Confession of a Slutty Femboy for the Homies

You know, sometimes I catch myself daydreaming way too much. About the boys. About being that one friend in the group the one who's always a little too close, who lingers when he hugs, who laughs a little too breathy when you make a dumb joke. The one who wears crop tops when it’s cold and short shorts just because... I like the attention.
I wanna be that friend. The one who everyone's suspicious of. The one they warn each other about. "Don’t sit too close to him, he’s dangerous." And I’ll just smirk, twirling my hair, acting all innocent when I know exactly what I’m doing.I wanna be passed around like a secret. Whispered about. Teased. Flirted with until I break and whine and beg for someone to finally call me theirs...like I wasn’t asking for it this whole time.And maybe… maybe one of you finally gets fed up. Maybe one of you snaps all that tension, all those loaded glances, the way I bite my lip and blush when you’re a little too rough in a friendly game. Maybe you finally corner me and say, “Alright, enough games. You’re mine now.”And maybe I just look up at you and whisper, “Took you long enough, daddy.”