#post top surgery advice

[varney-sioux]

So I have officially had top surgery. Tomorrow will be the start of my forth week since top surgery and final week of wearing the compression vest.

I was wondering if anyone had tips on getting moving and active (slowly, within restrictions) to gently get moving again? Like physical therapy exercises I can do at home, if anyone has ever had any. My surgeon is unfortunately new to top surgery and doesn't have allot of resources for that stuff. They certainly seem to know what they're doing surgically, but just haven't been at it long enough to I guess develop knowledge of this type of stuff to recommend. I'm definitely going to request to go to physical therapy as soon as I'm able to get ahold of my pain doctor. But I just was wondering if anyone knew things to get me started at home, because I feel like there has to be someone with resources out there that I'm not finding.

[that-trans-lad]

Okay flood me with advice, my fiancé left me I’m still madly in love and of course I believe I always will with her but she does not feel the same anymore. I’m finding it incredibly difficult to move on. I have lack of control of my overthinking mind and it’s been destructive.

[sapphicslut777]

today is by far the worst day post op (4 days po).. i’ve been sobbing since 7:30 in the morning. everything hurts and everything itches. i’m running out of guaze/abdominal pads already. i’m so constipated that wearing my binder hurts my stomach. and i’m overall terrified every time i have to wash and touch my incisions. i feel like i’m an absolute nightmare for the person taking care of me. i really just want to crawl into a hole and die there.

[thethingything]

so apparently the side effects from the metronidazole got to us so much that now I get to have recurring nightmares about it.

some of the side effects we had happened to match up with the symptoms of the start of a much worse reaction you can have to those meds, and luckily it didn't end up being that, but we spent a few days absolutely terrified by the possibility of it, and clearly that was enough because now we're having nightmares about getting that much worse reaction.

I guess we'll see if that calms down any time soon, but given everything that's happened over the last few months I get the feeling that once we've gotten stuff sorted and things calm down a bit and our brain starts processing everything we're gonna realise just how much all this has fucked us up and trying to process and deal with it all is gonna be exhausting

[kingofsmalldeath]

anyone else who had to wear post op binder got rib pains from it? :( i don't know if i should make it looser or not but its starting to be kinda bothersome especially at the bottom where it rolls up a bit

[shinkei-shinto]

My gods it's my people, finally.

I had top surgery. Double mastectomy, the whole nine yards ten pounds of flesh. I was adamant - repetitive, calm, and completely sure - that I wanted a big honking scar.

You see, when I went in for the consult, I had dreams about those beautiful little subtle scars on either side, the pretty half ones where they sort of fade when the person twists?

And I got told absolutely not. I got told I would have maybe - maybe - an inch of space between mine. that I was fucked. that I would need to do a lot a lot a LOT of scar reduction work (silicone strips applied regularly, 3+ years of t-rex arms, physical therapy, lots more I can't remember) just to get mine to not be enormous and fuckoff huge.

So I decided fuck it. I was going to have enormous giant ugly (affectionate) scars. Fuck it! I got to the surgery, and after the lines and markings were drawn, guess what!! I had NO SPACE between the scars. That cemented my decision further: I wanted one BIG ugly scar. Fuck it!!!

For the next year I was told, over and over and over, "you'll have to go in for scar reduction surgery" "you'll regret not doing this" "you need to do this" "you need to do that" "you don't understand what you want and I do and I know better than you and no one wants scars so you don't either"

FIVE YEARS POST OP THIS YEAR, BAY-BEE, AND GUESS WHAT I STILL GOT?

BIG. FUCKIN UGLY. SCAR.

I love my scar. I love my scar so much it's on my fursonas. I love my scar so much I have a [redacted] price fursuit and that's got the scar on it, unchangeable, unremovable, PART OF ME.

I wanted my big ugly beautiful scar. Like my skin was torn apart - because it was! - like my world had changed - because it did! - and also, so that whenever a little kid asked, eyes wide and unaware of 'politeness' yet,

"What happened?! Why do you have such a big scar??"

"T-rex bit me in half. I got better though >:)"

Everyone on twitter is arguing against the terfs demonizing phalloplasty and top surgery by saying the scars fade and the flesh regrows over time, but has anyone considered that scars are cool and having huge, discolored, incredibly noticeable scars is based

[pretty-little-martyr]

trying to find a good post-top surgery med binder online and boy fucking howdy is it hard. i cant tell what brand(s) are the best or even going to work at all esp wrt the drains and stuff. does anyone have any recs

[boypussydilf]

its really funny that like. adventure time often is a profound and meaningful and affecting show but like- all the most popular quotes that get passed around as these beautiful things tend to be, like, bullshit when actually in context. Especially if Jake said it. saw a post the other day that said like “jake will give the most life changing advice but its just to cover for his own personality flaws”. “sucking at something is the first step towards being sorta good at something” is immediately followed by finn and jake performing plastic surgery with no training. his spiel about how rules and laws are made to benefit and protect the people who are already on top and keep everyone else down is just him trying to justify not paying rent to his son or something. marceline says “i don’t think there are bad people just that sometimes good people make mistakes and that’s not bad” and that’s great but the context is that she and LSP just assaulted multiple people for no reason, stole from a woman and then ran her over with her own car and locked her in the trunk

[parasocial-work]

HOW DO YOU HANDLE THE SCAR HEALING ITCHIES ???? HOW

[lessi-lovers]

the not so very well hidden II b.mead x v.miedema

summary: beth seeks help on how to manage with a newborn baby ★ the not so very well hidden II b.mead x v.mediema

beth and viv hadn't exactly tried to hide you away from anyone. it was just how it seemed to work out in the scheme of it all. with the amount of commitment it took to get through not one but two acl injuries, announcing you was the last thing on their minds. and so, you stayed in shadows away from the media.

beth didn't exactly know how comfortable she felt sharing her and viv's journey of adopting you a couple months past the first round of surgeries, and she definitely wasn't sure of the reactions that would spur if they did tell end up telling anyone.

on the other hand, viv wasn't at all bothered about telling people that they had decided to adopt a baby girl. she honestly enjoyed watching the attention you relished in by her friends and family, although she didn't think she'd get used to them showing up unannounced.

they had kept it tame, only introducing you to a couple of family members, then their cousins and aunts and uncles, and then finally a few close friends. it had all gone perfectly, you and your inherent bubbly nature entertained all of their friends to no end and nobody could stir away from your toothy grin and loud giggles.

it was only when photos of beth and viv walking around with a toddler surfaced on twitter that beth realised how much you would actually be exposed if they were to reveal you to the world.

she didn't like the thought of that.

she wanted to keep your smiley face and bright eyes away from the cruelness of social media. she wanted your first steps and your first words to be a private moment that would just be for her and viv, so they kept you a secret.

"what's on your mind beth?" steph, one of beth's closest friends asked. the two of them had been sitting on the porch, the both of them sipping their tea in silence as they watched the last of the sunset.

the australian had been worried about her friend for a few weeks now, the usually cheerful blonde always the one to make everyone else smile, but lately she just seemed so distracted and out of it from what steph knew of her best friend.

beth sighed, setting her cup down on the wooden table. "it's about y/n." she began, her voice warm even as she spoke so worriedly. "i've been thinking a lot about whether or not we should tell everyone about her."

steph nodded, understanding immediately what her friend was talking about, she had seen a few posts about the 'mystery baby' online but chose not to mention it in spite of comforting beth. "you and viv have done a great job keeping everything private. but why the sudden concern?"

"photos of us with y/n are all over twitter," beth admitted. "it just made me realise just how much exposure to the public she would get if we went public with the whole adoption. i don't want to expose my baby to the harshness of social media."

"viv's not as worried about it," beth continued, trying her best to explain how she felt in hopes her friend could offer the advice she usually would. "she enjoys seeing buttercup interact with our friends and family. but for me, it's different."

steph was on the edge of her seat, her hand moving to beth's knee as she saw a few stray tears escape beth's eyes, the tears dampening her top as she tried to muffle her cries.

"mum never got to meet her, and that still hurts. by the time i realised how sick she really was, the adoption was out of the question and i just wanted to be with my mum."

steph squeezed beth's hand, her expression softening from the one she sported just ten minutes ago, never having seen the fellow blonde so distraught and upset. "i can’t imagine how hard that must have been for you, beth. your mum would have loved y/n."

beth nodded with her lip between her teeth, tears welling up in her bright eyes. "i know she would have. she always wanted to see me happy and having a family of my own. it just feels like sharing buttercup with the world is letting go of something so personal, something my mum never got to be a part of no matter how hard she tried to stay with us."

steph took a deep breath, choosing her next few words carefully, she didn't want to mess anything up given how hard it must have been for beth to share this with her. "you know, sharing buttercup doesn’t mean losing those moments you have as a family. you and viv can still have those special memories, you can control what you want to share and what you keep just for yourselves."

beth nodded, appreciating steph's support even when she had just thrown this into her hands with no warning. "viv and i didn't exactly hide buttercup. it just sort of happened with how everything ended up coming together. two acl injuries and the adoption process.. it was overwhelming to say the least."

"you've both been through a lot," steph acknowledged beth's words, nodding along so the blonde knew she was listening. "how did the the introduction to your family go?"

"it was perfect. little one charmed everyone who came. they couldn't get enough of her actually," beth smiled fondly at the memory. we started with close family and then we moved on to our other friends and of course you."

"see, she is already loved by so many," steph pointed out, remembering how you giggled when you first saw her and reached your small hands out to grab her hand to pull her even closer than the aussie had already been. "maybe it's time to let the rest of the world know. on your terms, of course."

beth sighed, deep in thought. "i just want to keep the special things private. those moments are for us to enjoy."

"and they will be," steph assured the blonde. "no matter what, those moments will always belong to you and viv. nobody can make them any less special than they are to you. you can control how much you share with the world."

beth looked at steph, her eyes filled with gratitude. "thanks, steph. i needed to hear that."

"anytime, beth. whatever you decide, i'm here for you," steph said, giving her friend a reassuring smile.

[fatmasc]

is it too much to ask that other trans ppl don't assume my gender? I make disclaimers on pinned posts, on posts about my transition, on advice I give all to hopefully avoid these assumptions. People see my beard, know I got top surgery, and call me transmasc. people hear my voice, know I was once on progesterone, and call me transfem. how many times must I say I'm neither? why did we have to go and invent gender binary 2.0? there are so many trans ppl like me who are neither. and not just nonbinary people! not just other intersex trans people! why did we create these labels to broaden the understanding of transsexuality if we are just going to treat it like they're the only ways to be trans

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Hey, PSA for anyone who needs to hear it.

There are TERFs and transphobic people, articles, and memes out there who will try to crop post-top surgery care instructions as evidence that you'll have to deal with "lifelong pain and suffering" following top surgery. I just saw one on Facebook earlier that used care instructions saying "do not lift your arms above your head" as "evidence" that you'll never be able to do that again.

These things are lies. It's a good idea, I think, to fact-check ANYTHING you see online about gender-affirming surgeries because there's so much fearmongering out there.

I had my top surgery in July, it was the best thing that ever happened to me and I'm grateful for it every day. While it's true you shouldn't lift your arms above your head or lift more than like 8 pounds for those first two months, these guidelines are, first, standard surgical advice, and, secondly, often given out of an abundance of caution both to keep you safe but also to avoid stretching your scars while they're still fresh so they look better in the long run. My surgeon advised me to move "at my comfort level," and I was moving my arms well enough to wriggle into a t-shirt at five days out and my range of motion got better every single day. Two months after my surgery, my life was completely back to normal, with the benefit of being much more comfortable with my body!

If anyone tells you that top surgery will lead to "lifelong pain and suffering," just know they're either misinformed or being willfully malicious, and don't let it stop you from getting a gender-affirming surgery that you need.

[ms-demeanor]

Going off that post about nutrition and science, I'd love to hear what you think of the 5:2 diet/The Fast 800 and its creator, Dr. Michael Mosley. For context: in order to get an NHS-funded breast reduction (it's a gender thing, but also just a general quality-of-life thing), I need to be a certain BMI, so I've been referred to a weight management clinic. The lady I've been seeing initially just put me on a low-carb diet (130g or less of carbs per day, with an aside from her about how bullshit Keto and BMI limits for treatment are), but now she's said that, if I wanted to speed up the weight loss, I should include the 5:2 diet: 5 days in a week where I eat "normally", and 2 fast days in which I restrict myself to 800kcals. I did a little looking into it myself, and found that 5:2 - which I HAD heard about before - is now being sold as part of "The Fast 800", with Dr. Mosley being the creator of it. I was shocked by that, because I was already a fan of Dr. Mosley's work (he has a podcast called "Just One Thing" that I really liked, and thought contained reasonable-sounding advice), and yet having a diet plan that he's clearly making money off of does immediately make me feel suspicious. I've borrowed his "The Fast 800" book from the library, both to find out more about the diet I've been put on and to see if it's at all backed by evidence, and he does cite a bunch of scientific studies which seem to back up his ideas, but I don't know how valid they are, and I don't just want to accept them at face-value (especially since he's a "we got fat completely wrong in the 80s, therefore we should eat a Mediterranean diet!" types). Obviously I'll go with what my weight management lady suggests, since she's obviously more qualified to talk about it than I am, but I am curious to know what you think, and whether I'm right to be distrustful of all of this.

I am, generally speaking, against any diet for rapid weight loss. They're not sustainable so people gain the weight back (often with more weight getting added on).

There have also recently been findings that suggest that BMI cutoffs for top surgery are detrimental to patients as patients in higher BMI categories are more likely to have minor complications like UTIs or to be readmitted, but are not likely to have major complications or be at risk of significant harm from having top surgery. I don't know if anybody will listen if you bring up that study, and I know that GCS is fraught in many places for many reasons.

I'm also just.

I'm so mad. I'm so fucking mad! I'm so mad about this!

One of my best friends is a guy who was pressured into a pattern of disordered eating and unhealthy exercise in order to qualify for top surgery; since then he has not been able to eat in a healthy way and has struggled with alternating between exercising to the point of harm and other destructive behaviors that make him unhappy and unsafe. And he didn't need that. He didn't need any of that! He needed a very safe surgery that had perhaps a slightly higher risk of minor complications at his size and instead he got top surgery and an eating disorder! I hate it! I'm so fucking mad about it!

Also as near as I can tell Michael Mosley qualified as a psychiatrist in the 90s, spent very little time working as a psychiatrist, and then became a media personality. From what is visible on his website and every biography I've found for him he apparently doesn't have any background in nutrition beyond whatever is standard for someone in medical school (which is NOT MUCH).

Hey I just looked at his website and this is straight-up fucked up.

Anybody recommending an 800 calorie a day diet for 2-12 weeks in a context that is not heavily medically supervised can fucking choke. That is *ridiculously* dangerous and the website says that this can improve insulin resistance but there are a shitload of studies about people on crash diets like this *developing* insulin resistance (oh hey like my friend who became prediabetic after his rapid significant weight loss).

Also in regard to the studies he cites on the website, the "two years later patients are still going strong in their diabetes improvements" it's really important to put shit like that in context

at 5 years 13% of the original intervention group were in remission from their type two diabetes; the average weight loss experienced by the intervention group as a whole was 6.1kg compared to 4.6kg in the control group. That's 1.5kg lower for the people who went through a twelve week medically supervised very low calorie diet compared. That's an average difference of 3.3 pounds between "starvation diet" and "no diet" for the Americans in the audience.

Yours is the second comment I've seen that has been leery of the Mediterranean diet, btw, and the Mediterranean diet is fine. It's very achievable and not super gimmicky and is based on very reasonable reassessments of fat, not the hardcore "you are fine to eat 100g of fat a day" kind of attitude that you get from the keto crew. There isn't really one Mediterranean diet and it certainly isn't low carb (which the bits from Mosely's website seem to indicate it is).

So, no, honestly I don't think much of Mosely and I'm very sorry you're in this situation, that sucks and I hate that they're refusing you treatment until you undergo an exceptionally difficult and potentially harmful weight loss excursion.

I know you're probably stuck with that and it's bullshit and I think it fucking sucks and unfortunately the medical advice you're likely to get is "eat in a significantly disordered manner at least until it is time for surgery" and it blows. That just fucking sucks.

If you're looking for rapid weight loss that you don't plan to sustain (and you shouldn't plan to sustain it, it won't stay off) you may want to look into body building forums for how they discuss cuts. It's still disordered eating and it's still not healthy, but at least they're effective and can tell you what supplements will keep you from becoming malnourished while you prepare for surgery. This is a terrible idea. I don't actually want to give this advice to anyone but bodybuilders are the exact kind of people who know how far and how fast they can push weight loss while having an awareness that it isn't really good for them and it won't stay off.

I cannot overstate enough how much I hate the thought that people are being encouraged to rapidly starve themselves in order to prepare to recover from surgery. I am so sorry and I'm so mad and

[zerun0]

"More Than Flesh" —Trans!Viktor x Y/N (Female)

English is not my first language. Feel free to comment on any of my mistakes and i will update the post, also I am more than happy to receive suggestions, and advice on how to improve my work. — ! WARNING NSFW(+18): ! — Sexual themes, FTM, Trans!Viktor, Sex, Flirting, Making out, Teasing, Strap on, Vaginal. — Word count: — 2.5k (Full uncut version on AO3)

The golden light of a Piltovian morning poured into Viktor’s academy dormitory, casting long beams across the desk cluttered with blueprints, notebooks, and mechanical parts. His side of the room was as orderly as his mind, each piece meticulously placed, yet the evidence of late-night brainstorming sessions was everywhere.

A crumpled scrap of paper here, a half-finished sketch pinned haphazardly there. The faint scent of ink, metal, and oil lingered in the air, mingling with the cool freshness of the morning.

You sat cross legged on the edge of Viktor’s bed, holding the tube of testosterone gel in your hands. He stood near the window, shirtless, letting the morning sun warm his skin. His chest bore the faint, pale lines of his top surgery scars, a quiet testament to the journey he’d undertaken to become himself. The scars didn’t take away from his sharp beauty; they added to it, each line a piece of his story. You couldn’t help but, Admire him. “You’ve been staring,”— Viktor teased, his accented voice carrying a warmth that broke the stillness. He glanced over his shoulder at you, a playful smile touching his lips. — “Have I suddenly become fascinating?”

“Always” — You said, patting the space in front of you. — “...You have always been”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he moved toward you with a slight limp, his cane tapping softly against the floor. Viktor rarely asked for help, but in these small, quiet moments, he trusted you without hesitation. He settled onto the bed facing you, the sunlight catching the faint freckles on his shoulders.

“You could probably manage this yourself,” — you said, squeezing a small drop of the gel onto your fingers, — “but where’s the fun in that without my top-notch care?” Viktor huffed a quiet laugh, leaning forward slightly to give you better access. — “I’m not certain what I’d do without your boundless expertise,” — he said, his tone teasing but affectionate.

Gently, you spread the gel across the top of his shoulders, making sure to wear gloves of course, your fingers gliding over his skin with care. His shoulders tensed briefly at the coolness of the gel before relaxing under your touch.

You worked in slow, even strokes, mindful of applying it evenly. You couldn’t help but linger there for a moment, tracing the lines with reverence, you didn’t try to hide your soft gaze upon his scars, they are beautiful.

So beautiful… “You’re staring again,” — Viktor murmured, his voice softer this time.

“Can you blame me?” — you replied, pressing your palm flat against his chest for a moment, grounding him and yourself in the connection. — “These are part of you, Viktor. Every bit of you is worth admiring.”

He turned his head slightly, just enough for you to catch the faintest smile curving his lips. — “You’re hopeless,” — he said, though the words were filled with warmth.

“Hopelessly in love,” — you corrected, reaching for a tissue to wipe your hands. — “Alright, all set. Don’t put your shirt on for a bit, okay?”

“Do I look so impatient?” — he asked, standing slowly, steadying himself with his cane. He stretched his arms a little, testing his range of motion.

“Not impatient, just eager to get back to saving the world,” — you teased, leaning back on your hands as you watched him move to the window. Viktor stood there for a moment, the golden light catching the faint sheen of the gel still drying on his shoulders. His profile was striking, the curve of his jaw, the softness in his lips, and the quiet confidence that lingered in his every movement.

“You give me far too much credit,” — he murmured, his voice low, almost as if he were speaking to himself. He glanced over his shoulder at you, his gaze warm and lingering. — “You’re the one who makes any of it feel... worth it.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, tugging at something deep inside you. Rising from the bed, you crossed the room to him, your steps unhurried but purposeful. When you reached him, you slid your arms around his waist from behind, resting your palms on his stomach and leaning into the warmth of his back. Viktor stiffened briefly, more out of habit than discomfort, before melting into your touch.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” — you whispered.

He exhaled softly, one hand coming to rest atop yours where it lay against his stomach. — “You always find the words to disarm me,” — he admitted, his voice tinged with a vulnerability he rarely let show. He turned slightly in your embrace, his golden eyes locking onto yours. — “How do you manage that?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” — you murmured, your voice barely above a breath. You raised your hand to trace the faint line of his jaw, thumb brushing his cheek as you leaned in closer. — “Every time I look at you, I feel like I’m the one who’s been undone.”

Viktor tilted his head, leaning into your touch, his eyes half-lidded as his gaze flickered between your eyes and lips. — “Then perhaps we’re equally guilty,” — he said softly, his voice a low murmur.

Your breath hitched as his fingers, calloused from hours of tinkering, caressed the side of your neck, pulling you closer. The kiss, when it came, was slow and deliberate, the kind that unraveled you bit by bit. Viktor wasn’t the type to rush; his lips moved against yours with a tenderness that made your knees feel weak. His free hand found your waist, steadying you, his touch firm yet, so gentle.

The sensation of his skin against yours sent a shiver down your spine, the faint scars beneath your fingers grounding you in the reality of this moment.

Delicately, he walked you backward until the edge of the bed pressed against the backs of your thighs. His kisses trailed down your jaw, then to the soft curve of your neck. He paused there, his breath warm against your skin as he lingered, his nose brushing the sensitive spot just below your ear. The way he held you, firm yet so achingly careful, made your chest swell with desire, love, trust, and the understanding that this moment was as significant to him as it was to you.

As you sank down onto the bed, Viktor placed his cane aside and followed, his movements deliberate, as if savoring every second. His weight settled gently over you, his hands bracketing your sides, his gaze fixed on you with intensity. The sunlight streaming through the window painted his features in soft gold, highlighting the faint freckles across his nose and the sheen of his top surgery scars.

Your fingers found the waistband of his pants, hesitating slightly. Viktor’s hand covered yours, his touch steady as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Slow,” — he murmured, his voice a quiet plea. — “I want to savor this.”

You nodded, your chest tightening from the tenderness in his words. Together, you moved in a silent accord, peeling away the layers of fabric that separated you. Each piece of clothing removed felt like shedding the weight of the world. Now bare and unguarded, your hands roamed over his body, tracing his hips, then down the gentle line of his clit. He shivered under your touch.

Viktor leaned into you, pressing his forehead against yours. His eyes, molten gold in the dim light, searched yours with a mixture of trust and vulnerability. He whispered, his voice low, — “You don’t have to rush... do only what you’re comfortable with.”

“Viktor,” — you said softly, cupping his face with both hands. — “This is about both of us. I want to love all of you…, if you’re ready.”

His lips parted slightly, and he nodded, the corners of his mouth curving into a faint, shy smile. — “With you... I am.”

You smooched him, then reached to the bedside drawer, where the two of you had stored the strap and some lubricant you’d discussed before. Viktor had been nervous at first, self-conscious about being exposed in this way. But he trusted you, and the way he watched you now, steady and focused, made your heart swell.

You reached out to brush your fingers against his cheek, your touch light as a feather. — “Let me help,” — you whispered.

He nodded again, his breath hitching slightly as you moved with careful intention. Your fingers tremble slightly as you moisturize both parts of the strap.

You helped him fit the toy into place, its inner part blending with ease inside his cunt, as Viktor muffed his moans with his bare hands. The outer part was secured by the straps around his hips. Once everything was adjusted, he leaned against the pillows, gaze locked on yours, filled with a mix of anticipation and affection.

“How does it feel?” —you asked softly, your hand resting on his thigh, offering him a moment to acclimate.

He exhaled slowly, his lips curving into a faint, nervous smile. — “Strange,” —he admitted, his accent thickened by his nerves.— “But... good. It feels good.”

You leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his lips, slow and deliberate, as if to remind him that you were here with him, every step of the way. His hands slid to your waist as you kissed, pulling you closer until you were straddling his lap. The warmth of his skin beneath your palms, was a contrast to the cold and moist piece on his strap.

Viktor’s hands guided your movements, lifting you slightly so he could position himself. You both paused for a moment, your foreheads touching as you breathed in unison.

As you lowered yourself onto him, the sensation was slow and deliberate, each movement measured, as if you were discovering a new language together. Viktor’s breath hitched sharply, his hands steadying you as you adjusted to the new sensation. His golden eyes flicked to yours, searching for any sign of discomfort, but all he found was the same love and desire reflected back at him.

“It’s cold, but… It feels good” — you whispered, your voice breaking slightly as you began to move, finding a rhythm together.

Viktor’s response was a quiet moan, his hands guiding your hips as you moved. As the inner part moved inside his cunt in synchrony to the outer part inside yours.

“You’re beautiful,” —he murmured, his voice trembling as his lips found your collarbone, pressing kisses to your skin. — “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

You cupped his face, tilting his head up so he had no choice but to meet your gaze. —“You deserve everything, Viktor,” you said firmly, voice full of conviction. —“And I love you.”

“I love you too” — He replied with no hesitation, as you continued to ride on his lap, driving you both to madness, to ecstasy, to your limits. — “Darling…”

You stopped riding his lap, your body trembled, craving more, so much more. You looked up at Viktor, your eyes searching his, silently asking for what you both needed.

“Lay back,” — Viktor murmured against your lips, his voice low and breathy, yet laced with determination.

You nodded, allowing him to guide you with a careful but steady touch. Viktor shifted, gently easing you into the bed while he followed, his weight pressing down against you just enough to be grounding but never overwhelming. His hand trailed down your side, fingers brushing over the curve of your waist as he adjusted himself between your thighs.

“Is this okay?” — he asked, his gaze searching yours even as his hand came to rest on your thigh.

“Perfect,” — you whispered, threading your fingers into his hair, pulling him down for another kiss.

He adjusted his hips slightly, the toy now perfectly positioned as he guided himself into you once more. The new angle made you gasp softly, the sensation intense yet intoxicating. Viktor’s head dipped to your neck, his lips brushing along your skin as he began to move.

Viktor’s hands found yours, his fingers interlocking with yours as he pressed them against the bed. — “Tell me how you feel,”— he murmured against your neck.

“Like I never want this to end,” —you replied, breathless as you tilted your head to give him better access.

He groaned softly at your words, his lips trailing down to your collarbone, leaving warm, open-mouthed kisses in his wake. As he moved, the pace quickened slightly, his confidence growing with every sound you made. The room was filled with the quiet symphony of your moans, your shared breaths, soft gasps, and the gentle creak of the bed beneath you.

You arched your back, your body pressing against his as the tension between you built higher and higher. Viktor released one of your hands, sliding his palm down to rest on your thigh, lifting your leg slightly to deepen the angle. The shift sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and you cried out.

The sound seemed to spur him on, his movements becoming more deliberate, each thrust drawing you closer to the edge. His lips found yours again, his kiss hungry and consuming. “Vik, I love you, I love you so much,” —you breathed, your words mingling with his senseless whispers as the tension finally snapped, sending you both tumbling over the edge together.

Viktor’s movements slowed as he rode out the waves of your release, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your lips. When he finally stilled, he stayed there, body pressing into yours.

After a moment, he shifted, removing himself from your insides as he rolled onto his side and pulled you with him so you were tucked against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, his hand stroking your back gently as the two of you caught your breath.

“You’re remarkable,” — Viktor murmured, his lips caressing your temple. —“You make me feel... like I can be myself, completely.”

You looked up at him, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. — “That’s all I ever want, for you to feel safe…”

He smiled softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead before resting his chin atop your head. As the quiet of the room enveloped you both. Wrapped in Viktor’s embrace, you felt an overwhelming sense of contentment, knowing that this moment, like the love you shared, was truly one of a kind.

After a few beats of comfortable silence, Viktor's fingers, playful as ever, gently caressing against your side. You flinched at the sudden sensation, giggling as you squirmed. —“Viktor, stop!” — you laughed, but his fingers only found a new, ticklish spot along your ribs.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” — he said, voice dripping with mischief. —“Did I tickle you?” — His grin widened as he gently pinned your arms, his lips stroking over your cheek as he peppered tiny kisses along your skin, causing your laughter to bubble up uncontrollably.

Between gasps for breath, you managed to wiggle free and lock your arms around his neck, pulling him closer for a kiss that was as soft and teasing as the moment itself.

Finally, after a breathless pause, you smiled and pulled back slightly, your eyes sparkling with affection. —“Can we get coffee now?” — you asked, your voice light and sweet.

“Anything you want,” — Viktor agreed, his voice low and affectionate, as he took a nibble of your ear.

— Thank you for my friends R&S for helping me out with this one —— The Hexstrap is real —

[ajjpng]

The camera (and night lighting) makes this look a bit shit- colour wise, but I don’t care right now because I am so happy with it.

Like HELLO

I still need to do some colour pencil touch ups in the skin and everything but I’m just so happy with this. (Will probably post a pic in better lighting tmr)

ALSO I know this concept has probably been done before but it was just rly fun.

ALSO ALSO I know this is not DT’s body type- but I wanted to practice muscles and everything so yeah

Lastly- I’m really not that happy with the top surgery scars but I don’t really know how to fix it. I’m thinking of going dark to make them stand out more but I’m not sure (any advice = appreciated)

[konigsblog]

konig and transmasc!reader body worship post-top surgery (no bottom surgery)????? would mean everything to me. maybe him going down on the reader too. i have spoken LOL (also the trans info anon just put in your inbox was me, i just forgot my tag)

- 🔪💕

worship...

again, i've never written for a transmasc insert before. i may make some mistakes, but i'm open to any criticism and advice !! :3 🫂

cw: gender neutral parts used (hole), male titles, transmasc!reader, smut. !!

translation: “guter junge, schau, wie gut du aussiehst; lass mich dich so anbeten...” = “good boy, look how handsome you look; letting me worship you like this...”

könig adores your body; he's utterly obsessed with you, your delirious, pleasured reactions as he begins to spread your thighs, peppering soft and tender kisses towards your hole, worshipping your handsome body. könig is touchy; he'll run his hands down your body, towards your chest, tugging at your nipples with his calloused, scarred fingers, leaving soft kisses all over your chest.

you're drunk, intoxicated off of his love and adoration; how he suckles at your hole, muttering praise while encouraging you to toy with your nipples, like a good boy, all while he talks you through it, chuckling at your breathless, house grunts when he begins flicking his tongue against your wetness.

“guter junge, schau, wie gut du aussiehst; lass mich dich so anbeten...”

you're breathless, with your eyelids heavy, delirious as he drags his wet, dripping tongue over your slick, wet hole, his fingers pumping into you, stuffing you with two of his calloused, thick digits. thighs covered in dark hickeys, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he holds your hips down, watching you squirm and jerk skywards, rubbing against his mouth as he runs his tongue back and forth, his large and roughened hands gripping your thighs firmly, spreading you out against his face.

thinking about how könig will cover your body in kisses and hickeys, making sure everyone knows how you're such a good boy, who you belong to. :(