#trans boy reader

[minhosbitterriver]

🫐 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐓 𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐖 ( p1harmony )

❛ In which you undergo a profoundly personal transformation with the support of your doting boyfriend, Jongseob.

𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐛 + trans boy reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.6k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 6 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ Definitely at the very top of my favorite pieces I've worked on, it was so incredibly self-indulgent (I'm masc non-binary, for context). Am I the only one who gets insane gender envy whenever I look at him? Anyway, this piece was requested by my wonderful 🩷 Anon! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated! Requests are currently open! Enjoy! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Established relationship, Y/N recently came out as a trans guy, Jongseob cuts your hair, non-sexual partial nudity, Jongseob helps you put on your new trans-tape, mentions of anxiety and relief, extremely soft fluff.

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )

꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!

Your formerly long hair lies scattered on the bathroom floor, a silent testament to the transformative act that has just taken place. The once familiar cascade of locks is now a mere memory, replaced by a new, lighter version of yourself. Your gaze meets the mirror, and you are confronted with an image that is almost foreign yet curiously comforting. There is something soothing about the new reflection, a symbol of change and renewal that resonates deeply within you.

Jongseob stands behind you, his presence a steady anchor amidst the sea of change. His eyes are soft with a mixture of care and concentration as his fingers navigate through your wet hair. He holds a pair of scissors with a gentle grip, every snip measured and deliberate. The usual meticulousness he brings to everything is evident in the way he trims your hair, his subtle anxiety betraying his desire for perfection. It’s clear he wants this moment to be as perfect for you as it is significant, his love and attention to detail blending seamlessly into his every movement.

On your bed, the brand new roll of trans tape he’d ordered online sits untouched in its packaging. It is a tangible reminder of the heartfelt surprise Jongseob prepared for you after you confided your greatest secret to him. The gesture, though seemingly small, carries a weight of emotional significance—a symbol of his unwavering support and the deep bond you both share. It is a testament to his understanding and acceptance, a touching affirmation of his commitment to stand by you through every step of your journey.

As Jongseob finishes the impromptu haircut, a grin spreads across his face, reflecting in the mirror. His hands gently scrunch up your freshly cut hair, molding it into soft curls that will dry into a new shape. The satisfaction in his expression is palpable, his pride in the results evident as he admires his handiwork. The moment is imbued with a sense of shared triumph and intimacy, a celebration of not just a physical transformation but the deepening of your relationship—a bond that has grown stronger through vulnerability and trust.

“What do you think?” Jongseob asks, his voice floating in from a realm that feels almost distant compared to the whirlwind of emotions you are experiencing. The question hangs in the air, mingling with the sound of your pounding heart, which feels as though it might escape from your chest at any moment. The change in your appearance, marked by the dramatic reduction in your hair's length, has an almost liberating effect. It feels as though a heavy burden has been lifted, replaced by a newfound lightness and freedom.

As you turn to face Jongseob, your face lights up with a smile that seems to stretch wider than you ever thought possible. It’s a genuine, unrestrained expression of joy and relief, radiating across your features with an intensity that is both beautiful and profound. The act of hugging Jongseob tightly becomes a physical manifestation of the immense gratitude and affection you feel for him. It’s a silent thank you wrapped in the warmth of your embrace, a way of conveying the depth of your emotional release and the significance of his support.

In that tight hug, you find solace and a shared moment of triumph, your new look symbolizing not just a change in appearance but a step towards embracing a truer version of yourself. Jongseob’s presence, so close and reassuring, anchors you in this moment of personal victory, making it all the more meaningful. The joy and relief you feel are mirrored in the closeness of your embrace, a tender affirmation of the bond that strengthens with each shared experience.

The remnants of your once long hair lie scattered across the bathroom tiles, a silent testament to the transformation that has just taken place. As you peel off your shirt, revealing your bare torso, you feel a sense of liberation. The act of shedding your clothes, like the shedding of your hair, symbolizes a deeper release, an embrace of your truest self.

Jongseob is absorbed in the task of unwrapping the trans tape, his voice a soothing murmur as he explains the proper way to use it. His words flow continuously, a gentle reminder of his care and dedication, but your focus drifts with each step he takes closer to you. The proximity of his presence is comforting, though it makes it hard to concentrate on anything but the fluttering emotions within you.

Every now and then, Jongseob steals a kiss on your cheeks and jaw, each touch tender and affectionate. The gentle press of his lips against your skin makes you giggle, the sound light and joyful. He carefully tapes the fabric onto your chest, his movements deliberate and attentive. You watch him through the full-length mirror you own, observing the way his expressions shift with concentration and care.

By the time Jongseob finishes his task, you are overwhelmed by a surge of emotion. The euphoric difference the tape makes is almost too much to contain, and you find yourself pushing back tears. The sight of your new appearance, paired with Jongseob’s loving attention, brings an intense wave of relief and happiness. The emotional weight of the moment is palpable, a mixture of joy and gratitude that touches the core of your being.

“You look so handsome,” Jongseob whispers into your ear, his breath warm and intimate against your skin. He stands behind you, his arms encircling your waist in a loving embrace. As you catch glimpses of him through the mirror, his eyes are alight with a depth of love and admiration that makes your heart flutter uncontrollably. The intensity of his gaze and the sincerity of his words make it impossible for you to maintain eye contact, and you find yourself looking away, overwhelmed by a soaring sense of joy.

Without waiting for a response, Jongseob moves towards your bed, where your carefully chosen outfit lies neatly. He picks up your brand new shirt with a sense of purpose, his movements smooth and deliberate. As he helps you put it on, the sight of your chest appearing flatter and more aligned with your true self fills you with an overwhelming emotion. The change is profound, and the reality of it tugs at your heartstrings, causing tears to well up uncontrollably.

Jongseob holds you close, his words a gentle, repetitive murmur that reassures you of his pride and admiration. “I’m so proud of you,” he repeats, each phrase infused with genuine affection. As he kisses the side of your head repeatedly, the touch of his lips is both soothing and affirming, reinforcing the bond you share and the significance of the moment. His tender embrace and heartfelt praise become a sanctuary, enveloping you in a cocoon of love and validation as you navigate the depth of your emotions.

As you finish dressing, you find yourself captivated by your new, masculine appearance. The reflection in the mirror reveals a transformation that feels both affirming and exhilarating. Your gaze is interrupted when Jongseob excuses himself into the bathroom, carrying his familiar backpack filled with spare clothes. The wait feels interminable, each minute stretching into what feels like an hour as anticipation builds.

When Jongseob finally emerges, the sight before you brings tears to your eyes all over again. His long blond hair has been styled into whimsical space-buns, adding a touch of playful charm to his look. He’s applied white mascara and a hint of blush, enhancing his features with a subtle yet striking glow. The pink sunglasses perched on his nose add a splash of color and fun. He wears a black and white striped sweater, its distressed holes lending it a well-loved, worn feel. Completing the ensemble is a long, flowy black skirt that swirls gracefully with each movement.

Jongseob’s grin is a mixture of excitement and nervousness, a reflection of his own emotional journey. As you take in his transformed appearance, you feel an overwhelming surge of affection and admiration. You rush to embrace him tightly, the hug conveying a depth of emotion that words alone cannot capture. “You look so beautiful,” you tell him, your voice filled with heartfelt sincerity.

His cheeks flush with a rosy blush at your compliment, the effect of your words visibly touching him. The warmth of his blush and the radiance of his smile combine to create a moment of shared joy and mutual admiration. The connection between you is palpable, the exchange of affirmations deepening the bond you share and celebrating the beauty of each other's true selves.

With both of you ready, you set out for a nearby park, the anticipation of the evening adding a lightness to your steps. The park, bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun, provides a picturesque backdrop for your picnic. You find a cozy spot on the grass, spreading out your blanket and settling in.

As you begin to enjoy the picnic, the conversation flows effortlessly between you. There’s a natural ease in your dialogue, a comfortable rhythm that makes the moments feel both intimate and joyous. The simple pleasure of feeding each other blueberries becomes a delightful ritual, the small, sweet bursts of flavor adding to the sense of shared contentment.

The sun dips lower on the horizon, casting a warm, amber glow over the park. The soft light reflects off Jongseob’s face, highlighting his features with a gentle radiance. Each laugh and smile is amplified by the serene setting, the beauty of the moment enriched by the perfect harmony of your company and the tranquil surroundings.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ My permanent taglist is open! (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS! STAYBLR FUNDRAISER!

[henrioo]

WHY IS SO FUCKING HARD PUT A "FEM" IN FRONT OF THE "READER"???????

NOT EVERYONE IN THIS FUCKING SITE IS A FEM OR USES FEM PRONOUNS YOU DUMB BITCH

NOT EVERYONE WANTS TO READ HALF OF A HISTORY ONLY TO GET A FEM NICKNAME OR A FEM PRONOUN THAT YOU TAKE OFF YOUR ASS

JUST PUT THE FUCKING FEM READER YOU ASSHOLE YOU NOT GOING TO DIE IF YOU PUT THREE FUCKING LETTERS IN FRONT THE READER

IS SO FUCKING HARD DEFENDING SOME AUTHORS BECAUSE THEY CONTINUE BEING DUMB

SOME MASC PEOPLE HAVE A FUCKING DYSPHORIA OR THEY DAY RUINED BY THAT

YOU WON'T LIKE IF WAS A MALE READER WITHOUT SAYING IS MALE, THEN PUT THE FEM READER BECAUSE WE DON'T LIKE EITHER

[nosyrobin]

“Pregnant meme”

Pair: platonic! Supersons + Transmasc! Amazon reader

Genre: comedy/incorrect quotes

Source: MPGIS

Jon: *is running towards Wonderboy!reader* No, no, no.

Dick: *talking to reader* I mean it was good! It wasn't great...

Reader who notices Jon: Hey Jon—

Jon punches reader in the stomach

Wonderboy!reader: What the fuck?!

The Amazon male crouched down holding his stomach as Jon frowns with Dick having his hand cover his mouth.

Jon: You are one of my very best friends and i cannot stand by and watch you throw away your life like this

Jon: *cups reader’s face* You’re too young! You're too beautiful!

Wonderboy!reader who gets up by dick’s help: What the fuck are you talking about??

Jon: *points to reader’s stomach* Im talking bout the baby thats growing inside ur belly right now

Dick who now feels uncomfortable about what’s happening: See ya *leaves room*

Wonderboy!reader: …. *grabs Jon by his shirt* IM NOT PREGNANT!

Jon: *gently pushes reader from him with a smile* well not after that punch you’re not.

Jon: I’ve been taking Muay Thai classes

Wonderboy!reader who massages his forehead: I was never pregnant Jonathan.

Jon: *raises brow* Are you sure?

Wonderboy!reader: Yes im fucking sure!

Damian now bursts in the room with an annoyed face. The two supersons looks at the tanned boy.

Damian: im sorry but why the fuck is everybody yelling over here?

Jon: *pulls out pregnancy test* Oh i found this positive pregnancy test and there were—

Damian immediately punches the Amazon male’s stomach. Reader holds his stomach while falling to the ground.

Wonderboy!reader: OH MOTHERFUCKER!

[milfdayz]

fucking someone to the point they go from talking back and being bratty to being a nonverbal whimpering mess is a need

[whimperingforher]

>:3

[werecreature-addicted]

tentacle monster pumping you full of bimbo juice?

himbo in this case but horny is as horny dose.

Who doesn't love a hike through monster-infested forests? yeah yeah, you read the signs warning you about all sorts of beasts, but truly there were no more beautiful mountains than these ones. The grass was always greener on the other side of the barbed wire "no trespassers" fence. or- however, the saying goes.

You have to sneak in late at night. Perfect for watching the stars and the moon. You hike toward the top of the mountain through the thick foliage. Humans aren't supposed to be here, so there aren't any trails. Even though it's dark, you walk easily.

You're almost breaking through the trees to see the glorious night- then you trip. Normally you're as surefooted as a mountain goat but you go straight to the floor, knocking the breath out of your lungs. you try to stand but whatever you tripped was caught around your ankle. you try to pull your boot free but the clump of greenery tightens its grip. At first, you think you just stepped in a thick of weeds, then the growth of plants starts climbing up your legs.

You watch in fascination as a thick green vine breaks free from the regular plants and slides up your thigh dipping under the fabric of your hiking shorts. You're so interested in this incredible plant, then it touches the edge of your boxers and the Fear clicks in like a switch being flipped.

You jerk back and try to escape but the vine wraps around your thigh squeezing painfully keeping you in place. More vines sprout out of nowhere and wrap around your arms and other leg, pulling you spread eagle. Another vine slides up your neck, caressing your face, you open your mouth to scream and the vine slips into your mouth, pressing hot and heavy against your tongue. Something sweet spills onto your tongue. You don't want to swallow the sap but it's choking you. So you swallow.

Again, it's like a switch being flipped. You have no idea what you were so freaked about you feel great. The vines are so pretty, they're warm and feel good against your skin as they strip you out of your clothes. You don't just feel good, you feel horny. all you can think about is how needy you feel, how much you want to get fucked right now.

The vines slither over your chest and down to your exposed sex. One vine pushes inside your dripping pussy, and another wraps around your T-cock. You moan loudly, the sound of your pleasure only muffled by the thick vine still in your mouth.

You lose track of time as the creature fucks you mercilessly. You can't keep track of how many times you cum either. But that's okay, you reason. This monster can do the thinking for you. All you have to worry about is your pleasure.

Eventually, the creature lets you down, leaving you naked covered in sap-like cum. You blink dizzily. The sunlight of a new day blinded you even though it was night when your journey started. the only thought left in your fucked out mind is "Nature really is amazing"

[deadghosy]

“𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫” 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐒𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 ||𝐅𝐓𝐌!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Warning: transphobia from the parents, it’s fluff I swear.

A/N: the trend may have died and I’m late to it. But it popped up on my feed and I couldn’t help but do this 🫶🏾

Tom Riddle

Honestly he stayed quiet. So quiet it was unsettling how he stared at you up and down and walked past you

But when he talked to you, it was different from the way you thought he would talk to you.

He’s actually a respectable gentleman and asked for YOUR name. Not the name your parents told him

So he just nodded and kept track of how you are as a person

Honestly he may be confused but he has the spirit

Mattheo Riddle

What’s that? You use to be a girl/you are a woman? Well he doesn’t see one at the slightest

All he sees is the most handsome man he ever seen in his damn life

Literally raises his hand towards your parents at the dinner for them to shush as he starts to work his charms on you

Literally makes you feel in your own little world

He would glare at your parents and remind them that he is the son of the dark lord

So they can shut the fuck up and let him at least talk to the most amazing man he just met

Draco Malfoy

“All I see is a man.”

He’s so blunt with it 😭 he was supportive of you before knowing you were trans and if made your heart swell because he looked so serious

His father knew what you were but stayed quiet.

Though even if your parents tried to dead name you and try to bring up your past.

He’s not listening a single bit

Blaise Zabini

Honestly ignores your parents talking about how you look and how your past self was

He doesn’t care. Because right now he is memorized by you.

He’s shaking your hand and smiling asking for your name and maybe number

You can’t help but like him as he is smooth with his lines

And it hits off with you two talking about each other

Talking to you feels good without your shitty parents running their mouth about their daughter son.

Theodore Nott

I feel like he would be the most confused of them all since I headcannon he didn’t really much understand the English language before Hogwarts but got better… he still has slight trouble with the culture and traditions.

But when your parents had deadnamed you and called you their daughter. Thoughts ran through Theodore’s head

“Daughter?? [deadname]?? Man? He’s? She’s? She is a he?”

Just so confused to the point he said out loud that you are a boy to which you laughed at how confused he looked

Either way you two spent time getting to know each other and duo I explained to him about how you felt in the wrong body and how you felt more comfortable for who you are

You helped him see a lot more things in different perspectives

Lorenzo Berkshire

He just awkwardly stood there at the meeting when your family introduced you in the way that made you seem uncomfortable.

So he talked to you one on one and started to know more about you

When you told him about your transition, he was very intrigued and asked even more about you

He made you feel like your own person as he just laughs at your own joke.

He could sense your parents shaking their head at how their SON was acting.

But you two didn’t care. It was only your world and his.

[punkeropercyjackson]

Hobie dosen't 'look like a pervert' or 'dress like a slut' and is actually incredibly sweet-looking and literally wears more clothes than all the other Spiderpeople except Jessica,he's just black and you're just racist

[dervampireprince]

[dni minors, dni blogs that have no 18+ age listed in their bio] astarion x trans man! reader/tav /// smut, dysphoria comfort, reader's chest is un-described and untouched, reader has a vulva, soft dom top astarion, bottom reader

whenever there's a day when you feel off, wrong, you're hyper aware of your body and how it doesn't feel right to you, he'll notice. perhaps not at first, but the way your posture is different, the way you reject and shy away from his touch, don't flush or scowl at his flirting.

it's late when he decides he has to ask you what's wrong, him not being used to having others to care about, to worry for.

"have i done something wrong?" his voice is quiet and yet it startles you from your thoughts.

"no? no, of course no," guilt festers in you. "i'm sorry."

"there's no need to apologise, darling. as i've been told by someone quite dear to me, there's nothing wrong with not wanting to be touched."

"it's not that. i do, i," you breathe. "i want you to touch me quite badly."

"then i don't understand."

his fingers twitch, wanting to reach for you as your eyes flicker to the mirror across the room.

"when you look at me... what do you see? that is, i mean... you could have anyone you wanted, and i know what you'll say to that. and i believe you. that you want me. i just, sometimes it's hard thinking about the men you've been with, hells just men in general, and then... how they compare to... me. because sometimes, sometimes it's hard to see myself as... as..."

you trail off, aware of your shaking breath, aware of the wetness on your eyelashes, aware that you want to bury yourself against him but find yourself scared.

just as you start to wonder if you've ruined something, his hands hover by your face, not touching, waiting. and so you nod, and his he cups his palms against your cheeks, tilting your head to look at him.

"my sweet boy."

those words and his voice make everything the smallest bit better, you hold back a sob and place your head into the crook of his neck. him calling you a boy both soothing and comforting, but also always slightly arouses you.

"you know i love you? exactly as you are, because of who you are."

"i know."

he raises one of your hands to his lips and kisses it.

"would you let me show you?"

he's not used to being so careful with someone else, not that he hasn't been gentle before but it's never been out of his own desire to cherish the person he's with. but perhaps he can understand, in his own way, feeling disconnected to your own body.

"you're such a handsome man, such a pretty boy. and aren't i ever so lucky. when i was a child i would fantasize about some dashing prince, but i could have never imagined i'd find one like you. you're far lovelier than any dream. you're real. and for some unknown reason managed to see something good in me. you're the most incredible person i've ever met, and i'm going to help you see that."

your shirt stays on if you wish it, as much as he loves every inch of your body, and will continue to regardless of if it stays as it is, or if parts of it change. but he wants you to be comfortable.

he kisses you, trailing down from your lips to your neck, never meaning to get carried away there but always does. you find it hard to mind though as he kisses, teeth nipping but not drinking, leaving faint little marks. he likes leaving marks on you, a reminder that you're here, that you're proud to be with him.

his hands slide down your sides, over your stomach, they pull at the laces of your trousers, sliding them off you legs, leaving your bottom half bare, waiting for his attention.

you flush as he maintains eye contact with you as he slides a hand under your ankle, then down your leg as his mouth moves with it, kissing you calf, next to your knee, up your thigh. and if there's more to grab there, he reveals in it, adoring any curves, your softness. he pauses when he reaches the top of your thigh and chuckles, smirks to himself

"such a sensitive boy, i haven't even touched you anywhere intimate yet and look," you gasped as he glides a couple of fingers between your folds and then holds them up. "already wet for me."

he slides his fingers back against you, teasing around you before thrusting in, curling them upwards as he lowers his head.

"we can'tbe neglecting your cock can we darling? it's straining so hard. and just because it looks different than mine, doesn't make it less of a cock, does it?"

he stays blinking up at you until he realise he wants an answer and you shake your head no.

"good boy, that's right," he purrs and you want to feel condescended, but you just whine, flushing hot, wanting to be good for him, wanting to be his good boy, wanting him to call you that again. "and what shall we do with your pretty cock? shall i suck you off?"

you nod your head, eyes pleading with him and he laughs, not to make fun of you, but because your neediness, your eagerness for him endears him.

"very well then," his lips close around your cock, sucking and suctioning while his fingers continue to stroke inside you, your hands slip into his hair and tug accidentally and he moans around you.

"cheeky boy," he pulls back. "do you wish to come like this or..."

"fuck me," you say, and then. "please? please, astarion, i need you."

astarion always flushes when you tell him you need him. he slides up your body, "i suppose i shouldn't tease, you've been deprived of my touch all week, my poor boy thinking he didn't deserve this. don't worry, i'll fuck you like need."

his cock slips between you, holding you close, kissing your neck, hands stroking your waist as he pushes inside of you,

"that's it, such a good boy. always taking me so well," he loses control of his voice as he fucks you, murmuring praises as his hips snap against you, letting you tug him up to kiss you, pressing one of your hands down into the pillow so he can hold it.

he tells you that you're a good as you both come, he tells you that you're a good boy as you twitch, oversensitive, as he cleans you off, and he tells you that you're a good boy as you drift off in his arms.

[bonez-and-gutz]

when you’re smart in your daily life but the second he touches you, you’re nothing but a dumb slut begging for cock >>>>

[doggoboigaugau]

Konig x Spot (my OC)

As I said, old man Konig is so hot. And also who is curious about Spot's relationship with old man Konig 🤭🤭🤭 I'll reveal more in the next posts 😈😈😈

Wake up the hot stuff is here @arthurmorgansballsack @justanagenderperson

[baileyjayy1]

Working on some fun stuff this year. Excited to tell you about it, would you like that?

[henrioo]

°•*⁀➷ ORANGE THEORY: TRIO MONSTER

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : "It seems that if your lover peel an orange for you without you asking him first, then that means they really love you, since they can do things for you without you even asking they for that."

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : Male! Reader (can be trans or cis), MLM, homo relationship, man x man relationship, Sanji and Zoro bickering in their scenarios, it's mentioned that the reader likes orange and likes food in general, gay being used in a way to make the other embarrassed (not using for you), term men-kisser, Sanji is a little pervert about your male body (nothing too weird), a lot of terms and nicknames for male people

꒰ WC ꒱ : 1,6 in all, 300 for Luffy, 772 for Sanji and 576 for Zoro

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : So lol I wanted to do this one because I saw a lot of those one week, then I though was fair for boys having that too. I planned to post this some week ago, but I passed through a lot of things so I got a little unmotivated, but now since I have 700 followers from the night to the day I think I have to give everyone more content, so hm here it is, for all those people... Jesus this is scary, I'm still gonna make an official post for celebrating the followers, but I'm planning a thing for that so maybe it will take a while, but it's coming and with some present for you guys. Enjoy!

➤ Luffy

Naive of you to think that you would need to go to Luffy, the moment you appear on the deck with an orange for your snack, your boyfriend is already on top of you with his arms wrapped around your waist and drooling all over the fruit.

“Hey (y/n), did you get it for me?” He would ask laughing as you huffed at his insatiable hunger.

“No, for me, why would I get it for you?” You said feigning anger with a pout on your lips.

“Because…” Luffy made a hurt face, with big puppy dog eyes and a truly hurt pout. “Because you are my boyfriend and your duty is to feed me!” He said irritated and rocking you in his arms.

You just laughed, Luffy almost never called you his boyfriend, only at appropriate times for him, like now. The boy might have an airhead, but he knew that using titles like that would make you melt and fulfill his every desire.

“That goes for you too” you snorted, offering him the orange “You’re also my boyfriend so you should feed me too” you said laughing at his logic, but still finding it cute.

Luffy just let you go and took the orange in his hands, you were distracted to answer something to Usopp and took your eyes off the boy. Soon you felt him poking you and when you turned around you found Luffy offering you half of the peeled orange.

"Here! Now we’re even, you fed me and I fed you!” He said laughing as he stuffed half of the orange into his mouth and ran off to do something else.

Simply leaving you there with half an orange in your hand, red cheeks and a racing heart. Besides, of course, the obvious certainty that you loved Luffy.

➤ Sanji

It's impossible for Sanji to leave you hungry, he has a biological clock that works solely to always give you treats and small snacks between important meals. It's easier for you to get tired from eating so much than to actually get hungry around this man, especially when you're his boyfriend, and therefore his number one priority.

You had just helped Nami and received one of her precious oranges as a reward, so you decided it was a good snack until lunch time that was approaching. You entered the kitchen and sat at the counter, placing your orange there so you could eat.

“Do you need anything my beloved (y/n)-kun?” Sanji asked, looking at you over his shoulder as he continued preparing for lunch.

“No, I just wanted to stay here with you for a while” you answered him with a smile, Sanji didn't usually let you help him with most of the main meals, he said that the pressure of having to finish the meal on time for everyone was bad for your skin. He would prefer that you could cook calmly and calmly, making meals without a delivery date. That's why you usually only watched him cook the main meals, already knowing that he would refuse your help.

“You are so lovely Mon ange, I am so lucky to have you” he said, sighing dramatically with heart eyes as he turned to you with a lovestruck face, he quickly noticed your orange with curious eyes. "An orange?"

“Huh? Oh yes, I was helping Nami and she gave me one” you explained to him, knowing that he would be curious that you had a snack that he didn't give you.

Before any other movement was made, you heard Nami calling you on the main deck urgently. You huffed angrily and got up, telling Sanji that you would be right back while he opened the kitchen door to resolve whatever situation they needed from you.

When you came back a few minutes later, sitting at the counter again, you noticed that your orange was gone. You looked around looking for the fruit, it wasn't anywhere else on the counter, nor on the table, nor had it fallen on the floor or anywhere nearby.

“Sanji? Have you seen my orange?” You asked, not remembering taking the fruit with you.

“Just a moment my dear” Sanji said, still fiddling with something with his back to you. Confused, you followed his order and waited in silence.

Then your blonde boyfriend turned around and handed you a plate with your orange, but very different from the orange you had initially left. Now it was completely cut and all the pieces separated, that white part that you always complained about was gone and the slices were positioned to form a heart, in addition to, of course, a toothpick stuck into them with a heart design on top.

“You already work so much with those idiots, you shouldn't tire your beautiful male hands…” Sanji said and quickly fell silent, you felt like he was going to say a perverted sentence but he held himself back to keep the moment cute.

“Ah, Sanji, this is so cute” you said, observing the dish that was so well crafted, you hadn't even asked him and yet he did everything as if it were his duty. “Thank you for that love,” you said smiling at him.

Sanji stared at you in silence for a few minutes with flushed cheeks and a shy smile... and then he lost control.

“Ah, my dear (y/n)-kun! Please don't waste your compliments on me! Oh, you are such a kind man! A true gentleman! I could do anything you want my beloved prince! I will serve you all the days of my life and protect your beautiful strong manly body! Oh you are so sexy my dear (y/n)-kun! You are the most handsome man on the entire planet, I am so lucky to be your boyfriend! Please marry me and be my husband!”

You didn't even need to react as Zoro entered the kitchen yawning. “Can you stop being gay, cook? There are people wanting to have lunch”

“Who are you calling gay you little shit?!” Sanji shouted angrily.

“You, man-kisser,” Zoro shot back angrily.

“Listen here, the only man I kiss is my beloved (y/n)-kun and I would rather die than kiss anyone other than him!”

“Still a man-kisser” You decided to ignore them fighting while you ate your oranges… Sanji might be a bit exaggerated but you knew he loved you and you loved him even more.

➤ Zoro

You plopped down next to your boyfriend, sitting next to him against the ship. He complained with a huff about you disturbing him in his nap, since you were practically lying on top of him. So he decided to open his eyes to see what you were doing.

There you were smiling as you held an orange in your lap, you looked beaming as you shouted something to Luffy and Chopper in the distance on the other side of the ship.

"What is that?" Zoro asked about his fruit.

“Hmm? Snack” you said smiling childishly “Sanji gave it to me when I said I was hungry, cool right?” You said excitedly, when it came to eating you were always happy.

But the mention of the cook made Zoro lose all the excitement he gained seeing his cuteness, what was that stupid cook thinking? Sure, Sanji practically hated men and would never be with one, but you were still Zoro's boyfriend! Sanji couldn't just be nice to you like that! That was only the swordsman's right!

You seemed to ignore your boyfriend's instant bad mood, you didn't usually care about Zoro's jealousy, always saying that he exaggerated too much sometimes. Not that it was a lie, but that didn't stop him from feeling jealous. He snorted thinking about millions of things, did you like the cook more because of his kindness?

While you were distracted screaming and talking to your captain about something stupid, Zoro stole the orange from your lap and started peeling the fruit as best he could, after all his anger told him to throw that fruit into the ocean or else throw it at the head of that idiot blonde.

When you stopped talking and went to get your fruit you noticed it was missing, you immediately became desperate for having lost your snack. “Zoro, have you seen my orange?!” You asked looking at your boyfriend, had Luffy caught her while you were distracted?

When you looked over at Zoro, you found him offering you a piece of orange, which was now peeled in his lap and he was separating the slices.

“Huh? Why is this out of nowhere?” You asked curiously, of course Zoro also had his moments of kindness, but you thought there was something behind this action today.

"Do you want it or not? I thought you liked gentle men” he said irritably as his face turned red and a frown formed on his face.

“Huh?” You had to think for a few seconds, but soon you connected all the dots. “Oh! Were you jealous of Sanji? Oh, aren’t you a cute boyfriend?”

"Shut up idiot!" Zoro shouted as he angrily shoved the piece of orange into your mouth, forcing you to chew and swallow the fruit.

You continued laughing as Zoro cursed you and tried to make you swallow all the orange he peeled for you. Whether he was trying to feed you or kill you, you didn't know.

“Sanji! Zoro is trying to kill (y/n) by choking on an orange!” Luffy shouted, amused by the scene.

“Zoro, stop wasting my orange!” Nami shouted angrily at him.

In the end Zoro decided that he would be the one to bring you snacks, every time you went too long without eating he would show up with something stolen from the kitchen. He had to make sure he marked his territory and let you know he could be gentle too.

[nosyrobin]

“The Prince.”

Pair: supersons x Wonderboy!reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: the Prince of supers and his so called “servants” hanging out at the mall.

Note| some insecurity and body dysphoria thoughts. the supersons are 15 and reader is transmasc. thanks to @ilovegayanimemen for the idea of transmasc Wonderboy!reader

Jon smiled seeing his two boyfriends, Y/N and Damian. Damian was holding Y/N’s hand, the sassy Amazon male was currently dying inside being in public with his two boys.

“Dames! N/N!” Jon immediately hugged Y/N and Damian who smiled at the golden retriever boy. Jon was the tallest of the three, with Y/N being the second tallest and Damian being the shortest. “Hi Jon.” Y/N kissed Jon’s cheek, and Damian kissed the other side of him. Jon was immediately flustered with a goofy smile. “I’m so happy you guys got to come! I have so many things we can do here, skating, shoppping, eating.”

Jonathan went on a rant as he was in the middle of the Amazon and Wayne. “STOP!” The Amazon male says, startling the two. Damian was on high alert while Jon was confused. “What?! What’s wrong beloved…” he says confused. Y/N turns around with a smirk, “A Photo Booth. Cmon!” The Amazon male runs towards the Photo Booth and got in. Damian dropped his guard, grumbling at the Amazon male. “He needs to stop doing that.” Damian mumbles under his breath.

Jonathan already joined the Amazon male, smiling with excitement as he sat in the lap of Y/N. “Dami! Cmon man!” Y/N yelled out. Damian rolled his eyes enter in the booth. He smiled seeing the two strong boys making faces already before Damian put money in. Four photos were made. One was with Damian in the middle, smirking with crossed arms and the two boys beside him making a heart with their arms. Damian was in the middle of the arm heart. The second was Y/N having Jon and Damian on his biceps, effortlessly holding when there as the Amazon male smirked.

The third one was Jon throwing up a peace sign, smiling widely as Damian and Y/N had glitter sunglasses on their faces. Lastly the fourth one was Y/N was in the middle, Jon and Damian kissed each side of the Amazon’s face. Making Y/N fake a pretend shock face. After the Photo Booth fun, the trio was happy to see the photos came out nice and neat. “I’m getting copies of these. So we three can have our own photos.” Damian suggested which made Y/N and Jon smile. “Sounds like a good plan.” Y/N says smiling. “Yeah!” Jon nodded. It was now time to shop, the boys had moved upstairs of the mall. Teens and adults walked pass the three, shocked mostly at Damian because of his reputation. Soon the three entered the store, Jon eyed a trio shirts that says, “I’m number salty. I’m sugary, and I’m sweet.” Jon grabbed them and looked for his own stuff. Damian smiled at a nice turtle neck that was black. Grabbing it up immediately.

Y/N stared at a shirt he wanted, but he didn’t know how it would look on him. He didn’t know he would like how he would look in it. What if..he didn’t like how he looked. Feeling insecure and anxious, he looked away from the shirt. But sadly his boyfriends noticed, Jon frowned looking at the shirt. “Y/N? Don’t you want that shirt?” Jon asks softly. Y/N awkwardly scratches his neck, “Uhh…I’m not sure if it would look good on me.” Damian narrowed his eyes, eyes still on the Amazon boy. He snatched the shirt, not caring about the price as he did indeed stole his father’s card. “Nonsense. You look handsome in anything. Plus we’ve seen how your eyes basically light up at this.” Jon nodded, arguing with his short boyfriend.

Y/N groans with a flustered look. “Guys, seriously you don’t need—” but it was too late when Damian and Jon cornered the Amazon boy and pushed him into a dressing room. “Though you can come out if you don’t want to love!” Jon says from behind the dressing room door. Y/N chuckled, he then looked at the body length mirror. He took a deep breath in, thoughts were scrambling around. Soon before he knew it, he had finally put on the shirt and it fitted perfectly. He turned around a few time, twisting his body. He felt good! Which made him good.

Mostly cause the shirt didn’t focus on his chest mostly, it made it feel like a breath of new air. So with that he exited the dressing room with a confident smile. Damian was smug, looking at the handsome Amazon in front of him. Jon was clapping proud of his boyfriend, eye lighting up. “I’m getting this shirt.” Y/N says, looking back at a mirror. Jon wrapped his arms around the male, giving a quick peck to Y/N’s cheek. “Please do! It fits you.” Damian nodded, “Take the shirt off and I’ll pay for it beloved.” Y/N nods and changes back to his regular shirt.

Y/N has his hands on his hips, staring at the short boy paying for the shirt. Jon had his stuff already paid for. After Damian handed the Amazon boy his bag, the trio immediately went to go eat. Hearing Jon’s stomach, Damian and Y/N laughed. “Hungry, Kent?” Damian says with a smirk, Y/N had a smug look. “Jeez babe, didn’t know your stomach was an alien.” Jon groaned. “Cmon…let’s go eat, enough of the teasing.” Y/N and Damian chuckled and held the boy’s hand. They walked off.

The three boys were having the time of their lives. Not knowing a certain adult kryptonian is crying with tears at the wholesome moment he heard from far away. “Clark. Why are you crying?” Diana says concerned. Bruce was busy on devices but was listening either way. “Our boys…they’re so precious..”

[sp00kymulderr]

I just want to…

Joel Miller x transmasc!reader

A lover boy drabble

Warnings/Tags/Notes: 18+. No outbreak au, Trans male reader, note that their breasts are mentioned. Mention of binding. Mention of dysphoria. feelings. LOVE. omg the love. kissing, touching, grinding, making out. Joel can't keep his hands off you. There is no universal trans experience, and therefore this is very personal to me. But if you love it, let me know so I can keep this series going. Unedited and unbeta'd. I love them so much it hurts.

Words: 1.2k

Ever since you started seeing each other, you and Joel can hardly be apart.

Half the time, you spend making out on his couch or in his truck like horny teens. Like despite his age, and your self-consciousness, you can't ever seem to keep your hands off of him.

He makes you feel like the person you always wanted to be, always craved to be. The kind of guy that men go weak for, men like Joel, all gruff and stoic and yet with you he turns into a puddle. He whimpers your name between kisses, and you can barely stop yourself from taking things further - but one thing is stopping you.

You've noticed how Joel's hands stay put, usually on your waist or hips, rarely straying further unless to squeeze your ass while you straddle him on the couch. He's being respectful, but you've felt the way his fingers grip and twitch, like he's stopping himself from moving them further.

You'd spoken about this before, how sometimes you can't be touched, sometimes it's difficult for you to feel reminders of your feminine features, and when the dysphoria is bad you can barely bring yourself to even look in a mirror, let alone let this handsome man grab handfuls of you and make you feel less of a man under his touch.

Joel understands it. He's more respectful then you anticipated, somehow. He kisses you slowly, softly, lets you set a pace, make the rules. He lets you take the lead, as you grind against each other in the drivers seat, parked outside his house because you know what will happen if you go inside, and maybe you aren't ready yet. And baby, that's okay, he whispers against your lips.

Tonight. Well, tonight you couldn't stop yourself. It was less a walk and more that you floated from his car to his porch to his living room to his sofa. Onto his lap, into his large hands, caressing carefully down your sides as you kiss him desperately and moan into his mouth.

And tonight, unable to stop himself, his hands move just an inch higher than usual, just beneath your chest. And his hips grind up into yours, something large and hard and needing under his jeans that makes you practically quiver with your own dreamt upon desires.

And he asks. Tonight, he asks.

“Can I touch you, baby?” Joel asks, the deep timbre of his voice vibrating through your ribcage. It’s the hottest fucking thing a man has ever said to you, and he says it like that?

“Yeah, god, yes… just- Not…not there…” You say, wash of shame through you because what if he wants to touch you there most, what if that’s what he’s been dreaming about, waiting for.

“Hey…” He takes your chin between finger and thumb, soft as he makes you look at him “Show me where”

At once you heart stops and starts, your body shivers with the lust in his voice, the desire to know you however you most want to be know. Everything on your terms. He wants what you want, and this is the first time with anyone that you've really felt that.

And maybe this is the moment you know he's the one.

He gives you a gentle, easy smile. Encouraging. You let out a shaky breath and run your hands through his salt and pepper curls before you nod, and return a shy smile of your own.

"You're really something, Joel Miller"

"I just want to make you feel good" Joel chuckles softly, shakes his head. Your stomach flips, falling fast and hard and it would be fucking terrifying if you weren't with him, in his arms.

"You gonna let me make you feel good, baby?"

You can't help the warm feeling that dances through you at his words, the raw honesty in them. He doesn't just want you, he wants your pleasure, and he's not shy about the fact. If he wasn't still holding you tight on his lap, you might've just melted into nothing right now, or maybe floated away.

Your eyes meet his again, no more trepidition or shyness to you, not now you know. Not now he's got you, never letting go of you as far as you can tell. It would be something else, to have someone like this fall in love with someone like you. To need you.

Is this what it feels like? To be someone's person? To be his man.

Wordlessly, you take his hands which are still perched carefully on your hips. One, you guide up but careful to stop it before it hits a place you can't be touched today.

"Right now it feels nice here, just beneath…or just above. Sometimes I bind, and i'll be okay with you touching all over. Sometimes I'll just want you to touch everywhere, with no rules" You explain softly, watching his eyes follow where you lead his hand.

You let out a shaky breath, and move his other hand down to the meat of your ass, let him paw at you there.

"That's…that's good. Yeah. Always good when you do that"

Joel mumbles something before he's capturing your lips in another searing, passionate kiss. This one doesn't end, doesn't want to. Neither of you can pull away, and paws at you, gropes, squeezes, worships as he whimpers against your lips. His hips are bucking up harder, grinding into you and it's overwhelming in the best sense as he shows you just how much he wants you to feel comfortable and good and perfect with him.

"Fuckin' love touching you, wherever you want to be touched, baby. You just tell me what you need, I'll always give it to you. Yeah?" The words are more a growl of desire rising up from deep within him, some primal thing awoken with the desperate grind of his hips, whilst his lips kiss down from yours until they're pressed against your pulse point and nipping greedily.

"You're the most handsome guy I've ever met. Most perfect. I just want to…"

And he doesn't even need to say what he wants, not this time.

"I want you to. I- I want…here, like this"

And it's the boldest you've been with the man since you started dating, but never once does he make you feel like any of this is a rush. You pull his hand down, let him cup you through your jeans while he bites at your flesh like you're the most delicious thing he's ever been allowed to taste.

You grind down on his hand, the heel of his palm and the friction of your clothes making a sensation that makes glimmering bright stars shoot behind your lids.

"Like that. Like that"

"Just want you to feel as good as you make me feel"

"I do, Joel"

And then there are no more words. Nothing else to say. The gasps and the whines and the moans are all that there needs to be. While he follows your guidance, and keeps you comfortable, whilst also make you fall apart - all for him to put together again, and again, and again.

"Hey" he murmurs into your hair after, "You good, baby?" And you can barely reply with anything but a giddy muffled giggle into his chest. Good might be the understatement of the year.

And then he says.

"How'd I get so lucky, to get a guy like you?"

And yeah, you can tell by the uncontrollable flutter of your heart.

It's him.

And now it's him and you.

[fanoftheimagines]

My Breath through the Deep Water

Pairing: (pre-relationship) Edwin Payne/Charles Rowlan/Ghost!Reader

Reader Gender: AFAB Trans Masc / Non-Binary

CW: pre-canon, reader is dead, neglectful/abusive parents, chronic illness & anemia, implied periods, yearning (everyone is yearning, everyone is oblivious), discussion of spousal murder & abuse, supernatural activity, Death & Dream cameo, you can pry Y/N from my cold dead hands

Word Count: 3,098

Summary: Dying in your sleep was supposed to guarantee your spot in the Dreaming. But when you end up stuck as a ghost on the mortal plane, you go to the only ghosts who can help: the Dead Boy Detectives.

A/N: I have fallen for the dead sad bois. This show is perfect and I am attached to them now. Title from Deep Water by American Authors. The reader’s backstory is based off my chronically ill childhood. Reader is meant to be around the boys’ age. I think this probably the longest one-shot I’ve ever written, so cheers to that!

Shout out to lilacclorceta for beta reading this for me!

Masterlist | AO3 Link

--- 1992 ---

The wooden door with a windowpane stood right in front of you. You took in a deep breath – one you arguably didn’t need anymore – and walked through. There were two ghostly teenage boys inside, one sitting at the desk in the middle of the room and one fiddling with the clearly-marked cases board. A nervous ball wadded in your stomach. Asking for help was never your forte, but you were at your wits end.

“Um…” You mumbled, “Excuse me?” The two boys looked up. The one in a suit and bowtie raised an eyebrow while the one in red gave you a welcoming smile. “Are you the Dead Boy Detectives?”

“That we are!” The one in red said, before turning to look at the other. He nodded. “Come in. I’m Charles, this is Edwin. How can we help you?”

You stepped further in carefully. “I… um… I need your help figuring out why I’m here…”

Edwin – the one in the suit and bowtie – nodded and gestured to the spot in front of the desk. “Please, we’ll need to know everything.”

Charles walked around and sat on the edge of the desk, angled toward Edwin. Again, you took a breath you didn’t need. “Death never came for me and I… I have no idea why…” Charles’ face flooded with sympathy. Edwin’s remained blank. “Thing is,” you hesitated, looking over their heads as you spoke, “I know where I was supposed to go, technically speaking. But I just… didn’t.”

Edwin quirked a brow in intrigue. “And you do not have any unfinished business? You’re positive?”

“No, that’s the thing. If I do, I don’t know what it is.” You responded, looking to him.

“So, what happened?” Charles probed. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is, how’d you die?”

You sighed and looked at your hands. Death never came for you. Just another sad occurrence in your already depressing life. A sick, painful, lonely life. You’d died as you’d lived: alone. Neglectful parents combined with a severe bleeding disorder left you sickly and weak until the very end. No one rushed to help you, always taking their time to try anything. Months before any medication to help with your heavy bleeding, and months more until a single blood transfusion, losing more and more lifeblood every day. As you grew weaker, you spent more time sleeping. It’s there you discovered an escape: the Dreaming. You spent your short years stuck at home, visiting the Dreaming to help with the ache. Your friends – if you could call them that, given they were dreams – said you’d stay in the Dreaming were you to die there. It was a hopeful outlook, given your rotten luck in life.

And then you died in your sleep. You were in the Dreaming at the time. You blinked, felt a strange tug at your core, then opened your eyes to your bedroom, your pale corpse lifeless under the covers.

A lone tear rolled down your cheek as you told them your story. You quickly wiped it away with your thumb. “Sorry, still fresh.”

“Hey, don’t worry. Only natural, isn’t it? Dying alone sounds scary, I’m sorry you went through that.” Charles said.

Edwin’s face was twisted in fascination and curiosity. “Charles, a word?” He interrupted, facing Charles.

He dragged him into the closet before he could respond. Their voices were muffled through the door. You fiddled with your fingers, anxiety swelling in your throat. “I can pay!” You suddenly burst, voice just loud enough you hoped they could hear you.

Charles stepped out first and sat back on the desk. Edwin stood straight – his hands clasped all proper – next to him. “We’ll take your case.”

“Oh, thank you.” A relieved breath left you.

“Now, you said you could pay?” He continued inquisitively.

You nodded. “Right, well I inherited a collection of rare books on the supernatural from my grandmother. The books are still there. I don’t think my parents are ready to move on yet, honestly. They’re yours, if you help me.”

“Oh, brills! Edwin’s always looking to add more to his collection, right Edwin?” Charles smiled – almost smitten, if you didn’t know any better – at Edwin.

Edwin fought back a smile. “Yes, Charles, thank you.” He nodded his head toward you. “Now, let us get started.”

--- 1999 ---

“I come bearing gifts, my friends!” You smiled widely as you walked through the office mirror. A thick manila file was in your hand.

“You are aces, you are!” Charles laughed, taking the file from your hand. “Oh, look at this, old Mr. Brewer’s got some nasty skeletons, eh?” Edwin peered over his shoulder.

“Interesting. So, he caused the death of a young woman 48 years ago, and yet she didn’t seek revenge until now?” Edwin remarked before looking up at you. “Well done.”

Charles handed the file to him and swung an arm around your shoulder. “That’s a compliment in Edwin’s book, right there.” He squeezed you against him. The comforting pressure had you leaning in further.

“Thank you. I’m glad I could help.” You smiled, glancing at the pretty boy with his arm around you. “Gotta give you a reason to keep me around, right?” It was a half-joke – something frankly pitiful if you were honest with yourself.

“Nah, none of that,” he chuckled, squeezing you again, “we like you, don’t we? Besides, your case isn’t solved. Not a good look, if you ask me.”

“Yes, you’ve become a valuable member of the Dead Boy Detective Agency. We’d both be completely lost without you.” Edwin snarked, half sarcastically. “Now, did you happen to learn anything else from this source of yours?”

You smirked. “Apparently, Brewer’s nephew bought a typewriter from a seller of supernatural artifacts last year.”

“And, let me guess, she was the original owner? Oh, that’s brills.” Charles leaned over Edwin, practically resting his chin on his shoulder. His chocolate brown eyes scanned the page. “Haunted objects are practically our bread and butter.”

Your gaze rested on him for a moment before you tore it away. You dug out a scrap of paper out of your inner jacket pocket. “Yeah. My source, as you so called her, said this would help with sorting it out.” You handed it to Edwin.

He nodded and scanned it. “Wonderful, I’ll get to work on this. You two do some leg work, find out what you can about this scorned woman.”

--- SKELETONS IN THE CLOSET ---

Charles and you walked into the house. It had been abandoned after Thomas Brewer’s death. His only living family was his nephew, who didn’t want to live in the city. The only ones hanging around seemed to be Brewer himself and this unknown woman. It was dark. The windows were drawn to keep out street light. The furniture was covered with white tarps. Blood stains surrounded the single armchair in the living room. Other than that, nothing out of the ordinary.

The two of you split up. You took to the main floor, Charles upstairs. You skirted around the red-stained floor. The bookcase left of the telly was practically overflowing with books. The old man had clearly collected. And there, sitting right in the middle of the fourth shelf, was the typewriter. It looked normal, just a regular typewriter. You really wouldn’t know it was haunted by an apparently malicious ghost. You didn’t touch it – you wouldn’t hear the end of it if you did. Instead, you went to the office off the living room.

The large wooden desk was covered in a thick layer of dust. The right drawer was locked. You opened all the others. Nothing of note on the woman, unfortunately. Behind the desk, a painting of a lakefront. You pulled it off the wall to reveal a wall safe. Typical.

“Found something!” You called, leaving the room to find Charles.

He was in the main bedroom. His back was to the door as he read a leather-bound book. He tilted his head to you as you walked in. “He definitely killed her.”

“Diary?” You asked, sitting next to him.

He hummed and shifted the book for you to read too. “Her name was Mary. She was his wife.” He paused and closed his eyes. “He pushed her down the stairs when she tried to leave him.”

“Oh,” you muttered, forcing your eyes away from the book. “Then, I suppose he deserved it.”

“Yeah…” His voice dropped slightly and you could sense his anger rising. Your hand slid easy into his and gave it a comforting squeeze. His shoulder slumped against yours. His past was coming back to him – you could tell in the way his shoulders drew in and his mask slipped slightly. A solacing silence settled over the two of you. The pressure and proximity were a comfort for both of you.  

“We should go.” He eventually broke the silence.

“There’s a safe and a locked drawer we should deal with first.” You replied as you stood up. It was as if the moment hadn’t happened. And well, you were both professionals, after all.

“The client lied to us. He did know her.” Charles told Edwin. You’d returned to the office to find Edwin in a state of undress you rarely saw him – that is, without his suit jacket – knee deep in research. He was surrounded by piles of books mostly regarding object hauntings. A small smile formed at the sight. He was perfect in his own way, something that made butterflies flutter in your stomach in the same way Charles did sometimes.

You zoned out of the conversation. The two boys – your boys – were easy on the eyes. They were both so damn pretty. The kind of pretty that stalled your breath and made your heart skip a beat. And on top of that, they were the perfect duo. A verifiable old married couple if you’d ever seen one. And they made you feel more alive than you ever did before. Somehow, Death had granted you a gift. The realization was almost a shock to the system. They were your best friends, your family. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Hey!” Charles’ hand suddenly waved in front of your face. “You still in there, mate?”

It jerked you out of your stupor. “Hmm? Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry.” You looked up to him. His brown eyes were full of concern. “What’d I miss?”

Edwin raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. “Your friend was right. I have the spell I need to unbind Mary Brewer from the typewriter. Once she’s free, her and Thomas should be able to move on. Get ready. We leave in an hour.”

--- A WOMAN SCORNED ---

Why did nothing ever go to plan? A spectral claw dug further into your shoulder. No pain followed, but a heavy feeling of pressure followed. Mary’s elongated, horrific form screamed eerily into your face. You turned reflexively. Edwin’s voice came somewhere behind you. His Latin was just barely audible. Charles’ cricket bat thwacked the enraged spirit, but she only tightened her grip on you.

“Please hurry up!” You yelled; voice tinged with panic. “Charles!”

“I’ve got you!” He said. You could just barely hear him riffling through his bag. Mary drooled over you as she bared down on you. Then, she screamed loudly. Charles had swung on her with his knife. She reared back. Her claws released you. You dropped and scrambled. “Yeah, that’s right. Leave them alone.”

“Any time now, Edwin!”

With a final word, Mary’s ghostly form glowed blue then settled. There on the floor sat a sobbing woman dressed in sixties traveling ware. The three of you panted in relief. Edwin helped you to your feet and turned to Charles.

“You okay?”

Charles nodded, picked up his backpack, and tucked his iron knife away. “Aces, but we should get out of here. Now that she’s free, Death’ll come.”

--- CASE CLOSED ---

It hadn’t ended the way you expected, sure, but the case was still closed. The client had turned out to be a no-good murderer but you’d freed his late wife. Plus, you got paid before the case. Edwin spent the rest of the night reshelving his books. Charles smiled softly at him occasionally and busied himself with filing away the case.

You leaned against the wall, just watching them. Sometimes, you couldn’t help but wonder what your afterlife would be like if you’d stayed in the Dreaming. But times like this made you want to hide away from Death forever.

That wonderful fluttering feeling returned. An easy smile fell on your lips. And after a moment of relishing in the saccharine feeling, you gently reached to take the stack of books from Edwin’s arms. “Let me help?”

He hummed pleasantly and shifted them into your arms. “Thank you.”

--- 2022 ---

Twenty-something years later, your case was on indefinite hiatus. The years passed pleasantly. The Dead Boy Detective Agency was a shining beacon in your postmortem life. Together, you closed probably hundreds of cases.

This one was simple, but with lots of detective work. A client came in, an older woman who just wanted to know who stole her mother’s engagement ring before she’d died. Her and her family lived on the other side of town – an hour away by the tube. Of course, that meant Edwin insisted on you practicing mirror travel on your way back. To get cases done faster, he claimed. Charles smirked at him knowingly when he’d said that and you couldn’t help but laugh under your breath too.

Which led you here, in the client’s bedroom, staring at the unreflective mirror. Edwin stood uncharacteristically close behind you. His proximity made your metaphorical heart race. He gently placed your hand on the mirror. It rippled under your touch.

“Focus on the office.” He whispered close to your ear. “You need to remain focused on where you want to go. Think of the mirror as a doorway.” You took a deep breath and did as he said. Desperately not focusing on his nearness and trust, on this need to just… touch him. You did your best to focus on the office. “Now, step through.”   

You didn’t end up in the office. It was a back alley with a mirror leaning against a garbage bin. Whimpering came from a bit further in. Followed by a blue light. Dread grasped your throat. No…

“Well?” Edwin asked, poking his head out.

You quickly turned. Not him. “Death is here. Go!” You whispered, pushing him back through.

A voice stopped you from following. You couldn’t lead her back to them. Not them. Anyone but them. “Hello, Y/N.”

You turned around slowly this time. “Hello, Death. Are you finally here to take me?

She was beautiful and her face was kind. Her brown eyes sympathetic. “Do you want me to?”

You shook your head. No, that was the last thing you wanted. A man – his hair dark and wild, his eyes silver and galactic – dressed in all black walked up behind her. He felt familiar, in a similar way Death did. “Dream,” you whispered, almost reverently. He was here, somehow. Missing all those years you’d visited the Dreaming, watching as it decayed. “You’re here…”

“You know me?” His voice was smooth, reverberating deep in your chest even despite your lack of physical feeling.

“I spent years in your realm. It welcomed me when I had nowhere else.” You smiled wistfully.

Death glanced at Dream. “They can go back, if you’ll take them. They died there a long time ago.” She turned back to you. “Do you want that?”

This was it. The moment you’d wanted all those years ago. It was here. All you had to do was nod and take her hand and you could go back to the Dreaming with your friends and see its beauty like you were always meant to. But then you thought of Charles’ smile. His golden earring and Rude Boys jacket and red shirt. Edwin’s quiet concern and fancy suit. Your friends, the people you’d risked your existence for over and over again.

“No.”

Dream’s stare pierced your very being. “No? You dare deny your destiny? My realm?”

“I would have said yes, if you’d come 30 years ago. But then I made a home here, with a family of my own. And I’m happier than I ever was when I was alive or in the Dreaming.” You glanced at Death. Fear knotted in your gut. What if she took you anyway?

But she just nodded and smiled kindly. “Good, I’m glad you found your place. And when you’re ready, I will come.”

She turned to him. A moment later, he nodded. “You are always welcome in the Dreaming.”

A sigh left you involuntarily. “Thank you.”

The second you walked back through the mirror you were engulfed in their arms. Edwin – who didn’t like touch most days – held you tight in relief. Charles tugged you both close. If tears came, no one mentioned them. You sagged into their arms.

Then, Edwin slapped your arm. “Are you completely stupid?” He yelled, pulling away. His voice was high with residual anxiety.

“Easy, Edwin. They’re still here.” Charles smiled, squeezing you again before releasing you. “What happened, then? How’d you get away?”

A soft smile – saccharine and easy – graced your lips. “Death let me go.”

“What?” Edwin asked. Confusion all over his face. “That’s not possible.”

You grinned. Happiness swelled. “She said I found my place and when I was ready, she’d come for me.”

“Oh, that’s brills!” Charles laughed, picking you up in a crushing hug.

Edwin smiled – properly smiled, for possibly the first time since you’d met him. “Let’s go home then. This case can wait, what with Death around.”

Life hadn’t been kind to you. Neither had death. Then you’d met two incredible detectives. All your pain and suffering didn’t matter anymore, not really, when you had them to lean on. It still ached like a bruise on occasion. Yet you wouldn’t trade it for anything if it meant you ended up here. You’d gotten what you’d always wanted in the most unlikely of ways. You were tied to them forever now. Three souls bound together through pain and friendship. They were a safe place to rest your head when it all was too much. Just as you were for them. When Edwin had flashbacks of Hell or Charles got quiet and repressive. You don’t know what your future holds, but you knew that no matter what, you’d found where you belonged.