#the body starts to reject the ghost

[socialmediasocrates]

the endless struggle of "she's such a weird asshole i don't even like her and i wrote her" and "she's the product of a conga line of trauma and dysfunction" with the character of mayeari as i write her for fic purposes discussed under the cut broad cw for discussion of a wide range of unsavory themes including child death and the character herself having a hazy understanding of boundaries regarding physical contact (specifically non-sexual touching)

she's different in fic bc i didn't decide i wanted to do a play through with her until after i'd invented the character (maybe in hopes of working out some characterization inconsistencies) so her actual play through is uncanonical so that's a choice i made to complicate things for myself specifically

and on one hand even i sit here going "damn bitch how many times does someone have to tell you they don't like you constantly touching them before you get it" but on the other one i'm the one that gave her a backstory that made her need physical touch as a reminder that she is, in fact, a real, existing person who experiences real, actual sensations in the right now. she died as a child, and she's subsequently "lived" longer as a facsimile of a living woman than her own mother ever lived at all. sometimes i have to remind myself that my dislike of the personality i wrote her having doesn't just give me a free pass to completely flanderize the character. she's never been able to assert hard boundaries about people touching her, and she always feels like she isn't real in between physical contact with someone, so it simultaneously feels melodramatic and pointedly cruel to her when others get angry or annoyed about her touchy-feelyness. the line of thinking makes sense even if she makes me personally incredibly uncomfortable when i'm writing her

she's a ghost haunting her own body, and i have to remind myself of that like all the time

i'm planning on her being my dark urge play through and it'll be interesting to see what i can pull from that in order to round out her characterization a little more as i move forward

[novelistwriter]

The Undead Shop Owner

DP x DC Prompt

The shop, Nightingale Services, has been around since the start of Batman's Vigilante work. The owner, Daniel Altair, is a young man who has stayed looking like he is in his early 20s, despite the many years that had passed, with the appearance of the newest Stabby Robin, Nightingale Services is going ti he requested by the Bat to help with training him, like with all the other times he was requested to do so with the other birdies and sidekicks and the Bat himself.

The Bats and even the Rogues of Gotham had tried to figure out who Daniel Altair was before he came to Gotham. When the Metahumans started appearing, the Gothamites just thought that Daniel Altair was a meta with powers related to aging, none of them questioned his pale skin, sharp fangs, and a Thermos that's always filled with a red liquid.

Nightingale Services is a neutral zone, given that Daniel Altair has stated so many times while escorting beaten goons, rogues, and occasionally a vigilante in the past, the most memorable ones were Daniel tossing the Joker in a dumpster after the Clown tried to do something to the store owner, and Batman being calmly escorted off of Daniel's property with a warning, with Batman having some visible injuries, despite the night just starting that day.

Danny had escaped his home, leaving it for the Infinite Realms/Ghost Zone, and found his way to a new dimension. His parents didn't accept him being a Halfa. He wanted Jazz, Sam, and Tucker to be with him, but they had to stay behind to keep his parents and the GIW from trying anything.

He changed his last name to Altair, the brightest start in the Aquila constellation, and opened a store that would help fulfill his obsession, Nightingale Services. He would basically offer almost any type of service, cleaning, tutoring, business advice, managing group efforts he is paid to do, and training are some of them.

His first year in the new dimension had his biggest event being the Batman coming after him because of falsified evidence the Penguin left that painted Danny as the culprit for smuggling illegal stuff into Gotham. After that, Danny used some of his Ghost King inheritance to buy the Iceberg Lounge from the Penguin. He still has it, but the Penguin has a fraction of the place to earn some money from it when the Penguin stopped his attempts at ruining the new life Danny had after Danny showed the Penguin that he can and will kill the man if it continues, which he rewarded the man with the partial ownership of the Iceberg Lounge.

Then the Joker tried to get him to do things that would go against his obsession the next year. When he rejected the Jokers job offer, he had to beat up the Joker and tossed him into the dumpster next to his store.

Danny learned from Clockwork that his body is still connected to his home dimensions time flow, so he ages a lot slower in his new home, and the fact that he is compared to a vampire by the Hero community doesn't really bother him, he already proved he isn't one of the malevolent ones with the help from a British Magician that is the source of his headaches from his Ghost King paperwork.

Danny had to deal with each new batfamily member when they appeared. He gave closure to both Bruce and Dick with their parents, gave Jason a charm that would protect him from a fatal incident, gave Barbara a concoction that could heal any wound, slightly messed with Tim whenever the kid tried to learn about his past, out pranked Stephanie whenever she tried to prank him, plays a version of tag with Cassandra that involves them both sneaking up on each other, gave Duke some advice for his powers, and now he is tasked with both being a training instructor to Damian and getting the kid to be less high and mighty about himself.

[beloveds-embrace]

(even more designationless!reader…)

The idea had clung to you like a ghost, silent and persistent. A whisper of possibility, a gnawing what if that refused to let go, lurking in the quiet spaces between your thoughts.

It started as an offhanded remark- just a passing suggestion from an Omega medic flipping through your file, his frown deepening at the blank space where a designation should be. He’d leaned in closer, like he was sharing a deep secret even though you’d heard of it before.

“You know, there’s a new procedure. A way to synthesize a scent, balance your hormones. Might help you fit in better.”

At the time, you’d laughed it off, a dry, hollow sound. You were fine. You had learned to live without instincts, without scent cues. You had a pack now- wasn’t that such a wonderful thought? You, of all people, with a pack- and they never made you feel lesser for it.

But still…

Still, you would never stop noticing the way strangers hesitated when they got too close, noses twitching as they tried to find something that wasn’t there. The way some looked at you like you were an anomaly, a hollow space where something vital should be.

The pack never made you feel wrong. But the rest of the world did before and after them.

So, you started actually looking into it. Quietly; and what you found was terrifying.

The procedure wasn’t just some simple injection or pill, wasn’t like the time you got yourself a pheromone perfume. It was invasive- gene therapy, hormone treatments, scent gland augmentation. Synthetic pheromones would be forced into your system, rewriting the very foundation of your body’s chemistry. The risks of rejection and infections were high. The list of potential side effects was even higher- neurological damage, sensory overload, organ stress. Death.

It wasn’t just expensive. It wasn’t just painful. It was dangerous.

And yet, the thought had taken a root far too deep to be simply pulled out.

What would it be like to walk into a room and be known? To have a scent that soothed your pack, something that would mark them the way they marked you with touches and borrowed clothes and lingering words? The pheromone perfume had been temporary, but this- it could be permanent. A cure.

It took weeks before you built up the courage to bring it up to your pack; weeks of staring at catalogues and brochures, google searches all on the costs, the risks, the very, very few who had tried it.

Sitting in the nest one evening, curled between them, you hesitated before you gathered enough courage and spoke. “I found a way to get a scent.”

The reaction was immediate, though you weren’t surprised. They’ve likely heard of the procedure before.

Johnny turned his head sharply from where he had been sprawled beside you, brow furrowing. Kyle, who had been playing absently with your fingers, froze. John, seated at the edge of the nest with a book in his lap, went still. And Simon- Simon growled. A low, rumbling thing that vibrated through your ribs, curling up inside your chest like a warning.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Your throat went dry. “You know about that procedure, right?” your words were careful, hesitant. “It’s… expensive. But it can create a scent for me. A real one.”

Silence. Then-

“No.”

John’s voice was sharp, absolute. Not angry, not yet. But firm in a way that brooked no argument. A command all on its own.

Your stomach twisted, and a deep frown etched itself onto your face. “I just thought-”

“No,” Simon repeated, harsher this time, sitting up straight. His eyes burned into yours, dark and furious. “Who the fuck put that idea in your head?”

You faltered, the hesitant hope in your chest slowly fanning out. “It’s not- I wasn’t—”

“You dinnae need fixing, hen.”

“It’s not about fixing,” you argued, pulse quickening. Why weren’t they giving you a chance to explain? “It’s about- I don’t know, being normal? Being able to-”

“You are normal,” Kyle interrupted, his voice thick, pain threaded around each word. “Christ, love, what made you think you weren’t?”

Frustration bubbled up, clogging your thoughts. “You don’t get it,” you snapped, and the words poured out, raw and aching. “None of you do. You’ve never had to live without it. Never had to wonder if you belonged because you don’t have the one thing that ties you to everyone else!”

John’s exhale was sharp, scrubbing a hand over his face and beard. He looked at you- really looked at you, and his face tensed even further. “And you think putting yourself through hell to force a scent into your system is the answer?”

You hesitated, exposed under their scrutiny, laid bare even in spite of the layers you were wearing.

“You’d risk your life for this?”

“People go through hormone therapy all the time-”

“Not like this,” Kyle shook his head, immediately cutting that line of thought off. “This isn’t just hormone theraph. This is gene-altering shit. You read the side effects, love? The risks?”

You had. And now, under their gazes, the weight of it pressed heavy on your chest.

Ghost shifted closer, holding your arm, face tight. “You’re not doing this.”

“You can’t just tell me what I can and can’t do with my own body!”

Price’s jaw tightened, eyes dark with something unreadable, something heavy. When he finally spoke, it was rough, edged with the kind of steel that only came from deep, unwavering conviction.

“You’re right.”

For a second, your breath caught, because you hadn’t expected him to say that. Did you-?

“We can’t tell you what to do with your body,” he continued, low but firm. “But we can stop you from hurting yourself. I will not allow you to go through that damn procedure.”

The words hit like a fist to the gut.

Simon exhaled sharply, tilting his head like he couldn’t believe you had even considered it. “You’d put yourself through that- all that danger, all that risk- just to what? Smell a little different?”

You swallowed, and then, after a heavy moment, nodded.

Kyle leaned in, wrapping himself around you, protective. “You,” he hissed. “You think some synthetic, lab-made scent could ever be worth you getting hurt?”

Your throat felt tight, and you looked away, only for Johnny to let out a rough, disbelieving laugh. “Jesus, lass. You think we’d ever want some artificial shite over you?”

You opened your mouth, but no words came. “I just thought… maybe it would make things easier.” You admitted eventually, voice small and weak, avoiding their eyes. You’d thought… it might even make your family care.

Gaz inhaled sharply, like your words had hurt. “Easier for who?”

The question left you hollow, because you knew the answer.

Not for them.

Never for them.

John sighed, rubbing his temples before reaching out, cupping your cheek with one calloused hand and forcing you to look at him. “Love,” he murmured, and his voice had softened now, rough edges worn down to something gentler, something aching. “We don’t need you to smell like us to know you’re ours. We don’t need a scent to claim you, or to carry your scent.” His thumb brushed against your cheek, touch warm. “You’re already part of this pack.”

The weight of his words settled deep in your chest, curling around your ribs, something painful and good all at once.

For so long, you had felt other. Like something was missing. But here, surrounded by them, their warmth pressing into you, their hands grounding you-

You could almost convince yourself you were whole.

Simon let out a slow breath and reached for you, pulling you into his lap with a kind of desperate, hungry care, his arms curling around you like he could somehow shield you from your own thoughts. Johnny pressed against your side, warm and solid, his grip firm where he held onto your wrist. Kyle leaned in, his forehead pressing against your shoulder, and Price wrapped an arm around all of you, anchoring you to them.

And you let yourself believe them.

Omegaverse masterlist

[lymtw]

Lazy Days

Lazy days with Toji where you're sitting between his legs, just basking in his presence. You're laid back against his chest, scrolling through your socials, while he attempts to focus on whatever is playing on the TV screen. His arms are wrapped around your waist, securely, and his chin rests on your shoulder as he watches the movie you put on.

It's practically background noise for you because you're not paying attention, but when you're the one not focused, Toji takes the hit for it too because you constantly interrupt him by showing him videos of food with the promise of making it for him someday. You're also feeding him your broken humor in the form of memes, and though he doesn't find the actual images you show him funny, he cracks up at the way you laugh so hard that you squirm uncontrollably against him in your fit of laughter. He rolls his eyes with a sly smirk on his face at your giggles in the aftermath of your laughter, but still, he can't help but wonder how he got you.

You settle against him again, allowing him to keep watching the movie in peace, only now he sees no point in it. He's lost on the plot, and it's not as interesting without you going 'You like tomatoes, right? Or... at least tomato sauce, right?' or something food related every three minutes. His hands are moving now, his arms still around your lower stomach. You pay no mind to it because he's probably doing it mindlessly.

You're no stranger to him placing his hands on you while completing other tasks. You see his nonchalant front as he makes his way towards you but as soon as he rounds the corner, you can feel the wolfish grin radiating as he comes up behind you. He's there for a mug, but he'll do extra to show you that he's there behind you. He'll grab your hips and pull you back until your ass is against his crotch. Sometimes you resist the pull to mess with him, but he always manages to pull your body into his, a bite to your shoulder following as "punishment" for rejecting him.

For the strangest reason, his advances shook you this time. One hand felt up your bare outter thigh, following the expanse of it until he couldn't reach anymore. Then he went to the underside of it, squeezing the flesh a couple times. Your heart was pounding, but you stayed focused on your phone, or attempted to once his other hand started teasing the knot of the bow tied above your waistband.

He slowly unraveled the knot, allowing the elastic band of your shorts to loosen and give his hand more space. You think he's watching the movie, but really, he's watching you react through his peripheral vision. His hand travels further down your shorts, his middle finger ghosting your slit through your underwear. The touch is barely there, but it has your stomach doing cartwheels. He sighs, his fingers going back up to the lace trimming of your underwear. The sound just barely reached your ears, but it had a lasting effect as he continued to let his hands roam your lower body. He puts his fingers through the left leg hole of your underwear, the digits snapping the elastic against your hip.

You found another video to show him, but you saved it instead to show him later. You don't know exactly what is running through his mind, but it's completely welcome if it involves him continuing to touch you this way.

His fingers drag back down to your slit, this time applying more pressure. You twitch against him, earning that sly grin that appears when he knows he's working you up. You try to ground yourself and keep it together a little longer by putting your leg up, only for Toji to push it back down onto the couch.

"What's wrong, mama?" He mumbles into your shoulder. "Getting real fidgety outta nowhere."

"I'm okay," you assure, turning to give him a kind smile.

He takes it up a notch, allowing his hand to go under your sweater. He uses the privilege he has on your body so adeptly that even his hand placements are enough to force heat to run through you. The feeling of his hand grazing your skin fuels the fire that is kindled within you. He lets his blunt nails drag along the left side of your waist, slowly merging toward your midriff and upwards, before reaching the bottom of your bra. It's no restriction to him, he can just go under it.

He hums, feeling the blood rush down to his dick at the feeling of your warm breast in his hand. It only takes one brush of his finger to make your nipple quickly harden, a feeling that makes you feel like you're buzzing with electricity.

Toji is so well versed in your anatomy, it kind of embarrasses you sometimes that he doesn't have to try so hard to soften you up. He did so well at memorizing your body that he doesn't really have to look anymore to know that his touch is affecting you. That is not to be mistaken for him not wanting to watch his effects take a toll on you, because he would gladly watch you submissively fall apart for hours.

Your stomach tenses as he combines both forms of stimulation, a muffled moan coming from you as fall back on Toji's chest, your sleeve over your mouth.

He laughs at the way your eyes flutter shut, your brows pinching when he doesn't let up even after you waved your white flag. You know better than to think he'd let you walk away without making you cum on his fingers at least once.

"Why are you muting yourself, ma?" He breathes against your ear. "Don't you know it gets me hard when you whine and moan for me?"

You sigh, your phone shaking in your grip. "O-Okay, Toji. Won't do it again," you say in the most delicate tone. You turn your phone screen off and give your undivided attention to Toji and his torturous touch.

"Right. You wanna cum, don't you?"

"Mhm," you mumble, setting your hands down on his thighs.

"Oh, you can do better than that. Tell me you want to cum." His lips find the side of your neck, nudging the material of your sweater aside so that he can ghost the slope that leads to your shoulder. The urge to bite the exposed skin is almost unbearable.

Your hips roll slightly against his crotch, earning a slight groan from him. His cock is rock hard, but he's gonna get you off first since he was the one who got you all riled up in the first place. "Please make me cum, Toji. Please? Pretty please?"

Your words go straight to his dick. You've always been so well mannered—so good at begging for what you want. Being Toji's lover turned you even more politely submissive. Does this mean you deserve to cum quickly every time? Not in Toji's reality because he loves to see the feral look in your bleary eyes when he leaves you hanging.

He chuckles, quickening the movements of the hand teasing your drooling pussy. "Taught you how to beg real good, huh? Who knows what the bratty side of you would bring out of me."

"F-Fuck, fuck Toji," you inhale, exhaling shakily as his hands pause to switch positions.

"I could tame that side of you, too," he says in a taunting tone, as if daring you to rebel against him someday. "I'd get you in this exact position, even if you wanna be a stuck up little princess." His right hand snakes up your sweater, repeating the same process as before of exploring your skin before getting to your breast.

"Mm-mm, no," you whine, squirming in his hold. "'M only good for you, T-Toji."

"Yeah? I'll hold you accountable if it turns out otherwise," he murmurs into your shoulder, his voice like drizzling honey in contrast to the threat. He can feel you gushing even more, his fingers collecting more slick with every up and down of his fingers. "Fuck, you considering it now?"

"N-No I wouldn't... Toji, I wouldn't." Your hands squeeze his thighs, refraining from using your nails.

"Then why'd your cunt start drooling even more when I told you what would happen?"

"Toji..." you whine, your cheeks burning up.

He chuckles, "S'all good, ma. I got you."

"T-Toji, I- Can I cum? Please, please, Toji?"

"Already? I just started, princess. Can you hold it?" He asks, slowing his strokes.

"I don't t-think so... 'm sorry, please..."

He sighs, no trace of disappointment in the sound, rather pride for turning you into a sloppy mess in such a short span of time.

"You'll have to make it up to me. Didn't last very long, you know?" He rolls your nipple between his fingers, amused by the way your body vibrates at the overwhelming stimulation.

"Mhm... yes, Toji. Whatever you want."

He can't hold back the wicked grin that forms at your thoughtless, pleading words for mercy.

"'Kay, mama. Make it worth it."

His fingers make direct contact with your pussy for the first time since he started playing with you. His thumb focused on your clit, while his middle and index finger tease your entrance. His lips go for your neck again, planting wet kisses on the warm skin. He's so overwhelming in every aspect when he makes you cum. You're entirely suffocated by him and you love it.

You don't last another five seconds before completely falling apart on Toji, crying out his name followed by a barrage of moans. Your back arched and your legs came up to assist you in squeezing the life out of Toji's hand. Had he not braced you with the one arm he had up your sweater, you would have completely slid down his body and laid there curled up in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

"Up, mama. Stay up," he instructs. His hand goes flat on your chest, pressing you against him to keep you as steady as possible as you writhe in soul crushing pleasure.

Eventually, you go limp, laying your legs flat on the couch again. Toji chuckles, sadistically, at the broken down husk that remains of you. He attempts to bring you back to life by prodding at your overstimulated cunt and you react the way he expected, pushing at his arm to stop it.

He pulls his hands out of their designated areas, wiping your cum off on his sweatpants. "Hey," he calls, poking your forehead when he notices you dozed off.

"Mm..." you hum, in response. You roll your eyes open with a lazy grin etched on your face, an expression that added pressure to the brick in Toji's pants.

"Let's go to the bed. Fucking is not gonna be comfortable here." He traces your jaw with his fingers.

"I can't walk," you mumble, exaggerating to get him to carry you.

"Oh, you poor baby," he mocks. "That won't be a lie once i'm done with you."

You use every ounce of effort to push yourself forward to try and crawl away from him, but he pulls you back by the arm and secures you in his hold again. You giggle as he wraps your legs around his waist.

"Trynna pull a fast one on me?" He chuckles. "Well, aren't you precious?" He pushes off the couch using his foot to boost his momentum, a groan leaving him as he adjusts to standing after sitting for so long.

You surrender yourself to him willingly. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, getting drunk off his scent, and watch as the light that illuminates the living room disappears out of sight when you reach the bedroom.

[lipglossanon]

Dirty Little Secret

Stepson!Leon S. Kennedy x Stepmom!Reader <one shot>

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, pseudo incest, cheating, loveless marriage? lol, mommy kink, breeding kink, mentions of lactation kink, dirty talk, noncon, slight somno, mention of a rape play scenario, unprotected sex, creampie

not proofread ✍️ just smut

title from Dirty Little Secret by The All American Rejects

You thought it was love. This guy wined and dined you then showed you the world. So when he proposes to you only three months into your relationship, you’re so smitten that you agree before he even finishes asking. 

It must’ve been the honeymoon phase because a year later, you’re stuck at home while he galivants around the globe for his business. It’s not like you have a hard time, but you’re lonely, done begging for attention from a man who apparently just wanted someone to live in his empty house while he’s gone. 

Then after months of stilted phone calls and cut short video chats, he drops by only to surprise you with a son from a previous marriage. Something you knew nothing about. After introducing Leon to you, he leaves him there—some flimsy excuse of letting you two get to know each other—and is off again once more. 

Leon smiles at you as his dad leaves, “Sorry to drop in like this.”

Your frown smooths out as you take a deep breath, “Not your fault, sorry if I’m off kilter. He didn’t even tell me about you til now.”

You wince after saying the words out loud but Leon only laughs. 

“It’s okay. I’ll stay out of your hair as much as possible.”

You wave your hand, “Don’t be silly, it’ll be nice to have company again.”

He smiles again but this one makes you feel a little more on edge, something about the way it doesn’t quite meet his eyes. 

“Well then, I’m sure we’ll get on like a house on fire.”

You settle into a new routine, Leon fitting into your day to day pretty easily. He’s sarcastic and mouthy, but it beats only having yourself for company. Your husband dropped off his son in late January and it’s now early May; it’s like you blinked and realized you haven’t even had anyone else visit except for Leon’s actual mom. (She’s surprisingly a sweetheart and quite helpful even if she makes Leon all moody to have her in your shared space). 

It’s after one such visit that left Leon in an irritable mood where you decide to have a little movie night in order to cheer him up. You’re unsure as to what started it this time, but the ex missus just gave you a quick smile and wave goodbye as Leon stormed off upstairs. Taking in a deep breath, you rap your knuckles on his closed door and listen for any movement.

Half a minute passes by before you hear him walk over and open the door. You take in his sweats and loose white tee. Good, it doesn’t look like he's headed out—you tilt your head before looking back up into his face. 

“Yes?” He raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms, a corner of his lips ticking up into a half smile. 

“Wanna watch some shitty horror movies and order pizza?” You smile, pleased with yourself when he drops his arms. 

“Sure,” he shrugs, tossing his phone back onto his bedspread and pushing you away from his door, closing it behind him, “w’nna order a cheese pizza?”

“Sounds good,” you lead him back downstairs, flopping down on the couch and grabbing your phone. 

Leon sits on the cushion next to you, leaning over to watch as you scroll through the app. 

“Want any sides or anything?” You ask, attention still on your phone. 

“Pizza’s plenty.”

You feel his breath ghost across your neck and it sends a chill down your spine. Scrunching your shoulders up, you laugh and bump against his side. 

“That tickles, Leon,” you shift a little and you feel him move to face the television. 

Once you place the order, you lock your phone and sink into the couch. Leon’s close enough you can feel his body heat, but you know if you move he’ll end up next to you again. It’s something you’ve noticed over the time that he’s stayed here; you’ve only brought it up once and he admitted he likes being close since he misses his mom. 

You frown to yourself as Leon channel surfs, not wanting to start any movies only for it to be interrupted by the delivery guy. For him to miss his mom so much, he’s always pissy when she visits. Maybe he’s just salty that she let him end up living here with you? Glancing over at him, he notices you looking and shoots you a grin. 

“Have any idea on what movie we start with?”

You return his grin and drum your fingers against your thigh, “Hmmm, you ever watch Spookies?”

He shakes his head, “I’m assuming it’s bad?”

“The worst but in the best way,” you laugh.

He studies you for a moment. 

“Thanks for trying to cheer me up.”

Giddy warmth bubbles in your chest, “Of course, Leon. I know the situation probably isn’t ideal, but I’ll take care of you.”

He laughs low in his throat, “We’re nearly the same age.”

You wave him off, “Yeah, yeah, but I’m still older though.”

Lapsing into a companionable silence, you mindlessly watch as Leon zips through different shows until the doorbell rings. After stuffing your faces with pizza, you settle in comfortably on the couch, feet laying over Leon’s lap after he tugged your legs away from you. 

“No reason to stay curled up like that,” he pats your calf. 

Unsure how to feel, you eventually relax into him. If it doesn’t bother him, then why should it bother you? The heat from his lap must lull you to sleep because the next thing you know is blinking your eyes open to some random movie playing on the tv. Another beat and you groggily glance down your body at the new weight pressing you into the cushions. 

Sandy blonde hair fills your vision as you feel Leon softly suck a nipple into his mouth. Without you noticing, he has pushed your flimsy shirt up and tugged your bra cups down. Squirming under him only leads to him sighing softly, eyes fluttering shut as he licks around your stiff peaks. 

“Stop, stop,” you pant, feeling sluggish and out of sorts, arms and legs feeling wooden as sleep tries to cling to your senses.

Leon only laughs and goes back to softly sucking on your nipples, mouth drifting from one hard bud to the other with quick swipes of his tongue. 

“But mommy, you said you’d take care of me,” his low voice raises the hair on your arms, “mmm, and what I really need is to suck your sexy tits.”

There’s no denying the rush of slick that fills the gusset of your panties. 

“S’wrong, Leon,” you counter, weakly crying out when he gently bites your nipple. 

“Maybe, but I think you need this, need me to take care of you. After all, my dad’s not going to,” he growls and roughly sucks the puckered skin around your stiff bud, “you need a husband who wants to stuff your hot little pussy.”

A loud keening moan leaves your mouth before you can clamp your lips shut.

His eyes are bright as a grin lights up his face, “See? C’mon, no one has to know that you let your stepson dick you down on the couch.”

Hips jumping, you mewl as he goes back to lapping at your nipples, hands coming up to grope the soft fat of your breasts. 

“Been waiting for this,” he murmurs into your sternum, mouth leaving a trail of hot kisses across your skin, “fuck, I’ve wanted you so bad, mommy.”

The condescension in that one word makes you drip, pussy throbbing for more than just words. 

“W-we shouldn’t though,” you try to get a grip on yourself, hands hovering over his hair, “god, I’m married to your father.”

“Is he here? Is he ever here?” He raises up and sneers at you, “never around when you need’em huh?”

Raising up onto his haunches he gives you a nasty smirk, “But that’s why you have me now. I’m gonna pound your hot little pussy day and night. Maybe it’ll even make you a real mommy.”

“Leon!” You gasp, nipples tightening at the thought, hands digging into the couch.

But he’s telling the truth. Your husband is never home— hasn’t called you back and barely replies to texts. You’ve been lonely and neglected even before Leon got here; so what if it’s wrong? It won’t kill anyone just to go along with him this one time. So that’s what you decide to tell him. 

“This one time,” you whisper, biting your lip as you give in to him, “just once.”

He laughs, “Sure, I can work with that.”

Once turns into twice. 

“It’s still just the one time,” you pant as he fucks into your squelching pussy, face mashed against the armrest of the couch, “it’s still the same round.”

“Sure, mommy,” he murmurs in your ear and you clamp down on him tighter, “whatever you say.”

Which turns into three and four and then five…

By the next afternoon, you're bouncing on your stepson’s fat cock in your own marriage bed. 

“Fuck, fuck, I need it, please, I wanna cum,” you whimper, grinding down onto Leon’s dick, “please.”

“Take it then, mommy, take your son’s cock deep in that little pussy,” he growls, thumb rubbing your clit in tight rough circles. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, eyes rolling back as Leon’s fat tip kisses your cervix, “god, it’s so good.”

“Yeah? Better than dad’s?” Leon asks, flashing you a smug little smile. 

“Uh huh,” you whine, hands pressing on his broad chest so you can ride him harder, “you’re the best fuck I’ve ever had.”

“Goddamn,” he growls, grabbing your waist and flipping you onto your back. 

Pulling halfway out, he bullies his cock back into your sopping wet hole, pace fast and hard making you wail as he rams against your g-spot. 

“Tell me mommy, tell me who’s making this fat pussy feel so good,” he pinches your nipples, “c’mon mommy, say it.”

“You,” you whimper, tears clumping your lashes, “you’re making mommy’s pussy feel so good.”

“Who?”

“My son,” you cry out as he tugs your nipples roughly, “my son’s filling my pussy and making me cum.”

“Good girl, mommy,” he coos mockingly and you squeeze his cock, pussy walls snug and wet around his thick length. 

“I’ve given you so many creampies,” he sighs, “fuck, I hope one of them takes. Wanna drink your milk.”

You shudder, hips stilling, “That’s so—”

“Hot?” He slaps your thigh and you start grinding on his cock again, “these tits leaking milk for me would be a dream come true. Let me breed you, mommy.”

“I can’t,” you mewl, clit throbbing as you rock your hips into his thrusts, “can’t get knocked up by my stepson.”

Leon groans, “It’ll just be the one time. Besides, I’ve been dumping load after load into this tight little cunt. We both know you want it, mommy. Making that pussy crave to have me stuffing her to the brim.”

You lean forward, face pressing against his neck as you moan brokenly. 

“I shouldn’t,” you hiccup, hips writhing as Leon reaches underneath you to grip your ass. 

“It’ll be our little secret,” he humps your pussy, cock knocking against your cervix and making you squeal, “let me breed you, mommy. Let your son breed your fat pussy.”

“I’m gonna cum,” you slur, mouth panting and drooling against his skin, “oh god, you’re gonna make me cum.”

“Next time, I want you to fight me,” he whispers in your ear and you moan, “fight me so when I pin you down, I’ll be raping your hot wet pussy until you cream all over my cock, mommy.”

Your nails dig into his back and you scream, orgasm wiping out your thoughts as your body thrashes under Leon.

“I’m cumming, fuck, mommy, gonna fill you up again,” he rambles, hips pistoning his cock in and out of your pussy as you continue to orgasm. 

The last thing you see is Leon’s blue eyes staring down at you as your pussy milks his cock while he spurts rope after rope of thick cum inside your clenching hole. 

You wake up sometime later with Leon running his fingers along your arm and shoulder. 

“You okay?”

You hum and nod, stretching out along the bed, feeling a slight twinge in your hips. 

“May’ve over done it,” you mumble, rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands. 

Leon laughs and drops a kiss to your head. 

“Yeah I got that after you passed out.”

Giggling, you turn on your side to face him. 

“Need to drink more water I guess.”

He nods, a funny sort of smile overtaking his features. 

“You’re not gonna tell anyone right?”

You scoff and roll your eyes, “Why would I? Even if we’re both adults, I don’t think anyone’s gonna be happy it happened.”

Sighing, you push up until you can swing your legs over the side of the bed. 

“I’m gonna take a shower.”

Standing up, your thighs shake but you’re able to walk over to the en-suite bathroom. At the doorway, you turn back to see Leon staring at you, a hungry look in his eyes. You bite your lip knowing what you’re about to say isn’t a good idea, but what the hell. You’re already in it this far. 

“If you wash my back, I’ll wash yours,” tone flirty as you smile at him. 

Not waiting for an answer, you walk into the bathroom, listening as the sheets ruffle from Leon climbing out of bed to follow you.  

[greystend]

When Jason die, he becomes a ghost in the Infinite Realms.

A ghost kid, with a literature obsession and a Justice core, a big smile and robin's wings.

At first, his memory is a little blury and confusing, but by fulfilling his core's needs, he gains it back bit by bit.

He stills can't remember how he died, but he can't let Batman (who's also perhaps his dad ?) fight alone ! It's not like this other guy (who's such a dick he can't even remember calling him by any other name) will help the hero, so Jason needs to go back !

Except... apparently, ghosts don't have a lot of power, in the living world. And even if Jason's pretty powerful for a new dead, it's not enought without a ectoplasm source. The only way he will be able to interact is by possessing someone.

And even that is limited, at some point his host body will reject his spirit.

But there still a body, out there, that's perfect for him and won't reject him : his own cadaver.

So he decides to learn how to heal, to heal his body back in living condition. Or at least, in apparence.

He goes to the Far Frozen and apprentice under FrostBit. Even helping a few times with Phantom's half human part, so he can practice on a living body !

And he feeds his core by going after the people who hurted his patients, so he keeps gaining his memory back.

The day he remembers his death, he has a mental break down and execute his plan without waiting to be really prepared.

He goes to his tombstone (Jason Todd ? Why not Jason Todd-Wayne ? Why in the cimeter, with that disgrace of a biological mother and not in the Wayne family plot ?), heal all the damages and the decay he can find, and possess the body.

Except, in his state, he forgets something really important.

He healed all the things he could see, yes, but brain damage isn't visually detectable.

Once in his body, he's really confused, having barely enought consciousness to realize he needs to get out of the tomb and how.

From there, it's the canon, except the Lazarus Water is normal extoplasm and helps him regain a few memories so he start instinctively healing his brain. But so much ectoplasm after so much time starving intensify a lot all the ghost traits, and his Justice Core makes him completly unhinged at the idea of his murderer still free and runing around.

Years later, Danny & co needs a healer, but can't go to the Far Frozen because they destroyed the portal to stop the GIW from starting a war.

Danny can remember one of Frosbit's apprentices talking a lot about Ghotam, before disappearing. He can only hope he's right and the apprentice succeded in coming to the living realm.

It's his only chance.

[void-my-warranty]

Ghost Watches You With Johnny for the First Time (18+)

Service Dog Johnny Part 2 (full part list here)

Pairing: Simon Riley/Fem Reader/Johnny MacTavish Content Warnings: Voyeurism, fingering, squirting, hypersensitive reader, she/her reader Word Count: 2.8k

“Johnny’s coming over in a bit.”

Your breath catches, and the task of rubbing in your skincare goes forgotten as you swivel your head to find your boyfriend’s face. “To watch the movie? Or for… the other thing?”

Pathetic, that you’ve agreed to fuck Simon’s friend and you can’t even say the word ‘sex.’

“For the movie,” Simon says, which calms your racing heart slightly. “...and if you want the other thing to happen, that’s alright too.”

Shit, already? You swipe your eyes back to the mirror, at the streaks of moisturizer that still haven’t absorbed into your skin. When you agreed to try this arrangement a few days ago, you hadn’t considered that the chain of events could develop this quickly. You thought you’d have more time to get anxious about it first, a mission or two at least. 

“You’ve got that face on,” Simon remarks, coming to stand behind you in the mirror and wrapping his thick arms around your midsection. 

You stare at his reflection for just a second, at that cute, ruffled hair, and the soft tshirt that you were looking forward to snuggling up against. Your eyes drop critically down to your own body, your mismatched pjs. “I haven’t shaved.”

He leans down to kiss the side of your head. “Putting too much pressure on yourself. Ready?”

“Um…” You quickly rub your face and put on some lip balm. “Yeah—” 

Your boyfriend scoops you up before you have the chance to say another word, carrying you to the living room despite your halfhearted protests.

“I’m not wearing a bra,” you realize suddenly, just when he’s wedged you into his ribs and commandeered the remote. 

“This is your home, you don’t need one.”

You’ve just opened your mouth to argue when your worst fear occurs, like a nightmare rapidly unfolding. There’s a knock on the front door and Simon’s arm turns to steel, preventing you from sprinting to the bedroom for a bra. 

“He’s got a key,” Simon tells you helpfully, before yelling over at Johnny to let himself in. 

“Oof, sorry, love,” he says when you flinch. “Used to shouting at work.” It’s true. He comes home hoarse from it sometimes.

There’s the sound of a key in the lock, and your heart is racing a mile a minute behind your very braless chest. 

You haven’t seen Johnny since all of this took place. Simon asked if you’d like to be there when he broached the topic, but like a coward you’d requested he do it without you. You didn’t want to be there to hear the rejection if it happened, silly as that is.

Johnny shuffles into view from the hallway, coming from what you assume was a day off because he’s wearing jeans and a hoodie. 

“Hi,” you squeak quickly, wishing you had something covering your little pj shorts. 

As if he can read your mind, Simon pulls a throw blanket over you both. “Hey, Johnny. We’re about to start the film.”

“Mmk.” Johnny just stands there looking around for a moment, then drops his keys onto the side table. “I gotta piss.”

“Course you do. We’re starting it without you.”

Johnny rolls his eyes, and then he finally looks down at you, like he was waiting to do it until you’d had a chance to evaluate him first.

You can’t explain it, but he just has this small-dog energy that makes you want to watch everything he does. Changeful and quick on his feet, so different from the Rottweiler beside you. 

“Oh, I like this one,” Johnny says, swiping his eyes towards the TV when intro music for the movie starts. 

“Don’t ruin it for me,” Simon warns. “Haven’t seen it.”

The guys fall into some lazy back-and-forth bickering as soon as everyone is settled in. It’s an enormous relief, really, that they’re ignoring the elephant in the room. You don’t want to be looked at, or studied, or expected to perform. It’s all so new and strange, and you actually don’t know Simon’s friend very well. He’s basically a stranger, aside from hearing stories about him occasionally.

“Johnny,” you ask impulsively a half hour into the movie, “are you single?”

With some embarrassment you realize it’s the first thing you’ve really said to him tonight. They’ve done a great job at keeping things light, and you’re here, diving right into sex.

“Aye, I’m single.”

“Not by choice,” Simon mutters. 

“Dinnae misrepresent me to your woman. I’ve had my share of romance.”

“Learned that word on the way here, did you? You know you’re supposed to keep your eyes on the road.”

Their squabbling makes you laugh, which, of course, only encourages them. At this point you’re convinced they’re doing this to put you at ease, and it’s definitely working. 

You’re quite sure that if you just sit here for the duration of the movie, Johnny will go home at the end and Simon will head to bed with you, without a single complaint. But he’s been so thoughtful to set this up, and it would feel like a waste if you didn’t push yourself out of your comfort zone at least a little.

Practically vibrating with nerves, you nuzzle your face into Simon’s neck and whisper, “I’m… going to go sit with Johnny.”

Your boyfriend hooks his massive bicep around your neck to kiss your hair. “You deserve to feel good,” he says simply, soft enough that only you can hear. 

This is it. Soldier up, my guy. 

You pull away from the safety of familiar arms and walk your hands halfway across the cushion separating you from your new fuck buddy. 

Johnny’s eyes swing to you, alight with interest.

“Is it okay if I sit with you?” you manage to ask without your voice wobbling.

“Aye. ‘Bout time LT stopped hogging all the pretty girls in here.”

To your shock, Johnny reaches out without hesitation to drag you over to him, places you right on his lap like you’re an obstinate cat refusing pets. He quickly nabs the throw blanket from Simon and ignores his, “Hey!” of protest to spread it over your bare legs. 

“There we are. Cozy?”

“Yes,” you confirm, letting out a nervous giggle. It’s not at all funny, but it kind of bursts out of you nonetheless.

His chest feels good against your back. Broad, soft, and built like Simon. After a few minutes you flick your eyes over to your boyfriend, but he’s watching the TV with that set to his mouth that tells you he’s pleased about something. 

“Can I keep your hand warm?” Johnny asks quietly, like he’s trying not to spook you. 

You nod, watching his large fingers wrap around your palm over the blanket. His thumb is rough against the back of your hand, in a way that makes him feel solid and real. 

Almost automatically, your head turns to finally look Johnny in his eyes. He meets your gaze with a friendly smile, scrunching up those soft lines around his eyes that he must have developed from years of laughter. Simon was right, it feels natural to have him in your home, joking with Simon and holding your hand. He feels like someone safe. 

“You smell good,” you tell him, because you’ve been staring for a moment and you can’t think of anything else to say.

“Don’t tell LT, but I shower twice a day.”

That makes you smile, and he squeezes your hand. 

“Simon talked to you about… things?” you bravely press. 

“Yes.” There’s no hint of joking now, as he wraps his arm more securely around your body that’s trembling slightly. “You needn’t worry.”

“It’s… it’s been a long time for me since… anything.” The words tumble out of you in an embarrassed whisper, as if you’re admitting something far more shocking than being loyal to your boyfriend.

Johnny seems to take that for the permission it is, working his hand under the blanket to palm your thigh. “There’s no rush.”

His eyes flick down to your mouth, and that makes you turn your face back towards the TV, because you’re not ready to kiss anyone but Simon. There are too many unknowns surrounding this, and you’re desperate to keep things as simple as possible. 

Settling back against Johnny’s chest, you chance a look towards Simon. 

Oh, god. The look of adoration he’s giving you sends a burst of fuzzy pink warmth through your chest. This is okay. This is allowed and encouraged and maybe even healthy for your particular circumstances. The care with which he’s handled this - shoving past your own insecurities to get you what you need - just makes you love him even more. 

When you’ve finally turned back to the movie, two large hands slide up under your shirt, fingers curling along your stomach. The feeling is so foreign that it makes you gasp, turning your focus inward to deal with that lightning bolt of sensation. 

“Nice and slow,” Johnny promises, one hand splaying up your sternum, between your breasts, and the other one fiddling with the elastic of your flimsy shorts. “You’re doin' great.”

You’re definitely not a virgin, but it almost feels like it right now, with those purposeful hands accessing skin that’s been contactless for so long. He waits for you to relax a little, and then a hand gently cups one of your breasts, thumb brushing across your nipple. 

It’s so intense that you have to clamp your jaw shut to prevent the noise that’s threatening to escape. Johnny lazily plays with your nipple, and you try to relax into it, turning your face into his neck and doing everything you can to ignore the way your clit is already throbbing from just those minuscule touches. 

To your relief, Johnny seems to have an inkling that you’ll need time to adjust. He pretends to watch the movie for a few minutes, and you pretend he’s not driving you crazy with those little tugs and rolls. When he finally slides his hand into your underwear, your legs part on instinct, desperate for touch. 

Warm, strong fingers shift down the front of your pussy. It’s a firm pressure, and for that you’re grateful. He’s basically cupping you between the legs, running his fingers up and down your vulva without really trying to stroke anything specific. You’re concerned that you’re quite wet already, and your fears are only confirmed when the drag against your outer lips starts to feel slick and easy. 

“Breathe,” Johnny encourages, his own breath warm as it ruffles the little hairs by your temple. “Just fingers tonight.”

That actually does make it easier to relax, knowing he isn’t expecting to fuck you in a minute. You’re finally acclimating to your breasts being touched, when one of his fingers begins to search for your clit. He finds it with gut wrenching accuracy.

“Simon,” you gasp, and then frantically backtrack over your mistake. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean— oh-hhh my god.”

Johnny chuckles, holding his finger motionlessly against your throbbing clit for a moment. “People confuse me for Simon all the time. Common mistake.”

“Quite the mouth on you tonight,” comes your boyfriend’s answer, though you hear the pretend annoyance for what it is.  

You don’t dare look over at him. There’s too much going on, and Johnny’s petting your clit again, up towards the root of it where the sensation isn’t so sharp. That’s something you can get used to. That’s something you can chase, with little rolls of your hips. 

All that initial shock gradually melts away to aching heat as your body becomes accustomed to Johnny’s hands. He asks if he can kiss your neck, and you practically beg for it. You’re able to just close your eyes and focus on the hot mouth nibbling across your skin, the hands getting more confident now that you seem like you’re fully enjoying it. 

It feels so good to be handled like this. There’s no hesitation anymore, your clit is getting relentlessly stroked and your tits are getting squished and groped like he’s enjoying your body. It lets you empty your mind, gives you that mind-numbing bliss of being an object of desire.

And then he slides a finger inside you, and it’s fucking fireworks. Everything goes molten, your pussy spasming and practically chewing on his finger with how good it is. 

“Yes?” Johnny asks against your throat, slowly grinding his finger inside you.

“Yes,” you practically sob, because you know exactly what he’s requesting. 

Another finger pushes inside, and honest to god you almost cum right then. It’s glaringly obvious how wet you are, the bits of your underwear that stick to your ass as he works his hand against your cunt. 

You don’t even care if you get to finish, if you can just feel like this for a little while, get fucked on those nice, strong fingers which seem to know exactly what they’re doing, it’ll tide you over. You’ll be able to fantasize about this moment for weeks, the delicious helplessness of being held tight like this against a solid body. 

It’s been so long since you’ve had a vaginal orgasm that you almost forgot what it’s like, the way you’re suspended on the edge for all those agonizing seconds, getting steadily fucked closer and closer to the tipping point. There’s no feeling like getting fucked. Nothing compares, and you’ve missed it. 

Your voice breaks when you cum. You cum hard on Johnny’s fingers, wet throb after wet throb wrapping around his knuckles. He’s generous enough to fuck you through every one, until you’re limp and uncaring of how your breaths have all turned into soft whines. 

Simon’s probably watching, but that’s alright. He’s seen you cum many times before, and you did a good job today, okay? You aced the mission. You did everything you needed to do, and now the only thing you have to worry about is how messy you made Johnny’s hand. 

His fingers are still lazily moving inside you when he says, “Can you take more, or are you done?”

Quickly swallowing, you open your mouth to decline, because that was a fucking good orgasm, and it can’t possibly be comfortable to finger someone at this angle.

Simon beats you to it. "She can take more."

Johnny rumbles a pleased noise into your neck, and your breathing stutters as the fingers inside you go harder, filling your belly with that sweet ache all over again. 

Fuck, it’s inescapable. Your mouth is dry but your pussy is somehow drooling more wetness out, and you swear he’s fucking you even harder than the first time, relentlessly gunning for your g-spot. 

Your pussy can’t tell what’s overstimulation and what’s pleasure anymore, begging for some relief, whether it be an orgasm or a break from getting fucked. A ragged sob crawls out of your throat, and you feel yourself stumbling towards that edge again, this time wildly out of control.

The outcome isn’t up to you. If it were, you’d be able to snap your legs shut and prevent this feeling of being on the verge of escaping your own skin. Now you just have to take Johnny’s fingers, and you have to accept whatever your body does in response. 

Suddenly you’re right about to cum again, and you feel like he can tell. Maybe it’s because of your traitorous breathing, or the hand you’re suddenly clamping onto his forearm, but he gets his fingers so fucking deep, and your pussy dribbles a little liquid onto his hand. 

You have a split second of humiliation that you just squirted, but then you’re cumming in delirious gasps, and Johnny’s making such nice noises in your ear, like you just did something really cute. 

It rakes tracks through your flesh, heat diffusing over every piece of your skin while you pulse around those wonderful fingers again. Fuck, that was… fun as hell. 

“I’m done,” you croak, letting your head fall limply on Johnny’s shoulder. 

“That’s the right enthusiasm,” Johnny remarks, pulling his fingers out of your cunt to smooth them over your clit for just a second. It’s enough to have your hips twitching with overstimulation, and another delighted rumble comes from the man who just gave you two orgasms back-to-back.

The movie is still going, and you finally gain the strength to twist your face around to look at Simon. He gives you a highly satisfied smile, and mouths, “Good girl.”

Oh, shit. Johnny.

Unsure, you look back at him and ask, “Would you like a turn?”

“Nah, lass, I’ll just have LT jerk me off in the morning as usual.”

“God, you’re a menace,” Simon mutters.

Like they’ve both mentally communicated it, you get handed back to Simon without having to do any moving of your own body. Soon your clothes are back in place, and you're tucked into that familiar, safe chest once again. Johnny hits the head before he leaves, presumably to wash his hands. 

“I hope I didn’t get any mess on his clothes,” you mumble into your boyfriend’s chest. His large hand runs soothingly up and down your back.

“Any night he can finish out with a pretty girl’s squirt on his trousers, I think he’ll see as a success.”

Dammit. How the hell did he notice that?

“Hungry?” Simon asks, affectionately rubbing his cheek against yours.

“A little.”

“I’ll make popcorn.”

Next Part

Dividers by @the-aesthetics-shop

Chronological Read-Through Path

[valeriascoat]

His soul is yours

Mr. Scarletella x Reader

So, I really liked the headcanon that his soul/true body is in the umbrella. Don't take it seriously. Hope you enjoy!

Every new meet with you made the ghost ask the same question over and over again: why are you rejecting him?

After all, it was you, you and the people killed by your hands, that were the first step, were your hint, your tacit admission of sympathy for him, attention. Every victim of your cruelty was a direct word, so why is it now impossible to get the most important word from you that he is waiting for — your name? Why, why do you always leave, hide, avoid him? Why?

He wants nothing more than to reciprocate you, but every time you slip away from him! It's like... you don't want this too.

The same question again. Why?

***

Scarletella questioningly tilts his head to the unpleasant creaking of his vertebrae. You're hiding from his sight again. Just as he was clearly aware of your presence, you are gone again. Your avoidance is disappointing.

Moving through the rooms, he does not find you and eventually stops briefly in a particularly wide corridor. He knows it. Ghosts, forever reaching out to other people's souls who dared to be on their territory, which they have long appropriated it for themselves. And now they are beginning to react to Scarletella's presence — their hands' shadows are becoming more noticeable. That's predictable, because he is not devoid of a soul, which they paid attention to. Typical of ghosts, he is imprisoned in a certain thing, in his case, in a red umbrella.

He squeezes it tighter. No creature of this place would touch him without being killed at the same moment. Moving to the other end of the corridor, he looked with disdain at the scattering silhouettes of outstretched hands. Eternally hungry for someone else's soul and flesh, they always want to cling to it, devour it.

Suddenly, something dawns on him. He repeats his thoughts, trying not to forget anything.

"...hungry for someone else's soul..."

Scarletella stared wide-eyed at the empty space in front of him and flexed his fingers around the handle of the umbrella. If he had been breathing, he would have let out a shuddering sigh at the idea.

His soul. No one touched her. This is not something that needs to be openly shown, given and trusted by someone.

Continuing, he realizes that he did not even think about the fact that one response from him and "gifts" is not enough.

You want more.

A surprisingly wide smile appears on the ghost's face, which from the outside could seem almost threatening. But not in this case.

***

Once again, when there is a meeting with him, you want to roll your eyes in advance and swing a crowbar at him, so that he would shut up with another nonsense that clogs your head.

However, this time he is silent. He doesn't even look at you, just fiddles with his fingers on the handle of an open umbrella.

It's starting to bother you. But this unfamiliar behavior arouses curiosity, which there is no need to keep silent.

— What you want?

It seems to awaken the ghost in red from the state you think he was in. With one movement, he closes the umbrella, but still does not look up. You notice that his lips are moving slightly, but it's like nothing is being said — not even in a whisper.

If you look away for a second in an attempt to remember a word in order to address him, you feel a rustle and a light coolness in front of you. Turning your head, you immediately stumble upon a figure standing at a distance of a bent arm from you, to which you gasp in surprise.

Scarletella looks at you with his unblinking eyes. His face is unreadable for emotions, but his whole being betrays some kind of excitement along with determination. He raises his hand in front of him, holding out an umbrella in it.

— It… your.

All his actions, along with the fact that he told you this in your language, literally leave you in a dumbfounded state. Not quite believing what's going on, you look at his hand and face several times.

– My? Why is this so?

You notice how his grip on the black handle has wavered. The ghost doesn't answer your question, just continues to stare with his dark gaze from under the scarlet strands.

You frown, shifting the crowbar to a more mobile hand if you have to use it, and hesitantly take the umbrella by the middle, without touching his hand.

And as soon as you squeezed it more confidently in your palm, Scarletella's expression instantly began to change from amazed to... happy? His fingers tremble slightly as he suddenly clutches the cloth on his chest, exactly where the heart should be.

What does it all mean?..

***

It seems that the moment your hands came into contact with his umbrella, he felt it on his skin in the clearest way. The warmth of your skin imprinted on his chest, making him gasp at the unfamiliar sensations. Did you... did you really just?..

He still can't believe it, convulsively squeezing the place that has become especially burning in his inanimate body. Was he right? Is that what you needed to have complete confidence in his feelings for you?

Scarletella is looking at you, trying to read your emotions and guess what you're thinking. But he doesn't understand. The uncertainty of his decision suddenly becomes almost alarming.

He doesn't doubt you, but why are you silent? He is literally in your hands, vulnerable in a way he has never been in front of anyone. So why don't you answer anything? Was he wrong?

What are you thinking about?

The whirlwind of his thoughts stops with the sound of falling metal. The ghost abruptly turns his head in the direction from which it came and sees… That this is your weapon. When he looks up at you, he also sees your relaxed palm, which smoothly approaches his face.

He feels the warmth on his cheek.

— You give love?

Your voice sounds incredibly gentle compared to the way you usually communicate with him. Scarletella reacts immediately, covering your palm with her own and coming closer. His own voice sounds almost broken, broken, as if he was breathing heavily from the thumping of his heart in his chest.

— I give love! I give love! – he squeezes your fingers a little, and with his other hand he gently squeezes your elbow, as if trying to hold on. — I give… me.

He hears you sigh. He sees your smile. He feels your warmth.

— Say. "I love you." I give love.

Scarletella freezes and remembers how it sounds, immediately trying to pronounce it.

– I... love you. Love you. I love you!

With each repetition of these words, his voice sounded more desperate. You seem to like it, judging by the smile that appeared on your lips and the stroking of his cheek.

However, changing the position of the umbrella in your hand, the way your palm slides over it, ending up on the handle and squeezing it, makes Scarletella fall almost exhausted to his knees in front of you, unable to withstand the impulse that swept through his body.

Such a reaction genuinely surprises you, but in no way scares you. Only a slight sigh indicates that it was unexpected.

Scarletella clearly feels how his body trembles when his soul is not in his power. How vulnerable he is, you just have to strain your fingers harder. And this only excites him more.

***

He looks up blearily, his face flushed and betrays everything he is experiencing right now. Your palm touches your cheek again, and he immediately clings to it, which involuntarily causes you to have a very strange mixture of emotions.

– Pretty, – you whisper, receiving a deeply loving dark look in response.

A smile blooms on your face.

You didn't expect this development of events, but you certainly don't want to give them up.

[luvluu]

Daylight… Shuntaro Chishiya

————

A/N: heeeey! So English is not my first language, sorry if you find any mistake. I way loved this one and it’s probably getting a part two I don’t know you tell me pls😭

So almost all my stuff has a song title because I’m rlly bad with titles and it’s easier to me to name them as a song, but most times it has no connection at all😭🙏 hope you like this tho as you liked “I love you, I’m sorry”(which is probably getting a part two)

Requests are open tho!🫶🏻

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Shuntaro Chishiya x reader

Fluff❤️‍🩹

TW: none

WORDS: 942

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Daylight streamed in through the bedroom window. The faint rays of sunlight slowly woke you up. You pulled away from the sleeping figure beside you, but he grabbed your waist before you could, you smiled at the act of love.

“Chishiya...” you murmured, he only let out a moan, not letting go of you.

“Just a little while longer” he said pulling you to his body, you laughed you looked up at him who still half asleep.

“I have to go” you said, stroking his hair and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Chishiya didn't work in the summer, it was almost never his turn and although it seemed unbelievable to think, when Chishiya didn't work he didn't really know what to do. You worked in the bar of a swimming pool near your house, so Chishiya had to put up with being without you all morning. He used to go with you, pay the entrance fee even if he didn't swim in the pool despite the heat and ordered himself some refreshments just to be served by you, but your boss ended up banning him because, according to him, being with Chishiya was too distracting.

To say that Chishiya was in awe of you was not enough. Ever since he met you, his heart started beating a little faster. It was almost three years ago. You went with your little nephew to the hospital as he had to have a test:

“Walk” you said to the child, trying to get him to enter the consultation room. You were terrified of hospitals, very much so, and so was the little boy.

Since you were little, you were always forced to go to the doctor and you ended up panicking about hospitals and everything related to them. Doctors? Monsters. That's what they looked like to you, monsters.

You entered the consulting room behind the figure of your little nephew and Chishiya noticed the nervousness of both of you almost instantly. Neither of you sat down, you stared at Chishiya as if he was a ghost.

“His parent?” he asked, you were offended, but tried to hide it.

“No, no, of course not” you quickly denied. Chishiya hid a smile.

He gave your nephew a test while you sat in the chair in front of the desk, your gaze fixed on the fridge full of injections, your stomach churning at that image alone.

When he finished, Chishiya told your nephew to go outside for a moment while he gave you the results, it was not usually good for children to be around while the doctor gave the test results, if they had something serious they could get scared and it was better for the children.

Chishiya held out a piece of paper to you and told you that your nephew was fine, he just needed to do more sports.

“I'm sorry I offended you earlier.” you frowned in confusion. “When I asked if you were the boy's parent.”

“Oh, don't worry” you denied, wanting to get out of the room as quickly as possible.

“Let me make it up to you with a coffee” he replied, offering you a piece of paper with your name and his phone number on it with a reassuring smile. You scanned the paper before taking it with a small smile and a noticeable blush is your cheeks, the urge to leave gone.

“I don't drink coffee” you said, though when you realized that sounded like a rejection you spoke again. “But I'd love to go with you, yes” you said nervously and walked out of the office.

You had been together for two and a half years and you were the fuel of Chishiya's life: every time he saw a piece of clothing in the store next to the hospital he thought about how wonderful you would look in it, or every time he ate alone in the hospital he wondered if you were eating alone too. You just wouldn't get out of his head.

Summer was supposed to be when you could be together. You would spend all day in bed cuddling and watching series or movies, you both loved those moments. You loved the comfort of your bed and the smell of Chishiya flooding the room as his arms cuddled you. And Chishita loved anything that involved being near you, but your summer job fucked it all up.

You didn't need money, Chishiya was a doctor and you were a teacher, but the owner(yes, the same one who banned your boyfriend) was the brother of one of your best friends, and he needed someone to work for at least two weeks, so you, as the people-pleaser you were, you couldn't say no.

“Stay today” he murmured, kissing your lips in one swift movement.

“I'll get fired.” you said.

“Better” he laughed, throwing you back on the bed, making you laugh. “I don't plan to let you leave” he said lying on top of you.

At first, Chishiya was kind of carefree, he didn't seem to care about anything, he didn't seem to care about anything, but after a few months of relationship, his attitude changed and Chishiya ended up being one of the cutest men you had ever met.

“I have to work or I won't do anything productive all morning.”

“I can think of a couple of ways to do something productive together” he said giving you a kiss on the neck followed by a laugh.

“Shuntaro!” you scolded. He got up from on top of you, looking at you as you got out of bed and got dressed. “I'll see you before lunchtime, okay? I promise” you said giving him a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“If you come and I'm not around it's because I might stop by Shibuya today. I have to buy something.”

You nodded as you walked to the door.

“Okay! I love you!” you said walking out.

“Love you more” he shouted from the bed.

If you had stayed with him in bed, maybe that meteorite wouldn't have killed him for 1 minute. 1 minute that for him was another life.

[erikftglitter]

Terry Knows.. | Terry Richmond

After an exuberant, yet fulfilling, workout, Terry was ready to head back home. He had been jogging for the last couple of hours to clear his head before the sunset. His music supplied him with enough ammunition to turn around and head back home to you.

On the way back home Terry is thrilled to see you. These last two days have been bittersweet. You have been in bed sick and overwhelmed, and while he hated to see you sick, he loved having you to himself.

Terry closed the door carefully behind him, being sure to not disturb your rest. He made fresh chicken noodle soup before he left for his run but you were too fatigued to eat. He scanned the kitchen and realized that everything was still the way that he left it. You hadn’t ate or moved since he left. He was beginning to feel a tad bit guilty.

He removed his running shoes and began to strip out of his soiled clothes, but the appearance of your silhouette caught his attention. You were resting seamlessly in the bed that you two shared, but this time the blanket that you’d been adamant about sleeping with was rolled off of your body and abandoned on the opposite side of you.

You were wearing one of Terry’s shirts, something that was becoming routine for you. Terry approached your sleeping body, careful to keep his presence nonexistent. The shirt being slightly scrunched by your movements revealed your stomach to him.

Terry wanted to believe that he was seeing things, but he knew that he was not. Your hand was delicately placed on your stomach and the bulge in your abdomen couldn’t be mistaken for anything else. He wanted to curse at the cues that he missed but he didn’t want to disrupt your slumber. You hadn’t been able to keep any food down since you’ve been here. He assumed that you had a stomach bug and needed the comfort. How silly of him.

Terry tried to control his thoughts while he showered but he couldn’t help but to feel hurt. Why wouldn’t you tell him? How long had you known? He knows that he wasn’t one to discuss the future but he absolutely wouldn’t put you through this alone. Memories of your last encounter began to fill Terry’s head.

“F-fuck Terry! Yes!” You groaned into the pillow underneath you. Terry’s hands ghosted over your spine before he completely pushed your face into the pillow. His thrusts were consistent and unforgiving as fucked you to bliss.

“Mhmm. One more baby.” Terry growled as he heard the familiar cries underneath him. Your voice wavered whenever that familiar pit gathered in your body and you couldn’t be trusted to say anything but obscenities.

Completely turned on by your words Terry felt himself begin to unravel. The sight of your sex creaming around him was enough for Terry to abandon the idea of pulling out and cumming inside of you.

That had been almost three months ago. This is just what you and Terry did. You met years ago but the bachelor never came around to the idea of settling down. He was always there for a moment then gone in the next. You weren’t expecting to run into him again while you were in the town for work, but those eyes of his enamored you and soon you found yourself checking out of your hotel and into Terry’s bed.

The light sounds of water woke you up from your nap. You quickly pulled your shirt, well Terry’s shirt, down and sat up. You know that you needed to say something and that it was selfish to keep to yourself, but Terry wasn’t built for stuff like this. He doesn’t want a woman nor does he want a child. Terry liked to be alone and you weren’t fond of hurting your own feelings by allowing him to reject you and your growing baby.

As self absorbed as it may sound, you only agreed to stay with Terry for the weekend because it would be your last time seeing him. You were already on month three and it was starting to get difficult to fit into your clothes. Hiding a pregnancy was one thing but hiding your born child was not on the table. You needed this weekend as a form of closure before you figured out what was to come.

When Terry exited the shower you weren’t expecting his cold demeanor. He hadn’t said anything but his eyes always seemed to revel his feelings. You were now dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed that you made before he got out of the shower. As tired as you were you still were persistent about faking it.

“I see you’re dressed.” Terry spoke from his place near his closet. He dropped his towel as he moved to put on his briefs. He was unfazed by your presence and that confidence was something that you loved about him.

“Yeah. I need to head out now.” You reply as you scan the room for anything that you might’ve left. You’d be leaving your heart here but he didn’t need to know that. He wouldn’t care about that. You two were just friends that occasionally shared the same bed. He never wanted anything serious.

“I take that you’re just going to leave with my baby. Right?” Terry’s words are enough to make your heart drop. You blink rapidly in hopes of drying your eyes from the tears that were pooling up.

“I-I don’t kn-now what you’re talking about Terry.” You quickly gather your bag and attempt to head out of his bedroom and to dart out of the house, but you should’ve known that he’d outrun you any day.

“So you really were going to leave with my baby?” He asks, his arms extended in front of you blocking your path. Both his tone and facial expression were softer this time around.

“I know that you never wanted this Terrance. I’m just doing what’s best-“ The sound of Terry’s voice stops you.

“Yeah? And how do you know what’s for the best? You weren’t even going to tell me?” He was clearly hurt at your declaration. Who were you to deny him something that he rightfully created alongside you?

“Don’t do this.” You can’t hold the tears back this time as they fall down your face. This is definitely not how you imagined the evening would go.

“I’m not letting you go YN,” Terry says after a few moments. “I know that I haven’t been the best person to talk to, but I refuse to let you go again and especially not like this.” Terry removes his arms from around you and lift your face to make eye contact with him.

“You’re not doing this alone anymore. It’s me and you. Me and you.” He emphasizes as he brings your body closer to his.

[hgfictionwriter]

Discovery - Part Four

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie's feeling the lowest she has in a long time. Things are at the tipping point and she needs to choose to either confront things head on or lose you forever.

Warnings: G!P content. Heavy angst. Body image issues or even dysphoria; mental and emotional anxiety; internal conflicts; themes of rejection and self-loathing; self-sabotaging behaviours. Language.

A/N: Chapters one, two and three.

“I can’t believe you. I’ve waited all day to hear from you - and nothing. After everything that happened, you just leave in the middle of the night and just dead silence. Are you kidding me, Jess?”

“First you give me the cold shoulder all evening without any explanation as to why. Started by a conversation you began, might I add. I tell you I love you. We kiss and you literally throw me off of you.”

“Yes, I was upset and I didn’t want to talk. But you just ghost me all day? I know you withdraw when you’re upset or overwhelmed, but you don’t even have the decency to check in with me or give me some kind of an explanation?”

Jessie sunk into her seat on the couch as she read your messages again. She’d been staring at them on and off for the past hour and felt paralyzed, unable to act.

She’d managed to make it to training this morning, but she was certainly worse for wear. Her eyes were bloodshot and she had dark circles under them from a mix of sleep deprivation and the time she’d spent crying. Her teammates immediately clocked her upset and some fawned over her trying to suss things out and help, but she was largely unresponsive.

She just wanted to do her drills to keep her mind off of you and the absolute disaster she’d created.

Coach recommended she talk to the sports therapist, and while she nodded her agreement, she had no intention of rushing. She already knew what they’d say and she wasn’t interested right now. If she was willing to do those things, guess what, she wouldn’t be in the fucking predicament in the first place.

So here she sat at home this evening, in self-imposed solitude and catatonic. The apartment was dead quiet as she flipped between scrolling distractedly through her phone and re-reading messages with you and looking at pictures of the two of you.

She needed to respond. But it seemed no matter how much she thought about it, she couldn’t figure out what to say. Nothing was remotely adequate. She let out a shuddering breath as she continued to remain inert.

Her heart raced as another message came in from you.

“I’d like to think we’d built enough of a connection and you have enough respect for me to at least acknowledge me and respond. I’ve been sitting here making up excuses in my head for you all day, but reality is, you just choose not to talk to me.”

She let her head fall heavily back against the wall with a dull thud. She closed her eyes and clenched her fists as she felt herself start to tear up yet again.

The end felt inevitable, but underneath all of her fear and anxiety it isn’t what she wanted. It would be easier perhaps. Just close herself off again. Be single again for god knows how long. She was exceptional at pushing people away and pretending it didn’t matter.

Then, maybe, when it felt safe again and the hardship she was currently experiencing was just a distant memory, she would hope to meet someone as incredible as you again. But for what? So she could compare them to you? Miss you? To fuck it all up again?

She released a slow, steady breath and brought her phone back up to reply.

“I’m sorry I didn’t write sooner. I was at training earlier and I guess I just didn’t know what to say.”

“She lives. Well, thank you for replying... So. Do you know what you want to say now?”

She sighed in frustration.

“No.”

She shouldn’t be so curt.

“I wish I did.”

“Well. That’s very helpful.”

“I have some things I want to say. But if you’re not interested in hearing them or trying to resolve anything, I suppose there’s no point.”

She chewed the inside of her cheek.

“I want to know.”

“Do you actually? Because, frankly, even if I told you how I feel last night, I’m not that interested in humiliating myself further or wasting my time if we’re not on the same page.”

Jessie’s chest constricted painfully as she read your message. She never used to consider herself a selfish person, but seeing the toll she’d taken on you, she couldn’t deny it. She wiped angrily at a stray tear at the corner of her eye.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. You shouldn’t have to feel that way and I’m sorry I’ve caused it. I do want to hear what you have to say.”

“I don’t want to do this through text. It’s going to fucking suck but I want to talk in person.”

Jessie sat forward to the edge of the couch and leaned her forearms heavily against her thighs as she studied your message.

She was scared. She didn’t want to do that. Still, she owed you that, the truth, and so much more. And even if you left hating her, she had to make sure you knew it really was all her - you’d been perfect and all of this rot branched from her.

And if it really was the end, she couldn’t resist seeing you one more time.

“Okay. Where and when?”

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Jessie’s hands were cold and clammy as she walked down the hall to your apartment. She breathed heavily before catching herself and steadying them. She compulsively opened and closed her fists as she waited for you to answer.

When you opened the door, your expression was a far cry from the one she was used to seeing greet her. Instead of seeing a bright or warm smile, you looked tired and weary.

Guilt radiated through Jessie; she caused this single-handedly. She was supposed to make you happy, bring you comfort, make you feel safe and loved. Instead, she left you looking like a shell of yourself. Slowly at first, small nicks here and there, before a catastrophic and now lingering blow.

“Come in,” you said with only the slightest inflection in your voice. You stepped aside but didn’t make eye contact as Jessie entered.

“I, um, got you this,” Jessie said after she set her shoes aside and took off her backpack. She pulled a vinyl record out of it and handed it to you. She met your discerning gaze briefly before dropping it to the record in her hand. “I know you’ve been looking for it, so…”

You tentatively took it from her, a frown on your face as you examined it.

“Thanks,” you said flatly.

She knew it wouldn’t fix things or make things up to you - not by a long shot - but she had the faintest hope you would be more receptive.

When she forced herself to look up at you again, she saw you still studying the record. Eventually, your frown deepened and you looked at her almost accusingly.

“I don’t get you,” you said. “You barely talk to me these past couple of days and you act all cagey but then you do this? It doesn’t make sense.”

Your face faltered briefly before you grew stoic once more. “Some days you seem to really like me. Really care for me and understand me and we connect so well. And then others it feels like you can hardly stand to look at me.” A flash of emotion appeared on your face and disappeared just as fast. Your voice strained vaguely before you steadied it. “Never mind touch me.”

Jessie swallowed and dropped her gaze in shame. You went on, your voice cracking.

“I’ve tried to be really patient. But after the other night…I’ve done a lot of thinking and I can’t help but admit how hard it’s been.”

You sighed heavily and set the record down on a nearby table before returning and folding your arms tightly against yourself and leaning back against the wall. Your brow was heavy with a frown.

“And I know you've been trying." Your voice grew taut. "Prior anyway. And that's probably what makes it the worst. It's been hard for you, too - to be with me." Your face fell and your lip trembled briefly as you looked away.

Jessie's heart ached as she watched you battle with your emotions. All of the fear and worry she'd let dominate her fell away, replaced with an overwhelming need to hold you and make you feel better.

"It hasn't been," Jessie beseeched, taking a step forward but stopping when your gaze flicked back to her, warning.

"Do you think I’m stupid?" You said sharply. "I know you can’t stand to touch me. At first, I kept trying to give myself, and you, the benefit of the doubt - but the other night really proved that not only do you most definitely not find me attractive,” you laughed acerbically, “I think I might actually even repulse you.” You stared at her a moment, letting your words hang in the air and feigning amusement before choking back a sob. You visibly clenched your jaw before you forced another empty laugh. “That’s a fun one. My therapist’s about to get a ton of business from me.”

You took a shuddering breath and your voice cracked as you spoke. "I already know how this ends.”

“That’s not at all what’s happening or how I feel,” Jessie protested. She pressed the heels of her palms firmly into her eyes and grit her teeth. Her voice strained with burgeoning emotion. “Jesus Christ. That’s not it at all."

Your face screwed up and you gave a sad shake of your head as you stared her down.

“Stop. Just stop with the vague excuses. Just be honest with me. I don’t need you to confirm it, but don’t lie and tell me otherwise. I can tell,” voice breaking at the end. “Every time you pull away. How uncomfortable you can be when we’re even remotely physical. You can’t stand to kiss me for any length of time. I can feel you just waiting to pull away, like you’re fucking counting down the seconds until it’s over.” You started sobbing. “It’s horrible. Knowing you don’t want me like I want you.”

Jessie took a step toward you and you recoiled. She couldn’t help but think - maybe much like how she had with you times before.

“And don’t give me this whole ‘you’re shy’ or ‘you’re awkward’ thing again. I deserve more than your excuses.” Your voice grew softer. “And it’s not your fault you feel the way you do. You can’t control who you’re attracted to. Sometimes there can be an emotional connection and the physical just isn’t there. I don’t blame you. But I do blame you for dragging this out." You sniffled, wiping agitatedly at a tear that rolled down your cheek before giving her a defiant stare. "So just do what you should’ve done from the beginning.”

“It’s not you,” Jessie started and immediately saw the way you tensed up, ready to argue. She spoke quickly and urgently, her voice pleading for mercy and understanding. “It’s not you. I promise. It’s me - and I know how that sounds. But you were never the problem. I need you to know that.”

You looked ready to explode and Jessie knew it was now or never.

"It's me. I-it's my body. And I've been terrified that you won't accept me," she stammered through, hands to her chest as her gaze remained rooted to the floor. Her lips parted and her shoulders rose and fell as her breathing began to quicken. She swallowed and found the courage to look up at you to see a scrutinizing, but perplexed expression on your face.

"I'm not like you," Jessie said softly, "or most girls. Physically." She held your gaze for a second, to let you begin to process, but to give her time to think as well. She could see you were confused, but you waited quietly for her to go on. "I-I," she started, before stopping to take a steadying breath, her shoulders relaxing as she did so. "I've always been different."

She was slow to proceed and you spoke tentatively, all accusations and harshness now gone.

"What do you mean? How so?"

Jessie swallowed, eyes transfixed on the floor once more. She scratched at the back of her neck so harshly that it hurt.

"The reason I can't be physical with you is because what you would see, and feel," she looked up at you as she exhaled, "isn't what you would expect." She studied you as you processed her words. "That's why I asked you if you'd slept with guys," she finished timidly, embarrassment and shame creeping in despite her efforts.

Your mouth fell open to speak, but nothing came out. You frowned and visibly struggled with what to say next. Jessie's mouth was dry, but she had to take the next step.

"Even though I'm a girl, I have...what a guy has," she said quietly.

Your mouth opened wider to speak, but still nothing came out. You held up a poised finger, cuing her to wait. Eventually you found your words. Jessie held your gaze despite how difficult it was.

"Are you telling me that you have...," you trailed off, your gaze settling on her crotch momentarily before looking up at her, a tinge of pink already on your cheeks, "...a cock?"

Jessie released a slow, shuddering breath through her nose as she continued to hold your gaze. She nodded.

"Yes."

She saw your eyebrows raise as you looked away and her words and emotions just came out in a torrent.

"So if you think I've been struggling, you're right, but that's why," she said bitterly, tears in her eyes already. "It really had nothing to do with you. You've been so perfect. And it's been killing me to lie to you. And to hurt you. But I've been so scared - and I just," she took a shaky breath, "I know I'm not what you signed up for. You didn't deserve any of this, but I was being selfish. I wanted you. And I didn't want to risk losing you, so I just kept lying and the longer I waited, the more impossible it felt to tell you." Jessie's voice broke and she wiped her nose before pulling her arms in tightly against herself.

"And in the end I fucked it all up. And I hate myself for hurting you the way I have. Hearing how I...," she trailed off, gesturing vaguely at you before clenching her jaw tightly. "Hurting you is probably the worst thing I've ever done." Her voice grew high as she fought through her emotions. "And I don't deserve your forgiveness. I would gladly take it, but I know I don't deserve it. You deserve far better than someone who would hurt someone they love the way I've hurt you."

Your brow furrowed as she finished and Jessie swallowed once more, clearing her throat before speaking. "I'm sorry I couldn't say it back the other night. I really wanted to." She gave you a desperate look. "I know it must seem like I have zero integrity, but, I couldn't tell you I love you without telling you," she paused, gaze falling briefly, "all of this." She looked back at you, taking in a slow breath. "I really do love you. And I want so much more for us, but I realize now that even if you were okay...with me...well, with the way I've gone about everything, I've probably ruined any chance for us."

Her face fell as more tears pooled at the corners of her eyes.

"I'm so sorry. I just need you to know that you shouldn't feel badly about yourself, because you were never the problem. It was always me."

"This is a lot for me to process," you said slowly, thumb grazing idly along your arm. You glanced over at the couch for a moment before glancing back at her. "Um, why don't we sit down."

Jessie sniffled, overcome with surprise that you'd invite her in further. It took her a moment to comprehend it, but soon nodded eagerly. She followed you wordlessly to the couch, remaining standing as you took a seat. You looked at her expectantly before gesturing to the spot next to you.

She was mindful of the space between you. She didn't want to sit too close and inadvertently imply that things were suddenly fine. She sat stiffly, back straight, hands on the tops of her thighs as she deferred to you on how to proceed. She glanced at you in trepidation, waiting, but when you didn't say anything for several moments she spoke again.

"I completely understand that this is a lot to process," she validated with a fleeting glance. "While I've been thinking about nothing but this for months, this is all new to you."

"Yeah," you said quietly, still very much in your thoughts.

"And I want you to know that you don't owe me anything," she said. "I completely understand if this is too much for you or not what you want. No hard feelings." She almost laughed at the last statement as she sat here, congested and teary-eyed. There would be a lot of feelings, but not hard feelings. She rubbed her forehead. "And I understand if there are hard feelings towards me. I'm sorry I was such a coward. I just-" she shook her head quickly, dismissing the thought. "Never mind."

She heard you exhale gently and she peeked over at you. You were initially still, but soon shifted, surprising Jessie as you turned subtly towards her.

"Don't get me wrong. I have a lot of questions. And I still have a lot of confusing feelings and hurt. But - I meant it when I said I love you. So it's hard to see you hurting like this." You scratched at your temple before looking up at her. "Did I do something to make it harder for you to tell me?"

Jessie turned to you fully, a stern look on her face. "No," she said adamantly. "You were," she shrugged listlessly, "you really were - are - amazing. I guess I just let old fears and baggage control me."

"What do you mean?" You asked tentatively before holding up your hands and speaking quickly. "And if I ask something that's too much - just say so. I don't want to make you more uncomfortable."

Jessie frowned deeper. "You're too good for me," she said simply. "You shouldn't give a shit about whether I'm uncomfortable or not. But, let me be clear - for once - I will answer any question you have for me. Some will be easier to answer than others, but I want you to know everything. If you want. That's what I wanted all along, but I was just too scared."

"Well, if you love someone - you care about their boundaries and how they feel," you said plainly. Jessie looked at you and you looked away nervously, clearing your throat before turning back. "And. Backtracking. You...love me?"

Jessie smiled for the first time today. It was an emotional, watery, sad smile. But it was a smile. "Yes. I really do. And it's been absolute torture the past couple of days not talking to you - I know it's all my fault though."

You frowned, thoughts almost visibly churning before you set your gaze on her again.

"Wait. But I'm not your first girlfriend. So...was it like this every time?"

Jessie's posture slumped slightly at your question; more-so, the reminder it triggered. That you were the best and she'd treated you the worst.

"No. No, it hasn't been," she admitted as she picked at the fabric of her pants. "I, um, was more open before. And, uh, I guess it backfired. And I've been pretty reserved and nervous about it since."

"Oh," you said quietly, still deep in thought. "But your teammates know, right?"

"Yeah, they all do. Hard for them not to. And they're cool with it, thank God. But otherwise I keep it quiet. It doesn't seem like it, but I'm actually pretty comfortable with that aspect of myself these days. It caused a lot of angst for me for years, but I'm happy with who I am. Relationships though...that's a different matter altogether."

"I'm sorry, Jess," you said gently, pulling a confused look out of her. Again, you shouldn't be worried about her. "That sounds really difficult. That said, do you mind telling me more?"

Jessie turned to you more fully, your knees nearly brushing now. "I'll tell you anything you want to know. You were right that I was far from an open book, but I don't want to be like that anymore. I want you to know everything, if you'd like." She shrunk into herself a bit and waved a hand aimlessly. "And just because I tell you these things, it doesn't mean that I think you'll forgive me or something. I understand that, you know, things could end. But I still want you to know."

Surprise flooded Jessie's system as you took her hand and gave it the faintest squeeze, continuing to hold it after.

"Jess. It's okay. I want to know."

She mustered up a tight smile for you and squeezed your hand.

She proceeded to tell you her story. Filling the gaps she'd craftily navigated during previous conversations. The embarrassment she'd felt. The otherness. The ridicule she'd experienced over the years. The rejection. The objectification. And the eventual defeat; of feeling like no one would get her or love her the way she wanted to be loved.

By the time she finished, a new set of tears had finished falling, but what she noted most of all was how you now held her hand in both of yours.

"Baby," you said softly, as you lifted her hand and kissed it tenderly. Jessie looked at you in surprise as she sniffled.

She'd expected the worst, so when you looked at her with warmth and compassion, it caught her off-guard to not see disgust or rejection.

"I'm so sorry you were made to feel like that. You didn't deserve that at all. Some people are so fucking close-minded and terrible. I'm so sorry you had to experience that," you told her.

Her shoulders hitched as she rode out the dying waves of her emotion.

"Thanks," she managed, her voice still congested and strained. "Now you know how hypocritical and truly horrible it was of me to make you feel the way those girls made me feel."

You tilted your head slightly and gave it a slow shake. "No. It's not the same. I mean, yes, I felt terrible, but you weren't trying to hurt me. And now I can understand where you were coming from."

Jessie shook her head in return. "It doesn't make it right though. So...if you let me, I'll do everything I can to try to make it up to you and try to rebuild the trust I've broken. Totally understand if that's off the table though."

"I," you started, chest rising as you took a large breath before relaxing once more, "still love you. So...no, it's not off the table. I still have to process a lot of this and reconcile some things. And, yes, reality is you hurt me, but everything makes so much more sense now. So. Thank you. For finally telling me."

Jessie nodded. "Thank you for hearing me out."

You fidgeted slightly and she watched you carefully. You felt her eyes on you and spoke hesitantly.

"We, um. Didn't exactly address my initial issue though. I mean, I understand now why you've been so closed off and flighty. But, you know, none of this necessarily means that you, um, find me attractive. Because that could still be a problem."

Jessie gave you a disbelieving look. "Of course I find you attractive. Well, okay," she slowed herself down, "I understand why you thought I didn't. But, now that you know everything else, my attraction to you is exactly why I couldn't be remotely physical with you. It was...a bit too much for me. Let's put it that way," Jessie finished as she looked away sheepishly. When she braved a look back your face was tinged pink.

"Oh. Okay. Well..., um. That's nice to know, I guess," you responded awkwardly.

"I'm sorry. That was probably too much information," Jessie mumbled. She cleared her throat before speaking more confidently. "So, no, you have nothing - at all - to worry about there. I think the bigger question now is if you would find me attractive. Now that you know that my, um, anatomy is different."

You blushed deeper and cleared your throat as well.

"Oh. I mean, you're still you. And, I'm curious-" you held up your hands quickly in defense, eyes closing as you corrected yourself, "-not like those other girls. No. I would never use you like that." You opened your eyes once again, calming yourself. "What I mean is. I'm still interested."

Jessie felt an ember of hope flickering in her chest. You were still blushing, giving her fleeting glances until you fully faced her, now serious and prim.

"You get one more chance," you told her firmly, holding up a finger. "I know a lot will be new and there'll be things to navigate, but I won't put up with you being distant and cagey again. Do not lie to me again."

Jessie nearly beamed. She straightened up eagerly and nodded her head rapidly in agreement.

"I won't," she promised before she took a second look at you. "Are you sure you want to try again?"

Your face scrunched up adorably as you shot her a look.

"Are you trying to talk me out of it?" You asked, affronted.

"No," she refuted, shaking her head adamantly. "I just want to make sure this is what you truly want. I know I dumped a lot on you just now, so...you are more than welcome to take your time to think. And I definitely don't want you to feel guilty in any way."

"I don't feel guilty," you told her. "And," you exhaled quickly, "as you were telling me about all of your experiences and how you've been treated, all I could really think throughout all of it is that I wished there was some way I or someone could go back and protect you from all of that." You picked at your nails idly. "And, I don't know, that I just wanted to hold you. And kiss you." You gave her another stern look, but it was mild at best. "You're not entirely forgiven yet. But I understand you so much better now. So, I do want to try again."

That heavy, horrible ache in her chest she'd been carrying with her the past while was replaced with a sensation of warmth and lightness.

"You're the most incredible woman I've ever met," she told you unwaveringly. "I promise I'll do everything in my power to make things up to you. I'll make sure you never have a doubt about me, or you, or us, again."

"That's a bold promise," you warned with a hint of a smirk.

Jessie smiled at you undeterred. She gently cupped the side of your face and leaned in, stopping momentarily to speak before giving you a soft, slow kiss.

"And it's one I intend to keep."

A/N: Next up…smut.

Tag requests: @multifandomlesbianic @marvelwomen-simp @kathleenmikaelson

[bet-on-me-13]

Desperate Villain Danny AU

(this is a 17 yr old danny)

It started out slowly.

First, a few of Danny's less active Rouges stopped showing up at all. He didn't really notice, and just assumed that they had finally had their Fill of their Obsession for a while and would simmer down for a bit.

Then, some more of his Rouges stopped showing up. No big deal, but he is getting a little concerned for them. They had definitely not had their fill of their Obsessions yet, why did they stop?

Then, the worst started happen. All of his actual Ghost Friends start to disappear. Ember, Kitty, Johnny, even Amorpho, they all start to not show up at all in the Living World.

He goes looking for them in Realms, but he can't find any of them whatsoever. He tries asking around, but everybody else noticed the disappearances much earlier than him and began to hide away from whatever was taking all of the strong Ghosts. He can't find anybody, and the ones he does find won't tell him anything (or don't know themselves)

It takes weeks of searching, but eventually he gets his answer.

The GIW show up in Amity again after a period of absolutely no activity. They have stepped up their operations HARD. Advanced Ghost Hunting Equipment, Much more Competent Agents, and most worrying of all, they seem to know that Phantom is friends with Sam, Tucker, and Danny Fenton.

The GIW comes to his house for a Meeting with his parents, where he overhears them offering his parents a position in their Organization as Head Scientists. While there they also manage to plant Bugs in Danny's room somehow. Although he finds them quickly enough and destroys them.

And then, one night during dinner while his parents are ranting about the GIWs Labs, they mention something that cinches it for Danny.

"And today we even got to Dissect one of the Spooks! It was that Mind Controlly one, you know the one with the blue firey hair stuff that sang a bunch! We're going back tomorrow to continue our Study, this time we'll see how long it'll pretend to experience pain before it decides to give up on tricking us!"

That night, Danny packed up all his things, destroyed the Ghost Portal alongside everything else in his parents Lab, and left his house.

He tracked down the GIW Base, saved Ember from her Cell, and decimated the surrounding Area. No survivors, none of the research is preserved, and he left the Site Director alive to question him.

Turns out, the GIW had managed to Reverse Engineer the Ghost Portal from that brief period of time where they had taken control of Fenton Works. They had been using their own Portal to kidnap any Ghost they could get their hands on. Using the research from those subjects, they perfected their Ghost Hunting Tech and started going after the bigger fish.

"But good luck finding it, Ecto Scum! The Portals location was hidden to everybody, even me!" He said.

"Where are the others!" Danny cried. He was losing control of his appearance by this point. After seeing what they had done to Ember, he was too angry to maintain his Humanoid Form successfully. Even now, with most of his control, he could hear the Static in the air around him, and see the Glitching of his hands as they clenched this Monsters clothes.

"Scattered!" He said with a crazed laugh, "We knew we couldn't contain all of them, so we send them to all of our sites across the Country! You'll never find them!"

Without another word, Danny plowed his arm through the man's chest.

He turned around, picking up Embers weakened Body, before beginning his long flight to Wisconsin. Vlad still owed him a few Favors after all, and honestly his mentorship offers seemed VERY Tempting right now.

(Why reject him if you don't care about keeping your dad alive anymore?)

...

The JLA had recently received a distress signal from somewhere in the middle of some random Forest in Illinois, but when they got to the location, all they found was a crater filled with the ruins of some kind of Military Base, and so so many Bodies.

They had managed to figure out that this was a Government Site owned by an organization called the GIW. A Paranormal Investigation Wing of the Government focused on the study and capture of Supernatural Beings called Ecto-Entities, otherwise referred to as Ghosts.

As it turns out, an Ecto-Entity that had been terrorizing the local town for a few years now had made a drastic change in normal behavior and had attacked the GIW Base that had been posted there.

They would have destroyed it years ago, but this one was unnaturally powerful. It had eluded their capture and terrorized the Town for years, but they had too much pride to contact the JLA and admit that they needed help. And honestly until now, they didn't really need it. The Entity had been entirely confined to the singular town, and had not strayed from that behavioral Pattern in the 3 years since it's inital sighting. They had made the difficult choice to leave it there, sacrificing one town in exchange for the rest of the country.

But now they did need their help. This Entity, this Phantom, was one of the most powerful beings that had ever recorded, maybe even The Most Powerful. The fact that it had left the Secluded town it usually frequented meant that it was loose to wreak havoc across the rest of the world.

The JLA Needed to Find this thing, and Fast.

[bumblehoneybee]

Hey prompt here!

What if Y/N and Dogday were in the middle of a slightly suggestive moment (doesn’t have to be graphic) and then peanuts decided he wanted to join in (just by like licks and snuggles). Eventually Dogday gets tired of this and in the middle of their moment he locks peanuts in another room. Y/N tries to free peanuts but Dogday like pins them and somewhat suggestively whispers into their ear something like ‘you ain’t moving’ or blocks them so he can continue their moment.

Ik u don’t write smut so this down need to be really graphic and stuff but ye :)

Interloper: Kiss and Tell

It wasn't something that often happened. But there were things that Dogday wanted to express to you that words didn't quite cover. He could lament to you his adoration, but he feared you'd reject the idea of how loved you were, how amazing you were. You had done it before, and it wasn't something he wished to take a chance on again.

So he kissed you. It was a little difficult, in a body not built for simple pleasures like kissing. But Dogday could press his lips to yours, and once you were receptive to his need to shower you in love, he could slip his tongue into your mouth and-

A sharp pain blossomed off Dogday's arm. He jumped back from you with a yelp, leaving you red faced and gasping. In his place, a familiar little toy tumbled over his arm and onto your chest.

Peanuts, his entire body wiggling in delight, happily took its turn to decorate your face in rubbery licks. You laughed, but Dogday could only groan and growl.

"Aw-" You started to say, but Dogday didn't let you finish. He plucked Peanuts right out of your arms, and ignoring the pup's whines and cries, tossed it right out of the bedroom door. A swift slam followed, then the click of the lock.

"There." Dogday said, pleased to finally have guaranteed alone time.

"That was a little mean." You said. Dogday turned to find you stood up from the bed, arms crossed. "Peanuts wanted affection too."

"He gets it all the time." Dogday said, stalking over to you. It was your turn to yelp as his hands slid under your thighs, easily hoisting you into the air. Your hands gripped onto his shoulders as his breath ghosted your neck. "It's my turn, angel," his tongue licks a stripe up your throat, "and I plan to indulge."

[thatsthat24]

Sanderstober 2024

SANDERSTOBER IS HERE! Once again, my friends and I are creating art prompts for you all to try your hand at for every day of this month, if you'd like! Try one, try some, try all! If you miss a day but still want to do a prompt from a day you missed, please go ahead! This is all just for fun. If you'd like to share your creations, you can use #Sanderstober2024. I'd love to see! Hope you enjoy them! 🍁

October 1: Always gotta start out this day with the traditional prompt! take a character from media or OC and draw how they look on September 30th vs. how they look on October 1st!

October 2: Create a sheet ghost, but featuring the pattern of a sheet/blanket you own or maybe used to own when you were younger. - This idea came from my friend, Andrea!

October 3: A quick Google search of “keyblade designs” (the weapon from Kingdom Hearts) would show you how the weapon changes based off the property the character goes to! Design a keyblade based around any piece of media, as if the main character from Kingdom Hearts traveled there… - This idea came from my friend, Rene!

October 4: There’s a lot of fast food and cereal mascots out there… I think you know where I’m going with this. Take any of those mascots and turn them into a MONSTER or KILLER.

October 5: This one’s a play off a prompt from last year AND it’s a writing prompt! Take any famous character from a horror film, and create a nursery rhyme about them. You can make it completely innocent, or, like many nursery rhymes, remain dark but disguised in pretty language.

October 6: Take your favorite animal… and dress it as your dream profession. - This idea came from my friend, Talyn!

October 7: Take one of your favorite movies and reimagine if it had been marketed as a different genre (e.g. Hellraiser as a family comedy, Goodfellas as a romance, etc.) - This idea came from my friend, Joan!

October 8: Turning things into Pokemon tends to be a favorite prompt of mine, and this year, the category is… fast food! Take any fast food of your choice, create a Pokemon, and name it!

October 9: Take any foreign animation cartoon and draw them in the style of a western animation! - This idea from my friend, Dominic!

October 10: Definitely a sucker for fall fashion and aesthetic, so take any character or group of characters from one of your favorite pieces of content and give them a fall aesthetic makeover.

October 11: Crows collect shiny things… what things might the nest of a crow contain from one of your favorite fictional universes? - This idea came from my friend, Lev!

October 12: Take any color and ONLY use that color in order to depict a Halloween, horror movie, or fall scene.

October 13: A very expressionistic vibe for this prompt: draw the aura which you hope to be walking in during fall or Halloween. - This idea came from my friend, Valerie!

October 14: There’s LOTS of new words and sayings out there (skibidi, rizz, Ohio, ick, etc.). Google some, you’ll learn a couple new ones. I want you to create a Halloween monster/creature/cryptid based off one of these new words, as if they were the names of the creatures themself (Oh my gosh… it’s the legendary Los Angeles Ick…)

October 15: Sure, people are scared of Halloween monsters… but are there things that would be scary to those monsters? Get creative and depict some things/scenarios that would be terrifying to a typical Halloween creature! - This idea came from my friend, Jackie!

October 16: Those new horror-fied versions of fast food/cereal monsters from October 4 need weapons… take a meal or the cereal from the brand you got your mascot from, and create a weapon inspired by it!

October 17: There has been lots of theorizing in the fields of science on how the human body may evolve in order to either perform modern tasks better or survive… SO, imagine up a human evolution that has adapted to survive some environment (fire, spider bites, rejection), or one that has adapted to perform a certain task (tennis, gaming, folding clothes). - This idea comes from my friend, Joan!

October 18: So, Toy Story 5 has been announced… draw the next toy that’s gonna be introduced as a character in it.

October 19: Returning to an annual favorite of mine… take any character(s) from a piece of media and depict them in the style of a Tim Burton character.

October 20: As a play off of Dominic’s suggestion from an earlier day, take any western animation’s characters and depict them in the style of a foreign animation!

October 21: Taking inspiration from the movie, Hocus Pocus, take any character from a piece of media and depict them riding what *they* would probably bewitch into a broomstick if they had to in a pinch!

October 22: They’re giving your favorite background character a spin-off series. What does the poster for it look like? - This idea is from my friend, Dominic!

October 23: Ok… that monster/killer mascot you made on October 4th? The movie has to have a setting. Maybe an appropriate building? Maybe an entire town… Depict that setting…

October24: Take a character from your favorite movie/tv show and depict them as if they were a character in a fighting game like Smash Bros. or Street Fighter! What does their special/ultimate move look like? - This idea came from my friend, David!

October 25: Take any fun/special memory from your life and create a children’s book cover inspired by it. - This idea came from my friend, Stephanie!

October 26: Take your favorite classic Halloween monster and use them as inspiration for a new species of insect… - This idea came from my friend, Dahlia!

October 27: This feels like a classic for any time of year: take any favorite piece of media and cast the Sanders Sides in it.

October 28: [Any of your favorite pieces of media] … and Zombies

October 29: Think of a very important key object from one of your favorite movies or tv shows that the protagonist(s) finds. Now imagine they never stumbled upon it. What would it look like 100 years later? What else may have happened to it if the protagonist never found it? - This idea came from my friend, Chantz!

October 30: Now… we combine the ideas together to make the ultimate new Halloween villain! Take your creations from October 4th, 8th, 16th, and 23rd, and place them all together to create a scene of them terrorizing the main protagonists!

October 31: And, as a classic end-of-the-month tradition, today’s prompt is about celebrating the reason for the season, Halloween! Imagine if Halloween was like New Year’s Eve for Halloween creatures/characters. What would they look like, dressed all fancy for the occasion and celebrating?

Got the list fully completed! Looking forward to whatever you all create! 

[beneathashadytree]

ENAMORED - ZAYNE LI X READER

Warnings : chubby!reader, slightly suggestive at the start, making out, body image issues & insecurities, autistic!Zayne, mentions of sex, reader is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns!

Genre : hurt/comfort for the soul 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

Word count : 1.6K words

Additional notes : This was commissioned by one of my lovely mutuals, and I’m so thankful for the opportunity to discuss self-love and portray more diverse body types. As someone who’s on the heavier side, I’d always struggled with my own perception of my attractiveness, often stopping myself before anything because I worried too much what my partner would think. So writing this was pretty therapeutic🥹💗

Commissions are open here!

Tip jar!

Masterlist

It was impossible for her to think straight when Zayne’s all-consuming presence permeated all her senses. Not when she could smell his cologne and body wash all over her. Not when his hazy eyes, half-closed with pleasure as they met hers, drove her mad. Not when every single low sigh and impassioned whisper of her name was akin to casting a spell on her. And especially not when his soft lips were on hers, swallowing her every moan and tasting like sugar and every sweet thing she could’ve ever imagined, and yet something so distinctly him.

He was everywhere, his weight on top of her both reassuring and stimulating to the point of bringing her nerves to the fraught edge. Every inch of him that brushed up against her barely-clothed self warmed her skin and deepened her flush, and she was impossibly aware of how his calloused palms stroked her hip and her jaw like he couldn’t bear to be parted from her. And he kissed her like her absence was sin; like breaking apart for air would rob him of his own senses.

She’d never seen him so wound up and yet so molten. It was hard to believe that this was Zayne, the same man she’d once thought to be frigid. Now, when he was chasing her lips then nuzzling into her neck to sharply inhale with a rattling breath—as if she were his undoing—she knew that he was a raging inferno, and that she’d be the only one to see him like this, so rattled by how much he needed her.

“Zayne, closer,” she mumbled into his ear, her eyes hot with emotion. She craved him just as much, her hand reaching behind him to tug at the back of his shirt, pushing him closer and closer against her, crying out loud as his teeth grazed against her pulse point in her neck. Zayne’s tongue was quick to soothe that ache, though she wondered if he knew just how much he kindled the one between her thighs. Merely kissing was never enough; could never be enough when she desired him to the depths of her.

He pulled back momentarily to squeeze her hips, hungrily kissing her again and caressing his way back up her sides, deft fingers toying with the strap of her nightgown. She couldn’t hold back her shiver, his ghost of a touch more enticing than anything ever was. His tongue, twining with hers, spelled out her name, and she twirled the soft strands of hair at the back of his neck in an attempt to ground herself.

Then his finger had swiftly pulled the thin silk strap down to her arm, her heaving breasts beginning to spill out of the flimsy fabric, and with the slight chilliness of air on every inch of skin exposed, she quickly sobered up and stilled in place, her joints almost instantly locking. Zayne—sweet, observant Zayne who’d always had his eyes on her and knew her like he knew himself—frowned a little and broke their halted kiss, a look of concern washing over his face.

“Everything alright?” His voice was rougher than usual, and his face was a burning red she’d never get accustomed to, but the worry he’d always had for her was still there.

Stiffening at his question, she angled herself away from his gaze. After all, how does one explain that the whole idea of sex was still daunting? How do you voice something like that, without causing your partner to misunderstand it as rejection of their advances—or worse, a lack of attraction?

Because gods, did she find him otherworldly beautiful. How could she not, when she had eyes and a heart to see him with? How could she not, when he spoke her name like a prayer, and worshiped her at the altar like a goddess divine? How could she not, when his muscles rippled even beneath layers of clothing, and his eyes burned like they only ever saw her?

But then how could she explain how foreign the concept of sex was to her, not out of a lack of wanting—because she knew he was the one thing she’d ever wanted to fully claim, possess even with a maddening love—but out of a deeply-ingrained fear?

“Darling,” he called out to her in a voice ever-so-soft, and only then did she notice that she’d completely frozen up, and that he’d pulled back from on top of her, just one hand carefully brushing at her cheek as he regarded her with all the care in the world. “Is something wrong?” Pausing in his ministrations, a hesitant look made its way on his face. “Have I done something?”

Struggling to find her voice, she cleared her throat once, then twice. “No, no. Not you, honestly. Just… me. Something in my head, ‘s all.”

Again that uncertainty flashed in those hazel eyes, and he simply said, “If you don’t want this—”

“I do,” she breathed out, her voice a little reedier now. She didn’t want him to deny her love for him, the sheer need she’d always carried like a precious flame in her heart. Closing her eyes for a few seconds, she tried to silence the scattered noises in her head. “Stupid self-consciousness. That’s all.”

Zayne’s expression shifted to one of genuine confusion. “Of what? I’m not exactly experienced either, given that you’re the only person I’ve ever been with, or wanted, for that matter. I don’t expect things to be perfect.”

“Not that,” she whispered, discomfort tingling underneath her skin at the prospect of unpacking what she’d stowed away in a corner of her mind, hoping to will it away as time went on. “Just about my body, my appearance… things like that.”

Something akin to incredulity made Zayne’s eyes grow wide for a few seconds, as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing; couldn’t imagine that she could have thoughts like these. His expression was then schooled to its placid calmness as he cupped her jaw. “I told you that I think you’re the most beautiful person in every room. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

She chuckled weakly, her eyes refusing to meet his. If they did, she knew she’d lose all the courage she’d barely mustered in the first place. “It’s one thing to see me dressed up, another to see my stomach rolls and big thighs in person and still find me attractive.”

Zayne simply shook his head, and a lump formed in her throat at the affectionate look in his eyes and the slight upwards quirk of his kiss-swollen lips. “All the more to love, but no less beautiful.” Perhaps he was doing it subconsciously, but the way his thumb drifted to gently caress underneath her breasts—like even the folds and creases underneath the silk there were worthy of his reverence—made her feel so seen, wholeheartedly.

“Does it,” she faltered, then went on as she glanced at his hands tracing her curves with all the fondness in the world, her own resting on his chest over his racing heart, “Does it really not matter to you?”

“If it doesn’t matter, then I’m not acknowledging it in the first place.” Zayne huffed out a chuckle, pressing lazy, open-mouthed kisses to the exposed top of her breasts, humming into her skin and sending her brain into a frenzy with every searing kiss and every languid stroke of his palm against her tummy. “Which couldn’t be further from the truth. I’m too aware of your body. Just… for an entirely different reason.” His voice was barely more than muttering now, intense eyes like green aventurine seeing her right to her core that yearned for him. “Being that it makes me want you more, all the time. Does that upset you?”

Something ignited at his words, something long dormant that she’d almost given up on, and she rushed to shake her head. She couldn’t put a finger on what it was that made her heart swell to twice its size, nor could she name that feeling of being so utterly overwhelmed with the unconditional love she’d dreamed of at night, seeing his eyes and his precious smile all for her when she closed her eyes.

Whatever it was, Zayne read it in her vulnerable expression and her pliant softness in his hands. Humming contentedly, he pushed himself back up to press fleeting, impossibly tender kisses to her eyelids, thumbs swiping at the tears dotting her lash-line and leaving feather-light kisses there too. “Then I’ll prove it to you some other day. For now, let’s sleep.”

For a moment, her eyes flitted downwards, and she worriedly began to protest. “But Zayne, you’re still—!”

A chaste peck to her lips silenced her, and he shook his head before settling into the mattress beside her, his voice carrying the weight of an unspoken vow. “We’ve got the rest of our lives for that.” Zayne’s fingers found her brows, brushing them back to ease the frown off her face, and somehow—like his touch was magic ensnaring her—it melted away into what she knew was a lovesick expression. Her heart was hammering away in her ribcage, half disbelieving of how he’d managed to make her love him even more. “I won’t want you any less in eight hours, when I can indulge in you for a longer time.”

And though the night had ended with a layer of clothing between them, with significantly less escalation than she’d predicted as they curled into each other’s warmth under the sheets and their breaths evened out, this was perhaps the most intimate she’d ever been with another person. Slipping into a deep slumber, her fingers curling into his scarred palm, she felt beyond grateful for the idea that of all people, it was with Zayne she’d fallen hopelessly in love with.

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[bluegekk0]

Finally decided to work on the designs for all the side characters in the FPK AU, mostly residents of Dirtmouth as that's where the main portion of the AU takes place

Here's the full height chart including the FPK family members

(short bios for each of the characters under the cut)

Vyrm (alternate spelling of "Wyrm") - once the king of Hallownest, now a simple resident of Dirtmouth tormented by the guilt of his past actions and his own emotional trauma. Following the return of the infection, he disappeared in a self-manifested realm where he hibernated for years until he was woken up by Little Ghost. He woke up without his powers and completely alone, which forced him to hunt animals for food in order to survive. That was until he was found by Hornet and taken to Dirtmouth, where he reunited with Holly and Grimm, who would later become his partner and husband. He embraces his instincts by hunting animals and eating raw meat, though he is far from a dangerous beast. He owns a small tinkerer's shop in Dirtmouth, where he sells his creations.

Grimm - the exiled god of nightmares, banished from Godhome by his sister, The Radiance many years ago. A very alluring type with a past of promiscuous endeavors. He travels with his Troupe to perform and complete rituals, through which he replaces his physical body. He spent hundreds of years feeling loneliness, unable to find love due to his immortality, until he met Vyrm. They became close friends, though they were not able to confess their love and start a relationship until after Vyrm’s hibernation. Grimm and his Troupe now permanently reside in Dirtmouth, from which they travel to other kingdoms to perform their shows and the ritual. He drinks blood to prolong the lifespan of each physical body, and he has a fondness for fruits.

Hornet - the beloved daughter of Vyrm and the Deepnest queen Herrah. She grew up showered with her father’s love and formed a very close bond with him. Unfortunately, following her father's disappearance, she was forced to spend years all on her own, which turned her bitter and difficult to approach. She now struggles with anger issues and intense fear of getting attached, but deep down she cares a lot about her family. She moved to Dirtmouth following the end of the infection and now works as a hunter and gatherer..

Holly - the child of Vyrm and The White Lady, and the only known surviving vessel. A very gentle soul who finds joy in art of many forms. Now that The Radiance is gone, they enjoy a quiet and peaceful life living in the Vyrm family home in Dirtmouth. With their arm missing and their body weakened, they are unable to hold their nail, instead they focus on more relaxing activities to pass their time. They wear a prosthetic arm made by their father.

Lewk - Vyrm and Grimm's first child, a very curious and kind pup who attends Dirtmouth's school and constantly looks for ways to help others. Unlike his siblings, he shares some physical traits with the Grimmchild form of Grimm's ritual cycle, which is how he got his wings.

Milo and Asta - twins, the newest addition to the family. Milo, technically the youngest member of the family, is weak and sickly compared to his twin sister, struggling to keep up with his peers, which makes him very grumpy. Asta is stronger than her brother, full of energy and mischief, though underneath all of that there is a very compassionate individual who is very protective of her little brother.

Zote - a self proclaimed knight of great renown, in reality a lonely young bug living in a world of delusions. He was rejected by his hometown and his family, and so he traveled until he reached Hallownest. After the end of the infection, he found himself “adopted” by Vyrm’s family, and is on a slow journey of becoming less arrogant and mean.

Ogrim - one of the great knights of the Pale King, the last one that remained in Hallownest, best friends with Vyrm and a close friend of the family. Found by Hornet following Vyrm's return from hibernation, and invited to live in Dirtmouth alongside them. Leaving his duty as the knight behind, he put away his armor in favor of more comfortable clothing. He eventually embraced his long forgotten hobby of cooking and opened a small diner in the town. Liked by everyone thanks to his contagious optimism and supportive attitude.

Brumm - Grimm's right-hand man and trusted friend. Runs the Troupe in Grimm's absence and assists him during the rituals, and in his spare time directs the Troupe's music crew. He is a quiet individual focused on his job. In the past he had one-sided feelings for Grimm, now years later his eyes are set on one of the Nailmaster brothers, Mato.

Divine - Grimm's closest friend, she and her team are responsible for the costumes in the Troupe, and later also clothes for the Dirtmouth community. Once a lady from a distant land, she was invited to the Troupe following a war that destroyed her home. She's chatty and glamorous, and loves advising Vyrm on romantic matters.

The White Lady - Vyrm's former wife and once the Queen of Hallownest. Cold and emotionally distant, often comes off as self-absorbed. She was blind to Vyrm's needs during their time together, and ended up neglecting and hurting him. Before the marriage, she was the Lady of the Queen's Gardens Mansion, and this is where she resides following the end of the infection. Years spent in the cocoon made her reflect on her past behavior, and while her interactions with Vyrm these days are rare, she puts effort into being more thoughtful towards him and his family.

Mato - one of the Nailmaster brothers, he got attached to Ghost of Hallownest after briefly teaching them. Following the end of the infection, he traveled from the Howling Cliffs to Dirtmouth to find out what happened to them, and after discovering that the town was now full of life, he began visiting it more often.

Bretta - a young writer and a hopeless romantic, she used to be infatuated by Zote before finding out he was full of lies, though she ended up forgiving him. She writes short stories and poems under an alias, and shares Holly's interest in plush sewing. She has a crush on Hornet, and finds both her and Grimm to be very inspiring to write about.

Iselda - the owner of Dirtmouth's cartography shop, Cornifer's wife. She is a close friend of Vyrm after helping treat his wounds following the Grimmkin incident. After the end of the infection, she began joining her husband on his map marking adventures. She can be a little intimidating, at times she sounds perpetually annoyed, but she always proves to be very caring about others.

Cornifer - Iselda's husband, co-owns the cartography shop. Frequently travels around Hallownest, mapping each location thoroughly. He is good friends with Vyrm, whom he enjoys discussing the Hallownest architecture and geography with. He's extremely detail focused which sometimes makes him miss the bigger picture, though he more than makes up for it with his very approachable personality.

Elderbug - one of the older residents of the town and a respected figure. He's very pessimistic and grumpy, and is especially annoyed by public displays of affection, suggesting that something in his past might have made him sensitive to it. He can usually be found in the town centre or in his little garden.

Tiso - an arrogant troublemaker and Hornet's self-proclaimed rival. Lives in the City of Tears but frequently visits Dirtmouth to challenge her to fights. He planned to battle in the Colosseum but changed his mind last minute out of cowardice. He's extremely sensitive about this subject and reacts with anger anytime it's brought up.

Quirrel - a curious wanderer and once an apprentice to Monomon the Teacher, tasked with protecting her dreamer mask. Holding the mask halted his aging process, and after her death, he aged visibly. With no purpose left, he planted his nail by the Blue Lake, but continued his life of wandering and exploration until he reached Dirtmouth, where he would become a teacher to the town's youth. He's very patient and understanding, though he can be a little absent-minded, likely due to his age and his struggles with memory.

Lemm - owner of the relic shop in the City of Tears. Following the end of the infection and the city's consequent revival, he became a respected shop owner, which made him quite wealthy. After Vyrm's return, he quickly realized his true identity, and began pestering him about his past in hopes of learning more about the kingdom, until Grimm's threats stopped him. He's very abrasive and unpleasant, though his passion for history and the relics in his possession is remarkable.

Lurien - the last of the Dreamers, who managed to survive after Ghost of Hallownest chose to unite the void and become the Shade Lord before reaching his spire. He holds the position of the highest authority in the City of Tears, willing to do anything to bring it back to its former glory and reclaim all of its districts from the criminals that plague it since the end of the infection. He struck a deal with Grimm, thanks to which he is able to keep the criminal population in check.