY: Akira Tsubakiya has spent her whole life being told she looks like a boy. She’s super tall, she has a flat chest, and she’s not girly at all… In middle school, she made a promise with a boy who went to her cram school, Haru— a promise that they both would aim to get into the same high school, a prestigious academy. Haru told Akira that he likes girls with long hair, and since she started to fall for him, she grew it out. Now she’s graduating from middle school, and has decided to confess her feelings to Haru. Unfortunately, she finds out that he has a girlfriend—a super-cute, girly, long-haired girlfriend! Akira runs home and chops off all her hair, deciding that there’s no point to trying to be girly. Fast forward to Akira’s first year in high school. She still wears a skirt, but she wears the top half of the guys’ uniform to school. She’s called “Prince Akira”, and all the girls are infatuated with her. Akira hasn’t seen Haru in a while, but she does bump into Haru’s “girlfriend”… who she discovers to be in fact a boy!

MAL score: 7.24 AL mean score: 66% MU average: 6.6

PERSONAL SCORE: 8 out of 10