#blue collar tf

[fredwkong]

Genie: Marcus’s Wishes

Click here to see the genie’s first master.

Marcus wasn’t your average jockboy. In school, he had been the class queer, marked for bullying because of his femme interests and gay voice. Worse, because he was one of the only Black kids. At university, he’d caught the iron bug and gotten huge, but kept the femininity, too. Nowadays, even with his powerful bod and handsome face, he still got dirty looks for his paisley shirts, peppy attitude, and swishy walk.

It was somewhere around 3 AM, and Marcus was feeling well and truly used. He hadn’t been topped like Mr. Peters had topped him in… he didn’t know how long. The Daddy dom’s husband, Lars, had told Marcus that the couple never double dipped on a guy, which sucked, but Marcus had more than enough wank material from this night alone to get him through.

Lars, still naked, followed the half-dressed Marcus to the living room. Mr. Peters was lounging on the balcony upstairs, smoking. Lars was giving Marcus the instructions for getting to the main street in his thick German accent. The other boys had left a few hours ago to catch the last busses home.

Something caught Marcus’s eye in the dimly lit room. A glint of light off of brass, an old, traditional lamp sitting next to Mr. Peters’ humidor. “What’s that?” Marcus asked.

Lars looked at the lamp like he’d never seen it before. “Some object of Daddy’s,” he grunted. “You like it?”

“It’s beautiful.” Marcus was living in his own place for the first time, and he was starting to decorate. He drifted over and lifted up the lamp. He could base a whole room off of its aesthetics.

“Take it.” Lars waved away Marcus’s half-made protestation. “If Daddy thought it was important he would tell me,” said the German model. “It clashes with our decor.” He moved closer, and growled in Marcus’s ear, “You deserve a present for being such a good slut.”

An hour later, Marcus crashed into bed, not bothering to undress or unpack his bag, leaving the lamp in his gym duffel.

The next morning, he woke up late and made a protein shake for breakfast. As he chugged it, he pulled the lamp out of his bag. Held it up against different spaces in his apartment. It would clash with the Britney poster in the bedroom. Ditto for the Barbie display in his office. He settled on the entryway. He could get a pedestal for it and make an Arabian nook or something.

There was some kind of stain on the side of the lamp. Grabbing a hanky, Marcus started to rub it, but was interrupted as the lamp slid from his grasp and released a cloud of rainbow smoke. When it cleared, a burly Arabian man in a thong and a slutty stringer tank stood in Marcus’s apartment.

“Hey cutie,” said the genie. “Make me some wishes and I’ll get you hot.”

Marcus’s eyes caught on the genie’s ample bulge, and then he processed what he was being offered. In the second before he made his first wish, all he could think was masculinity. There was a corner near his apartment where Hispanic men gathered to shoot the shit in their jeans and tank tops. Their manliness was effortless, totally unstudied, what Marcus had dreamed of being in his childhood.

“I wish I was more manly, like a Latino guy.”

“Got it,” said the genie, with a snap of his fingers. “One Latino meatlover, coming right up.”

Marcus found himself surrounded by a cloud of orange smoke. It smelled like sweat and spices, and Marcus found himself inhaling it deeply. The scent blazed a trail through his mind, and Marcus started to think in Spanish rather than English. His university education vanished, replaced by the foundation of his own landscaping company at 18, and all the hard, manual labour involved in maintaining and building yards for rich, lazy white people.

At the same time, the smoke pumped up Marcus’s big Black muscles further, and lightened them to a sun-kissed tan. His hair straightened and retracted partway into his scalp, leaving him with a simple, masculine haircut. His dick and balls expanded, and the extra testosterone threw his already ripe armpits into overdrive, filling the room with the smell of his sweat. Finally, the last of the smoke thickened into threadbare white briefs, tight jeans, and a tighter tank top, an outfit fit for the masc Latino guy Marcus was becoming.

The genie snapped his fingers once again, and Marcus’s apartment became Marco’s house, a one storey bachelor pad full of thrifted furniture, hand-me-downs, and Marco’s curated selection of Tom of Finland prints hung on the walls.

Marco looked around with satisfaction, his big, callused hands on his hips. “Buen, cabron,” he told the genie in his deep, firm voice. “I need to go work now.”

“See you tomorrow, hermoso,” said the genie, vanishing back into the lamp that sat on Marco’s living room dildo shelf.

During the day, Marco drove his pickup truck to the office, maintained the lawns for some clients, and handled everything it took to run his own business. He hadn’t done great at school—too busy working so his mami could rest—but once he’d founded the business he’d discovered a knack for accounting, so he sat in his air conditioned office to do paperwork while his college boy employees worked through the heat of the afternoon.

Well, he finished the work in an hour and spent another two sniffing his spicy pits while he tugged his thick cock.

After work, Marco drove home, checked his immaculate front and back yards for anything that needed maintenance, and fired up the barbecue. He didn’t realise he had cooked for four until he sat down at the table with a mountain of meat and no one to feed.

The next morning, Marco summoned the genie bright and early with his second wish. “I wish I had some amigos to share the evenings with.”

“Aww, you could have just asked,” the genie cooed, and blew Marco a kiss as he vanished, sending a heart-shaped orange smoke ring to hit Marco in the face with the scent of musk and spice. When nothing seemed to change, Marco shrugged and loaded up his truck for work.

At the first client’s house, Marco dealt with the usual white housewife cooing over his big muscles and blue-collar masculinity with a roll of his eyes. But then the woman’s son, a lean twunk home for the summer, stumbled down the stairs for coffee. He glanced at Marco, who was setting up the lawnmower, and saw a flash of orange light as his nostrils filled with the scent of the Latino’s musk, and his mouth with the flavour of unwashed Latin cock.

As Marco packed his truck back up, the twunk stepped shyly up next to him. At first, he asked the usual questions about Marco’s gym routine, but then Marco raised his arms, showing his hairy pits and releasing a cloud of fresh, sweaty musk, and the white boy seemed to swallow his tongue. He handed Marco a paper with his number on it and fled.

It was the same with every client that day. At some point while he worked at each house, a cute young white boy would walk up and hand Marco his number. Some were little femme twinks, others buff jocks, and a couple were cute hairy cubs. All were shy, pretty, and lived in the rich neighbourhoods Marco worked in. While he was in the office that afternoon, Marco was so busy talking to all his new boys that he fell behind on the accounting.

That evening, Marco’s house was full of the voices of hot young guys. They filled the dining table, the couches, and the patio Marco had built with his own hands. Marco barbecued to his heart’s content and wandered among the boys with his own plate. As he greeted each new boy, Marco instinctively pulled them in for a firm kiss and grope, then said “Hola, mi chiquita.”

As the night went on, the boys got rowdier and hornier. The rich, potent smell of Marco’s musk and the genie’s magic filled the rapidly heating space, and Marco found himself on his bed in a happy pile of rich white boys desperate to sniff and lick him all over. Just at the stroke of midnight, the genie heard Marco, facefucking a little twink while some jocks and cubs worshipped him, mutter, “I wish I could see myself fuck this little gringo.”

A blast of magic suffused every corner of the house with musky orange smoke. When it cleared, Marco’s bed was surrounded by film cameras, taking different angles as he shoved his thick Latin dick into the white twink’s throat. In the spare room, two of the nerdier boys sat naked at monitors and called shots for the stream. Each room had a camera setup, including a hidden corner on the patio and a secluded bower in the garden.

Once he was done with the twink and a sweaty musk worship session with a couple of jock boys, Marco got dressed for bed in a pair of stained white briefs and turned to camera one. “That’s all for tonight, gringos,” he told his viewers in an playfully thick Spanish accent. “Come back tomorrow once I’m done working hard on your lawns.” He fondled his pouch, and the stream cut.

As Marco stood by the door, kissing his boys goodbye, one young lad caught sight of a weird lamp sitting next to Papi Marco’s dildo collection.

Idea with inspiration from a chatbot of my own creation.

Click here to see the genie’s next master.

Click here to see all the genie’s adventures.

#genie #wish #reality change #male transformation #daddification #blue collar tf #latino tf #muscle tf #musk tf #dumber tf #race change #genie of the lamp #male tf #all fwkong

[octuscle]

Hey man, I've recently hired a trainer to help me get in shape and he's been super helpful! But he gave me this weird deodorant to use, says it's the kind that "real men" use. I don't know what he's saying by that, and the deodorant doesn't seem to be helping, I'm always sweaty and a bit musky after a workout. Any idea what's going on here?

You are not dissatisfied with your body. You are good-looking. You are fit and athletic. But no one believes that you are already 32 years old. No one thinks you're the boss in your own startup. Many think you're the intern. You're quite happy with the results of your collaboration with your trainer so far… You finally have something like upper arms… If the deodorant makes it even better… It won't do any harm.

You've been using the deodorant for a week now. You don't understand why. You're not just under the impression that it's not helping. Somehow you stink more after each application than before. It acts like a fertilizer for your underarm hair. You have a real bush under your arms. And as your upper arms grow, your T-shirt sleeves slip further and further up. Your armpit hair is constantly visible. And when you wear a shirt, you immediately have sweat stains under your arms. You're so uncomfortable that you only work from home.

A week later, you're done with the overshirts anyway. Firstly, none of your shirts fit you anymore. And secondly, the feeling of fabric on your armpits is driving you crazy. You can't stand any more fabric where the deodorant goes. Coach told you not to use the deodorant only under your armpits. You love the smell. Maybe you're overdoing it a bit with the use. One can barely lasts a week.

You've changed gyms. People have complained about your smell at your show-off gym. Sure, pussies who don't train properly don't smell like a real man. And then one of the bourgeoisie said that training with a naked upper body wasn't in line with the house rules. Damn, it itches like hell when you wear a T-shirt during training. Tank top? Maybe. But in the cool gym you're in now, it doesn't matter anyway. Hardly anyone wears a top. And most of them are as hairy as you are. At least almost.

Coach got you a new job. Mover. Finally something honest. The ladies and the boys love it when you carry boxes. And you're no longer just training in the gym, but basically all day long. Coach has given you a new shower gel. Actually something for pussies… Water and deodorant. That's all you need. But if Coach says so…

The shower gel is the devil's stuff. You only use it on your head, face and crotch… When you cleaned out your own old apartment the other day, none of your old neighbors recognized you. But they turned up their noses. You would have liked to have pressed your face into the armpit of one or two of them. But what for? There are plenty of bros in your gym with whom it's more fun. Real men, after all. Just like you are!

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #bear tf #white to blue collar tf #ai image

[davenporttf]

Bear Trap

Jake was a total dick and he was fine admitting it. He had the body to compensate for his short temper and overall unlikeable personality. He liked to think of himself as a real tradie through and through. He didn't care what the other guys thought of him because he knew he could do the job of three men by himself. When it came to the ladies, he was fine cutting things off after they started getting feelings. "Who hurt you?" the last one said when he broke it off. He smiled and replied "That'd be you for having to listen to you."

The crew had been working on a new apartment complex for a few weeks. The days were long and the middle of summer brought some very hot afternoons. Jake was working on installing a new water pipeline to the complex and removing the debris from all the jackhammering. They had been going at it since 7am and with the sun now beaming over him, he was feeling dehydrated. He forgot to bring his own water and was starting to regret it. He signaled over to the other guys that he was going to take a quick 15, and started walking towards the next door apartments.

Typically the neighbors next to their projects hated seeing them because of all the noise. He would see the dirty looks from the balconies but he would just wave at them to piss them off. Today he was going to play nice though, and beg for some water with a smile and an arm flex.

He went up to the first door and rang the doorbell. A few moments later, a loveable bear named Greg answered the door. He filled the door with his sturdy frame, and smiled at Jake. "Can I help you?"

"Hey man, sorry to bother you but I forgot my water today. Could I trouble you for some?" Jake said with the most charming smile he could manage.

"Yeah, of course! Why don't you come in and cool off and I'll grab you some water. I have the AC on." Greg offered kindly.

Jake was not about to pass up some free AC despite his reservations. "Yeah sure. Thanks, man." He entered the studio apartment looking around at Greg's very tidy apartment. "Have a seat on the couch, I'll grab you something to drink" Greg said as he walked to his kitchen.

Jake continued to look around and noticed some of the pride flags posted around the living room. "Awe fuck, a fag. Just great." he thought to himself as he took a seat on the sofa. He didn't like how all the gay guys looked him up and down. He worked hard to look good for the ladies, and felt uncomfortable when men shot glances his way. He had the urge to leave but the AC was feeling great against his skin, so he shoved his disdain to the side.

Greg could sense the hatred from Jake, and his overall douchebag demeanor. He had seen him for a few days now arguing with his coworkers and catcalling the women walking by. He didn't like the ripped guys, and tended to go for bears like himself. He had been living alone for a few years and with the rent about to go up due to the complex being built nextdoor, he was struggling. He didn't have an extra room to split with a roommate, and he wasn't having much luck in the boyfriend department. In the kitchen, Greg came up with an idea to fix his problem. He pulled out a bottle of water from the back of the fridge that he bought from a specialty store he frequented.

Greg walked back into the room and handed Jake the bottle of water. "Here ya go! Feel free to enjoy the air for a bit. You guys really seem to be working hard out there." Jake didn't waste a moment, and started chugging the water. The water tickled going down his throat and the water tasted so refreshing. He continued to chug the water as a bubbly feeling developed in his abdomen. Gurgles began to become audible as his stomach started to expand outward. Jake could feel his waistline pushing out against his jeans becoming more uncomfortable by the second. The water was too refreshing to stop so with his other hand he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down to make room. Jake's pecs softened and inflated, losing definition. His arms became heavier with his biceps growing more doughy. His face rounded and lost it's definition with his chinstrap widening to a full beard.

With one hand on his belly rubbing it for comfort, Jake finished the bottle and looked around at his new form. He wanted to be disgusted with himself but his grip on his prior life was slipping away. He was liking the way he felt more powerful by his size and ran his hands all over. He looked around at the apartment feeling more at home.

"You look good handsome." Greg complimented as Jake looked up at him. Jake could feel himself growing attracted to Greg, especially his handsome features. Memories of them meeting out by the construction yard surfaced. He was always on the heavier side and the crew loved how strong he was moving around the debris. Greg had walked by one day and he couldn't help but catcall him. Luckily, Greg was flattered and found Jake extremely attractive sweating in the hot sun. Moving in together was the greatest thing to happen to him, and it helped that they could split the rent.

Jake started to paw at the bulge in his briefs, thinking of how sexy his boyfriend was. "What's say we cool off more in the shower?" Jake said devilishly. He got up and walked over to Greg adjusting to his newfound size. He took Greg by the hand and lead him into the bathroom for some much needed fun.

#gay tf #mental change #straight to gay #gay bear #male transformation #daddy bear #tradie #blue collar #construction worker #belly gainer #gay gainer

[anotherdescentintomadness]

Wang YiBo — Weibo Night 210228

Red Carpet/Event Looks and Award Ceremony

#Wang yibo #Weibo night #the little prince #That time WYB showed up to Weibo night #walked the red carpet as a little prince #and then accepted his award as a king #the whiplash #the mf whiplash I tell you #This blue #one of WYB’s all-time prettiest looks and I’m *still* obsessed #The blue cardi and the jaunty beret and the ruffled collar and the tiny purse and the soft soft fringe covering his eyes #Who tf said you could do this WYB?? #SIR?? #and then to show up in this suit with the gorgeous detailing and matching black shirt through which you can see tiny peeks of his skin #🫠🫠🫠 #Never over it #I think I’m over it and then I see the photos again and I realize I’m far from recovered #And maybe never will be #And that’s fine #never over The Noodle #Forever

[istherewifiinhell]

Rewatching jacob gellars Pinocchio video to rewatch tng measure of a man to watch metropolis to read rossums universal robots to better argue about why modern tf lore sucks.

#some shit #its not called cisformers #I HATE UR STUPID ROBOT JESUS RELIGION I HATE IT SO MUCH #why have you abandoned the idea of the robot as the worker. #why must our characters be divinely created and have souls in order to be compelling. or worse. alive. #they idea that any sufficiently complex machine might live might feel might fight for their freedom #is uhhhhhh INFINITELY MORE INTERESTING TO ME. #WHY DO U HATE THE PLIGHT OF THE ROBOT. #i mean theres even smth to be said about the derision towards blue collar labour being present in the text of some iterations. #and this is DISREGARDING. the bonkers yonkers sexism of it all. #even if u made it the most feminist gender parity & intelligently engaged with alien robot gender from a non binarist viewpoint #religious lore EVER. axe the fridging and the groundgina from EXISTENCE. #i still wouldnt think it more compelling than #the five faces of darkness quote 'we tf have looked into the face of our creator and we have seen an enemy' #<- creator Literal Sense. the people who Built labourer robots do NOT like those robots being a sentient autonomus species. go figure

[roseband]

also ykw

after i do my next portfolio update, i'm just.....sending my resume and portfolio cold to TA

their apparel design work is FUGLY, and they need someone who knows print production bcuz literally no one is color separating their stuff and they're using a d2g printer which is sooooo inconsistent (and their sizing is inconsistent bcuz they're using multiple print-as-you-go d2g printers)

also if u ever get the rose merch and it has an ugly vinegary smell it's cause of the inks used for those direct to garment printers.....and the stuff they do a lot of it can be done with bulk screenprint for cheaper lol??? idk what they're doing. like if they're selling hundreds of shirts, printing on white, with only black ink, it's absolutely cheaper to burn screens rather than have the d2g printer

#personal #guyyyssssssss GUYS I LOVE U but u need someone new lol #ily SOOOO MUCH but like........... u need me <3 #ffs i have only like 2 yrs apparel experience and i know more than whatever they're using on their graphic design team #like their design team feel like........... some guy who has a dropship etsy business LMAO #i think i may just be insane about print quality tho #ALSO somehow over 2 yrs i got pushed into this weird ass hybrid role #where i do automation and art and also factory tours #i go on factory tours w/ the ppl with decades experience and i'm like ????? WTF did i do to get here? #i mean like........ the scouting out factory tours like the it's upper management and two designers/artists #and i'm one of the artists and i'm like WHY TF AM I HERE???? #(my manager asks me about color match and pantone match and CSI color matches which is why i'm there #cuz i can look at a color printed and be like 'yeah it's like 3% too much cyan in this blue for the match' cuz with the brands #i work on....color match is incredibly important....like more so than for other art...plus he tends to have me there for #like cs/tech integration issues cause i can translate from nerd to artist very easily and from nerd/artist to blue collar screenprint #factory guy language too LOL while looking 12 and being a tiny girl LOOLOLOOLOOL like i'm around this big burly screenprint dudes)

[simpjaes]

ahem…

what type of porn do you think hyung line send in the group chat👀

hyungline + sending porn in the groupchat

★ heeseung:

heeseung sends literally anything he finds hot and occasionally his own videos like "do you guys think i could get hella views if i post this?" that aside, i think heeseung would 100% be sending the nastiest shit. probably a lot of anal, double penetration, and really rough sex involving paddles, ropes, chains, sex swings, and lots of size queen/pussy training videos. on another note, he also would be into hentai and probably sends that the other 50% of the time like "look at this boruto hentai i found" which would, arguably, be the most vanilla, shortly followed by a link to another hentai called "SISTER SWAPS BODIES WITH STEP BRO AND FUCKS HERSELF, THEN GETS SENT OFF TO SPACE WHERE SPIDERS WITH DICKS START CLOSING IN!!! HD 4K WITH DUBS"....def also watches futa

☆ jay:

jay sends the stuff he actually gets off to while pretending he doesn't get off to it. like, "look at the pussy grip on this one" and "have you guys ever choked ur girl like this? *sends video of a girl's face turning blue*" idk, i think jay is probably a gooner and started with vanilla stuff only to dig deeper and deeper into the rough sex category + probably daddy kink stuff. lots of amateur porn where the guy is spanking tf out of his girl's ass before worshiping it, lots and lots of aggressive fingering videos, and just....over all a lot of the man being in full control, gagging his girl and seeing her smile around his fingers/cock etc through gags. he's def obsessed with pussy training too because he knows he's got a fat cock and wants to see other girls take dicks around the same size as him, hence the pussy grip comments. idk, i think jay sends very specific porn and almost all of them line up with what he expects in the bedroom (man in control not only spoiling the girl, but absolutely destroying her).

★ jake:

70% submissive man content 20% puppy/kitten roleplay 10% self-made videos when he wants to humiliate his girl. he'll send videos of girls reaching around and barely jerking their whining, tied up men off with comments of pure emojis like "🤤🤤🤤🤤". lots of dry humping videos, jerk off instructions from a dommy mommy, thigh fucking, cumming untouched, crying crying crying. basically ones where the dudes get tortured and/or all the attention is on them and the way their cocks are being restrained from cumming :( as for the roleplay, always butt plug tails, collars, little ear headbands, lots of whimpering, panting, and yapping like a dog or a cat. idk, his friends definitely know what he likes because he's sending videos like six times a day, the perv. anyway, occasionally he sends a super rare video of his own girl face down, ass up, near out of his mind bc he likes to give it rough after being edged for 3 hours lmfao, the only reason his friends know he got edged is bc mf is talker, and he makes it very clear that the roles switch sometimes.

☆ sunghoon:

vanilla vanilla vanilla, but in like, the best way possible??? super intimate videos where the faces are hidden but the bodies move together in a way you just know he yearns to fuck babies into someone he loves lmfao. lots of cuddling sex, finger fucking, body worship, slow and deep penetration, almost entirely focused on the woman's body and voice rather than the dick in the hole. idk, even heeseung with his dirty dirty bookmarks, he'll get a glimpse of one of sunghoon's video shares and end up watching it all the way through like "i wish i had love like that", mostly because no orgasms are faked, there's lots of squirting, pussy eating, and helllllaaa moaning. like real sex, amateur sex. idk, i think sunghoon provides the shit for when one of them gets ghosted and they need an emotional orgasm lmfao. sunghoon probably ends up sad after he jerks off because he has no one's eyes to look into when he's getting it good ://

#enhypen smut #heeseung smut #jaeyun smut #jongseong smut #sunghoon smut #sim jake smut #jay smut #jake smut #enhypen hard hours

[occamstfs]

Coast Guard Compensation

Here's another military TF, delinquent disrespects the Coast Guard and finds definitely sub-standard civilian processing -Occam

Marcus was being issued a simple ticket for drinking while driving a boat. That would’ve been the end of it if he had just shut his mouth. Unfortunately his brother was not quick enough to prevent him from tearing into the officer. Before he even begins to return to his boat Marcus is shouting at the officer swearing that he shouldn’t even have the authority to issue tickets. That he knows better than some doofus elinstee. He tosses the ticket into the sea as he continues to shout, “this is just bullshit dude! You’re just taking it out on us to feel like a man huh? Couldn’t even do well enough in boot camp to make the Army so you’ll make it all our problem!”

Ensign Harrison’s eyes followed the litter as it blew into the ocean before returning to the still shouting man. Harrison’ smirks as he approaches Marcus who despite being at least a foot shorter continues on his tirade. Jacob has seen his brother get this fired up before but nothing like this. He could only gawk as brother continued to shout vitriol as the officer approached to tower over him, Jacob could not even think to move or intervene. 

Harrison lifts Marcus by the collar and simply states, “on top of driving while intoxicated you have also littered into the fine blue sea, and verbally assaulted an officer. Under the authority invested in me by the US Coast Guard I am going to take you back to the station.” Marcus rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to retort but is tossed like a sandbag into the USCG boat. The Ensign briefly scowls at Jacob, who despite being sure this is not appropriate, can not bring himself to take any action against the man who is by all intents kidnapping his brother. 

Having established his dominance he returns to his boat to accost the problem at hand. He speeds away in his boat hearing nothing but the boat cutting through the wind and crashing through the waves. The toss seems to have knocked Marcus unconscious, to the sick pleasure of the man driving the boat. Though as they near shore, he comes to and begins anew the derision of his captor. He groans out a “you fuckin’ glorified beach cop…” To which Harrison just smirks in retort, grabbing the only barely conscious Marcus into his patrol car and starts driving back to the station.

He stares at Marcus in the rearview mirror and once he sees the glimmer of conscious return he finally offers a reply, “you don’t know what yer talkin’ about kid.” Marcus squints his eyes at the officer driving his car, knowing something weird was occurring. Something so far out of his hands was happening to him and he needed to use everything in his power to have some curve on the ball. The dick in front of him was arresting him against his will and he was not going to go down without a fight. He is going to use the only weapon afforded to him and use his mouth.

“Really, you must’ve done pretty bad to flunk out of the naval academy right? Their best guys are absolute dullards and you didn’t even make it to step one I bet.” Ensign Harrison’s scowl grows deeper as he pulls the car over. Marcus, refusing to let the chance slip by, turns it up even more. If he can get Harrison to open his door he just needs to bolt. “Oooh scary, bet you feel like a big guy huh! You got a five foot flat guy ten years younger than you in your backseat. I bet you’re just fantasizing about what you can do to me, you fashy pig! You fuckin-” Harrison clears his throat interrupting as Marcus sees veins start to bulge out of his neck and his eyes darken in the rear view mirror. He starts the car going once more and says, “think it’s best if you apologize kid. Ain’t nuthin’ good gonna come out of you talkin’ shit.”

Marcus scrambles to think what his next move should be. Obviously, fashy pig he may be, but Harrison was correct in that the only rational thing to do would be apologize. Harrison even wants to, but any time he even starts to open his mouth to do so his entire throat goes dry and his head burns hot. It distracts him. It angers him. He was going to? What was he? No, he certainly wasn’t going to apologize. To the asshole who ruined his fishing trip, absolutely not.

Harrison’s eyes continue to glower as he exits the car to retrieve Marcus, who in turn observes everything he can about the Coast Guard Station before he’s pulled out. Seeing cameras he starts to hatch a plan before he hears the door slam open and the thought of Harrison disrespecting their equipment is suddenly the only thing in his mind. Jesus that oaf, he’s making them look like even more of a joke than they are. Harrison’s face burns red as he reads nothing but a look of derision in response to this blatant attempt at intimidation.

Marcus quickly tries to escalate, taunting the trooper, “we’re on camera now fash! What’re you gonna do huh, hope you’re ready to-“ He was cut off as a hand is quickly thrust on his neck, a move he was all too familiar with, though he would vastly prefer to be on the other side. He struggles out a performative moan as the hand grows tighter moving up towards his jaw, before breaking out into coughing laughter.

True rage appears in Ensign Harrison’s eyes as he pushes Marcus’ head down into the seat, spitting on his face before letting him go. Still leaning over Marcus, he talks through his teeth, “That’s it you fucker. Hope your little jokes were worth it. You’ve had every chance and you’ve run your fuckin’ mouth. Clearly someone needs to set you straight.”

Finally getting out a sentence without being interrupted, he looks to see an expression of hunger on Marcus’ spit-covered face. Not what he expected and certainly not what he wanted, and as he glances further down he sees an even less pleasant sign growing in Marcus’ swim shorts as a boner swiftly becomes impossible to miss. As Marcus regains his breath he chokes out a “that’s all you got?” To which Harrison begins to feel a heat in his own crotch that is met with both self-derision and an eagerness for the kid to be gone.

Starting to feel out of his depth, despite ostensibly being in charge, Harrison leads Marcus in, taking great care to hide the growing cock in his uniform, which Marcus neglects to attempt, letting his own swing in his shorts. Upon getting inside he leads Marcus to an unoccupied office and locks the door behind him, demanding he stay there and keep his hands off everything while Harrison finishes processing him.

This was beyond irresponsible, but he cannot stand being near the delinquent one second longer, and something about Marcus now makes him think that it’s fine if he’s in this office. Marcus rolls his eyes and agrees though as soon as the lock turns his hands are in a desk drawer. Before he snoops though he wonders about how empty the station is, weird that he didn’t see a single other soldier right? Must be why the pig was trying to flex so hard on him and his brother, trying to hide what a pathetic joke this operation is.

He also briefly thinks about making a break for it, before remembering that Harrison has a gun on his belt. He hasn’t pulled it on him yet but surely as soon as he got the chance to shoot at a runner he’d probably blow his load. He rolls his eyes thinking how Harrison must be compensating. He’s sure all soldiers are, anyone so obsessed with guns and power clearly has something going on.

As he continues this line of thought though, he can’t help but feel that, well, but wouldn’t he want a gun too? Just to have that power? Or just in case? As he thinks about the weight of a gun in his hands he finally remembers that he is rooting around in a desk, as his hands find purchase on what can only be a weighty wallet. He smirks as he palms it thinking of the schmuck Navy flunkee whose credit card is gonna buy him and his brother lunch once he’s out of here. Marcus starts to go through it looking for anything particularly juicy to nab. He hunches over the wallet, conspicuously hiding something, though no one is there to see him.

He shoves the cash into his pocket and finds a license, his eyes glaze over as he tries to look at the name and photo of the man. Not that he cares really though, soldiers are all the same. He continues to hunch and as he does so his back begins growing wider, as if he’s willing it to hide his deeds better. His button up starts to get in the way of his movements so he starts to unbutton it as he feels an itch on the face. He realizes, god, he never wiped that pig’s spit off his face.

His shirt now hanging unbuttoned on his wider shoulders, he raises his arm to wipe whatever surely steroid-filled dried spit remains on his face and finds nothing but a face that is decidedly rougher than it should be. Day on the beach must have been pretty rough on his skin. Maybe he did overdo it today? I mean what was he doing drinking on the job anyway. He pauses before correcting himself, fishing, he was just fishing today. He groans and spins in the desk chair, fuck he needs to get back out there. This room is giving him a headache or something.

It’s kinda hot in here too? Bet that fucker turned up the heater to torture me. Marcus shoves the wallet in his back pocket and goes to stand and inspect other parts of the room before immediately falling over. As he lies on the floor his sweaty chest grows even larger, his traps expand to strain the now unbuttoned shirt as sweaty pecs force themselves into existence pressing into the cold tile floor. Then greater than anything else he feels the wallet pressing against his ass. He might not have noticed how much his upper body has grown, but his legs certainly have and if they want to support it, they need to grow.

He moans to himself. His thighs fill his swim trunks enough to make one wonder how he could even get them on. His ass grows enough to make it clear that the only way they’re coming off is to be ripped off. His bulge on the other side endeavors to make headway to this end as his cock forces its way down his pant leg and his balls swell over twice their size trying to keep up the testosterone production this body demands.

He struggles to his feet, making careful movements as to not burst open his pants then and there. Not to be deterred from his M.O. he hobbles over to a bookshelf and continues to investigate. Marcus sees a bunch of dusty tomes that feel vaguely familiar, though he of course would never want nor need to read whatever droll garbage lies inside of them. Finally he remembers just how bizarre his situation is. What the fuck is he doing? He’s literally being processed for an arrest, or whatever these knock-off cops are gonna do, and he’s just gonna steal some actually important guy’s wallet?

Neglecting to inspect how knows the importance of whoever’s office this is, he instead trains his eyes on the bookshelf. Marcus finds himself eye level with the highest shelf which he knows was not possible when he walked in. He would’ve had to jump to grab any of these books and now he can reach them flat footed. He starts to look down and see just what is happening but as he does there’s another hot flash and he leans against the shelf in pain. God! This fuckin’ place, needs to fix the fuckin’ AC or something. He pushes back against the wall not noticing he stands even taller now as a breeze wicks sweat off his ever more exposed midriff and torso and he sees a conspicuously not dusty manual.

Weird, he’s up to date on all his regulations yeah? He pulls it off, knocking dust loose from the surrounding tomes, causing him to sneeze, his neck bursting wide enough to tear shirt open were it not unbuttoned. His vocal chords thicken as he clears his throat and returns to sit down at the desk. He opens the book wondering what’s so special about this manual, causing a picture to fall to the floor.

He laughs as he grabs it and finds it is a compromising picture of Ensign Harrison. He smirks wondering just what he has stumbled into as he finds himself absorbed into the image. His eyes can’t help but trace the strong curves and powerful muscles of his, the Ensign’s body. His cock gets the messages and finally grows enough to tear a hole in the side of his swim trunks and hsi free hand immediately goes to paw it. God, he needs to see Harrison like this in real life. Drool begins to pool in his mouth as he continues to drink in the image. It spills down his chin as he sees the look of begging in Harrison's eyes, when there is suddenly a scuffle at the door.

Mark takes the second he has to hide the photograph and rip his hand off his painfully erect dick, as Harrison bursts into the room. Nonplussed as ever he looks with a sneer at Marcus with no reaction that he looks any different than when he was booked. Under his breath he complains that Mark’s clothes are far too tight for any respectable man before. He can’t hide the blush on his face though as he asks Mark to button up his shirt before getting to the real purpose he came in, “You didn’t give me your ID uh, kid?” His eyes glaze over at the incongruity of calling the man before him kid and he blushes as Mark sneers at him in return. Raising his sharpening jaw in disdain he produces the I.D. of the Coast Guard officer in his pocket without a second thought and offers it to Harrison.  

The Ensign goes to grab it, sniffing the air as he does so and making a clear face of discomfort. Marcus doesn’t notice how he smells, not his problem, if lesser men are bothered so be it. But Harrison makes haste to leave the room, on his way out saying “You better not get your stink on the furniture, ki-, uh, Sir.” Angry at himself for calling that delinquent sir he slams the door and locks it once more, leaving Mark alone in the room, his erection pulsing even larger at being called Sir.

That ball buster needs to learn his fuckin’ place, Mark thinks, I’m in charge here after all. Or? Hm. I mean I pay his wage right, tax-payers and all. Something like that. He rubs his scratchy, sharper jaw as he feels his clothes near their limit. He pauses to decide which drawer to raid next. He settles on the top left drawer and as soon as he does he slams it open only to jump back in shock, his body flexing and tensing as he hears something heavy loudly slam into the back of the open drawer. His biceps rip apart his sleeves as reaches into the drawer and feels ice cold carbon steel. His left arm burns as tattoos he doesn’t remember getting begin to stain his whole arm. He pulls out a gun, His Gun, and begins to inspect it.

He feels a regulation mustache push out of his upper lip, the one he’s always had right? He feels the burn of more ink appear on his torso as it begins to grow shredded. He feels the lengthy hair cut he has always been proud of pull into his head, leaving nothing but a high and tight that can only display the void of a personality that the military demands. He feels the weight of the gun in his hands not noticing as his clothes begin to reform around him. Good thing he got those stupid dress clothes off, he’s at work. He needs to be in uniform.

The scraps of his dress shirt cling back to him and turn into the same respectable military green of any branch. He feels a nylon shirt cling to his sweaty pecs as a thicker top slides over his biceps, struggling to keep them contained. His attention is drawn, as it often is, straight to his cock as he feels his torn swim trunks grow into silkies that are only just able to hide his impressive bulge. He is able to stuff it down the leg of his trousers as they form around his impossibly thick thighs, though even a passing observer would be able to see the beer can running down his leg. His pants are already custom made to fit his ass and thighs, it’s not like he can, or even wants to, hide his masculinity any more. He is thankful though that his, may as well be kevlar, boxers keep him from constantly staining his pants with pre.

Still rubbing his cock through his pants, he releases the unloaded magazine of the gun and moans as wrinkles begin to form under his steely eyes. He absolutely fills his pants with pre and nearly finishes the job before there is another knock at the door. He groans as his body grows once more in agitation, his veins bulging out in aggression as a definitely not regulation beard pushed out of his jaw. But he’s in charge here. He’ll get it back to reg as soon as those fuckers start giving him some respect.

Before waiting for an answer Harrison bursts in, preparing to continue his little power trip, though as he sees the man sitting at the desk, gun drawn and more importantly now in uniform, he can do nothing but salute and shout “Captain, uh! Sir!”

Absolutely not ready or willing to set him at ease Mark gets up and begins to walk over. Captain huh, he likes that. The Captain walks up to Harrison and starts to tease his Ensign. His already deeper voice grows gravelly and gruff as he rubs his thumb across the saluting soldier's jaw, “Now Harry, I don’t believe I gave you permission to enter, did I?” Harrison gulps as The Captain continues, “Now are you here now on business, or is there something else I can do for you?” Harrison glances down to the impossible bulge in his captain’s pants, causing Mark to smirk and all-too-familiarly launch his hand to his Ensign’s jaw. He forces Harrison to make eye contact with him. He gulps once more as he hears the fabric stretch in The Captains pants and his face grows red. He shuts his eyes, feeling his own cock instantly surge into an erection. “I- uh, there was a call, sir!”

The Captain’s look of hunger changes slightly and he grins, “a call hm? At ease, Soldier.” Harrison collapses against the door, his eyes still closed, lest he cum on the spot from seeing The Captain in front of him. Mark then leans over him to whisper to him, his breath tickling the neck of the Ensign, “Now, why don’t we go show these fuckin’ delinquents just what business the US Coast Guard means hm?” Harrison’s eyes open as his body convulses, cumming as he slides down the door, moaning in shame. In turn The Captain stands and prepares to go gather some more recruits, the station has been awfully quiet recently. Just him and pathetic little Harrison, they could use some fresh blood, which he will inevitably gather at whatever bonfire or fishing crew they are about to raid...

#male tf #mental change #masculinization #military tf #muscle tf

[hunnieknight]

"Something on My Neck?"(+Art)

Genshin women various reaction on the hickey you left on them.

Established relationship, morning-after, ooohh women, ooohhh dominant women, you probably got soul sucked so hard you can't get out from the bed, implied submissive reader

Note : I only include characters that i think are (head)canonly adult/implied to be at least above 18

------------........------------

"Yeah, and?"

Unbothered and no attempt at covering at all. They have no shame,aren't they? NOPE! You are theirs,they are yours! So why would they be shy about it? It is just a sign of you both love each other so much. They are taken and in a very happy-loving relationship! A love thropy on their neck.

Huh?it's too much? They should've seen the state of your body after they finished with you

Not like they would share that special view!

Beidou, Shenhe (she is more likely not understanding that hickey is embarassing) , Raiden Shogun, Lisa

"Oh?A mark?Oh well"

There is an attempt, just a faint concealer or pull up the collar of their shirt. They still have dignity and wants to save yours too. They could imagine the color of your face if you realize people could see the hick-

Huh?oh...people already seen it? oh..well,whose business is that?

Ningguang, Candance, Raiden Ei, Rosaria, Shinobu

"Please ignore it"

Going all out hiding it; heavy concealer, that spoon trick, massaging it, putting their hair in certain way, and ended up using turtle neck or scarf or something. They have people to meet and reputation to keep, so it is unecessary to bring their attention to their love-making sign. Ahh..now they gotta answer why is their neck covered..It is so obvious too, they will go red and sweat drop anytime someone asks.

Maybe next time they will only allow you mark somewhere else

Dehya, Ganyu, Jean, Ayaka, Mona, Sara, Yoimiya, Eula, Keqing

"Ah yes,i had a great night"

How tf they are able to hide those blue and red bruises on their neck???you were pretty sure you basically devoured them last night. No way any make up able to hide it, is it the vision????

Anyway, they are professional and wants to keep what happened last night in the bedroom stays in the bedroom, including your marks.

Oh you think they will share how to hide it?

Hmm...naahh..it is more fun to see you struggling with the marks they left on you. You do you~

Yae, Faruzan, Yanfei, Nilou, Kokomi, Layla (with the help of her other personality)

#lisa x reader #candace x reader #gender neutral reader #genshin women #genshin women x reader #yoimiya x reader #nilou x reader #genshin impact x reader #imaginedraw

[fredwkong]

Angus, Beef

Dr. Angus Jacobson was a prodigy. At just 35, he was on the tenure track at a major university, researching intersectionality and climate justice. Some people thought it was strange that a straight white man from a middle class family had gone into the field, but Angus just laughed and said he had felt a calling.

Not only was he a great intellect, Angus was also always impeccably dressed in semi-formal or formal clothes. He loved wearing suits, or a polo shirt if it was hot, and keeping his hair short and professional. He thought that being presentable was a huge part of getting ahead in life.

As one of the foremost experts on climate justice in the country, Angus consulted with several large corporations on their eco-friendly projects. Often, that meant touring sites and giving recommendations on how to improve the design or the worksite conditions to better help people. He was always unfailingly polite to any workmen that he met while on his tours, but he found them hard to relate to. They just didn’t seem to have very complex life experiences compared to him. And even if they were working out in the heat all day, he couldn’t help but feel like they enjoyed being all sweaty and never using deodorant. The thought made his skin crawl.

One day, Angus was touring a site where a development company was building carbon neutral high rises. He had just finished speaking to the foreman and was walking away, taking notes on his tablet. The drainage system was going to need a big upgrade if the facility was supposed to stand up to the storms that occasionally came through.

Suddenly the foreman called after him. “Hey, Mr. Jacobson, you forgot this!” he yelled. He was a big, burly Black guy, and his voice carried across the whole site. Angus turned, surprised and a little scared. The foreman held out a small, folded piece of white cloth. Angus was sure he hadn’t dropped anything or handed anything off, but he took it anyway. He didn't want to say no to someone like this. It was strangely damp to the touch.

The foreman grinned at him. “See you ‘round, Mr. Jacobson,” he said, and walked away without another word.

Once he got into his car, a little European EV, Angus unfolded what turned out to be a white undershirt, wrinkling his nose at the thick scent of stale sweat and body odour it gave off. It certainly wasn’t his. Maybe it was some kind of prank? He could just throw it out when he got home. Angus tossed it on the passenger seat and started driving.

The smell was impossible to ignore. Even once he was back home, the shirt safely in the trash, Angus felt like it was following him from room to room, infecting everything he touched with the smell of unwashed man. Even after showering, applying fresh deodorant, and changing into his silk pyjamas, he swore the smell was still on him. He stalked restlessly from room to room, sniffing his pristine loveseat, his freshly ironed slate grey sheets, and his immaculate suit closet to try and find the source. Finally, he gave up, resolving that it was psychosomatic. He would just call the company tomorrow and complain about their foreman playing a prank.

The next morning, Angus was walked out of his bedroom confidently in his usual suit. He had completely forgotten the incident from last night. That is, until he walked into the living room to see a beat-up leather sofa in the place of his rarely-used loveseat, the white undershirt draped over the back of it. “What the fuck?” he breathed.

Angus never used his living room. If he wasn’t in his office, he was in his bedroom. He’d only used it for the few times a date had gone well, and a guy wanted to come watch a movie… Something about that line of reasoning felt wrong. He thought it through again.

Angus spent plenty of time in his living room. He had spent good money on a quality sofa to relax on. Guys loved it, too. They loved the feeling of leather against their backs while Angus pressed down on top of them.

Angus frowned. He was versatile, but he wasn’t the kind of guy to fuck on the first date… was he?

Anyway, he looked proudly at his sofa. What the hell was that grimy undershirt doing on it? He must have dropped it there on his way to put it in the garbage yesterday. He snatched it off—how was it still soaking wet with sweat?—and mentally promised that he would clean the couch after work. The shirt went back into the garbage and Angus headed off to the university.

When he got home that evening, he swore that his house still smelled like sweat. He found the shirt in his office, where he must have left it this morning. It was right where his antique phonograph had been… Where his weight rack was, draped over the back. Angus threw the shirt into the garbage, disgusted, then did his lifting while watching a lecture on climate stewardship. He was so glad he’d thought to put a rack of free weights in his office, it let him multitask so much better. He could tell it was having an effect, too, since his arms were looking bigger these days.

Once he was done his work, Angus found himself feeling horny and bored. It was unusual, since he usually ended his workouts grossed out by his own sweat, needing to shower and lie down… Of course, it was normal, exercising always energised him, and it was too early to shower. He headed out to a bar, and a few hours later Angus found himself lying on his couch, grinding against some hunk whose name he’d forgotten. After they came, Angus gave the guy a goodnight kiss and sent him home. He barely wiped the cum off his skinny chest before he fell asleep, forgetting to shower.

Things continued this way for a few days. Angus kept on finding the shirt, still wet, sitting on a his furniture. He kept on getting hookups, at least one a day. After a few days, he couldn’t smell the sweaty shirt anymore. Between his lifting bench, sofa, unwashed sheets, and dirty laundry bin, there was too much of his own smell in the house anyway. One morning, he found the shirt in his medicine cabinet, and he couldn’t find his deodorant… He had a big tub of curl cream, one of his hookups must have fixed their hair and forgotten it.

Angus found himself hooking up with Black guys more often. He’d never had a strong preference for any one race… He’d always loved big, thick Black men. He knew it was just a fantasy, but something about big, dumb Black guys appealled to him. He downloaded Grindr, found himself drooling over pics of thick men in construction gear.

Somehow, the undershirt was in his car one morning. In the place of his nice, planet-saving EV, there was a manual truck Angus had no idea how to drive... Angus loved his truck. He loved to feel like a real man on the road, even if the gas-guzzler did conflict with his morals. It was fine, though, he would just make sure his next car was an electric truck

One evening, Angus found the shirt on the floor of his closet. His precious suits were gone! Instead there was… The shirt had been hard to find, since most of Angus’s clothes were similar casual wear, half of it dirty on the floor of the closet. Even his work suits weren’t washed nearly often enough, giving off a bit of a stench. Every once in a while, Angus would see someone’s nostrils flare when they walked past him, catching his manly musk on the air. It gave him such a feeling of power and masculinity.

Lounging on his leather sofa in a pair of threadbare boxers, Angus was scrolling Grindr when he got a message. “Hey man, you ready yet?” It wasn’t from anyone he knew, except… It was from the foreman of the work site. His profile was full of pictures of him in hiviz gear, sweating in the hot sun. What could he mean? Maybe he wanted to do some roleplay. He was so hot, exactly what Angus loved imagining.

“Always ready for you, baby ;)” Angus messaged back. A few minutes later, he was texting the foreman his address, excited to see him again.

Just before he let the guy in, Angus realised he needed to put on a shirt. He had nothing clean. There was an undershirt sitting where his bedside table should be… Over his bong. He should wipe that down, see if the foreman wanted to smoke up after sex. He threw on the shirt and went to answer the door.

The foreman looked approvingly around Angus’s apartment. “Looking good,” he said, half to himself. He fisted a hand in Angus’s shirt, almost like he owned it, kissed Angus hard, filling Angus’s mouth with his huge tongue. “Seems to me that you’re way too white and educated for this house. Mr. Jacobson. You live like one of my labourers.”

Angus looked around. The foreman was right. For some reason, despite being a university professor, his house looked nothing like it. He didn’t have an office, just a home gym. He had no suits, no bookshelves, just casual gear and porn DVDs. Maybe it was all in at the university? That didn’t make any sense.

Before Angus could get too confused, the foreman grabbed him. He whispered in his ear, “Seems to me like you want to roleplay. You want to tell me you’re a big, dumb, sweaty construction worker, right, Mr. Jacobson? You want to fuck me with your big Black cock while still wearing your shirt?”

Angus did.

“You like that?” he growled a few minutes later, getting between the foreman’s legs. “I’m gonna open you up with my tongue. I didn’t get any fancy schooling to use fancy words, I just eat guys like you out like you've never been ate out before.”

He drove his tongue into the foreman's ass, enjoying the taste of his unwashed ass. As he did, Angus’s tongue lengthened, his lips darkening as his nose became wider. By the time he had the foreman moaning, his hole starting to gape, Angus’s face was black-skinned, his features strong and masculine.

“Yeah,” he grunted. His voice was deeper, slower. “I work hard in the heat all day, and I fuck hard all night. I sweat and leak so much I basically don’t need lube.”

Angus’s cock seemed to get even harder as he bottomed out in the foreman. He felt a burst of sensation as his foreskin grew back, a continuous stream of precum starting to leak from the tip. The skin around the base darkened, his hair growing in thick and black.

Angus started to rock back and forth as the foreman moaned underneath him. Having this burly Black man at his mercy made Angus feel even more confident. He continued roleplaying. “I’m such a thick Black construction worker, your cock gets caught between our sweaty bellies when I suck your neck. You’re gonna get off with your cock trapped between us.”

He leaned down and started to bite and lick at the foreman’s neck and collarbone as his chest and belly expanded. Angus’s skin darkened as hair grew thick over it, sweat beading as he fucked harder. Just like he’d said, the foreman’s cock was caught between their muscle guts, the foreman’s precum mixing with salty sweat to create the perfect friction.

Angus could feel the orgasm coming. He barely understood the words coming out of his mouth as he said, “Gonna pick you up and fuck you against the wall. I’m a big Black muscle bull, got no brains, just a big muscle ass and thick legs, so sweaty, dumb, smelly…” He trailed off, rocking back as he picked up the burly foreman like he was nothing, slammed him against the wall, and kept fucking.

He felt the foreman’s hands on his juicy muscle ass, tense and round as he rutted against the wall. Yeah, Angus’s body was the product of hard labour, a temple of Black manliness. He was glorious, a fucking god, he was… he was…

Angus came, filling the foreman up with shot after shot of thick Black cum. The foreman came too, his cock still pressed between their bellies, his cum soaking into Angus’s sweaty undershirt.

In a haze, Angus stumbled back from the wall, still holding the foreman off the ground. He collapsed onto the bed with a huge crash. Something had changed… Everything was fine… He was a beast… Angus fell asleep without pulling out.

The next morning, Angus “Beef” Jacobson woke up slow, enjoying the feeling of a mouth on his musty cock. Boss was so good with his tongue. “Morning, Boss,” grunted Beef.

Boss pulled off Beef’s big black cock with a pop. “Morning, Beef,” he growled. “Ready to head to the site?”

Beef grunted. He reached down, grabbed Boss by the shoulders, and dragged him up. “Not yet,” said Beef, lowering Boss onto his slick cock. He started moving his Boss up and down like a fleshlight.

Beef wasn’t the smartest guy. That was how he’d gotten his nickname, ‘cause he was like a big, sweet cow who loved to fuck. He was like a walking stereotype of a Black construction worker: burly, sweaty, musky, and totally dumb. Hell, he’d pretty much worn the same shirt for a week, an undershirt Boss had given him. It was so musky and smelly Beef was pretty sure anyone who touched it would be smelling him for weeks. That was a hot idea.

He didn’t really know much other than the physical stuff, but Boss told him he was helping to save the world, some shit about green buildings. Beef thought that was funny, since the building was grey concrete, not green. He was such a dumbass sometimes. Just a big piece of dumb Black Beef.

This story was part of a trade with @artificial-transmutations. See his half of our trade here.

#male transformation #male tf #mental change #muscle tf #reality change #race change #dumber tf #musk tf #black tf #clothing tf #gradual change #construction worker tf #all fwkong #blue collar tf

[octuscle]

Fun on the not so fair ground

Where Darren was, Darren wasn't there because he was particularly clever or hard-working or charming. No one knew exactly how Darren had made it to division manager. And how he had remained division manager despite dissatisfied colleagues and customers. No one liked the arrogant, smug asshole. He was moody, incompetent… But he was divisional manager and because of some skeleton he had in the closet with some board member, he remained divisional manager.

One of Darren's most striking characteristics was his stinginess. And his resentment. He was annoyed that he hadn't won any tickets for the rollercoaster or the Ferris wheel in the lottery organized by the HR department for the company outing to the fair. But he was all the more delighted to win a ticket for the ghost train. Everyone else had always won two tickets. He suspected that the ghost train was so expensive that there was only one ticket for it. And he had it.

For Darren, going to the fair was more of a chore. Having to deal with his colleagues in the evening was an imposition. But since he had won the ticket, he had to go. And he especially had to go on the ghost train. His colleagues wished him a lot of fun, the meeting was in a beer tent in half an hour. Darren joined the short queue. The ticket taker looked at his ticket. "Oh, the special tour!" he said with a grin. His eyes just lit up red for a moment. Must be some kind of special effect, Darren thought to himself. The bar on his gondola closed. The ride started.

It was a terribly boring ride. Only small children would be frightened on something like this. Darren was happy when the ride was over and the bar opened again. He walked towards the exit. Suddenly a door slammed shut in front of him. And a hidden wallpaper door creaked open. This had to be the part with the special tour. But here too: Lame, boring effects. Some of them were obviously broken. And the dust and cobwebs seemed to be real. Darren stood in front of a picture with the caption "Your greatest horror". Well. Biggest horror. It showed a young man with cheap clothes, a cheap haircut and obviously no future. Darren wasn't afraid of people like that. He ignored people like that. There was a mirror next to the picture. It was captioned 'Your future'. Darren saw a young man with cheap clothes, a cheap haircut and clearly no future. Fuck! He grabbed his face and the reflection did the same. His skin, which had just been flawless for a man in his late 30s, was blemished. As if from too much alcohol and nicotine. And too little care. Maybe it was the remnants of acne, because the man in the mirror was younger than Darren. Maybe in his early 20s. Badly shaved. His hair styled in a preppy undercut. And he stank. That couldn't have come from his reflection. The jacket was made of cheap, badly tanned leather. Sweat. Cheap deodorant. Nicotine. His fingers smelled like those of a chain smoker. And his teeth were yellow like a chain smoker's. In a panic, Darren looked for the exit. He found himself behind the ghost train. There was a "Staff only" sign above the exit. Darren tried to open the door. He rattled the handle. A man opened it for him. Behind the door was a small staff room. The man asked if he wanted to apply for the position of young man to travel with the fair. Darren ran away in a panic.

Where to now? To the beer tent? What would his colleagues say? They wouldn't recognize him. He tried anyway. The bouncer turned him away. For invited guests only. Darren had an invitation. He used to have an invitation in the inside pocket of his jacket. Now he had an almost empty pack of filterless cigarettes and a battered Zippo. His wallet hung on a chain from his torn jeans. With a bit of cash. A ten-ride bus pass that was almost used up. And a driver's license. For big trucks and tractor-trailers. Bloody hell! He still had to be on this ghost train. It was better than he thought. But he didn't feel like it anymore. He wanted a shower and then to get into his silk pyjamas. But his car key was gone. And where his car had been, there was now a completely different one. He had to walk, Darren had no idea how he was going to get home on the bus and he didn't have the money for a cab.

He had been walking for almost half an hour when he finally got home. In the dark windows of his elegant old apartment on the mezzanine floor, the "For Sale" signs were covered with "Sold". The. Is. A. Cursed. Nightmare! Darren no longer had a key for anything. Not for this apartment that used to be his, not for a missing car, not for his office. He had no cell phone, he had the few things he had on his person. A nightmare! His worst nightmare! His biggest horror! Darren climbed over the fence. It was surprisingly easy. His new body was athletic. He had already noticed that on the way here. There was a Victorian summer house at the back of the garden that belonged to his apartment. And he always hid a key there. Under a flower pot. A flowerpot that no longer existed. Everything on the porch of the garden shed was an army duffel bag. With a rucksack in it, a tracksuit, underwear. Everything wasn't quite clean anymore. But it was obviously his. Darren picked up the duffel bag, walked over to the fence, threw the duffel bag over and climbed in after it. A policeman shouted "Freeze!" And Darren ran for his life.

It had taken him three quarters of an hour to get back to the fair with his duffel bag. No idea why he had come back here. A few drunks staggered out of the beer tents. Darren didn't recognize any of them as colleagues. Most of the rides were just closing. "Son, can you give me a hand?" Shouted an older gentleman struggling on the bumper cars. "A few dollars, a bowl of soup, and by the look of you, you could use a place to sleep." Darren took a deep breath, grabbed his duffel bag and helped the man push the bumper cars together and lock them up.

The first few days were hell. Darren wasn't used to physical labor, even though his body was. The little money he earned was enough for cigarettes and pre-paid cards for a cell phone. And the guys he had to share the trailer with snarled and stank. But Darren probably snarled too. And he certainly did stink. The only thing he enjoyed was sex. Plenty of sex. Apparently there were lots of girls and boys, young and old, who liked the fairground rebel type. Darren had stopped counting how many cocks he had sucked between the frames of the rollercoaster, how many asses and pussies he had fucked. Sometimes for free. Sometimes for a handful of dollars. He could put that money to good use. A buddy had a booth at the fair where he did tattoos. Real works of art. Of course Darren got a special price. But even among the bros here at the fair, nothing was for free. The first few days went by. The first weeks went by. Darren, who everyone had long since just called Daz, had gained routine in building and dismantling "his" rollercoaster. The other guys who helped out here were runaways, vagrants… They were usually gone again after a few days. Not Daz. This was his home. This was his family. He loved his job. And he was damn good at it.

When Daz took over the management of the small fairground company with a rollercoaster, a bumper car and a lottery booth a few years later, nobody was surprised. Daz belonged here. Always in a good mood, always ready to help. And always horny!

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #inked man #tank top #age reduction #leather tf #white to blue collar tf #ai image

[executables-sims]

Downloads for the Whole Family!

By @profesionalpartyguest & @executables-sims

For the past few months, @profesionalpartyguest and I have been making some CC for all ages. Full details and downloads below the cut! :D

CM/TM/AM/EM Leon Hair | Download TF/AF/EF Lea Hair | Download Originally 'Leon Hair' by Arcia / 'Lea Hair' by Arcia. Arcia's hairDavid edit, now also for CM and TF! :) The textures have been repo'd, so M&G is required. Animated, binned, familified, and compressorised; 1754 polys.

PF Ruffled Romper | Download / PSD A ruffled crêpe romper for toddlers, using Tiggerypum's bubble romper as a base. :) Some slight clipping is present on the belly due to the puffy shape, and on the back ruffle for some anims. Compressorised! 1760 polys.

BG 'Sweater Set' default replacement | Download / Custom version / PSD A vintage knitted twinset for your elder ladies. :) Has both thin and fat morphs, and has been compressorised; 1558 polys (down from 1586).

CU Puffer Jacket with Cargo Pants and Sneakers | Download / PSD Something warmer for when the cold rolls in! :) A puffer jacket and cargo pants combo built off of Windkeeper's CM conversion of tmChinoise. Categorised as outerwear only; has both thin and fat morphs, and has been compressorised; 2104 polys.

TF/AF/EF 'Hair Modern Punk' | Download A MtF conversion of the single scene hairstyle Maxis gave us. x) Textures are repo'd to the original TS2 Store hair, and are pinned to the store edition; unnaturals are binned instead of custom, like the originals. Binned, familified, and compressorised; 1864 polys.

OFB 'Cuffed Pants' default replacement | Download Some bright and cheerful blue jean recolours of Nimbussims' patterned cuffs. :)

BG 'Dress Above Knee Collar' default replacement | Download Denim dresses begone! A polo and jean skirt combo in a full spectrum of colours for Lucy Burb and friends.

Wrinkles Overlay Box | Download All your favourite full-face wrinkle overlays, now in a box! Includes wrinkles from AlmightyHat, @episims, Nymphy, Onah, @sligpants, and @simnopke. :)

AF/EF 'PTA Diva' Hair | Download A longer edit of afHairMidwaveMature. :) Animated, binned, and familified; 1578 polys.

TS2 Store Hair Package Edits & Add-Ons | Download A bunch of reduced file size TS2 Store package edits, and some Store-ified add-ons! Credit to @deedee-sims for some of the packages used. Store-ified Add-ons: CM/TM/AM/EM KadBrazil 'Alan' TF/AF/EF KadBrazil 'Livia' TM/AM/EM HIM666 'Long Wavy for Men' UU Aikea-Guinea 'Royal We Stand'

Hope you enjoy! :D

#The Sims 2 #TS2 Download #TS2 Clothing #TS2 Clothing Default #TS2 Hair #TS2 Object #TS2CC #Collab

[sage-green-matcha]

JEALOUS GIRL - ETHAN LANDRY 🔪

”if I can’t have you baby, no one else in this world can” - Lana Del Rey

Content includes: killing, obsession, manipulation, y/n being a psychopath!!!

A/n: Ethan you dumb ass 😭

<3

<3

<3

<3

"Hey, do you think I could get your number?" You stared at the brunette that went up to Ethan, jaw clenched as you watched him type his number into her phone. Poor baby, he was getting sucked into all these sluts lives. "Y/n...you okay?" Mindy waved her hand in front of your face, noticing your empty stare. "I'm fine" You smiled at her, turning your attention back to Ethan.

He looked so cute today, a blue collared shirt, his classic hoodie over top. His hair looked extra good, all his curls perfectly placed. You just wanted to run your hands through his hair, holding him tightly as you cuddled. You had imagined the scenario thousands of times. Unfortunately for you, it would never happen.

You remember that night like it was yesterday. He had stood you up, his messages getting dryer and dryer. It was till finally, he told you straight up. He only saw you as a friend.

You were mad at him, but only for a little bit. He was too cute to be mad at. So you continued to follow him around, making sure that he saw you at least once per day. You wanted to stick into his mind like gum on shoes. He wasn't smart enough to see that he was the perfect one for you. And you couldn't blame him for that, maybe he just needed a little push…or shove.

You slipped on the mask, knife in hand as you stood in the bathroom. Because of how smart you are, you were able to find the girl's name and address with a quick insta search. You stood in her bathroom, waiting for her to come home from her date with your boyfriend at any second.

You felt a vibration coming from your jean pocket, taking out the phone to be met with a notification from Ethan.

The sharp 7 GC!! 🔪

Mindy: who tf named the gc?

Chad: it was me ;-;

Mindy: very funny ha ha

Ethan: You all remember the girl from this morning? Well, she kissed me...

Chad: HEYYY MY MAN

Tara: She kissed you? I find that hard to believe

Mindy: that's disgusting

Ethan: I'm calling her in a bit, I'll give updates

Sam: we don't want any of your updates keep that to yourself

Mindy: I agree 🤮

Anika: awww! Go Ethan!!

You heard the door open, putting your phone away before listening through the door. "I had fun with your tonight" You could practically hear her smile in her voice. Your body filled with anger, what a slut. Rubbing herself all over your poor, innocent Ethan.

"I did too, you looked so gorgeous" What a joke, he had said that to you first. You rolled your eyes, scrolling on your phone as their conversation carried on. You eventually got bored, waiting about 20 minutes in the bathroom.

You decided to switch up the plan a bit, since she wasn't gonna come into the bathroom anytime soon. You walked out, her focus still on her phone. She was on the couch, her phone propped up on a candle on top of the table.

You waved the knife around behind her, Ethan's eyebrows furrowed. "Hey, behind you...what is that?" She turned, sadly for her you had good aim. Slashing her throat with one quick motion. "What the fuck?" She screamed, shutting her up with the knife repeatedly being stabbed down her throat.

You waved at Ethan, kicking the table so the phone would fall, you didn't wanna traumatize your baby too much.

The next day you made sure to be extra sweet to Ethan, putting on your favorite daily act. "I couldn't even imagine seeing that, I'm so sorry that's fucking brutal" You fake shivered, his hands over his face. "You guys do know what this means right? There's a new ghost face in town!" Mindy yelled.

"Here we are again" Tara sighed, Chad nodding along with her. Luckily for them, you didn't give a shit about the Woodsboro deaths, and you didn't have anything to do with them.

This was purely for your enjoyment. And you wouldn't stop until Ethan realized that you were the one just for him. You continued to brutally stab any bitch that talked to him, even looked at him. He was for your eyes only.

"I'm sorry that this keeps happening to you, the right one will come. I know it" Your hands ran through his hair, rubbing his back in a comforting manner. "I don't want him to kill you too" "Don't worry E, I'll be fine. You know I know how to take care of myself" he smiled up at you, satisfaction filling every vein in your body.

One last time, you were only gonna kill one last time. You had gone even more Insane, your hobby growing as weeks went by. You already had 4 victims, and 5 is the perfect number.

Ethan had already caught onto what was happening. Any girl he talked to, hung out with. They were gone just like that. He wondered why nothing was happening to you.

"I know you're ghost face, Y/n" "What?" You got all dressed up just for him, the black dress hugging your figure perfectly. "You're really gonna talk about this now? Here? And you think I'm the one killing all these girls?" He nodded. "Why hasn't anything happened to you? I talk to you every day"

"Well, I don't know why you're asking me that...you know I would never harm anyone" You felt your blood bubble up with excitement, the rush you felt was like no other. He was finally paying attention to you, even if it wasn't in the exact way you wanted.

"Can we please drop this? Or talk about it somewhere else? You make me seem like I'm crazy or something..." he let out a sigh. "Okay, you're right. I'm sorry...I've just been having a hard time lately...I shouldn't just be accusing you like that"

You finished up dinner, taking him back to your apartment. “I’m sorry for what happened at the restaurant, I’ve just been alert and it makes the most sense, I’m sorry” you smiled, your stomach filling with butterflies. “It’s okay, I know you’re going through a lot” Your sweet voice manipulated his brain, making him feel safe.

You had so much power over him. He was so vulnerable, you found it so cute. “Thanks…” he looked down at you, taking your chin into his hands. “Of course, you’re safe with me”

#celebrities #cute #ethan landry #fanfic #jack champion #scream #ethan landry smut #jack champion x reader #avatar #ethan landry x y/n #manipulation #gaslight gatekeep girlboss #hot as fuck #idk idk #jack champion fluff #jack champion oneshot #jack champion x y/n #jack champion fanfic #jack champion scream #jack champion angst #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry scream #scream 2022 #scream franchise #scream 2023 #scream movies #lana deal rey #jealousy

[elmuvahva]

let me talk about leo and donnie’s matching clothes pLEASE

plus a lil bit of mikey and raph near the end :>

so we all know the obvious ones like in ‘repairin’ the baron’ and in ‘man vs sewer’

but i want to talk about the little things hehe. starting with the two mentioned above anyways lmaooo

yes they’re matching but i love the little differences they add on. leo wears a blue undershirt, fully going ride or die with his blue theme, while donnie goes for a white undershirt for a more classic look.

i think that says a lil but about their characters and how they thought to present themselves to april’s mum (who they thought they were meeting). they both wanted to look good hence the stunning matching outfits, but leo also wanted to be himself (hence the blue undershirt), compared to donnie who wanted to appeal to april’s mother (hence the more classic look with the white).

in man vs sewer, they are both wearing the singlet and board short combo, however leo opts for simplicity and ‘laidbackness’ keeping the bare minimum and keeping his shirt loose and untucked. donnie on the other hand goes further and adds the extra decorative shirt to really hammer home the ‘i’m not a useful member of society’ and the holiday/break vibes he’s trying so hard to feel. he also chooses to tuck his shirt in, which i think is just a personal stylistic choice, one which extenuates and shows off the board shorts more and one which mirrors his belt that’s a part of his usual outfit.

now onto snow day :>

at a brief glance it doesn’t seem like they’re matching but you’d be wRONG! they’re wearing the same shoes, pants and scarf, however they choose different jackets and headgear according to their personal tastes (i also wanna point out how donnie’s pants are more boxy/puffy at the bottom to fit with his whole rectangle theme, while leo’s are tucked in firmly, providing a more angular/triangular look).

leo chose a sirius black looking leather jacket bc why wouldn’t he lmaooo. it very much screams leo in the sense of his faceman attitude and his ‘confidence.’ he also chose a beanie which provides a more hippie, laidback and cool vibe.

donnie, ever the nerd, matches his jacket and headwear, as they both have the light purple fluff. donnies jacket is also much more practical and feels like something you’d see skii-ers (how tf do you spell that), hikers and snow-bikers wear. he’s also wearing the ugliest fucking hat /lh that’s reminiscent of what those occupations also wear.

so what we can take away from this is that leo will look cool whatever the weather and donnie will dress for the practicality of the occasion.

now in the clothes dont make the turtle there are A LOT of matching outfits, not just from donnie and leo, for example, in the images above, all the boys are wearing classic black suits with white button downs, however they all style them differently.

i’d also like to note the slight differences on the collars of the suit jackets (leo and donnie’s are matching, mikey’s is more rounded with a lil point and raph’s mirrors his spikes).

they all style their suits differently by using different ties. leo goes for a black and blue striped tie, which i think showcases his sense of style and his playfulness in comparison to raph, who decides to play it safe with a classic one-toned tie.

mikey goes for a cute bowtie bc why wouldn’t he he’s adorable, and it also fits in with him being the youngest and ‘the baby’, as bowties are most commonly worn by kids.

donnie decides to completely forego the tie altogether bc he doesn’t need it, he’s already stunning 😩 lmao but i actually think he’s just really playing into his emotionally unavailable bad boy image.

there’s also these matching monstrosities for god knows what reason

and it’s not super matchy, but raph and leo also both rock the singlet under the open button down shirt (though the colours are swapped and leo pops the collar causes he’s an idiot /aff)

and lastly!! these outfits. now at first glance, you’re probably thinking ‘elva what the fuck are you going on about’ BUT just hear me out!!

they both have ripped aspects to their outfits, leo’s at the shoulders and donnie’s at the waist. it’s obviously not an intentional match but i think they just subconsciously did it :>

they’re also both wearing head accessories, though in totally different styles (leo with his backwards cap to look ‘cool’ while donnie adorns a beanie to complete his LA hipster vibe)

ugh i’ve met the image limit for this post so here’s the link to the post that continues my rambling lolol

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #elva infodump #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt movie #save rottmnt #save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #unpause rise of the tmnt #unpause rottmnt #rottmnt donnie #unpause rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt casey jones #rottmnt raph #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt leo #rottmnt fandom #rottmnt infodump #infodump #save rise of the tmnt #rise of tmnt #tmnt 2018 #tmnt leonardo #tmnt donatello #tmnt #tmnt raphael #tmnt michelangelo #teenage mutant ninja turtles

[imsrtman]

Tags (Open in Dashboard | Universal)

Click here for an alternative Tag page (Open in Archive | Web Only)

▮ male transformation ▫ male possession ▫ male body swap ▫ male hypnosis

▮ muscle growth ▫ muscle loss ▫ muscle theft ▫ weight gain ▫ merge ▫ bodysuit

▮ age progression ▫ age regression ▫ hair growth ▫ race change

▮ mental change ▫ mind control ▫ dumber ▫ language change ▫ accent change

▮ reality change ▫ identity theft ▫ role reversal

▮ straight to gay ▫ gay to straight ▫ female to male

▮ daddy tf ▫ bear tf ▫ jock tf ▫ himbo tf ▫ bodybuilder tf ▫ otter tf ▫ twink tf ▫ redneck tf ▫ stoner tf ▫ ginger tf ▫ surfer tf ▫ cowboy tf ▫ preppy tf ▫ pornstar tf ▫ stripper tf ▫ military tf ▫ cop tf ▫ lumberjack tf ▫ pirate tf ▫ lifeguard tf ▫ celebrity tf ▫ animal tf ▫ inanimate tf ▫ devolution

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▮ chronivac ▫ clothing ▫ jockstrap ▫ underwear ▫ cap ▫ shoes ▫ singlet ▫ harness ▫ collar ▫ piercing

▮ fetish ▫ musk ▫ armpit ▫ feet ▫ sweat ▫ nipples ▫ milking

▮ beer ▫ alcohol ▫ smoking ▫ cigar ▫ leather ▫ latex ▫ tattoo ▫ wish gone wrong ▫ plan gone wrong

▮ unwilling ▫ loss of body control ▫ corruption ▫ humiliation ▫ debt ▫ punishment

▮ bouncyboytfs ▫ changingmen ▫ cinaedefuri ▫ doublesidedtf ▫ dreaming-star20 ▫ dumb-and-jocked ▫ dutchutch ▫ evantyde ▫ greyswap ▫ idesofrevolution ▫ makingrealalphas ▫ maleageprogression ▫ maleagetransformation ▫ maletransform ▫ mrwavellswaps ▫ newyoutf ▫ rotguttheclown ▫ tfcaptions ▫ tfhuman123 ▫ tfstation ▫ the-craftsman ▫ TravisTheDemon ▫ tyranitartf ▫ ultram0th

[spiderlyla]

Hi! Saw you in need of some fluff, and I gotchu :)

Imagine Miguel who stress bakes. Like a good half of the baked goods in the cafeteria are made by him. And he’s just so weirdly good at it that there’s a noticeable difference between some of the baked foods. But then imagine reader, who’s also a stress baker, finding him in the kitchen with flour in his hair, cocoa smudges on his apron, and with a bowl that looks tiny in his hands scrambling eggs. Those two are a power duo. Now all the baked goods are literally “sold out” everyday, and no one knows still who tf is making them bc holy crap gimme the recipe-

But it’s sweet bc the reader gets to see how Miguel unwinds and just relaxes into the baking role, and how they can move around each other so flawlessly around the kitchen. Anyways some nights end in too many baked goods, and some with more than enough flour and sugar spilled to make an entire kitchen cry.

Hope you feel better!!! :3

@nekoglasses thank you so much for your idea this is soooooo—

gn!reader × miguel o'hara (fluff)

you've made it your habit to go into the kitchen of the cafeteria after a particularly stressful and incredibly long day.

you knew no one would be inside around that time because, well, it's 1 in the morning and all the spiders usually go back to their home dimensions by 11 maximum.

so you let yourself in like you normally do, but you notice that the lights are switched on, and there is a gentle melody playing.

a familiar, smooth voice hums along the lyrics, you see his frame and you're unsure what he's doing this late at night. And...here. out of all places.

The lack of Miguel's spider senses really served you right now, because you couldn't stop looking at him.

He'd taken off his suit and was wearing his casual attire. Grey pants and that white high collared shirt with the thumb holes, but over them, he wore a red apron, with blue text reading 'Kiss the Spider' on it.

He held a bowl that looked entirely too small in his large palms, but you knew if you held it, you wouldn't be able to hold it with just one hand like he was.

He was whisking something, looking a bit too concentrated. There were other bowls with the same substance he's been whisking sitting on the white counter, along with trays.

You've never seen him so relaxed before. He seemed so into it that you didn't dare disturb him.

But he spotted you.

Frozen, he stopped whisking, the calm look on his otherwise always stoic face began turning into an embaressed one.

"So, those really good Tres Leches cakes that showed up out of nowhere were all you?" You tease, picking up an apron from the nearby hanger. Miguel grumbles, but he nods.

"I'm assuming the cinnamon rolls they serve from time to time are your recipe."

Not that long ago, mysterious baked goods began appearing in the kitchen, left to be freshly served the next day. No one really knew who was baking them but you knew for sure that some of those items did not belong to you.

And now you knew.

"I'm making Pan Dulce. Want to help?"

You smile at him, and get to it almost immediately.

This becomes your little routine after a while, baking with Miguel at 2 AM after everyone was gone. It was almost natural how you acted in the kitchen together, completing each other.

It felt domestic. To both of you.

And it made you see a different side of him, a side you didn't know he had.

"There is flour on your face."

"What are you talking about—" A fistful of flour hurled at him, covering his handsome face with the white substance. He'd open his eyes to see you laughing and he can't help but bite his cheek to stop himself from smiling.

"Oh, you're going to get it for that."

You two ran around the kitchen for 15 minutes having a flour fight. Loud, almost childish laughter filling the room.

"Okay, Okay, stop, you win!" His hands are on your waist when he catchs you, and he hoists you up on the counter to avoid any attempts at pranks on his expense.

Still giggling, you'd put your hand on his cheeks and clean him up with the kitchen towel nearby. He'd surprisingly stand still, skin heating up under your touch.

When you're done, you leave a kiss on his cheek, "Kiss the Spider, right?"

He'd move away just to avoid you seeing him all flustered, grumbling about how shameless you are.

But if he could, he'd wear this apron all the time, just to get another kiss.

#miguel o hara x reader #astv #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #spider man atsv #spiderman into the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o hara #atsv miguel #miguel x you #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel spider man 2099 #miguel x reader #miguel fluff #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel fanfic #miguel fucking o’hara