#transmasc!reader

[dehydrated-turtle]

Virgin!Jason Todd

//warnings// +16, mdni, transmasc!reader

Virgin!Jason who, dispite being 22 is still a virgin because he died at 15 and never really got any after he came back due to a visceral sense of revenge

Virgin!Jason who would cum in his boxers just from you grinding on top of him, the sight of the man of his dreams above him for the first time

Virgin!Jason who would whimper so sweetly in your ear because of how overstimulated he is the first time you have sex

Virgin!Jason who would be so flustered about anything sexual for the first couple of months into your relationship because he's so new to it and he still thinks about sex like a 15 year old boy

Virgin!Jason who would latch onto your nips as soon as humanly possible like a baby and leave the most insane bruises along your collarbone

Virgin!Jason who cant fucking hold it together while you're bouncing on his cock because he's so sensitive, cumming early because he simply can't control it

Virgin!Jason who cant stop eating your pussy once he discovers how much pleasure you get from it and the surprising amount he gets from it as well

Virgin!Jason who has the most innocent puppy dog eyes looking at you while fucking up into you while his rough and calloused hands run over your nipples, completely in awe of your body

Virgin!Jason who snuggles like a teddy bear after sex because he really is just a giant, 6'2 teddy bear that's never had sex before

[syoddeye]

kinktober - day 15 - jealousy, outdoors

soap x transmasc!reader | 1.3k words cw: slightly mean!Soap, biting, nipple play, fingering, penetrative sex, semi-public sex, italics stan, 1 good boy a/n: the words cunt, cock, and hole are used to describe genitalia of a transmasc reader’s body. reader has a flat chest (can be read as post-top surgery), and brief reference to a hysterectomy. went off list. summary: riling johnny up has fun consequences. banner by @/cafekitsune | kinktober list

Playing with fire. That’s what he whispered into your ear as you paused for a drink five or six songs ago. A big grin on his face as if he wasn’t absolutely seething inside.

Johnny’s always had a flair for the dramatic, but playing with fire? Funny. You’re just dancing.

So what if your jacket is abandoned in your chair? Or that your shirt is unbuttoned to a scandalous degree? That you’re in the arms of another man, a handsome one, spinning like a top across the dancefloor?

It’s a wedding. You like to dance. Why wouldn’t you say anything other than yes to an open hand?

But you feel his eyes leading up to the dip. You know he’s watching when you neck your drink and ditch the glass. And when your partner does tilt you allll the way back, eliciting whoops and applause, you hear his chair scrape the parquet above the noise.

One minute, he’s across the hall; the next, he’s beside you.

“Cuttin’ in.” Johnny announces, voice deceivingly calm. There isn’t a moment to protest before the slowed opening notes of the next song fill the air.

Johnny’s muscles strain under his shirt, flexing as he guides you into a clumsier rendition of a waltz. You gloss over the stretched material to his face, taking in his poorly feigned nonchalance. His focus is cast over your shoulder, fixed on some point, like he’s not even dancing with you at all.

You smile.

It takes a minute for him to notice.

“What’re ye lookin’ at?”

“You’ve got something green on your cheek.” He lifts a hand, but pauses at your bark of laughter. “You’re positively green with envy, John MacTavish.”

Winding him up is dead easy. “Not true.”

“Oh, well, now your ears are turning red, so…”

His cheek puffs out as he works over your teasing, brow dropping into a glare. “Alrigh’, that’s it. Outside.”

Abruptly halting your dance, he marches you through the packed dance floor, right past the amused-looking newlyweds. You dig your heels to delay the delightfully inevitable.

“Price, you’ve got to talk some sense into him.” You half-joke, brushing arms with the groom.

John lifts a brow. “Not getting involved. Not today.”

“Traitor.”

Your host chuckles and shakes his head. “Somewhere out of view this time, yeah?”

Johnny’s smug as he reels you in close. “‘Course, Cap.”

“John—Johnny!” Your protests dissipate into giddy laughter as he jams a hand into your opened shirt. You dizzily look over his shoulder for the hundredth time, and he nips at your jaw.

“Nobody’s gonna see.” he grumbles. 

Probably not. Past the garden and a small field, the two of you are hidden within a copse of trees. Though you no longer see the lights from the wedding, you still hear the music.

Your trousers and pants warm your ankles, and your hole warms two of Johnny’s fingers. He impatiently scissors them open, his hand all the way to his wrist dripping with his work. You brace yourself against the tree at your back, knees almost knocking together with how he makes your legs shake.

He twists a nipple and bites the other, tugging until you squeak. The cool air hurts when he releases it, and his stubbly cheek scratches your chest as he works on sinking his teeth into your flat chest.

“I ken ye wanted this. Dancin’ like ye were. With him.” He mutters, yanking another sound out of you by suddenly stuffing his fingers to the webbing. “Ye wanted my attention? Now ye fuckin’ have it.”

His thumb brushes sparingly over your cock. Avoids it if it can. Part of your milquetoast ‘punishment’. His prep is quick and dirty, fingers pulling out after opening you up just enough. You suck in deep breaths, holding his fixed gaze as he makes short work of his kilt. He frees himself, stroking his length, foreskin sliding back and forth as his jaw works.

Just when you start to relax, he moves. On you in less than a second.

He heaves one of your legs, the hinge of your knee fitting to the one of his arm, and presses in a heartbeat later. It’s a stretch in two ways, and pain bursts through the back of your skull as your head thuds against the street.

“Christ on a–Johnny!” 

He doesn’t stop, cramming himself into your hole, shallowly rocking a few times to fit all the way inside. The slight burn is part of what he wants, the impression he wants to make. You know him well, so you let him have it, showing him the few tears all his pushing brings to your eyes.

The way coos at you is mean, but tinged with an edge lacking any real sharpness. Patronizing, but not cruel. He’d stop if you spoke up, you’re sure, but he’s not completely off base with his accusation. You wanted his attention, and now you have it. All of its inches retract, then shoves back in with a filthy groan in your ear. He steadily picks up the pace, and your fingertips dig deeper into the tree with every thrust.

Your body acclimates quickly, walls adjusting to Johnny’s feverish speed, but the friction you desperately need just isn’t there. Your cock throbs, bouncing some as Johnny fucks you with abandon, knocking you into the tree so hard, you know you’ll be sore in more ways than one tomorrow. All you need is a little push, a little more attention to glide off that cliff. You test letting go of the tree with one hand as he pumps into you, but he clicks his tongue.

“Keep ‘em where they are, and beg.”

“Please,” Shame doesn’t exist between you. Even like this. Especially like this. “Please, Johnny. I’m so, so close.” 

He chuckles, lips curling back into a feral grin. “That so?” 

“Please! Johnny,” your pitch rockets up with a particularly hard thrust. “Need to come, sorry for–for–”

“Actin’ out?”

“Yeah, yeah, acting out. Oh god, please, I just, oh–fuck!”

His free hand drops unceremoniously between you, finds your cock, and starts stroking you in time with his hips. His fingers glide along the tender underside, thumb toying with its tip. Every touch shoots an electric buzz from your core, sending warmth down your nerve endings. The trees blur together behind Johnny, and the night air turns thin. Your breath hitches and hitches, the pressure of your oncoming orgasm pushing the air out of you in full-body shivers.

Before they can escape, he pulls his hand away, swiftly smothering them with slick fingers. You watch Johnny grit his teeth, chasing down his own release with a violent single-mindedness. He uses you, keeping your leg up even as it goes boneless, and frees your mouth to plant a palm beside your head. He pistons into you ruthlessly and ignores your babbling about it being too much.

When his orgasm hits, his eyes roll back, and a stream of hissed curses spew out of his mouth as his rhythm breaks into something erratic.

Johnny floods your cunt, shuddering as his cum pumps into you, only withdrawing briefly to guide what’s escaped back in. He presses in as deep as he can, letting go of your leg, making it nice and snug. He lazily mouths your neck, murmuring how you make him mad, how much he loves it. His thumb pets over the long, vertical scar beneath your belly, hidden beneath your happy trail. 

You weakly squeeze him as soon as the phosphenes clear, and your soul reattaches to your body.

“Fuck, that’s–that’s a good–” His hoarse praise stops with a bite of his tongue, but when you meet eyes, he laughs breathlessly and lets it go. “That’s a good boy. Learned yer lesson?”

You wet your lips, finally prying your hands off of the tree. Your fingertips sting as you start to button your shirt haphazardly. “Yeah, sure. I’ll never try to make you jealous again.”

Johnny’s smirk turns knowing when he pulls out, head tilting to watch his cum leak onto your thigh. “It’s a good thing I’m no’ the jealous type.” By the time you return to the wedding hall, Johnny’s arm is tucked around you for support, and the party’s in full swing. Kyle catches your eye across the venue and shoots a wink. You lift your bottle and mouth, thanks for the assist.

[dimlylittorch]

18+ MDNI

Club owner!John Price x transmasc!chubby!sweetheart!innocent!reader

I’m just craving to write something so self serving y’all- very much my kind of thing i like to read so I hope someone else might enjoy it too💀

My Masterlist🌿

It wasn’t your first time in a club, of course. You went once with one of your college clubs, so that totally counts right? Then again, that was just a basic campus dive bar. This place was a little more high end, but it came with great reviews.

You decided to dress casually- I mean it was basically a bar with extra add ons right? Who wouldn’t dress comfortably? Slipping into a slightly baggy Hawaiian shirt and some solid colored shorts to accommodate, you walked in front of your bathroom mirror and looked yourself over. A usual outfit for you, but you picked one of your prettier ones for the benefit of the doubt. A tan colored shirt with a dark red and green rose pattern on it.. who wouldn’t think it’s cute? And doesn’t everyone love to feel like they’re on vacation when at a bar? It was simple, really. You couldn’t see any reason not to wear it.

That is until you walk into the place.

Women wearing nice dresses, some men in suits.. you stuck out like a sore thumb. You already feel the embarrassment rising in your cheeks as you start to get stares, but you quickly calm yourself. Standing out is good. If they’re staring for that long, they must like my outfit, right? Maybe someone will ask me where I got it- which leads to a conversation, which leads to no more embarrassment. Everything’s fine.

You smiled softly to yourself as you eased your anxious thoughts, walking up to the bar and leaning over it a little rather than sitting at a stool.

“Could I just get an ice water please?” You ask sweetly with a smile to the bartender, earning you a questioning look. Your brain quickly tries to rationalize why he looked at you that way- many people didn’t order water a lot so he didn’t know what kind of glass to put it in? “You can just put it in a whiskey glass- makes me feel fancy” you beam at him. Of course, the bartender still was confused, but you didn’t pay any mind. You didn’t think he had any reason to he confused, so you didn’t worry about it.

Once you get your water, rather than sitting at a table you start to make your rounds, gently wandering around the club, lots of eyes on you, which you ignore with a smile to every persons gaze you catch. As you wander, you reach the more strip club-esque area, dancers on stage and walking around with lots of people sitting and watching. Men cheering and women laughing. You decide to grab a seat right in front of the stage, pulling out your wallet and pulling out the few bills you had. It wasn’t much, but it seemed rude to not tip the dancers.

The next performance starts and a woman starts her dance in front of you, meeting your gaze once or twice. You weren’t like the usual customer, not eye fucking her and practically salivating in your seat. You were actually watching her dancing, enjoying the performance like most people should. At the end of the routine, most people start throwing bills at her on stage, which to you seemed a little rude. You gently stand from your seat, leaning forward and offering her your money instead, earning you points and laughs from most of the other patrons.

“You did really well” you say softly with a genuine smile as she takes the money before you sit back down meekly, knowing everyone was making comments about you.

That was definitely a new experience for her, not often being treated with respect at her night job. She heads to the back after her performance, seeing her boss walking by.

“How did tonight go?” He asks with a cigar hanging from his lips.

“Not too bad. Made a decent amount.” She sighs softly. “The funniest thing though- there’s some kid out there, being all sweet and handing me the money.” She chuckles. “Poor thing got laughed at pretty hard.” She adds before she heads down the hallway.

John’s ears perk up at her words, his eyes turning towards the door that leads to the audience. He decides to peek out into the crowd, and his eyes land on a young man in a Hawaiian shirt, slipping his wallet into his pocket before he stands up from his seat and starts to leave the performance area. John’s curiosity is peaked. How is it that a sweet looking kid like that managed to wander into his club?

As you leave the performance area, you start to turn back towards the bar area, when you hear a voice behind you.

“Didn’t like the performance enough to stay?” A rough voice speaks from behind you. You quickly turn around, looking up at a tall man in a dark suit with a white button down, a few of the buttons undone so you could see some of his chest hair peeking out. He was definitely older- but also definitely attractive. Your eyes widen at his words, finally registering what he said.

“No! No- no, not at all” you ramble out quickly. “It was great- I just-“ you chuckle, clearly anxious about saying the wrong thing. He was pretty intimidating to look at. “I ran out of cash. And I didn’t want to not tip the next performers.” You add softly.

John smirks at how anxious you are around him, fully prepared to attempt to make you flustered. “Or maybe you just don’t like men.” He smirks as he gestures to the next performance, a male dancer taking the stage this time. He watches your eyes widen as your gaze catches the dancer, your cheeks heating up ever so slightly before you look away shyly.

“I-“ you start to whisper, but he quickly cuts you off.

“You like how he looks, hm?” He murmurs amusedly. “His name is Soap. Why don’t you come sit with me. We can watch him together.” He offers with a smirk.

Your cheeks are already red from standing in front of one of the most attractive men you’ve seen in a while- but the thought of watching a strip show with him? Jesus. How could you say no?

“Alright” you say softly, shyly following him to a nicer table in what seemed to be the V.I.P section. You set your glass of ice water on the table, glancing around absentmindedly before you look up to him. “Are there any coasters?” Your soft voice speaks.

John can’t help but let out a soft chuckle at your words, leaning back in the booth and raising his arms over the back of it.

“No coasters.” He murmurs. It occurs to him that I probably have no idea who he is. No idea that he owns this club. It’s the innocence as a whole that intrigues him.. the genuine smile, casual clothing.

“Right” you whisper softly, taking the glass off of the table and holding it on your lap, much to his amusement. As he watches the dancer on stage, you carefully glance over his form, taking him in. He was tall, well built, but not too muscular. He had a pouch on his stomach area, but who doesn’t love a dad bod? He looks.. good. Really good. Sure, plenty of guys are attractive, but he just seems to have all of the good qualities mixed into one man. Strong, yet soft, intimidating but not scary. You felt safe with him, surprisingly.

“You’re new here.” He murmurs as he looks across the crowd, paying attention to the performance, as if making sure the routine is going as it should. “Yeah.” You say softly as you sip your water. “I don’t drink much.” You add quietly.

“But you’re here?” He questions as he looks at you, his eyebrow raising slightly. “Forgive me for wanting to adventure out a little.” You chuckle softly. “It seemed.. nice. The ratings were good.” As he’s about to reply, a round of applause starts off, Soap’s routine having ended. You quickly set your glass in between your legs, clapping as you look towards the stage with a smile.

“He did really well” you smile at John when you glance over at him. John smirks slightly when he sees your smile, and he reaches over, grabbing the glass from in between your legs and holding it.

“Wouldn’t want your thighs to get cold, love.” He murmurs with a small smirk as he looks off towards Soap. Before you can reply, the stage is set for a new performance, and a freshly dressed Soap approaches the booth.

“How’d I do, sir?” He grins down at John.

“As good as ever” he smirks as he gestures to me. “Soap, this is my new friend..?”

“Y/n” you say with a sweet smile towards Soap. It’s a little awkward considering you were just watching him grind against a stage. “You’re a really good dancer”

Soap grins and puffs out his chest slightly with a smirk. “I’m a good dancer in private too, if you ever happen to be interested” he winks.

“Oh buzz off Johnny. I’m sure there are plenty of people waiting for you back stage.” John scoffs.

Your cheeks redden slightly, a shy chuckle slipping past your lips, making John glance over at you.

“Unless you’re interested, love.” He murmurs with a curious gaze.

Your eyes meet his and they widen slightly. “No! No-“ you say quickly. “I mean- I’m flattered- you’re- you’re very pretty” I chuckle shyly as your eyes meet Soap’s. You see grins starting to form on both of their faces, and your cheeks heat up further. “I- um” you stutter. “Thank you for the offer” you finally manage to spit out.

Both of the men start to chuckle amongst themselves, Soap leaning over the table to get a better look at you.

“Pretty boy, you’re allowed to say yes” he smirks. “Unless I’m not your type..” he fake pouts a little.

As he leans closer, your hearts speeds up a little. “You are” you whisper softly. “I’m just.. probably not a good candidate” you murmur with an apologetic smile.

Soap offers a small smile, standing back up with a nod. “No worries, pretty boy. I’m always around if you change your mind” he winks before he pats John’s shoulder, then heading off backstage.

John smirks as he sees your reddened cheeks, his gaze affectionate. “Not a good candidate, eh?”

You sigh softly, taking a sip of water. “Trans” you murmur without much more explanation. “By the time I explain it to people, the mood is ruined.”

“You kidding?” I laughs. “Soap will fuck just about anything. No need to be worried about that in here” he murmurs as he finishes his glass of whiskey. “Cmon. I’m taking you back” he says as he stands up, holding out his hand.

You glance at his outstretched hand, blinking a little in confusion. After a few moments you take it, standing up and letting him lead you backstage.

tips and requests are open :D

haven’t been on my writing game lately so i’m sorry if this wasn’t that great!

[gonzo-rella]

Headcanons: Being Wallace Wells' Trans Boyfriend

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

EDIT: Although this fic was written with a more binary trans reader in mind, I'm hoping this fic will also be suitable for AFAB nonbinary people who are masc or male adjacent, which is where I might be at. I'm currently working dating hcs for Wallace with a nonbinary reader (which will be suitable for both AFAB and AMAB readers).

Relationship(s): Wallace Wells x transmasc!reader (romantic)

Warnings/info: Trans typical stuff, like dysphoria, transphobia etc. etc., sexual remarks, he/him pronouns for reader, headcanons were written in one sitting, when I was feeling not great. (Let me know if I need to add any)

(A/N: I've been reading a lot of Succession fics over the last few days. Last night I read a Roman Roy fic and for some reason it gave me this overpowering wave of dysphoria that I still have yet to fully recover from. Annoyingly, I have yet to actually watch Succession so this could have been avoided; I just think Kieran Culkin's hot and very gender so I couldn't resist pretending that someone with his face was my boyfriend. Reading about Roman made me think 'oh shit. Maybe I'm a flawed and pathetic little guy on the inside. But I just look like a woman who likes to kiss women and everyone treats me like a girl and uses my girl name and girl pronouns and that feels super gross and makes me want to live in a hole. Now I'm going to feel bad about that for the next few days.' So, yeah, I'm having another transmasc crisis that I'm using fanfiction to get me through. I figured Kieran Culkin started this, so I might as well write something featuring a character of his that I can actually write for. This is a self-indulgent and self-explorative treat for myself, but I hope that transmasc readers can enjoy this, too. If you'd like more Wallace stuff, trans stuff or Wallace AND trans stuff, feel free to send in a request. I really want to provide more fics for transmasc readers because you guys are super underrepresented (and, y'know, Papa Gonzo-rella wants to explore his gender a little more). Also, I swear that I will get around to watching Succession, and I more than likely will end up writing for it when I do.)

Respectfully, Wallace does not give a shit that you’re trans.

Of course, he doesn’t flat-out ignore it, because it’s part of who you are, but it isn’t an obstacle in your relationship by any means, and it doesn’t bother him in the slightest.

If you’re feeling dysphoric and/or otherwise insecure about yourself, he’ll pinch your cheeks and tell you how handsome and sexy you are.

If you’re feeling especially bad, like ‘not getting out of bed and hiding from the world’ bad, he’ll keep you company and say what he can to reassure you.

Being mushy and sincere truly isn’t his thing, so whatever he says will sound either slightly insensitive (but still pretty sensitive as far as Wallace goes), facetious or like he wants you to get over how you’re feeling so he can fuck you.

But, he genuinely doesn’t want you to feel bad and you can tell he cares, because otherwise he wouldn’t be there for you when you're feeling your worst.

Wallace is very affirming, but in his own Wallace way.

He lovingly refers to you as his lameass boyfriend.

If Scott ever compliments you about anything, Wallace will call him gay.

He will shout ‘gay’, like the Senor Chang meme.

"Hey, man, I like your shirt-"

"Ha, Scott's gay!"

"I-I'm not gay! I just like his shirt."

"What's wrong with being gay, Scott?"

"Nothing! There's nothing wrong with being gay!"

"You really need to work on your internalised homophobia, Scott. To think, my gay lover and I share a bed with a bigot."

If you’re doing anything that he knows will make you dysphoric or exacerbate your dysphoria (for example, scrolling through social media and looking at cis dudes that give you gender envy) he’ll shut it down.

Using the aforementioned example, he’ll snatch your phone off you and close the app, saying: “Nope. Make better decisions.”

And, while you’d initially be annoyed at him for grabbing your phone, you will appreciate it in the long run.

If you have testosterone shots but you’re not a fan of doing them yourself, he’ll begrudgingly help you with them.

He will make a very Wallace comment, though

“Stabbing? I didn’t know you were that kinky.”

If anyone’s a dick to you about being trans, Wallace is always ready to go with a snide remark about the other person, because of all the things you could possibly mock his lameass boyfriend for, being trans is at the bottom of that list.

(He should know, as the person who makes fun of you the most.)

Also, he cares about you very, very much and he doesn't want people being transphobic to his boyfriend.

If you’re cool with it, he will make trans jokes, but nothing ‘attack helicopter’ or ‘attack helicopter’ adjacent, because he’s too clever for that and he can come up with better material that isn’t just derivative, transphobic garbage.

If you get your period and it makes you at all dysphoric, be prepared for this exchange:

“Don’t worry. Scott pissed blood last month and cried about it and he’s still a man.”

“Did-did he go to the doctor?”

“I don’t know. He seems fine now, though.”

If you still have boobs and don’t mind them being touched or otherwise acknowledged, he will use them like a pillow.

If you decide to get top surgery, he will make the following request:

“Well, if you’re not using them, can I have them? I need a pillow that Scott won’t steal. And, he wouldn’t steal your tits, because he knows I’d call him gay for it.”

“Why are you like this, Wallace?”

“Selfish.”

Being trans doesn’t make your relationship much different from any of Wallace’s other relationships.

You’re just, for better or worse, another one of Wallace’s boyfriends.

[buttdumplin]

John helps you with your pussy nukes.

Part 3 of Gender-affirming Price, Part 1, Part 2

I wrote this after having my own little pity party about my meds but then I was like, you know what? Price would never

cw: Price x transmasc!reader, established relationship, medical aspects of transitioning, reader's genitals referred to as "pussy" and "cock"

word count: 732

You’ve been at it for a while, sweaty and angry from so many failed attempts. You’ve tried squatting, you’ve tried laying on your back, you’ve tried laying on your side, and still you can’t seem to be able to get the right angle. Having to take these vaginal estrogen tablets is already a pain in sticking to the schedule and going out to get them and just knowing that it’s something you’ll have to stick to for the foreseeable future. All the scraping and poking and prodding only makes things worse. You know you need your dose tonight, but at this point your hands are too slippery from sweat to hold onto the tiny applicator. And you’re far too angry to trust the force of your hands. You have to ask John for help. 

John knows about these tablets. You explained early on what they were and what you needed them for. He has, however, never seen the actual application. Including him into your testosterone routine has been a dream. It’s reassured you both about your connection. Your weekly shots have turned into quiet comfort, the intimidating nature of the injections soothed by John’s care. For him, they’ve become moments of worship, where he can demonstrate his love for every part of you, just as you are. It’s really solidified for you how he sees you. You know you shouldn’t worry about the tablet, and you try to hold onto that as you call him to the bedroom. 

He’s at the door in seconds, his face shifting from slight concern to unfiltered delight. Leaning against the doorframe, he takes in the sight of you on the bed, bare from the waist down, legs wide open and a bit out of breath. 

“Is this for me?” his voice a rumble.

You huff and lift the little pink applicator straight into the air so he can see it, “I keep scraping myself and I can’t get deep enough.”

“I’ve never had that issue.”

“Nevermind,” you start to rise, but he’s easing you back with a gentle laugh.

“Give it here.”

You eye him skeptically, “It has to sit to dissolve. No funny business.”

“No funny business,” he swears. 

A moment later, you’re handing him the applicator, opening your legs further. It looks so small in his hand, barely a fraction of the size of his fingers. Damn. John catches your stare and wiggles his fingers, proud of himself. You smile back at him, rolling your eyes, and the world feels right again. He positions himself between your legs, muscle memory guiding him. Still, he can see your hands pushing down against your tummy, a motion he’s seen you make when you’re trying to self-soothe. 

“Countdown or surprise?” he presses a chaste kiss to your inner thigh, not moving until he feels you relax into the sheets.

“Countdown, please.” 

His hands move quickly and easily, no corrections or suggestions needed. You smile down at him as he removes the applicator, and it helps him breathe again. As skilled as he is, as confident as he is when it comes to knowing your body, there’s still always the chance he might hurt you. John lays his head against your thigh in relief. Your hand through his hair has his eyes fluttering closed, nuzzling further into the softness of your skin.

Before you can inhale to thank him, he surges up and wraps his lips around your tdick in a kiss, giving a pleased hum.

“JONATHAN.”

He lifts his head with a soft pop, eyes wide in mock shock.

“You said no pussy. Fine. Didn’t say anything about this sweet little cock.”

Your legs snap closed, and he crawls on top of you. To think you were concerned about this man. You should have known better. John’s grin is nothing short of devilish as he slowly eases his weight onto you. Using the weighted blanket approach will earn him some points and he knows it. You cradle his head as he buries his face into your neck, gratitude washing over you. The sheer luck of finding the man, of him loving you, will never stop astonishing you. You’re melting into the quiet of the moment when he shifts.

“John. Are you hard right now?”

“How could I not be? With such a gorgeous boy in my arms,” he speaks into skin.

You really should have known better.

AN: Don't let fucking ANYBODY make you feel bad about what you have to do to keep yourself physically and mentally healthy. Everyone's gender journey looks different.

The tablets referred to here are vaginal estrogen tablets. HRT will often cause atrophy in your genitals, so depending on what you want, you might have to take an additional set of hormones for the desired result. Your body and intimacy are yours, and there is no baseline requirement for what transness is. I love yall <3

[pfhwrittes]

the way i let out the most wistful sigh at the thought of kyle "gaz" garrick tracing the marks on his partner's skin from where his binder had dug into his shoulders.

pairing: kyle "gaz" garrick x transmasc!reader

tags/warnings: fluff, transmasc!reader, fat!reader, non-sexual nudity, pet names (babe).

word count: 290 words.

AN: some unedited fluffy stuff because i'm feeling some kind of way apparently. reader is transmasc (he/him pronouns) and fat in this.

please do not like and/or reblog my writing if you're under the age of 18, using a blank blog, or have failed to put an indication of your age (e.g 30s, '02 baby, old enough to remember blockbuster) in your bio or pinned post!

kyle loves it when you're comfortable enough to pull off your binder and sit for a moment with your back to him on the bed, gloriously topless, your arms held high above your head as you stretch luxuriously.

he drinks in the shape of your back, the plushness of the rolls on your side, the faint stretch marks that peek out over the waistband of your boxers. all his to admire, to covet, to love.

you grunt and kyle hears a faint pop from your shoulder as you slowly lower your arms back down.

"everything okay, babe?"

you hum noncommittally and rub at the groove left in your skin on your shoulder, those clever fingers kyle loves so much soothing the ache left behind by hours of wearing constricting fabric.

theres a sound of shuffling fabric and kyle's low gentle voice comes from behind you.

"alright if i touch you?"

kyle waits patiently. he knows that sometimes you can't stand his palms on your naked skin, that sometimes you need space and simon's secondhand hoodie to settle into instead.

something soft and wonderful fills his chest when nod once and your shoulders relax just a fraction. just for him.

kyle places both hands on your upper arms and squeezes the softness and muscle he finds there gently before arching his thumbs out to sweep gentle lines over tender skin.

your reward is a gentle kiss to the nape of your neck. kyle's reward is the way you sigh like you've stepped under the spray of a scaldingly hot shower or sunk into a steaming bath.

there's another gentle kiss to the back of your neck and you hum happily, the ache of the day already fading under kyle's loving hands.

[americanwh0rerstory]

pretty boy [tate langdon]

mlm!Tate x trans!reader (FTM)

SUMMARY: reader is feeling dysphoric for being trans but closeted so tate makes them feel better

CONTENT WARNING: TATE IS ALIVE. implied sex, vulgar language, lots and lots of comforting

A/N: this is my first time EVER writing male pov, and any trans media. i hope this was as good as expected. any feedback in appreciated <3

VULGAR LANGUAGE AND REFERENCES TO SEX BELOW

being closeted sucked. constantly being deadnamed, the pronouns, the feminine clothing you had to wear. it all filled you with dread, making you feel even more dysphoric than you already were

fortunately you had tate now. your wonderful boyfriend. for the first time you had some sort of validation: he’d let you wear his clothes, he’d call you by your name, he’d use he/him pronouns on you. it was perfect.

“c’mon, just cause they’re all assholes don’t mean you ain’t a boy” tate reassured you, letting you cry into his chest after a gruelling day at school. “you’re still my boy. so so handsome” he murmurs into your hair, kissing your forehead

however tate was never good at comfort, usually opting for sex as a de-stresser for you and praising you the whole time. so that’s what he did. he didn’t know how to comfort you well, so he just opted for the option that he knew would make you feel better (in one way or another)

“pretty boy, all mine” he murmurs as he spoons you from behind, cuddling you after sex. you both lay silently cuddling into one another until you asked a question that had been bugging you for a while

“tate, why do you always fuck my ass?” you asked, wondering why he had never done any other hole of yours

“guys don’t have pussy, thought it would make you feel better if i fucked you like a guy” he mumbled. his eyes shut as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, planting a soft kiss to the skin beneath his lips

“you’re so handsome” he mumbled softly into your flesh, nipping at it and leaving small red marks on your skin. he had one hand wrapped around your side, idly tracing small circles on your hip as you cuddled; his other hand was resting on your thigh, occasionally giving a small squeeze to the sensitive flesh

“feel any better?” he asked after 40 minutes of silence passed, but you didn’t reply. he smiled softly to himself, noticing how you were sleeping beside him.

“even prettier when you sleep” he muttered to nobody in particular, looking down at you with eyes full of adoration

[lowkeyrobin]

could you write a walker x transmasc!reader oneshot? if not, that is fine aswell! - 🗡️

of course I could!! just beware any random shit because I don't know much about being transmasc and I did a lot of research on reddit and tiktok for this for like mannerisms ans shit ; thanks for requesting and I hope you enjoy! ; for any regulars on my blog, ik I've enforced the gn reader only thing but I updated my rules list, where I'll only do trans masc/fem readers on request. that doesn't mean request a thing and add one of those solely for a set of he/him or she/her pronouns though. ; post writing robin and this was actually so fun to write LMAO I hope you like this even tho it's so short

WALKER SCOBELL ; the boys

summary ; youre transmasc and properly come out to walker and co + some stupid shit for two parts

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; idk shit about awards shows + imagine middle school auditorium seats for the first part

word count ; 723

masterlist

You, Aryan, Walker, and Leah sit in the audience at the 2025 Emmy Awards, chatting before the cameras turned on to watch the proper show begin. You and Walker sit together, with Aryan and Leah right behind you. The thick, tan, plastic chairs were going to do a number on your ass later. For a million-dollar award show you'd think they would upgrade the seat situation a little bit.

Leah and Aryan sit forward in their seats, holding a conversation with you and Walker, both turned around in yours.

"No, and like, you will not be calling me that, thank you!" You laugh and smile, "If you get your grimy hands on my legal name I will actually throw myself away. I am a man!"

"Wait, what?" Walker questions, eyebrows furrowed. "Legal name?"

"I changed my name" You clarify. "Cause like..." You look yourself up and down, hands following your gaze. "Y'know?"

Walker blinks, pushing his blonde curls away from his face. "Wait... you're trans?"

You nod, a playful yet unbelievable smile on your face. "How did you not know?"

"Even I knew" Leah comments, glancing at Aryan, who nods in agreement.

"I thought it was kinda obvious." You chuckle, seeing his surprised reaction. "I had to keep correcting people about my name like, a million times"

"I never knew you had another name? I thought it was always Y/n!"

"This is going on my story"

"Which one?"

"The Boys"

Walker smiles, his right arm slung over your shoulders as he watches you caption and post the picture you'd just taken with him on your public Snapchat story. It was titled The Boys, meant for you and all your close friends.

He was glad to see that you considered him one of your close friends, but also on such a deep level, though it was just a title to you. He saw the deeper meaning that you didn't. Like an over analyzing reader to a writer. He was happy you also considered yourself a boy, that you could happily parade that around and feel comfortable with your identity. He truly couldn't be more proud to see you happy and smiling in this moment.

You look back up at him, a cheesy smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"What's that look for?" You ask, a little confused.

"Nothing" He replies, patting your right shoulder blade as he moves his arm around a bit. "We should definitely make a playlist and put it on your story for people to listen to" He suggests with a slight shrug.

"For what?" You ask again, a little puzzled as to where this was going."

"Just cause"

"Okay, Mr.-Won't-Explain-Shit-Scobell"

"You just went on a five minute tangent trying to avoid the word homophobia"

"I was testing the waters with your gaydar, cause apparently it was broken the first time"

"I don't have a gaydar! I'm just, like, here! I'm just a guy"

"Look at this handsome man! Dude, wear purple more, I'm so serious"

"Okay, I see you, Y/n!"

"Fix your tie!"

"I'm trying, I'm still learning! I didn't have this chapter of boyhood"

"Here-" The blonde mumbles, reaching forward to fix your black tie.

You tilt your chin up, giving him easy access to the cloth wrapped around your neck. Leah and Aryan watch, smug looks on their faces.

You send them a glare, trying not to alert Walker to it. He quickly reties your tie, sending you a thumbs up as he backs away. You quickly thank him, a warmth heating up your cheeks, physically unnoticeable.

"Walker, you look like a divorce lawyer." You comment, stuffing your hands in your purple pockets.

The blonde dramatically scoffs, a hand rested on his heart. "You're so mean to me! You're not welcome to the next boys sleepover"

"I don't wanna be a part of that dorky shit anyways"

"Okay, meanie"

"What are you, twelve?"

"...Did you just attempt to quote me?"

You shrug with a side nod.

Leah speaks for you, "Yeah, he did"

"How do you know?"

"He told us that he was gonna try and quote you at least once today" She chuckles.

The three look back at you, lining your jawline with your finger, clearly sucking up your tongue.

"Dude, stop mewing, we have to go out there in like, a minute"

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❝ beautiful (darling) ❞

slashers dating drabble | transmasc!reader | comfort/fluff | graphic description of violence | mentions/implied transphobia (minor) | minor mention of SH in Amanda Y.'s section

Amanda Young | Brahms Heelshire | Corey Cunningham | OG!Michael Myers | RZ!Michael Myers | poly!Ghostface (Stu Macher, Billy Loomis) | Sinclair brothers

Amanda Young (Saw) —

She would do anything to ensure that you are happy and healthy.

Even if it means she has to stare you down with her arms crossed and her brow arched as you meekly confess that you'd forgotten to fulfil your daily needs.

Your girlfriend knows how damaging it is to be looked at with disgust by close-minded individuals - as an ex-addict and ex-convict she knows how dark your mind can become when the world seemingly turns its back on you. She may not understand the struggle you face as a trans person but she is SO proud of you for having made it this far.

If you deny these words of admiration, she will cup your face and repeat them.

Resist more and she will whisper praises on your skin as she trails kisses anywhere she can. She loves you, she will not give you room to degrade the person she loves.

Oh! Amanda adores wearing matching pieces with you. She's not interested in full-on "couple outfits" (if you beg, maybe she'll relent...maybe) but matching earrings, necklaces, rings? She loves it. It soothes her possessive side.

Speaking of her possessiveness, she's not a jealous person...at least that is what she tells herself.

Amanda won't ever turn her anger on you when someone shows interest in you, she knows it isn't your fault that someone doesn't understand what "taken" means.

However, this does little to stop her from placing her chin on your shoulder, wrapping her arms around your waist and nuzzling your neck as she regards the "threat" with an unimpressed look.

"Whose this, baby?" "Oh, this is-" she gasps and you look as she points out something in the distance. "Look at that! Come on, looks fun!"

Please reassure her though, she acts tough but she is just a person underneath all that bloodshed.

Your girlfriend loves to embrace you, Little Spoon or Big Spoon matters not.

All-in-all, she is unapologetically touching you any chance she gets.

If someone is an asshole to you, you frankly start worrying about what dirt Amanda is going to find out about them and use against them in their game. You don't need to worry about her sketching new torture devices, disappearing in the middle of the night, or that suspicious duffel bag she comes back with that makes a loud CLANK! sound when she places it on the floor. No, really, don't worry.

When you see the asshole's face and name appear on the news because of their gruesome death, you simply continue to channel surf while Amanda chews on her lower lip, tucked under your arm and looking so smug.

If your cologne starts running out faster you look to your girlfriend - she quite literally smells like the evidence but she will deny, deny, deny.

Self-defense lessons. No questions asked, no rebuttal or refute. She will be more at peace knowing you can protect yourself.

If you decide to help her by "participating" in a game with other people, her eyes will be glued to the camera feed. She is pacing as thousands of "what if's" run through her mind. They dissipate as you turn your head to a hidden camera and smile at her before you continue your performance of distress and anxiety. She falls deeper in love with you (expect the most passionate kiss of your life - no, she won't care if you're covered in blood).

[CHEST BINDING] Amanda reminds you to take a break, and stretch your back and even offers to massage you. She will splurge on a better-quality binder when yours starts looking worse for wear.

[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES, ADDICTION implied] She won't be present while you administer the shot, she will prepare band-aids, praises and kisses once you're done.

[SELF-HARM mentioned] If you struggle with self-harm, she won't start asking "how's" or "why's". Unlike her mentor, she knows how tough this can be, she won't punish or mock you for it. She will help you through it, every step of the way.

Brahms Heelshire (The Boy) —

This boy is more perceptive than most give him credit for.

"(Y/N), feeling more darling today?" "...Yeah, wait, how'd you-"

He categorizes sliding around the gender spectrum as "pretty" (fem), "darling" (gn), and "handsome" (masc). You usually don't even have to tell him about how you're presenting/feeling today, he gets it right.

Your boyfriend is a brat but he isn't a useless brat. Contrary to popular belief, he can cook (snacks) and take care of himself just fine. He just leans on you more because...he's a brat.

This is hyper-specific, but Brahms knows how frustrating it feels to look into a mirror and see someone that isn't...you.

So he makes you a mask. It's how he copes and he figured it could help you too. If you like them he'd be more than happy to make you more.

Arts and craft master! Did you see his room? He probably kept himself busy with all sorts of hobbies, so he definitely enjoys handmaking your gifts.

Oh, how he loves to be held by you. He enjoys being enveloped completely, it makes him feel so small and safe.

Loves everything about you. Your voice makes the thoughts in his head quiet to a whisper - the power you have on this man.

So he does not understand why some people are abhorrent when they talk to you.

Yes, the two of you are more or less left alone in the Heelshire Manor/estate. Malcolm occasionally drops by with groceries only to scurry off after some mild-mannered conversation because he doesn't want the ghost of a child to chase him off. But, there's only so much you can do to maintain such a grand building and its surrounding land.

So, you have to call some help once in a while to uphold the maintenance. Most of the time, the local hire are sweet, they enjoy helping you since they're usually served cold drinks and snacks after. The handful of assholes, however, are...assholes.

Brahms seethes as he grits his teeth so hard his jaw aches, you glance at the wall he hides behind as you faintly hear his breathing but just got the interaction over and done with.

Unlike the other slashers in this list, he is at the most disadvantage when it comes to enacting justice but by god, he will try. For you? He'd do anything.

You let out a noise of confusion when Brahms murmurs about you going to the local art supply shop to get him something. "You want me to go to town?" he nods, his curls tickling your neck and shoulder. As you attempt to turn to face him, Brahms lets out a whine - high and pouty. "I've been good!" you sigh, patting his arm that was around your waist. "Alright, Brahmsy, alright".

Unbeknownst to you, Brahms had messaged the transphobic asshole whilst pretending to be you and told them something had happened to whatever it was they worked on while they were here. He'd given you an alibi, people saw you in town after all so he was prepared to have a "talk" with the repairman.

He also does not worry much about you going to the art supply shop as the woman who owns it is a kind old lady whom he sometimes makes you send his crafts - under the guise that you made them, of course.

You returned home with new art supplies in your hand, at ease and humming from the pleasant walk from the gates to the manor.

Brahms stands over a dead body on the back patio, his mask covered in blood splatters as he held an antique ashtray in his hand.

"(Y/N)!" he cheers, walking over the man's barely-there skull before he embraces you.

He'd kill for you but the mess is yours to clean. Your boyfriend isn't perfect.

He'll make you something sweet to drink while you hose down the gore, does that help? Okay, okay, fine, he'll bury the body too.

[CHEST BINDING] He knows when your body has had enough. No, he does not know the appropriate time frame you are supposed to have whilst wearing a binder - he just knows your body so well he knows when it's done for the day. He'll run you a hot bath to help your muscles relax.

[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES, BURN SCARS] His arts and crafts hobbies practically made him have surgeon's hands. So if you need him to, he'll administer the shot and it won't hurt, just a pinch he promises. As someone who had to go through a few medical procedures due to his burns, he stays by your side when you have to go through anything remotely medical. By the way, despite how hard it is to get testosterone when you live in the middle of nowhere, don't worry, the Heelshire funds will last Brahms and you ten lifetimes. Enjoy it, it's all for you.

Corey Cunningham (Halloween Ends) —

Corey "Babe, wear my jacket you'll look so handsome" Cunningham.

Oh, how this man dotes over you.

If you open his Notes app, you'll find an entire folder dedicated to you. Inside, your boyfriend has written down every date idea you confessed to wanting (even the TikTok links you'd sent regarding the topic), your favourite and least favourite food (your allergies are bolded and if you're on medication, that is also listed) and other things you weren't even aware he remembered much less keep note off.

It's okay if he doesn't wear a helmet but please wear yours.

Loves, loves, loves going on motorcycle rides with you. Your weight pressed against his, your laughter ringing in his ears, the wind in his hair, your arms wrapped around him, the scenery blurring past - he feels like the two of you are young gods. Eternal and immortal, just like his love for you.

Star-gazing dates! Climbing on rooftops of abandoned buildings to have private moments where you both feel like the only people in the world!

He would have been considered a "Golden Retriever" boyfriend but after his character development, he has turned into a "German Shepherd" boyfriend.

Honestly, he'd love to see anyone try to disrespect you. Their words fizzle out on their tongues when he stands behind you with his eyes so dark they resembled mirrors - just dark pools that only reflect the sorry cunt's expression back at them. They didn't know it just yet but they had just signed their death warrants.

Speaking of his eyes - please remind him to keep eye lubricant on him all the time. He stares at people like an owl, they dry out. Doesn't help that he rides his motorcycle without a helmet. Oh! And pretty please remind him to actually keep track of when he needs to buy new contact lenses, he somehow always disregards his eye health. You're basically the only thing keeping them alive - his optician thanks you.

If you tell him you like the way his jacket looks, how the rings on his fingers give you "gender envy", how good his cologne smells, how his jeans cutting makes him look more masculine - baby, just take it.

Referring to the first point - but yeah, dude, just wear his things if you want, he loves it. If you're not his size, then you best be ready to have him buy and alter things for you.

"You'd look cute wearing my work uniform" You pause from whatever it is you're doing and look at your boyfriend as he works on his motorcycle in your garage, "o...kay...?"

Maybe he just has a thing for you wearing his things...

His bloodlust fluctuates, sometimes he's feeling particularly bloodthirsty and sometimes not so much. What is constant though is the gifts he brings back. Does it count as trophies? Robbery? No idea! But the way your eyes light up when he gives you something makes his heart race.

[CHEST BINDING] This man did his research. He keeps an eye on your breathing when you're wearing a binder, gently reminding you to make sure you did so safely.

[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES] He holds you and will even offer to administer it. He talks while he does so - just to keep your mind off the needle and he places a kiss over your band-aid every time.

Michael Myers (Halloween (1978 - 1982)) —

As predicted, he stares. Sorry, not sorry. That's just how he communicates, through vibes.

In all seriousness though, Michael does "speak" but it's limited to how his eyes narrow, surprisingly sassy eye-rolls, infamous head tilts, sighs, grunts, growls and occasionally...a huff of laughter.

If you attempt to teach him how to sign, he will pick and choose when to use it but your boyfriend keeps himself easy to read for your sake.

Stalking is his love language. Do not attempt to spot him when he doesn't want to be spotted because you won't. He secretly enjoys seeing you pout when you try though, you look so determined.

Your boyfriend won't negotiate on moving so you're going to have to renovate and fix up his childhood home to make it livable- this will be hard as Michael will be hiding in the basement but thankfully, whoever he did kill he managed to make it look like an accident. It made the whole process take longer than it was supposed to though, you sulked by sleeping at a motel and vehemently locking the windows and doors.

He appreciates you, just shows it quietly. The Shape makes sure your windows are locked, doors too, don't want any sickos breaking in. That's his job.

He'll hunt for you too. You coaxed him to stop killing rats to eat them and kudos to you he doesn't eat them anymore. Rats are just as scared of him as most of Haddonfield. If you don't know how to skin and prepare an animal carcass...well, you better start learning.

Oh, by the way, nobody messes with you. Not even the most insufferable, limp-dicked, conservative in Haddonfield and he annoys everyone! But nah, he's tight-lipped when it comes to you.

Everyone who had ever been rude to you...well...they pop up a few weeks later in various states of fucked up.

Your boyfriend does not understand gender conformity, at all. You will catch him wearing a sleeping kaftan around the house, completely at ease with himself. If you paint his nails, he doesn't fuss about the colour. If you decide to dress more feminine one day he'll just look at you and hum in approval - the same reaction if you dress more masculine.

The guy is called The Shape of Haddonfield, truly a frightening but surprisingly gender-neutral title.

So, do not fret, if anybody dares say anything they will rue the day they were born.

[CHEST BINDING] Ah, he makes it known when you've had enough. Michael will simply stand in front of you and point to his chest, a prompt for you to tell him what time you wore it. Then, he'll just stand and stare until you make a move to take it off. Yes, he has scared the shit out of you by popping out of nowhere whilst you were doing chores outside the house - no, he denies ever huffing a breath of amusement (a laugh in Michael's vocabulary) when you blurb out random exclamations and drop whatever it is you were holding.

[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES] He won't administer it. Michael doesn't even like to imagine stabbing you so why would he? So what if it's a needle, he simply refuses to do so. He will instead offer support by placing a hand on your shoulder or knee and if he somehow lost track of time while he was out, he'll return with your favourite snacks (he steals them obviously).

Michael Myers (2007 - 2009) —

Staring but with more...feeling.

Mainly non-verbal but makes communicating easier by signing to you and occasionally whispering.

He is an open book to you in general though so you honestly have no idea why people find him so scary.

Yeah, you have a biased view but how could you not be when your boyfriend showers you with love any chance he gets.

Another arts and crafts lover, his face warms up when you gift him art supplies despite being "expressionless".

He isn't much of a fan of being touched anywhere near his neck or wrists so be wary of that. When he's about to touch you he makes it known by hovering his hand over you. You will need to reassure him he doesn't need to ask for permission every time but he does it anyways.

Aware of his size and strength, finds himself pleased with it despite how hard it is to stalk because he can keep you safe.

Oh, anyone with a shrimp-sized brain is going to have a rough night if they decide to be a dick to you. He will snap their spine over his knee and watch them try to crawl away like the pathetic worm they are.

Your boyfriend is willing to move away from his home once his vengeance is fulfilled.

Roadtrip? Roadtrip!

He is a homebody, if you believe it or not. Michael decorates your home with his artwork and has a good eye for aesthetics.

He wants to dress his beautiful lover (you) if you give him the chance.

Like OG!Michael, he doesn't completely understand why people take gender roles so seriously. Seriously, he can't wrap his mind around it. He honestly finds it all toxic - considering his parents and his sister's shitty boyfriends...why wouldn't he?

He wants you to play with his hair, please play with his hair. He will pass out the minute you do. Big on cuddles, being a Little Spoon is a state of mind not size so please Big Spoon him.

Another stalker, let's just conclude that any variation of Michael Myers just do it because they can. He likes keeping tabs on you is all. When you're working, he tries to keep busy but he just misses you...so don't mind him if you notice him in your peripheral vision whilst working.

[CHEST BINDING] He is good at counting down the minutes in his head. It happens when you're stuck in a mental institution and spend it in partial isolation. So, when he spots you putting on a binder for the day, he starts counting down. Yes, it is accurate and yes, he would prefer if you did take it off once he finishes his countdown - you could seriously hurt your body!

[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES] Curls up behind you, stroking the upper parts of your thighs as he watches you set everything up. He begins humming as you prepare the needle which makes you smile every time.

Billy Looomis & Stu Macher (Scream (1996)) —

Oh boy, it's never a dull day with these two as your boyfriends.

"Black Cat" boyfriend, Billy Loomis and "Doberman" boyfriend, Stu Macher.

Will not elaborate...defeats the purpose of this entire thing if I don't though so fine -

Billy is calm, not calmer than Stu because that's actually quite an easy category to best him in. Billy is calm. He keeps the balance of your relationship. But he is a menace himself.

He stalks and slithers into your room when he pleases, holds you against him when he feels like it - which, by the way, does not mean he'll be mean if you lean against him or touch him, he just won't reciprocate but it is still welcomed. He also has a habit of pushing against your palm when you run your fingers through his hair or stroke his face. See? Black Cat boyfriend.

If you catch him in a bad mood, he can be snarky but Stu came up with the idea of ending every "bitch fight" with an "I love you". It helped a lot.

Your Doberman boyfriend holds you any chance he gets. It's one of the only ways he keeps still. Billy and you have to pin him down between the two of you to have a peaceful cuddle.

Stu is also much more protective/possessive than the two of you combine. His lovers are his alone. He will smile all teeth and gums and make people feel at ease but Stu is one scary man when he notices someone taking an interest in either of you. Billy and you have felt shivers of fear and anticipation down his spine when you see the gears in Stu's brain switch from "Stu" to "Ghostface".

Oh, oh, how sharp their smiles would be if a transphobe fucked around because they will make them find out. Not because they want you to get verbally abused or harassed! God, no!

They want you to watch them murder them. They will ask you to choose how to end them, how to play with them and what pieces should be found last.

Pieces of clothing are always shared, with how often everyone sleeps over it was inevitable. Accessories as well, hell, Stu managed to lose his body wash twice and he's been to both of your houses - it wasn't there either! Stu just buys things in bulk at this point.

Billy is really good at cutting and styling hair. If you ask, he will help you with yours - regardless of what style you want. If your hair texture is different from his own he will research about it to the best of his abilities.

Kisses with them are so messy. They always want to share and always at the same damn time - you get dizzy just trying to keep up in the mess of lips, teeth and tongue.

Stu throws parties, loves showing you off and Billy is there to whisk you upstairs if you get overwhelmed.

Both Ghostfaces have called you before. They tease you with lines like, "You got a boyfriend, handsome?" or "Damn, beautiful, your boyfriends get you all to themselves? Lucky boys"

[CHEST BINDING] "(Y/N)! How long have you been wearing your binder?" Stu calls from his kitchen, returning with a bowl of popcorn once you answered while you lay across Billy's front on the couch. "Been a while, right?" Billy said, a hand coming to rest on your back "Need a break?" Stu makes a noise of agreement as he lifts your legs and places them on his lap. "Want me to help, baby?" Stu asks.

[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES] Billy helps you with administering the shot while Stu holds you, sometimes switching around. Stu has accidentally stabbed himself with the needle - he apologized profusely as Billy tells him he's contaminated the entire thing (you roll your eyes fondly at your boyfriends, Ghostface looks anything but scary when the two of them are squabbling on the bathroom floor).

Beauregard "Bo" Sinclair (House of Wax) —

I need to get this off my chest, Bo thinks hats are a staple of masculinity...close second are suits and ties, and cars come in third.

He gifts you hats. His favourite was the cowboy hat a victim no longer needed. While placing it on your head he made an obligatory sex joke, it was right there you can't possibly expect him not to.

Bo prefers for you not to make yourself known to victims, he knows you can handle yourself, he just worries.

That and he gets pissed when someone flirts with you. He gets even more pissed when they outright disrespect your identity and labels you as "weird".

He won't even pretend to feel sorry when Vincent questions where their bodies are while Lester grimaces when he sees their state.

If you're someone with long hair please be aware that Bo's eyes will shift to your wrists every so often if there are hairbands around them once he spots it. Anything that is too "snug" around your wrist will make Bo feel uneasy, he will ask you to take it off in an uncharacteristically soft tone that soon turns snappy if you attempt to prod.

When you see the marks on your boyfriend's wrists and/or find his baby seat you'll understand why.

Though he's a hardass to his brothers, he feels so much relief in knowing they love and trusts you just as much as he does.

Touchy - PDA hardly bothers him so why should he hold himself back when you're his darling lover.

Likes to tuck his hand in the back pocket of your pants (he pinches when he's feeling playful).

He rambles about cars. One night, as he was working on repairing a car, he rambles and slows to a stop when he feels as though he was talking too much but when you reassure him that you're listening and interested...his cheeks turn red.

Bo cooks. Not frequently, certainly not his usual task either, but if everyone else is busy/tired he rolls his sleeves and makes a classic and feel-good Southern meal.

[CHEST BINDING] Bo finds himself worrying. The heat and humidity probably don't help your case. He tries to convince you to wear tank tops or simply just your binder during hot days. Sometimes he even gruffs out you don't need to wear it at all as there's no one else around and the people that are there are the Sinclairs who know you. He won't push you but reminds you to keep yourself hydrated and not to push it.

[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES] Bo asks if you need help, won't intrude if you say no but he does squeeze in an extra kiss once you're done.

Vincent Sinclair (House of Wax) —

Vincent Sinclair gives me "White Cat" vibes. So regal looking, so calm and so adamant about not being needy when in fact...he is.

Your boyfriend is an artist. You are his muse. Tale as old as time but why fix what's not broken?

Nonverbal and uses sign language or simple gestures to communicate. He is a bit self-conscious of his laughter but oh how you love hearing it. It makes him squirm every time you stare at him with nothing but love in his eyes.

Refuses to have you interact with the victims. He makes sure you stay in his room, safe and sound.

Brat.

He was basically the favourite twin - he can be bratty even if he tries to deny it.

If you say "no" to him he genuinely gets wide-eyed and makes a whining noise. What do you mean you didn't want to stay in his basement to accompany him while he worked? So what if it's sweltering hot out and the basement feels like Hell on earth! Spend time with him!

Baby talk always makes him burst into fits of giggles - you could be as unfunny as a heart attack but the minute you start speaking in baby talk he loses it.

He got anxious at the thought of his brothers not liking you. There's no reason why they would dislike you but he just worries. They love you though and he is so relieved that you get along so well.

Feel free to "paint" his wax figures. If his mask is starting to get uncomfortable or he just felt like he wanted to make a new one, you're free to go crazy on his old one.

Your boyfriend complains about wax clumping his hair. You now make it a habit to either tie it up, using a claw clip to hold it back, or braiding his hair before he toils away in the basement.

Genuinely loves spending time with you, even if you're just chilling adjacently from each other. He made a designated (Y/N) space in the basement where you can do pretty much anything in peace with Vincent nearby.

The victim said what about you? There's no way he will immortalize a transphobe in this town. He burns them alive after he paralyses them from the neck down, relishing in their screams as they turn into nothing but ash.

You notice his hearing is unbalanced/muffled on one side of his face and how he seems as though he anticipates touch all the time on that side. You make sure you're always approaching him on his "good" side - he is eternally thankful.

Total cuddle bug when you two are alone, prefers being the Big Spoon as he tucks his head at the crown of your head. He snores sometimes if he's really tired.

[CHEST BINDING] Vincent educated himself on this topic. Honestly, like Bo, he worries if you overexert yourself with the heat and at one point discusses with you if you'd rather have your chest permanently flat/smaller. He'd need proper equipment but he'd do anything to ensure you're safe and content.

[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES] Parks himself in front of you and holds his hand out. Stares at you while you blink owlishly at him. His eye squishes into a crescent shape as he smiles once you hand over the needle to him. Let him take care of you, you're his darling muse!

Lester Sinclair (House of Wax) —

He's the chaotic "Pitbull" boyfriend!

This sweet lad actually has trouble accepting help. It makes him uncomfortable if he thinks about it too deeply. He just found himself in scenarios where his usefulness was always at the forefront of why he was wanted, it's hard to get out of that mindset.

He loves you for helping him though, just have no idea how to articulate it properly. All blushes, stutters and squirms.

Your boyfriend gets excited when new victims come around, eager to loot through their things. Especially when someone has a similar style as you!

He gets self-conscious of how he smells because of the things he works with so he also loots tons of cologne and body sprays - you two basically have a goddamn Baths & Body Works on your bathroom vanity.

You two make a game of it, changing your scents for the day and deciding if it was shit or decent. Jonesy's vote is heavily influential.

Date nights are heavenly. Lester uses his nicer truck for outings. You two grab a bite and try to find new places to experiment since Ambrose is a ghost town and you two need to experience more than just death. Afterwards, he finds a lookout point and you three (yes, Jonesy follows) pile out to the back and curl up with the radio playing some cheesy country love songs.

If Jonesy is dropped off at the twin's place, the PG ratings climb the ladder.

Lester doesn't consider himself a violent man. He doubts he even wants to be if he is completely honest. But when someone flirts with you he feels this unbridled rage rise to his chest and down to his fist.

He spits at their feet as he tugs you away, his dominant arm already springing up in preparation for a punch when he feels them grab at his shoulder.

Grins when you scold him afterwards at home, nursing his bruised cheek.

If he's busy, Jonesy follows you to do chores!

By the way, that dog and your boyfriend always seem to know when some dick-for-brains are near you and steer you away. Will avoid confrontation when necessary.

Not above telling on the victims that shouted insults your way. Baby brother privilege!

His brothers adore you! So they find no trouble in slaughtering someone who dared spoke badly of you and upsetting Lester.

[CHEST BINDING] Lester is pretty observant of your cues. Quietly reminds you of how long you've been wearing your binder and offers to work out all the kinks in your back. He reads about it! Vincent helped him out as well. Lester peppers kisses all over your back once he's done, making sure you're practically melted against the bed once he's done.

[T-SHOTS, NEEDLES] He has slight hand tremors, minuscule but it worsens when he focuses on not twitching so he watches you as you do your thing, ruffling your hair and asking if you'd like anything to eat.

[badchoicesworld]

Hi i was wondering if you could do a male s/o that gets super insecure and uncomfortable when people look at his top surgery scars and he hates it when people miss gender him and Miles Morales Miles 42 Hobie Pavitr Prabhakar and Spider-Noir are there to defend or shut the people that miss gender him or glare at them to the point where the other person gets uncomfortable and stop looking at the male reader I'm sorry if it doesn't make sense i just type really fast and don't re-read it at some points

Anyways I absolutely love your writing work I really enjoy it and everything, have a lovely day or night ❤️💕

hobie, 1610!miles, 42!miles, pavitr and noir defending their transmasc partners

ok this took me a while i admit but i hope you enjoy !

established, separate relationships

warnings: i’m sleepy

pairing: hobie brown x transmasc!reader, earth-1610 miles morales x transmasc!reader, earth-42 miles morales x trans!mascreader, pavitr prabhakar x transmasc!reader, spider-noir x transmasc!reader

requests: check out the blog-guide for info !

he’s rapidly approaching

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

punk personified

you two were getting ready for a sick concert you’ve been looking forward to for a small while now, moral is high and all’s good

ofc it’s punk, and hobie will be damned if you don’t dress the part with him

he started diying you guys outfits for this specific concert a few weeks beforehand, and he’s super proud of them ! very happy to show you and he hopes you like them

you like them . because i said so

however, it did include a shirt that looks like it had been torn up in every way possible

depending on what ur comfortable with, it can either be a crop top that rides up just a little too much when you jump about and stretch OR it’s one of those tank tops where the sides of your torso simply aren’t covered, very low cut sides

so yeah, your top surgery scars are in the breeze

intentional ? who knows, this is hobie we’re talking about

maybe hobie’s tryna get you to step out of your comfort zone and feel more comfortable in ur skin in an environment where he knows you won’t be judged

perhaps he simply did not take this into consideration because he doesn’t even think twice about ur scars

regardless, they’re out, you both look sick, im forever furious that we were deprived of tank top hobie in low riders PLEASE (he exists in my dreams)

the concert isn’t the problem- don’t call urself punk if ur a bigot we all know this

it’s the walk there that really sucked

you and hobie got some intense stares from people as you walked hand in hand to this thing

naturally, hobie ate that shit up, kept his head high the whole time and doesn’t bat an eye at this people

you’re not as confident, unfortunately . catching people looking at your scars makes you feel all sorts of insecure, which is valid man

hobie also gets this, and god knows he looks for every excuse to antagonise those closed minded people so he’s very content to start a fight

cant care less when it comes to people judging him, he knows who he is and he’s proud asf, not gonna waste his breath on that

but when hobie sees his boyfriend curling in on himself because of strangers in the street that aren’t shit, that’s when he can be bothered to pay some mind to them

it’s subtle, for your sake . doesn’t wanna draw any more attention and risk getting caught up in this when you’ve both been looking forward to this concert for so long

so instead of outright starting a fight, he uses that scary privilege he knows he has and just stared them down in such a disrespectful way

the way that you’re both dressed too, i’m sure that it works

doesn’t relent either, will stare until the other people stop staring

ideally ? he wants to make them walk away and stop bothering you, but he’s alright with exchanging a scowl for the person to look away instead, preferably in shame

when they’re taken care of, that’s that . he wants you two to forget about that and have fun at this gig, sound good ? he wants to see you genuinely enjoying yourself in your own skin, surrounded by the people that make him feel more like himself too

besides, scars are nothing to be ashamed of or to hide

the walk home is a lot more peaceful

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

i’m sorry u were ever hurt

you two are off to the water park (using the american word, sorry fellow brits :() together, enjoy ur youth

imagine how cool you two are rolling up in ur swimming trunks

i wholeheartedly believe that miles is an absolute sap and would wanna match- i die on the hill that he’s a born to “hi ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ” forced to “wsg”

anyway, go have fun at the baths

that’s what miles expects anyway, fun with no strings attached, as most would

but that’s not how the world works, unfortunately

some people live to be hateful and have sad, empty, boring, gloomy, pathetic, waste of space lives, and you have to go through the misfortune of enduring some really vicious stares . all because you’re a guy with a few scars on his chest

people talk, you might overhear some stuff about ur character that makes you really insecure and upset

takes miles a little minute to clock the way you’re trying to fold your arms to hide your scars, but he catches on pretty quickly that it’s because of the people around you

is immediately by your side and looking concerned as hell

initially assumed that you might be in some pain, maybe the chlorine is fucking w ur scar tissue

sympathetic and checking in on you in the gentlest way when he notices that sadness

“w-hey, what’s happenin? you good?” standing really close and tilting his head to make eye contact with you if you’re looking down or away, hands are grazing your elbows to hold you

miles cares, a lot

speak ur mind man, tell him what’s going on

looks over your shoulder and at the people making you feel uncomfortable with that determined look

ushers you away, doesn’t want you around those kind people . bad vibes, he doesn’t fuck w it

probably goes snitch to staff lmao

and that’s how much he cares, he’d get stitches for u (ﾉд`)

but miles isn’t about to let the day be ruined by transphobes- god forbid

so he’s gonna try hard to make you forget about that interaction, it’s like a switch when he suddenly becomes all energetic again and is basically dragging you back towards the water

wants to hear you start laughing real fast

if miles venom striked the pool would everyone fucking die ?

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

cat

GYM BABY

PE class gotta suck with all those bitchy teens being closed minded for no good reason and thinking it’s funny to openly judge and mock the things they don’t understand

miles is very mature and knows that bullying just isn’t cool, downright stupid and bullies should honestly be embarrassed to show their face

but because the changing rooms are so small, he can’t even attempt to ignore the comments he’s hearing, all directed at his boyfriend who’s just trying to change for class

you’re minding your own business, why can’t they mind theirs ?

is another person that doesn’t wanna give you a worse time by antagonising those freaks and picking a fight, will instead just stare over his shoulder

works, miles 42 has a mean side eye, straight up vicious

he knows that won’t resolve the issue, people are so resilient w their hate and

gets insanely irritated if someone suggests you changing somewhere else . honestly would just prefer for there to be some tension in the locker room instead of isolating you away while you changed, couldn’t stand that idea because it’s flat out not fair . on top of a number of other things

can ignore the tension, doesn’t know about you

talks to you about not backing down, you have every right ro be in there and you shouldn’t feel in any way negatively about it

don’t give those closed minded people the satisfaction of making you feel bad about yourself and accommodating to them

makes an excellent point one day

“why are you watchin’ my boyfriend change..?” says it so slowly and it got real awkward after that

won’t tell a teacher unless you want to, then he’ll be moral support and be waiting for you outside the office

anyway, man’s got a killer deadeye to keep people in line and tries to not antagonise people too much

just get changed, that’s what you’re there to do people

stop being weird abt it

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

please don’t die

i’m a huge fan of those people that see a trans flag and immediately try to pull a “you’ll never be a real woman >:C” to a trans man

like yeah, thanks man, really appreciate it

it’s happened to you once or twice in the street, you or pav have some kind of pin or smthn and you’re literally just approached by strangers who have nothing better to do with their day

the most meaningful thing abt it is talking to you two honestly, ur just that cool

i can see him reading people just to point out their insecurities because violence isn’t the answer

it’s a last resort, but imagine you two simply minding your own business and this blank slate of a person decides to make a comment on your masculinity

“it’s okay sweetie, they’re just trying to overcompensate for their lack of a personality ! (๑˃́ꇴ˂̀๑)” huh 👁️👁️

pays literally no mind to them, pretends nothing happens and keeps walking with you

it’s like an invisible force field, bounces right off of him and somehow hurts the other person more

walking embodiment of that “i am rubber you are glue, what bounces off of me stick to you” and he probably recites that, too

but yeah, so insanely unbothered that i would maybe check up on him from time to time ? how is he always so chipper ? is bro good ?

but it’s infectious, so you can’t let it get to you either, it’s hard to feel sad around pav

he will somehow coincidentally always find something to immediately take ur mind off if it

after a shitty interaction with someone talking about pronouns and how theirs are an inanimate object, he miraculously spots a food stand you guys haven’t tried yet

does that Σ(ﾟロﾟ) face of his while gasping and drags you over, no questions asked

interrupts the person with the longest gasp, one would assume he hadn’t had a breath of fresh air ever

“look look! we have to try it!” pointing like that fuckin Soyjaks meme and ur gone, bigot is left in the dust

i’ve heard food is great therapy, and he believes so too

so scran down on some good street food while pavitr looks like a beam of sunshine despite just ruining a persons self esteem for the rest of their lie

it’s deserved though, so you can both sleep well

yknow what else slaps ? some chai, go home and have some w his aunty who thinks you’ve a very handsome young man

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

why the fuck is he so broad hang on

she/her a he/him and get shot, idk mans got a whole firearm for a reason

it’s takes him a little while to understand trans slander, but eventually it becomes like a fine art to him because i think he has a tendency to hyperfixate on things until he understands them in violent detail (autistic. he’s violently autistic coded. cant read a room, hyperfixated on his favourite colour, struggles to express himself through his tone.. yknow)

so if one day someone happens to catch sight of your scars and starts to talk shit in whatever 30’s slang from his dimension and modern slang from your own, he is so ready to give this speech on discrimination

theres a power point slide too but he doesn’t know how that works

gives up not even half way because he got frustrated and started cursing them out instead

“look, you seem like lovely people- no, no you don’t”

he has anger issues

there’s a lot of “and my boyfriend!” followed by a compliment, he managed to throw a few in there for good measure

says something about the colour purple at one point, i don’t know how that happened

please steer him away before someone gets shot over colour theory (surprised it hasn’t happened yet, ammarite fellow artists ? 😀 )

apologises for getting carried away, has to stop himself from talking about colours again he’s just such a peter and so unserious

“i’m sorry i- that must have been hard for you” clearly it was harder for u dear god

is likely the most insistent on doing anything and everything to make you feel better, is open to suggestions and is basically begging for them

while everyone else is low-key for ur own sake, this man’s about to buy you the world with his 4 dollars which is pretty impressive in his dimension

insists on doing your favourite things, is suggesting this and that, left right and centre

is convinced it’s the end of the world, this is reinforced since you seemed so upset and uncomfortable being misgendered by some people on the street

if you’re plenty happy to settle doing something, he’s thrilled and is giving it his 110% just for you

go watch a movie, careful not to point out the colours of noir will then realise that movies are no longer in black and white and starts asking you if everything is purple

“what a lovely purple :]” pan to like a whole pyramid

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

anyway, can you tell that hobie is easiest for me to write for and that i was running out of ideas ?

let me know how you feel about it !

if this flops i’m gonna have to go on a long stroll

[dehydrated-turtle]

Vampire!Dick Grayson

//warnings// +16, mdni, transmasc!reader

//a/n// I SHOULD HAVE POSTED THIS FOR HALLOWEEN UGH but anyway this spawned in my brain when i saw this post so thank them for this

Vampire!Dick Grayson who actually loves to cuddle because you're warm. He loves to be little spoon, feeling your warmth emanate from your chest onto his back, he may be dead but he has to know that you're alive. he loves that he can feel himself getting warmer against you

Vampire!Dick Grayson who loves the fact that you're nipples stay hard under his touch because of his lean fingers being cold. rolling them perpetually in his grasp without them going soft, if anything they get harder.

Vampire!Dick Grayson who loves to nip at your skin. he won't actually suck your blood because he loves you too much but he will definitely leave bite marks, more often than he would leave hickeys. leaving his mark on your neck saying "my boy" in your ear as he fucks into you.

Vampire!Dick Grayson who can smell the blood when you're on your period and begs you to let him eat you out. he practically gave you a slideshow presentation on why he should, one of the reasons being it helps with cramps

Vampire!Dick Grayson who would drink the blood from your menstrual cup (if you use one) and help you take it out every night before eating you out on the edge of the bathtub to "help clean up", mhm sure

[syoddeye]

kinktober - day 09 - anal

nikolai x transmasc!reader | 1.6K words cw: established relationship, anal fingering, rimming, anal (duh) a/n: the words cunt and cock are used to describe genitalia of a transmasc reader’s body. summary: nikolai had a good day. banner by @/cafekitsune | kinktober list

“Nikolai, you’re killing me—“

“Maybe. Dying men tend to squeal.”

You hear the smile in Nikolai’s voice, but you’re too far gone to even roll your eyes. All of your focus is dedicated to remaining still, an impossible task with your boyfriend’s hand on you. His fingers dig into a cheek, holding it open for his viewing. It’s slightly humiliating, not to mention torturous, knowing exactly what his free hand is doing. With your arms crossed and braced beneath you for support, your head hangs, forced to watch him leisurely touch himself. A shudder passes.

“I can’t, I can’t.” 

“Patience. You can.” Nikolai hums from where he’s knelt beside the bed. He kisses a thigh before his other hand joins its twin, tacky with pre-cum. You nearly sob when his tongue drags through your cunt with a broad stroke. He languishes over your weeping hole, offering it consolation, you think, for leaving it empty. His tongue darts in once and lingers, prying a sound from behind your teeth. He presses closer to lave over your cock, swirling around for a brief suck. He pauses to rasp a compliment straight into your core, and then his tongue returns, this time to your rim. You expect it, yet jerk backward with a choked cry, trying to meet his mouth.

Nik pulls away and you barely smother a whine. He brushes a cheek, breathing heavily. “You’re acting so spoiled. Are you in a hurry? Are you going somewhere?”

A few frustrated tears escape, mingling with the sweat on your forearms. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, be still.”

It takes a moment to settle, but Nikolai shushes you and caresses your sides. After gently patting your flank, he returns to his work, warning you with a squeeze.

You can’t hide a thing from Nikolai, in the bedroom and beyond. The second he walked in the door, he saw through your fidgeting and rushed greetings. He knew you were aching. Maybe once upon a time, you’d act more coy, deny it when asked, but no more. He trained that habit out of you, perhaps too well.

After he had dropped his bag, you panted into his mouth, pinned to the wall with his knee slotted between your legs. You told him you’d prepped yourself as much as you could. Now, his thumb tests and tugs your work, underscoring how little you’d managed on short notice.

> Home in 20. 

>> Did it go good or bad?

> Good.

You clench all over when his thumb slips in and saws slowly, and breathe deep to relax. The first hints of acquiescence, of your muscles giving him room, are rewarded with a rumbling groan. Nikolai plunges his thumb to the webbing. You risk another scolding by slightly canting your hips, seeking friction. He ought to withdraw, admonish you, but you don’t question it when he remains attached by the mouth. Every push of his thumb alongside his tongue elicits a filthy moan, each dirtier than the last, as you think about what’s next. You imagine Nikolai’s cock, swollen and leaking against his thigh, begging for his attention, too. 

By the time Nikolai’s satisfied, you’re a mess. Covered in sweat. The tears streaming down your face join at your chin like a faucet, and your thighs quiver, chilled from the amount of slick coating them. He keeps one hand on you, thumb buried to the hilt, and hooked into your stretched hole. It flutters around the intrusion, voicing your need before it spills out of your mouth.

“Kolya, please. Fuck, I need you inside me.”

He wiggles his thumb. “But I am inside you. Unless you mean my—“

“Cock, please. I need your cock inside me, please.”

“Good boy, asking so prettily.” Nik chuckles. His thumb pulls free with a pop. “Show me.”

You clumsily scramble further up the bed, barely coherent as you present, pressing your tear-soaked cheek to the mattress. You tilt your hips up as high as they’ll go, hands reaching back to part yourself, and swaying as if your man needs enticing.

The bed dips, and your eyes shut in anticipation.

The heat of his body radiates against yours as he shuffles closer, nudging your legs wider with a knee. A hand ghosts up your calf, then trails up and around to splay over your heart. He drapes over you, chest hair tickling your back, and kisses your shoulder. It makes your chest hurt. This big, solid mass of a man, whose name is uttered in equal parts reverence and fear on the block, and he’s yours. He’s your—

“Kolya…”

“I know, I know, hush, darling.” 

He lifts, weight disappearing, and his other hand maneuvers between your bodies. Your breath hitches as the tip of his cock brushes your rim, then exhales in a moan as he guides it slowly around your hole in several agonizing circles. The words please, I can’t anymore get lost in the linen as you bite into a fold in the sheets, but when he starts anew, you whip your head up before you can stop yourself. Indignant, an incoherent complaint on your tongue, but it implodes into a gasp as Nikolai chooses that moment to press in.

“Oh, f-f-fuck!” 

Nikolai’s laugh fizzles into a groan. Even after his mouth and fingers, it’s a tight fit. Liquid heat that streams down your spine, molten like a lahar, heavy enough to push your shoulders and head further into the mattress. Your nails dig into your sensitive skin and fat with a whimper. Spots dance behind your eyelids as the length of him rests, hands smoothing over your hips. After a minute of counting breaths, you let go and bury your hands into the sheets beside your head.

He takes it as his cue to slowly pull out to the tip, then pushes back in a single steady plunge. He fucks you open a little more, then grinds marginally deeper, hissing when you inch backward to chase more.

“Needy,” he sighs. “But if you insist…”

After that, it’s difficult to catch your breath. It doesn’t matter if Nik’s work went good or bad, fucking him always straddles the line between reward and punishment. He builds a pace that lets him bottom out on nearly every thrust, giving you something you’ll feel for the rest of the week. He’s got you moaning and babbling, forced to just take it as he loses himself in it. 

Drool saturates your skin, the snap of his hips rubbing your face in the puddle beneath your mouth. Your cock throbs angrily as he pistons in and out, begging to be touched, but the last time you snuck a hand down, Nik spanked you raw. You’re sorely tempted to try it anyway, fingers loosening their grip on the sheets.

As if he reads your mind, he tuts, voice gravel-thick. “Need something?”

You swallow, tasting salt from tears and sweat. “Need to touch—need to touch my cock.”

There’s a pause as he slows to shallowly rock his hips, his deliberation physical. You bite your lip hard to prevent yourself from barking something foolish and turn your head to peer at him over your shoulder.

“Fine. I suppose you’ve been mostly good. Touch yourself. I want you to make a big fucking mess.” He issues his decree with a loud slap of his thighs against yours, driving a sharp cry from your mouth.

Nikolai wastes no time in returning to his furious rhythm, and neither do you, wrapping your fingers around your cock. It’s soaked and aching, and the first few glides of your fingers make you sob. Between Nikolai jackhammering into your ass and your toying, you hurtle toward the edge in record time. You try to stay there, wanting the sweet torment to last a few seconds longer, but Nik adjusts, one of his hands slips around, and—

You come hard, cunt clenching around two of his fingers, your own curled around your cock, and holding him tight. The world burns away with a white-hot pleasure that reduces you to a lump of raw nerves with vocal cords.

Nik’s orgasm follows, heralded by a litany of curses, and his thrusts devolve into an erratic rutting. The sudden deluge of warmth filling you up reels you back to the present. You hiccup and choke on a sob, wanting to drown in how good you feel. His fingers retract with a lazy stroke around your twitching cock, but the thick of him stays buried as he drops more of his weight on you. He smushes you as gently as he can, sloppily kissing where his mouth can reach on your back.

“You still with me?” He pants against your damp skin, pumping the last of his cum in with a glacial grind.

“Y-Yeah, think so.” You hiss at his withdrawal, then flatten completely when he drops onto the mattress beside you. Your eyes are still stuck shut, exhaustion rolling over like a lead blanket, but the bed shakes with how deeply he exhales. You’re both well on the way to sleep.

“Good.” A hairy arm snakes over your waist. “Give me a moment and I’ll clean you.”

You struggle to push to your knees. “I can do it this time.”

“No, no…Can you even walk?”

“Not as fragile as you think.”

You’re glad his head is turned when you limp-waddle to the bathroom, anyway. Upon your return, you open your mouth to ask him for help changing the sheets—only to find him snoring and sprawled on the bed. Hogging the entire thing, both pillows crushed under an arm, and bare ass pointed to the sky.

Well. At least you’re not the one belly-down in the wet spot for once.

[natasharswifey]

Nothing's changed <3

Natasha Romanoff & Transmasc!reader

Requests open <3

Summary:

Natasha finds out your secret

---

Tags: Accidental outing, hurt/comfort

It had been a long day, the mission that was supposed to take you and the team only a day had been stretched out over three and you were just about ready to snap if anyone so much as breathed in your direction for the next few hours.

To be fair, the others had all retired to their rooms as well, most catching up on much needed rest.

You stepped into the comfort of your own room and shut the door, forgetting to lock it behind you with your fatigue.

You hadn't had the time to consider how long you would have to keep your bandages on, but being cramped in a cabin in Siberia with the team didn't exactly give you a chance to let yourself breathe.

As you were halfway through peeling off your shirt to have a much needed shower, you noticed the sound of small footsteps and whipped your head around to see Morgan's small figure peeping around the corner of the doorframe.

“Morgan you have to get out im trying to change!” Normally you wouldnt shout at the her, she was sweet. But you were stressed out and having anyone, including the most adorable kid in a hundered mile radius, snooping around wasn't going to help.

___☆___

Morgan clambers into a tired Natasha’s lap, “Aunty Nat, did [……] get hurt on your adventure?”

“No, honey we all came back safe.”

“But he had a big bandaid on.”

Natasha sighs and ruffles Morgan's hair. You had a history of dealing with injuries alone. Being part of a team, let alone an organisation, was still new to you. Which also meant the idea of having entire medical staff dedicated to dealing with injuries was foreign and definitely unwelcome.

Once after Natasha had suggested getting you checked out at the medbay you ended up disappearing for two days. She'd been worried sick, you were sort of taken under her wing after joining the team. She felt responsible for you.

Although as it turned out Fury was watching over you for the time you were missing. He'd convinced you to get a check up from someone who wasn't connected to S.H.I.E.L.D, or the Avengers.

That was when Natasha had begun to get curious about you.

She had tried getting access to some background information, but it was heavily protected under Fury's specific orders.

She had seen the mention of a girl about your age once or twice, but she assumed it was a relative or something along those lines and had nothing else to go on.

___☆___

Natasha opens the door to your room after knocking, looking worried and doesn't beat around the bush, “Are you hurt?”

“No. Why d’you ask?” you reply, hesitating to look up from the yaoi you were reading.

“Morgan said you had bandages around your chest.”

You turn your phone off and look up at Nat with the realisation, “I'm not hurt.”

She turns around, her worried expression now slightly riddled with confusion, “Then why do you have one on? I told you before, kid you can't hide injuries you'll only injure yourself or...” Natasha trails off as she sees the look on your face.

“Hey, what's wrong?” She sits beside you

“I've been lying to you- to everyone.”

It takes Natasha a second to realise what you mean, but it all made sense now. How cryptic you were about your past, the avoidance of medical staff… the girls’ name she had found.

She doesn't reply immediately, and you assume her silence means anger, “I'm so sorry, I should've just told you- please don't be mad at me, Natasha.

Before you can say anything else you feel her arms wrap around you in a comforting embrace.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Notes

In a kinda confused place rn, but this helped, I hope you enjoyed <33

Also, I love ally Fury why is he lowkey becoming a comfort character 😱😱. I think it's bc of the fic I'm writing actually lmao.

[winniethewife]

There's nothing wrong with you (Miguel O’hara X Transmasc!reader)

A/N: For @romanarose 's Pride event!

Week 2: Transitioning

Warnings: Misgendering

Words: 810

He looked in the mirror, running his hands over his chest. He wasn’t sure about this new binder, especially under his spider suit. It hadn’t been easy, changing from a spider-woman to spider-man. In most universes that would seem to be the normal thing, a Spiderman. Many a Peter Parker could say that. But it was a little harder for him. He sighed, and pulled his mask on over his head and slapped his gizmo on his wrist ready to head to HQ for a meeting. His eyes glance over a newspaper sitting on his table and he shutters at the headline.

“Spiderwoman Saved 9!!!” It shouldn’t bother him. He should accept that it would take time for others to notice, but he hated the feeling none the less. He tried the whole coming out publicly, as Spiderman, but it was just not sticking. He was already having a hard time privately. His parents claim their “Mourning the loss of their daughter” and “Just need time to process the change” like he hadn’t been trying to show them for his whole damn life something was wrong. He sighed and activated his gizmo walking through the portal into headquarters in Nueva York 2099. He waved to some fellow spider people before swinging over to the meeting room. He found his seat in the empty room. The others filtered in slowly saying Hello to him and finding their seats. After Miguel came in the meeting began. Just going over basic procedures and clarifying some mission reports. Near the end Miguel startled him by calling his name. He looked up at the leader of the spider society nervously.

“Would you be able to meet with me after the meeting? There’s something I would like to discuss…you’re not in trouble.” Miguel clarified quickly as he could see the fear in his eyes.

“Of course Miguel. Not a problem.” He says with a smile. He was curious what it was that Miguel wanted to talk about, they hadn’t exactly been close or anything like that. Ask the other spiderfolx walked out he stayed seated. Miguel took a seat from across from him. He pulled up one of his many holographic screens and pulled something to the front. The newspaper from that morning. He felt the color rush from his face. Oh god, if there is such a thing, what will he do.

“I was pretty sure, that there was a press conference a few months ago, one where you came out as Trans. And you said you would like to be called “Spider-Man from here on out…Or did I miss something?” Miguel said simply in that almost terrifyingly cool tone he had whenever he stated facts, not opinions, Facts. He started to nervously fidget.

“No, you’re right…It just…hasn’t stuck.” He said quietly. He felt bad that Miguel had noticed, this would have been easier if…

“Maldito idiota… you would think after saving so many you would earn a tiny bit of respect.” Miguel curses under his breath as he scowls. That’s when he realized…Miguel doesn’t blame him…the shock was enough to bring tears to his eyes.

“You….you don’t…I…But I…I…” He couldn’t get a full sentence out if it would save his life. Miguel suddenly looks at him across the table with a sad look in his eyes. He reaches and takes one of his hands gently, which he hadn’t expected.

“This isn’t your fault. There’s nothing wrong with you. You deserve as much respect as any other Spiderman.” He squeezed his hand gently his brows slightly furrowed.  “You. Are. Not. Broken. Don’t let anyone tell you that you are.” He said firmly as his scarlet red eyes looked into his. He realized this whole time he thought he was the problem, he was the one who caused issues that his choices made it harder for everyone else.

“No one…Has told me that before…that…I’m not…I’m…” He takes a deep breath and blinks away tears. “I thought I was inconveniencing people, that I was the problem. If I could just be-”

“Don’t. Don’t you dare think like that, Don’t you dare. I’m going to fix this.” Miguel was ever more determined now, how long had he just let this slide? How long had he let the press and god know who else walk all over him and disrespect him this way? Miguel would not let that stand.  Miguel got up, a man on a mission. He followed close behind, but before they could leave the room Miguel heard his voice behind him.

“Can I hug you?” He let the question slip before Miguel could leave, he blushed and felt like he had just asked way too much of the leader of the spider society, but he was quickly proven wrong, Miguel’s arms wrapped around him squeezing him gently.

“Just…don’t tell the others alright?” Miguel chuckled.

“Lips sealed.”

~

Translations:

maldito idiota: damn idiot

Masterlist

Taglist: @romanarose @silvernight-m @queerponcho @boredzillenial

[pfhwrittes]

inspired by @femalefemur’s post and my tags: 

#johnny sends this to his transmasc partner post top surgery #no one can change my mind on this #he's so used to you calling your tits your tits that he's adopted it #so when you send him “im fcukin bobless babbbyy” while still fighting off anaesthetic he absolutely cracks up #just completely loses it #and he has to show gaz the messages to explain why he's laughing so hard #gaz's eyebrows shoot up his forehead and god that's even funnier to johnny for some reason so he can barely breathe when he sends back - #- “thats braw handsome” and he can tell you're probably squinting SO hard at your messages from the way the dots indicating you're typing - #- keep popping up and disappearing over and over #eventually you just send him a blurry selfie of your loopy grin and part of the hospital gown #with a “lvoe uu” #jm #sorry cyn i have no idea where that spark of inspiration came from #and i probably should've put it in its own post instead of the tags #but here we are now #ily!

and @syoddeye’s reply: 

@/pfhwrittes thank you for the notes fic, fucking adore it. definitely loses his shit when his partner, still woozy, smiles all dorky “I got my toys off AND a boyfriend?? wow…love it here.”

pairing: john mactavish x transmasc!reader

500ish of barely edited words below the cut.

warnings: post-surgical procedure inebriation, references to surgical procedure (top surgery), fluff. 

–

your head feels both light as air and heavier than your parent’s disappointed gaze when the lovely nurse smiles at you and kindly informs you that “your boyfriend and friend will be coming in to see you, sweetheart.” 

you think you blink and sigh softly in response. 

wow, no tits and two boyfriends? this place is great!

two rumbling laughs cause your eyes to flutter open and you’re already beaming as two beautiful and familiar faces swim into view from the end of the incredibly comfortable bed you’re laying on. 

“oh mate, you’re well out of it, aren’t ya?” 

oh he’s so pretty! so smiley and pretty!

there’s another laugh, this one closer and your head swivels, bobbles, rolls, as you look down at a large warm hand holding your own. you blearily follow the hand, up past the faded inky shield and sword tattoo, to gaze into the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. 

“j’nny!” you beam, utterly delighted by the way his eyes crinkle warmly and the hand squeezes your own slightly. 

“‘m here, my braw, bonnie lad.” 

another warm hand reaches over from the other side of the bed to hold your free hand, mindful of the large white dressing on the back, and you’re dazzled by the smooth brown skin. 

kyle’s holding my hand!

“yep, sure am, mate.” kyle’s voice shakes with barely restrained laughter. 

it’s like looking into the sun, so warm and pretty. 

your eyes drift closed again as you hear johnny and kyle talk softly over your reclined form. 

–

some time later, you’re not sure how long exactly but the light from the window in your room has gone soft and golden, your eyes slowly blink open. your mouth feels dry and tacky, and you can hear the muted sounds of two animated siblings squabbling on the tv in the corner of the room. 

“-think of him more as a large brother. no offence.”

“yes, offence!”

you blink woozily as a callused palm smooths your sweaty hair away from your temple. 

“how’re ye feelin’ now handsome boy?” johnny asks gently. 

you nuzzle into his palm and grumble weakly. 

“aye, prob’ly a wee bit thirsty, hm?” 

you nod your head slowly, still feeling like you’ve been stuffed full of cotton, and feel the way the motion pulls oddly at the lump of white stretchy fabric on your chest. you drop your chin to stare at the smooth flat shape that makes up the surgical binder. 

slowly, you lift your head to gaze wide eyed and delighted at johnny before flicking your eyes over to kyle who has been watching you carefully from the slightly more comfortable chair in the corner of the room. 

“alright mate?” kyle asks carefully. 

you beam. 

“i‘m fuckin’ awesome.” 

–

three slightly wet sounding laughs fill the room as the nurse shuffles in, a large jug of water in one hand and a tiny paper cup of pills in the other. she takes a moment to smile to herself, unnoticed by her patient and the two handsome men radiating pride and love that are with him. 

the lucky devil.

[lowkeyrobin]

i heard you need more maze runner ideas so boom

can we get a newt x trans reader? like something with reassurance when reader is like “im not a real ____” its fine if not :D

ooo sure! ; I can definitely try but it's not gonna be perfect LMAO ; since newt is canonically gay kinda idrk anymore cause trashner... I went with a transmasc reader so 🙏 ; anyways thank you for requesting, hope you enjoy! ; this is just a short little drabble idk, hopefully it's good ; also I apologize to everyone who's sent requests that I haven't posted yet, I'm just very burnt out but I'm hoping to get more out soon 💔

NEWT ; yeah? yeah

summary ; youre trans, and have a hard time even accepting yourself

warnings ; language, self-hate, slight transphobia

disclaimers ; reader has short hair because of dysphoria (sorry any long haired transguys/transmascs) ; pet name (love)

word count ; 501

masterlist

You stand on the ledge of one of the Last City's walls with Newt, Gally and Thomas, overlooking the whole city. You fidget with your fingers, your body leaned up against the yellow railing. You run a hand over your freshly cut hair, feeling the slight breeze run through it.

You're unable to look out at the WCKD building, finding more serenity by looking at all the bright lights that dazzled against the dark sky. You feel a solemn type of peace as you look out across the city, although your close friend is still trapped behind those walls so many hundreds of feet away.

You look down, then loop your legs on the outside of the second horizontal rail, letting them dangle over the edge while you sit on that second rail. Your arms rest over the top rail, providing you safety next to your boyfriend.

As Gally and Thomas depart, leaving you two to catch up, Newt rests a hand on your back between your shoulders. He leans against the railing as well, looking at your dazed expression.

"You okay, love?"

You softly nod, looking up at the WCKD tower again.

"You sure?" He asks, "I know something else is on your mind, not just Minho"

You shrug, still silent.

He lightly sighs, trying to get you to look at him.

"You know you can talk to me, right?"

You nod again, giving him a little glance. The breeze sends a slight shiver up your spine, causing your cheeks, nose and lips to grow a little cold.

"Please talk to me, I'm here for you"

You shrug and look back down at your fidgeting fingers. "I dunno," you mumble. You pick at your nails, then begin to bite at them.

He gives you a knowing look, pleading you to open up. He reaches for your hand, pulling it away from your mouth.

"I don't feel like... normal. I know I'm not normal, but, like, I don't feel like a real boy. I'm not a real boy, but, like... I dunno." You shrug, your feet lightly kicking as they dangle from the ledge.

Newt softly places your hand back down on the railing and steps back. He wraps you in a hug from behind, resting his head on your left shoulder. "You are a real boy, okay? Gender is just a construct, you can be whatever you want to be, and I'll always be here to support you. You're my boyfriend, Y/n/n, alright? Is there anything I can do for you, or that you need from me?"

You shook your head no, leaning back into him as a sign of comfort and thanks.

"Why don't we catch up to Tommy and Gally, yeah?"

You nod, carefully untangling yourself from the railing as he awaits at the little entranceway behind you. He grabs your hand as you approach, sending you a soft smile as you quickly walk to catch up to your friends.

"I'm here for you, yeah?"

"Yeah"