#ftm milo

OP: I’m not as well versed with Lincoln, so I’ll give you Milo! Admittedly, my hc is the Milo is trans, so I’ll be writing him as such! Also my apologies if there are any medical inaccuracies, I’m in the field but I have less direct experience with hrt. However I myself am trans, so I write this with the upmost respect.

“Milo!” Sweetheart shouts from the bathroom, wiping down the left side of counter with one hand while the other plucks items from the mirror cabinet.

“What?” Their partner croaks out, annoyed and tired. He mumbles half hearted complaints about “it being too early for this shit” as he pads over from the kitchen.

“Sit, baby. T-day.” Sweetheart says, patting the opposite side of the counter so he can sit. They sterilize and load the testosterone into the syringe with a practiced hand, chuckling when their lovely boyfriend groans and plops down on the counter.

“Hi baby,” Sweetheart says with a small sigh, cooing at his pouty expression.

“Morning.” Milo retorts quietly. He’s never been an early bird, but something feels off today.

“What’s wrong, love?” Sweetheart says, ripping open an alcohol wipe packet.

Milo shrugs, lifting his thick thigh up to roll up his boxers.

“It’s whatever.”

“Milo…” Sweetheart says, moving the wipe along in circles along the side of Milo’s leg. They place a kiss on his temple, which causes a shudder to go down his spine. He swallows.

“It’s just…not a great day to be having to do the shot.” He says, eyes looking down at his legs.

“I’ll talk about it later, let’s just get this over with.”

So Sweetheart does. As they have for the past few years, they give Milo their hand to squeeze, holding the syringe in the other. Milo takes it, but instead of squeezing, he silently presses his forehead against their shoulder. Sweetheart can feel him that a deep breath, so Sweetheart syncs with him.

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In-

Milo winces as the needle goes into his skin, never a fan of this part. His face is turned away from that leg, his eyes shut tight as his breathing stutters.

Sweetheart finishes dispensing the medicine, kissing the crown of of his head and whispering sweet nothings as they always do as they remove and toss the needle, wipe over the area, and place a bandage over it. When Sweetheart tries to turn to clean up, they can’t move.

“Baby?”

“Please. Just…give me a second.” His arms wrapped around their waist, pressing his face deeper into their shoulder. Sweetheart lets him, wrapping their own arms around him and rubbing his back. The two lovers stay like this for a moment, sitting in a heavy silence.

“It hurts that I have to take medicine and shit just to feel like a man.” Milo says finally, unmoving.

“Oh.” Sweetheart says dumbly, because what do you say to that?

Sure, they could say something along the lines of “no, you are! What do you mean”, but they knows things like don’t work on Milo. Even if he knows they mean it, it won’t help at all.

Milo is stealth to everyone outside the pack. To the average person, he is often the most masculine person in the room with well grown muscles, a burly chest, and hair for days. His stubble is one he even complains at times, never one for large beards.

He never had the best role model for masculinity. His father was an ass, Asher’s dad wasn’t really close to him, and David’s father…while he left too soon, he was the closest he got. He was the leader of the pack, respected and revered across Dahlia despite his cheerful attitude and loving nature. Milo looked up to him, but couldn’t help but compare himself to his peers, his brothers.

He envied how easy masculinity came to people like David, big and tall and respected, or how Asher can feel so comfortable in his manhood to where he could wear his hair long, play with his fashion, or wear pink! It feels so stupid but even now, Milo can’t bring himself to put it on some days.

His head spins with these thoughts sometimes. Some days he looks in the mirror and could cry at how…right everything looks. But other days, he wakes up and just wants to rip his skin off. He looks at every curve and scar that stick out like a giant glowing sign screaming “girl”, “woman”, “not a real man”! Many of them aren’t even possibly noticeable to the average person. But they are to him, so that’s all that fucking matters!

It’s gotten to the point where sometimes he hates how similar he looks to his mother. He’s heard the comparison since he was a small child, and often takes pride in it. Thank God he looks nothing like his deadbeat of a father. He feels blessed to bear the face of a woman who has sacrificed so much for him, and is honestly the backbone of his pack. Not a single child of the pack has ever been deprived of her love.

But sometimes, he looks at her and sees the woman he failed to be. The daughter he never was. His mother never once made him feel less than, accepting him as her only beloved son the second she got to finally meet him. But he feels like he does all the mourning for her, grieving a person that is still alive, more than he’s ever been.

So when these thoughts hit him like a truck bright and early, he can’t help but spiral. When his loving partner, who has viewed him as nothing less than the man he is, calls for him to take a routine shot that he’s been taking for years just to feel like himself, it just adds salt to the wound. And he wish it didn’t.

Nothing in his head is anything he hasn’t told them before. And he doesn’t think that repeating it all over again will help right now. So when his partner replies with nothing but an “Oh.”, he chuckles sadly.

After a few moments, he hears them speak again.

“What do you need? How can I help?” They ask in a tone that makes his heart squeeze.

“Honestly? Just to get out of my head. A distraction.” He say, lifting his head with a sigh. Sweetheart cups his cheeks in their hands, and he knows that they can feel the warmth under them. He feels those damn cheeks get warmer as their thumbs caress over his cheekbones.

“You’re blushing.”

“I know,” Milo chuckles again, rolling his charming green eyes.

“Can I be greedy?”

“My baby is sad. Of course he can be greedy.” Sweetheart says, chuckling as well.

“What’s your request?”

“I know I haven’t really been all that in the mood recently — I’m sure you can guess why — but I’d kinda like to have your mouth on me. Is that…alright to ask?” Milo asks, more bashful than usual.

“What, you shy or something?” Sweetheart pokes at him.

“Sweetheart!” He groans, dropping his head back in compliant. Sweetheart takes this as an opportunity to press a languid kiss at the center of throat, earning a growly moan out of the shifter. Sweetheart traces down his neck and shoulder, grateful that their boyfriend sleeps shirtless.

“Yes, Milo?” Sweetheart purrs, holding one of his pecs in their hands, massaging over his nipple with their thumb.

“You’re an ass, and you know it. So much for makin’ me feel better.” Milo grits out, his voice catching in his chest as he tries to quiet his moans. He looks down at his partner as they trace kisses down his stomach. They lay their tongue flatly on it, licking up his happy trail with their eyes trained on him.

“I aim to make you feel better.” Sweetheart says, pressing their hand flat on his chest, ushering him to lean back. He listens, jutting his hips forward a bit. His sex presses against Sweetheart’s lips, earning a sharp breath from him.

“Fuck, you’re already hard?” Sweetheart giggles, pressing kisses through the fabric covering his cock. Milo groans, a soft “quit teasin’ me…” floating through the air.

“But it’s fun.” Sweetheart chuckles, kissing the inside of his thighs as their fingers stroke up and down Milo’s growing cock. He whimpers a bit, his hips bucking. Sweetheart bites into his flesh.

“Shit!” Milo’s hand finds the top of Sweetheart’s head. “Baby, sweetheart, honey…please. We g-gotta get the day started. We can’t spend it all torturing me, r-right?”

Sweetheart looks up, giving him a look that says “yes, I can and would”. He gulps. But luckily, before he realizes, his boxers are being pulled down his legs and the cold air is hitting him directly. He shudders, before the cold is quickly replaced by a deep, soothing warmth.

Milo hangs his head back as he always does, a deep, rumbling moan escaping his mouth as his baby gets to work. Sweetheart suckles on his cock, licking up and down the length, before their tongue moves deeper into his core, lapping up the evidence of his pleasure.

“You taste amazing, handsome.” Sweetheart says, before kissing his tip. They take a good look at him.

“Damn, it’s so cool to watch you grow when you’re aroused. You get so big, it’s insane.”

Milo looks down, really looks down, and sure enough, he is bigger than he thought. He has to be at least 5 inches, which isn’t even possible for the average human. Good thing shifters are well-endowed. He doesn’t like looking in that area much, but right now when he does he feels so much all at once.

He feels handsome.

He feels happy.

He feels even hornier than before.

His eyes droop a bit, and he runs his hand along Sweetheart’s face.

“Well, it’s basically begging for your attention. You’d better get back to work, sweetcheeks.” He says, gusto back.

Sweetheart’s mouth get back to work, and slowly their fingers join, making Milo melt under them. His baby takes care of him so well, and he couldn’t feel more happy.

Watching their head bobble as they suck his cock off makes him feel so proud, he could puff his chest out. (Jesus, the wolf inside never really chills out, does it?)

It takes everything in him not to grab Sweetheart’s head and push it deeper into him. Before he can even realize, he’s coming, the result of which splashing all long Sweetheart’s hand as it pumps him until he’s begging them to stop.

Sweetheart licks up his sex in a slow, flat motion, cleaning him up. They chuckle happily as they do so, before looking up at him.

“Better?” They say, standing up. Milo answers them by pulling them into a kiss, deep and hungry. He growls into it, tasting himself on their tongue. He reels in how Sweetheart’s hands scratch against the base of his neck, playing with his chain.

Once they break, he smiles at them.

“Yes. Much better. You want me to return the favor?” He says, kissing the tip of their nose.

“Breakfast?” Sweetheart asks sweetly, earning a hearty laugh out of Milo.

“Of course.”